The Selkie wrote:SDFS Rhiannon (a.k.a. Old Lady Rhi, don't call her that if you value your life).
Hi.
It's me again.
With my steak, I returned to my table not far away, where there were some people already sitting. I spent thirteen years as a helicopter carrier, from 1972 to the missile hit in the Second Vellenge War 1985, so I had been invited to the Carrier Meetup and as that had separated into small groups, I had found myself with Sealgaire, the submarine aircraft carrier SDFS F-8 Fulmaire and RKN Lempo, a Hukm-class Aircraft Carrier from Kyrenaia named in honour of a female demon in Ihmiset Mythology.
We had all gone our ways to get food and drink and were now returning to our table, I was actually the last. “My apologies for the delay, I was kept.”, I apologized.
“We saw.”, Fulmaire told me, shook her head, “Youth these days...”
She wanted to continue, when Constantine came up.
“Excuse me, but my superior wished to have a word with you.”, she said and I was about to deny both their request, seeing that I had literally better things to do, but before I could get a word in edgewise, the tirade already started.
I thought quickly, turned on the ol' radio and transmitted the rant, in its entirety, to everyone in range, drawing quite a bit of attention.
So, he was offended by me calling them a quartet of scrap metal and failures, which they were, the excuse being that I didn't see them – hang on... negotiating with pirates?! Negotiating?! Fucking negotiating?! With pirates?!
Was this immature little fuck of a wanna-be flagship fucking serious?! Negotiating with pirates?!
Pirates are to be given no quarter. Kill them all. Let the Gods sort them out., was the Standing Order 5 of the SDF-Navy, In Kyrenaia, it was Pirate vessels are to be sunk. Survivors are to be rescued and hung.
NEGOTIATING?!
Apparently, I was not the only one, who was incredulous and, in some cases, quite miffed.
And his other excuse was, that they were reservists.
In any case – had this tablet-guy, apparently his name was Atlas, too, ever considered, that they had given us no reason to respect them and all the more reason to dislike them? Just a thought.
And then, he had the gall to pull an End of Discussion-move. The fucking nerve!
However, instead of leaving me speechless, struggling for words or otherwise miffed, I laughed out loud and I was not the only one. Everyone within a good two dozen metres laughed out loud, loud enough to be picked up by the tablet.
And it was not aimed at me, either, but at the tablet-guy.
“Wait, hang on!”, a voice said, belonging to a Kyrenaian carrier – RKN Alaibhibu, a Shajaea-class Light Aircraft Carrier, two decades my junior. “I could have been an immature, impolite, unprofessional and inept piece of scrap metal while with the Reserve Fleet? Why didn't anyone tell me? Karkadann?!”
The older, larger Kyrenaian Carrier shook her head. “No, the RKN is a professional navy, not whatever bunch of traitors to humanity, which negotiates with pirates, that alliance is supposed to be!”
“No, no, no, stop right there, Miss Karkadann!”, Naya, the Teressian Carrier, said over the agreeing murmurs, “You are creating a toxic, hostile and unsafe environment.” She spoke as if she was speaking to a child. It was a mockery of tablet-guy and it was obvious in it, too. “What will be next? Sending these poor, poor warships out to war? Where they might bump their toes?”
That created a shockwave of laughs.
At this point, we were not teasing them, we were making fun of the quartet.
“That... what was it, Rhi? Quartet of failures and scrap metal?”, Sealgaire asked for everyone's consideration. I nodded. “No, that needs to be shorter... quartet of rustbuckets?”
“Short-shafted guy and his make-believe harem!”, one of the LBTs, Spardrí, I think she was, proposed.
“Dinky Dinghy Squadron.”, a corvette, one of the Scoths, threw in.
That drew more approval.
“Driftwood Quartet.”, another Scoth chimed in.
“Statement.”, SDFS Nead Foiche, a drone carrier with a calm, even voice, stated, “I find Tub-of-Lard-Freighters fitting.”
That caused chuckles. “I give you a 2 for the effort.”, I told Nead, who smiled.
“Statement – a good grade is almost very good.”, she said to more general amusement.
“Unsat Unit.”, one of the Teressians, one of the Lattenzaun-sisters, even, proposed.
“Now that might be a bit too much!”, I moderated. Unsat, or unsatisfactory, was a grave insult in many navies, as it meant, that the own work was indeed that, unsatisfactory – and there was nothing sailors hated more then being called unsat. “Sure, they are a bunch of whiny brats, who run to their flagship every time they meet opposition, who then tells me to not pull rank while trying to pull rank, and failing at that, who run away because the mean, mean lady sad something mean and... actually, put Unsat Unit on the list.”
