captainhornblower | Second Dispatch

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Second Dispatch - [written]

Monday, 16th May, 18

I have recently been given to thought about the [a pause in the writing as he considers his wording] conflict between this place and the [another considerable pause] worlds we come from.

How does one balance the two? I understand some have been away from their ~~proper~~ homes for some time. Surely some of you left behind obligations. How do you reconcile the need to return to them with your presence here? Do you ~~somehow~~ put them out of mind? Do you merely accept you cannot fulfill them until you return? ~~I find the matter trying my conscience sorely.~~

I would appreciate any counsel on the matter.

Hornblower

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[He strips off his waistcoat and hangs it over a chair.] No.

So we're simply... getting a kitten.

Yes. Apparently Doctor McCoy's cat had a bit too much fun. When I teased him about it, he foisted one of the animals on me. Or will, once they're born. [He ducks into his room to change into dry clothes, but the door is open, so the conversation can continue.]

[He laughs a bit.]

Well, a cat won't take up much room.

Though you will be in charge of feeding it.

Yes, yes. You sound like my father when I brought home a stray dog.

Why does it not surprise me that you brought home strays?

[Says the man who, as a boy, would leave food out for animals he saw around.]

Well, it was just the one, really. We didn't live in a town, so there weren't many to be found. Just one starving, hollow-eyed mongrel, gentle as could be. Something like you when you first came aboard Justinian.

Which is why I am not surprised. [He chuckles again.] You do take in the pathetic-looking ones and take care of them. Me, Mr. Wellard...

You'd have liked young Mr. Hammond, I think.

Hm? Another mid, I suppose?

Edited 2011-05-16 23:08 (UTC)

He was. Bright young man, requested to serve with me. He knew nothing of the sea or war except what his books taught him and his uncle's stories contained...

I was not nearly as patient as I ought to have been.

What do you mean?

He got underfoot... I left Mr. Orrock-- another midshipman-- and Mr. Bush to worry about him. Matthews took to him, took to helping him, making sure he got by.

I had so little time for him. Perhaps if I had... If I'd spoken to him more...

[Something about this, Horatio worrying and fussing and blaming himself for every lost soul, causes something to swell in Archie's chest.] You haven't changed.

He didn't trust me. [A pause and a sigh.] I'd given him no reason to.

[Archie knows, and knows Horatio knows, that trust doesn't have to be earned on a ship. It's a necessity. You have to trust your captain knows what's on the other end of his plan, and act accordingly or this mystical outcome will never happen. You have to trust the ratings will reef the sail properly, that the midshipmen are in control of their divisions, because you can't possibly worry about every function on the ship yourself--not when that is the duty of hundreds of men. If trust is betrayed by a superior, there's little to be done about it. If it's betrayed by a junior, said junior is weeded out. But Horatio has always had a vicious double standard when it comes to himself. He can't be God on his own ship. He has to touch every individual man and make him his willing co-worker.]

If you'd been too patient with him, he'd have ended up getting himself killed. Perhaps he simply wasn't a quick enough learner.

He was killed.

[Horatio could not blame himself for that death. He shared part of the blame for the circumstances that led to it, yes, but the blood was on Wolfe's hands and the elder Captain Hammond's hands.]

[...Oh. It doesn't come as a complete surprise, considering all the past tense Horatio had used, but it wasn't entirely predicted.]

If you're looking for someone to tell you you failed him--that you didn't do all you could do--the utter shipwreck you turned into a man isn't going to be of any help.

I should have done more.

[It's just something about Archie. He can't help but smile every so slightly as the smallest trace of humour enters his voice.]

Besides, Mr. Kennedy, you're not supposed to argue with your captain. [A pause as he realizes what he said. Then the quiet correction.] A captain.

No-no, Horatio, you said it right the first time. [You were always my captain, even when you were a midshipman, a lieutenant, a prisoner.]

Edited 2011-05-17 02:59 (UTC)

[He can't help but grin.]

We'd have been unstoppable. [There's nothing I can't do with you by my side.]

[His smile fades quickly. Maybe it's because he's accepted this life more than he ever thought he could, but Horatio speaking as if it's merely what could have been deflates him a bit. After a few rapid blinks, he takes a breath.]

You didn't moor Jack's boat properly.

[Horatio, mind still trying to separate this world from the one he knew, didn't realize how his phrasing might have been taken. He thought for a moment at the words and then shrugged.]

I suppose I didn't.

...In my defence, I did have a book writing back to me and speaking to me. Rather disconcerting.

Yes, a bit. I'll have to tell you how I first came here. But you should apologize to Jack eventually. He did have to chase the damned thing down.

I will. [And he means it.] This town needs a proper dock. Or the boat needs an anchor.

We could build a dock. It would certainly be used. I know a few who are trying to build a boat of their own.

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