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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/TheCurserHasntMoved on 2024-12-26 00:02:27+00:00.
Being on a Mental Health Command approved Star Sailor ship was considered one of the best ways for a retired Navy man to spend his life after service, better than settling down in one of the towns on Sanctuary, anyway. Even better is a man didn’t need MH services and could be a part of providing said services, like Chief Petty Officer (retired) Nathanial Forte, who’s long experience as the galley master on a battleship had transferred skills directly to his position as galley master on the ship We Stand Resolute for Oure Beloved Shall Return in more ways than would be expected on first glance.
Some adjustments did need to be made so he could actually utilize the galley, however. In Nate’s view, the Star Sailors were unnecessarily tall, and in their view he was adorably short. He didn’t mind that, most xenos found Humans cute after all, and if a man was going to sail outside the Republic, or even on her fringes, he would have to get used to the idea. Regardless of the aesthetics of the fact, significant renovations had to be made to the galley when he had signed on, which the Star Sailors were more than happy to accommodate. The captain, a man who’s pale blue skin hung a little loose on his bones, had lines of laughter etched permanently across his face, and who’s braid had long gone gray, was something of a terraboo on top of the usual general affinity for Terrans. This meant that real, authentic Terran cooking on the We Stand made Traldron Dronvre very, very, very happy. Nate and he got along almost like old Navy buddies.
The captain’s wife and ship’s quartermaster, Miavre, didn’t quite share her husband’s near-obsessive love for all things Terran, but she did honor and respect the Republican Navy and those who served in it. Nate had to admit, it gave him no small measure of pride to hear the aged matron of a sailing people call the republic “Fine voidsmen.” Even better were the grandkids, mostly because all four of them were close to Terran height and loved to help in the kitchen. It made the fact that Nate couldn’t have kids of his own hurt a little less.
The rest of the Star Sailors aboard had taken to him even more quickly than the enlistedmen he’d fed in his former career, which was impressive considering how hungry the E-scale servicemen are in any of the Republican services. The communications officer, Janbex Bexvee, especially went out of his way to make friends so that he could learn Terran cooking after tasting it for the first time. Nate agreed, of course, but insisted that Jan teach him Star Sailor dishes in return.
Nate felt the way a Navy man who doesn’t want to give up living on ships is meant to feel on a Star Sailor vessel, seamlessly at home. Which, comes to the point. Private First Class Keven Barnes did not feel seamlessly at home, as was intended. It was, thank God, not due to anybody being unwelcoming, or even because Keven was unfriendly. It was as a result of two facts. The first, that as a former RNI Advanced Drop Scout trooper, Keven’s skills didn’t slot into the ship particularly well unless she came under attack. The second, he was medically separated from service and ordered to begin his life after service in one of the MH approved locations. It could have been worse, he could have been a Deep Recon Scout.
The usual thing to do with an RNI trooper living on a Star Sailor ship was to make him Master at Arms, but Nate didn’t think that was the way to go, since when one of the other crewmates had broached the subject the man had a full-blown panic attack. Nate had been obliged to explain to some of the younger crew that offering to make an enlistedman with such a specialized combat MOS an officer in the first week aboard was a very, very good way to scare the crap out of him. Then, he had to get the man very good at hiding and killing hostiles unseen calmed down and explain to him that nobody was threatening to promote him, and it was fine to not have the security of the whole ship as his responsibility. Convincing Keven that the offer was meant as an honor and not a threat was by far and away the more difficult of the two conversations.
After that debacle, most of the Star Sailors had taken Nate’s lead and let Keven have his space. The children had no such intentions, and not just the four grandkids, but the kids from the other families aboard. Nate did not rescue Keven from the innocent insensitivities of children. Instead he watched.
“So you do the same job Sneaky did?” Jan was asking with great enthusiasm on one such occasion. Nate did not seed gossip to that effect for the children to overhear earlier, because that would have been hilarious and mean. The kids liking Terran media in Commercial English had its perks
“Uh… well kinda,” Keven said in the almost sing-song accents of a frontier colonist, “it was probably different against the grubs.”
The middle brother, Brix, didn’t give the beleaguered veteran any reprieve, “But you use the same kinda gun, right?”