“FLOB Troupe.”, a calm, gentle voice chimed in. RKN Shaytin moved sensually, with a sway of her hips belying her more gothic style, into the spotlight. “Freeloading Oxygen Breathers. Make a guess, where that one comes from.” There was a round of chuckles as one of the Scoths was beginning to crush hard on her. “Or we just call them boring.”
That got, especially from a woman of Shaytin's disposition and character, a lot of attention – the vampiric woman, and nuclear attack submarine, used boring as an insult.
“I think we stick with Dinky Dinghy Squadron. It sounds twee.”, I decided with a smile, then shrugged, “But ultimately, we must soon wave the Dinky Dinghy Squadron goodbye, everyone, as you heard the tablet-guy, who thinks, that negotiating with pirates is a good idea...” A round of disappointed noises, most of them played. “...because we are so disrespectful towards people, who gave us no reason to show them respect and all the more reason to dislike them, and to make them feel it, he is ordering them home.”
I turned on my seat, addressing the four: “Remember, though, Dinky Dinghy Squadron – you were assured Free Passage, you will get Free Passage out of the Free Lands' Exclusive Economic Zone. Bearing 1-4-5 is the quickest.”
SDFS Dragan.
“Hush, I wanna hear that.”, I told whichever of the quartet of scrap metal and failures, soon to be renamed the Dinky Dinghy Squadron, approached me as Rhi was approached.
I chuckled several times, but once the main act was over and the name search began, I turned to whichever of them it was. If they thought, that they could take Old Lady Rhi, of all shippeople, down a peg, on her home turf, while admitting they were negotiating with pirates, they were... wrong, to say the least.
They were also wrong in believing... well, other way around.
“Now, when will your food be ready?”, I returned the question with a grin, that would make the Cheshire Cat look as if she was depressed. “Remember the part with the Police Boy? The guy, who told you, that I can deny you service for any reason I see fit?”
I left that a moment to let that sink in.
“You rust buckets thought tablet-guy, and no, I don't give a flying fuck about his name, can talk down Old Lady Rhi – and while this should make me pity your stupidity, girlie, it makes me angry at you. I know Rhi, for decades now, I fought at her side more often then I can count, and she has a lot of points.”, I told her, “Plus, you negotiate with pirates.” I let a beat pass. “All reasons for me to deny you service. I'm afraid you'll have to leave hungry. Dismissed.”
I turned back to the line.
“Who wants a floor tile sized steak?!”, I called out, “I also have a few flatbreads and asparagi, chicken and fish!”
“Fish for meeee!”, Ochtapas called out, her tentacle hair raising one tentacle to make people aware of her.
It worked.
"Understandable," replied Constantine with a calm expression. That...wasn't supposed to be her reaction to Dragan. Constantine's response was calm, too calm in fact. Upon hearing the Selkies and their allies make a mockery of the four, this was enough to piss off NSCS Atlas. But rather than flipping out, he calmly said to Constantine and Koikaze, "I want both of you to drag NCS Atlas and SFS Alexander out. If these people don't want any of you four here, then so be it. From now o---" He paused, "Grand Marshal Borealis?! What are you doing here?!"
A male voice is heard though the voice is indiscernible. "Y-You heard them, too?" asked NSCS Atlas. The same indiscernible voice is heard again on the tablet. "Understood. Constantine, Alexander, get those two out. Wake them up if you have to. As per the request of Grand Marshal Borealis III, any and all invitations from those folks' nations will be and forevermore be denied and rejected regardless of whatever the folks want to do. Those folks have filled the criteria needed to disallow any form of invitations from non-Coalition nations. If they're going to call you four collectively something mocking, then those ships don't deserve to be present in the three Triumvirate nations' presence. Withdraw now."
"And what about Grand Marshal Borealis III?" Koikaze asked NSCS Atlas on the tablet worryingly. "Grand Marshal Borealis III said he is going to discuss this matter with the rest of the federal government, after which any and all sorts of contact - even if they are invitations - from these mocking folks will be rejected. That's right, Borealis III is going to talk about these folks' behaviors in a meeting with the rest of the Novayan government and the Triumvirate as well as letting them (Triumvirate and Novayan government) know of what you four had experienced. After all, even the Grand Marshal and his friends in Nova Roma, Saiyane, Fuso and China have had no tolerance for bullshit, especially those spewed forth by those folks I heard mocking you four. They want to mock any of you four or us? Fine, they don't care about the individual persons' mental health. At least those peoples' mockery of you four will have impacted NCS Atlas and SFS Alexander."
And so, the four (assuming NCS Atlas and SFS Alexander were awaken forcibly by Constantine and Koikaze) pulled out of the festival with all their things. The amount of mockery is enough reason for all four to never, ever join anything that involves their mockers. It was a good thing for the Selkies and their allies, right?
A shame that such mockery have negative, unforeseen consequences.