Indy Voices

Note: This is something that I was playing with this week. It shouldn't be all that hard to guess who's doing the talking.

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"Well, I think that he's got Simpson and Kennedy and the other Mid's beat all to 'ell, that's what I think."

"The ship's cat has got Simpson beat. That's not sayin much."

"Ah, come on, 'e's smart, real smart. I'd bet that 'e's smarter even than the Cap'n."

"'E's smart, but 'e's still a lad."

"'E's an officer, no matter wot 'is age is. And don't you forget that."

"Officers ain't always wot they's cracked up to be, that's for sure, if you ask me."

"Yeah, well, 'e is, an that's a fact…. you saw 'im on that fire ship. 'E saved your sorry arse, 'e did."

"Can you imagine if 'e didn't get 'is Lieutenant's coat after that? 'Ell to pay. E's the best the Cap'n's got, and that's no lie. E knows it, too. You seen 'ow 'e treats 'em, jus like 'e was 'is son."

"Cap'n knows that 'e's got a good one there. Knows that if anything 'appens to 'im, Mr. 'Ornblower would 'ave to run things."

"You don't know that. Lieutenant Bracegirdle knows wot's wot, 'e does."

"Sure, but 'e ain't got that spark that Mr. 'Ornblower's got. You can see that a mile away. Anyone could see that."

"Right you are on that one. 'E's got the goods, and there's no arguing that one"

"I bet 'e gets 'is Broad Pennant before 'e's done. 'E will, you mark my words on that."

"And you'd like to still be sailin with 'im when 'e hangs that from the mast, wouldn't you?"

"Course, you'd 'ave to do the 'angin for 'im. 'E won't be climbin those masts then. 'E don't like to do it now."

"Too right on that one. But who else would you rather be with, eh? Tell me that. 'E's the chinks and there's no two ways about it."

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"Well, it's just bloody unfair, that's all. He gets another commendation every time he belches, for the love of God. It's getting a bit tired, don't you think?"

"That combined with the fact that Pellew thinks the sun rises and sets on his head gets a little hard to take in my mind, thank you."

"It's not like he's the only officer on the damn ship, I mean we are here, are we not? Correct me if I'm mistaken in this, gentlemen."

"To hear the crew talk, he's the living and breathing embodiment of a rabbit's foot, a horseshoe and four leaf clover all rolled into one."

"Have you ever seen his division lord over the other ratings that they're Hornblower's lads and they aren't? I would have thought that would lead to fighting, but the other men seem to accept that they're bested in some unspoken contest that we're unaware of."

"Not to mention that we've also been bested in this unspoken competition. Have you noticed that we are all decidedly second class when he's about?"

"You're too right about that, old man."

"And have you ever seen them dance attendance on him? 'What can we get you, sir?' Is there anything else, sir?' God, you'd think that he was their father, mother and minister all rolled into one, let alone their officer."

"Pellew's attitude is the one that galls me the most. It's as if we were just place fillers. Bloody ciphers beside his lordship, for the love of God."

"I swear, if Hornblower farted, Pellew would declare it a symphony."

"Have you heard the latest? The Admiralty, in their wisdom, has decided that he's to be granted his full commission after that little adventure with the fire ship. Never mind that he failed the examination. They've decided that he's a full Lieutenant and so he is one."

"Well, they could hardly break him back to Mid after saving the fleet, you know. Give some credit where it's due."

"As if anyone of us couldn't have done the same thing given the chance."

"Well, perhaps, but I point out that he is the one who actually did manage to do the deed."

"Don't tell me that you side with Saint Horatio, do you?"

"May I remind you that you are speaking of a fellow officer who has, to the best of my knowledge, never acted with less than professionalism and honor. You are being a bit unfair here, you know."

"Oh, please. And whose side are you on?"

"The Indy's."

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"I think that it would be a good idea to host a dinner to celebrate his promotion. This evening would be suitable."

"Yes, sir… if you wish."

"If I wish? That's damning with faint praise if ever I heard it. Are you saying that you have some sort of reservations? Whatever would they be, might I ask?"

"Well, sir, permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Of course you've permission. What on earth is on your mind?"