“I think the Anti-Personnel Long-Range Magacc Model forty-two B got phased out around forty years ago,” Keven answered blinking.
“So they took away the sniper gun?” The youngest of the three brothers asked with wide eyes and plush Human toy clutched tightly to his chest in shock.
“No, they invented a new model that works a little better,” Keven quickly clarified as if he was afraid the young boy would cry at the change.
“Oh, that makes sense,” Jan said with the sage nod of the oldest brother who clearly knows the most. “Did you ever shoot any bad guys like Sneaky did?”
Nate suddenly watched the interaction much more sharply, but he needn’t have worried. “I did my duty, and I don’t think I want to talk about who I shot,” Keven said quietly, and that was what it finally took for the children to realize he was uncomfortable. They started to mutter shamefaced apologies, which of course made Keven panic ever so slightly, “No, no, no, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything bad. It’s okay, it’s okay.”
Rescuing Keven from kids was out of the question, but rescuing Keven from Keven was Nate’s job. “Hey kids,” he said as he stepped closer, “I have some boring grown-up stuff to talk to Keven about.”
“Like what?” Brix asked with suspicion.
“Taxes,” Nate answered without missing a beat, and that got the three to scatter on the spot.
“Thanks again,” Kevin half whispered, half croaked.
“In and out, breathe, son. You did fine, you didn’t traumatize any children by not telling them the things that won’t go away when you close your eyes. You made a good call, they don’t need to hear war stories, they only think they do because they’re little boys.”
“I remember being a boy,” the younger man said as he stared at his trembling hands, “I remember when war stories were the coolest shit ever. Hell, I still don’t mind hearing a brother talk about what he did on his drops. It’s just all of my drops lead to…”
“In and out, son.”
Keven followed the instructions and just focused on his breathing for a while, and when the trembling stopped he said, “Thank you sir.”
“I’m Nate now,” Nate snorted, and Kevin looked chagrinned, “actual Navy men don’t get hung up on that the way you dirtpounders do.”
“Please tell me you don’t actually have to talk to me about taxes, because if you do I might walk out the airlock.”
“Nah, I don’t hate you. I did want to see about what we discussed the other day.”
“I kinda thought the engine room would be okay, since I’m better with machines than people…”
“But?”
Kevin winced and pushed air out through his teeth before taking a sharp breath and saying, “It took me back to the collapse. The noise, the shadows… the… but uh, I…”
“You think you’re going to have to actually be around people?” Nate said in mock horror.
“Shut up,” Keven growled as he thumped the older man’s arm, “they all expect me to be some kind of hero, like Greg George. Doesn’t help that I have a similar MOS.”
“I met him once, you know.” Nate had the immense pleasure of seeing the younger man’s face go slack in wide-eyed shock and amazement. “He was quietly friendly, and before you ask, he liked the nickname. He thought being called Sneaky by half of known space was hilarious, and I suspect he liked that nickname better than getting called The Report.”
“Jesus Mary and Joseph,” Keven swore.
“You might have noticed that I’m old,” Nate laughed before saying, “I made a fool of myself and asked for an autograph, stars in my eyes and head full of stories about The Report. He asked me why I wanted his autograph, and I told him it was because he was a hero. He told me that he didn’t know if he was a hero or not, but he knew that he was just a man like me. That’s always stuck with me.”
“After everything he did he-”
“Still didn’t let it blow up his head,” Nate said firmly. “I didn’t feel let down or disappointed when I realized that he was a mortal like me.”
“I-” Nate ignored the choking sounds and the rapid blinking from the younger man and waited for him to continue, “thank you.”
“Now, I have a bit of an idea.”
“Hm?”
“It’s December Tenth.”
Keven looked at Nate in complete and utter bafflement as he spun his hand in a circular motion as if encouraging the gears in Keven’s head to turn. Slowly, he said, “And we’re on a ship that likes Terran stuff more than normal… and I could…” and here the light finally went on for Keven, “I could share some of the traditions I grew up with to celebrate Christmas!”
“Got there eventually.”
Keven scowled at Nate. …
Content cut off. Read original on https://old.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/1hmc8rn/tree_hunt/