"Sir, I fear that there seems to be some resentment directed towards him. It seems to me that it is based largely on simple jealousy. I could be mistaken, of course, but it might not be a good idea to push this right now."

"Jealousy? Indeed. Well, if that's the case, I would suggest that anyone suffering from that particular affliction might do well to find a quick cure. The dinner will take place at seven bells this evening. Please pass the word, if you would be so kind."

"Sir, if I may. I believe that some of the other officers seem to think that there is favoritism at work here and that he has been the beneficiary. I've heard things, gossip really, that would indicate so."

"I see. And, in your opinion, is there any validity to the concerns you've heard expressed among the officers?"

"…Sir, it does appear true that he does receive the lion share of opportunities to make a name for himself and he does seem to be on the receiving end of quite a bit of praise. Forgive my saying so, sir."

"Has it occurred to anyone that perhaps the praise and the opportunities are both earned?"

"It's true that he's a hard worker, sir."

"And has twice the brain and creativity of any man jack aboard, myself included. I would also point out that he has been wounded, been a prisoner and has Captained a quarantine ship which only, by the Grace of God, didn't succumb to plague."

"Yes, sir, that's all true, certainly."

"He also commands loyalty from his men like no one else I've seen, short of Nelson himself. You've seen this yourself countless times. Am I not correct?"

"I would never deny that, sir. I would agree, in fact, but he is still quite young whereas some of the older men are concerned…"

"Would do well to attempt to reach the standards set by our new Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir."

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I've watched him make his way around the ship as he goes about his business. He never seems to hurry unless some emergency causes the need. He just walks with a sureness that gets him from place to place.

Never raises his voice, either. The others all yell and shout and curse to make their wants known. He just speaks in his normal voice and somehow the men-even the ones who aren't his, just jump to as though a lash was about to land. Oh, he knows the words, has even been known to use them on occasion, but rarely. Doesn't seem to need them, doesn't even seem to like them. He just asks, even says 'please' and 'thank you' and then expects his request to be fulfilled. The damnedest thing is that it always is.

He gets along with almost everyone, but has almost no intimates. Kennedy, sure, thick as thieves, those two. Pellew. Is he a friend? Probably not, he's the Captain and doesn't have friends, at least not on board. That would be foolish, and Pellew is no fool. He likes to talk to Hornblower, though, you can see that. They play whist together with Bracey and one of the Mid's. I've even heard that the Captain asks the boy in for a game of chess once every week or two. 'Heard him telling Chadd, before the poor bastard was killed, that Hornblower was the only one aboard who could give him a good game.

Christ, they'll be having tea parties before you know it.

Kennedy will likely benefit from the fallout of being in the shadow, trailing in the wake of the fair-haired child.

Bloody unfair.

Poor boy from Kent, indeed. He'll end up with a bloody star on his chest before he's through. Pellew will see to that, Damnit.

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"Well, gentlemen, to the King."

"To the King." "The King."

"And to our new Lieutenant. Mr. Hornblower."

"Mr. Hornblower." "Here, Here."

"Ah, a decent vintage, my compliments to the French, may they rot in Hell, but may they first allow us to capture more of their wine."

"I'll second that, if you don't mind."

"I'm sure that we can count on Lieutenant Hornblower to locate and liberate some reasonable brandy for us, gentlemen, wouldn't you say?"

"I fear that he will put us all to shame before we're much older, unless I miss my guess."

"Which will leave us with more time to practice our whist and chess, I dare say."

"My compliments to your steward, Captain. The veal is outstanding, if I may say so. Thank God that we still have the benefit of fresh meat."

"Yes, well, that won't last for much longer, gentlemen. We've received our orders this afternoon. We'll be well away by this time tomorrow. I was planning on telling you all with the cheese course this evening. The supplies were all finished loading today and there's nothing to delay us. We sail with the land breeze in the morning."

"Might we inquire where we'll be off to this time, sir?"

"No, you may not. You'll learn when you need to know and not before."

"Of course, forgive me, sir."

"Gentlemen, as we are sailing at dawn, I would suggest that we call it an evening so that we might all make our final preparations and that we might all be rested for the morning. Good Evening."

"Yes, sir, thank you."

"Mr. Hornblower, would you wait just a moment, if you please?"

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"Did you bloody believe that? Thanks us for our time, dismisses us with the staff and has his boy stay behind for a nightcap. Bleeding Hell."

"They're likely just having another game of chess."

"Is that what you think?"

"Jesus, Jonathan, you're not actually suggesting that…"

"No, of course not that. Give me some credit, will you? I'm merely pointing out that the favored son has retained his position for yet another sailing."

"You're going to hang yourself with that talk. Every Captain has his favorites; you know that as well as I do. You'd do well to keep a tongue in your head."

"I always do."

"Well, if you're so unhappy here, you could simply request a transfer. Perhaps you'll be the fair haired boy on your next ship."

"Small chance of either happening. If I were to request a transfer, the Admiralty would ask why, not to mention the Captain. And the thought of being anyone's favorite is a tightrope I'd rather not walk, thank you. Too easy to fall off and break your neck."

"Then rather than complaining, you might want to thank the lad next time you see him for relieving you of the awkwardness of having to say no to the Captain."

"Oh, do shut up."

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"Knight to King four."

"Forgive me, sir, but that would be a mistake. You're in a bit of trouble over here. My Bishop will have your Queen if you do that."

"So he shall, hiding over there behind that pawn. Right. Queen to Rook seven."

"I'm afraid that's check, sir…and mate."

"Damn, you've been practicing, Lieutenant. Would you care for another brandy? It might be my only hope."

"Thank you, sir, no. I should get some sleep, if you'll forgive me."

"Yes, of course. Sounds like good advice for both of us."

"Good night, sir, and thank you, dinner was a pleasure."

"You're welcome, Mr. Hornblower. And Mr. Hornblower…"

"Yes, sir?"

"Congratulations on your commission. Believe me, you were the talk at the Admiralty this week. Several Captains even went so far as to inquire if you were available for transfer. I took the liberty of telling then that you weren't. I hope that was the correct answer."

"…Yes, sir. Of course it was. If I may say so, serving with you is one of the high points of my life. I have no desire to leave the Indy anytime soon."

"Yes, well, but you will, you know, likely in a year or two. When you're ready you will move up to a ship of the line and from there to Commander of your own ship. It's inevitable. You know that as well as I do. I shall be sorry to see you leave."

"And I shall be sorry to go, sir. More than I can say."

"And I shall to be sorry to lose you, but it will be for the best. I told you after the Papillon, I saw something in you. I know now that I was right."

"…Sir, I'm honored, more than I can say."

"Yes, well, get some sleep. You'll need it the next week. We've work to do."

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"Who goes there? Oh, forgive me, sir. Didn't recognize you for a minute."

"No harm done. I was just taking a walk before turning in. All quiet?"

"Yes, sir."

"So, did you hear that the Captain has plans for his nibs again? One of the Mids heard them talking through the skylight. It seems that he's in line for a transfer to a ship of the line, likely after this voyage. From there it's just a short hop to command of his own ship."

"Well, with all respect, sir, he's probably about ready for it."

"He's nineteen bloody years old."

"Yes, sir, but that's not the point, now, is it?"

"Are you saying that you'd be willing to sail with the lad, entrust your life to him?"

"Well sir, I think that I would, now that you mention it. With respect, I think that I'd rather be with him if I couldn't be under Pellew. He just knows how to go about things, you know?"

"Ah, yes. The good luck charm of the blockade fleet, or so I've heard."

"Well, sir, he does seem to get himself and his men home safe generally."

"Bloody Hell."

"Begging your pardon, sir, but I would suggest that you should go below."

"What are you implying, Mister?"

"Sir, forgive me, but you seem to have too much spirits this evening and may regret continuing with this conversation, should you decide to continue."

"You think that I'm drunk?---Fine, but this isn't the end of this. You may mark my words on that, my good friend. He's going to be transferred soon."

"Sir, please…"

"I've a friend who's an officer on Renown. He told me that they're looking for a new Lieutenant to replace that one who was killed last week. This isn't the end of this by a long shot."

10/5/02

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