0900Hours, June 21, 2552(military calendar),onboard UNSC Alaska
It may seem as a good thing to be the head on an entire military branch, but in Reality it isnt. Regardless of how self sufficient it is. Or how small it is. The responsibility is still great. It was a relatively easy task for the first CINC to manage a whole battalion. He wrote the book and Created a charter for future members. Now to the current cinc, he deals with armies and Sections that can Rival the Colonial Coast guard in terms of numbers and supplies.
Now as commander In chief (CINC) of said branch he can say its a lot easier said than done. This is considering the fact that he uses a chain of command and a Dumb AIs assistance which helps in many departments. However he has to obey human superiors within the ship and in HIGHCOM. Otherwise it was his planning just like in a highschool.
The humans were mostly Officers or Veterinarians, both of which are in very short supply here. Often leaving the young CO to wonder, Why put him, a Pembroke of all breeds as a De-facto Commander of this branch. He cant do a major independent desision without the human officer staff breathing down his collar. However the human officers onboard did give him some annoying moments but not as much as the ONI liaison on the UNSC Dart, the flag ship Prowler of the flotilla of spy ships lent to them by ONI . Mostly for their cloak and dagger missions with innes which oddly enough is a large problem considering this situation.
The only humans that didnt give him any problems was the SPARTANs. They almost never say a word and they didn't breath down everyones neck while onboard. He and the nonhuman staff were grateful for the SPARTANs continued politeness. But some like him knew or had an idea of what was really going on.
Hence the saying in their Special forces, "Samurai die once, SPARTANs die a thousand battles. "
Today he really missed the good old days when humans killed each other for almost petty reasons. As a dog you play a part in a war but the majority can ignore that fact. Thanks to the covies he and every other sentient nonhuman of earth origin was in danger of being killed to the point total extinction. It was everyone's war. Thus their fate hung in the balance with humanitys' triumph or failure. So far it has been a bloody war even with the multi year gap he had from unsc space.
He was around during the first years of the war. Then for a long time he was out on a forced R&R to return home. During that leave of absence Fleetcom declared them MIA. When enough time passed HIGHCOM assembled another small pet fleet in six months. What they got was mostly used converted civilian ships. Something that was nessary at the time. Later A destroyer was added thus becoming the flagship.
Another revelation showed that the replacing CINCK9 ,47 (117 and a half)at the time, continued the practice of keeping the Collars of all pets they came across or served with them. These where added later on to the main collection along with the tally of Unknowns numbering in the millions by now. The commander died Almost a year later after their return. He did so quietly in his sleep. Later on someone commented on how he was lucky to die peacefully as apposed to a violent one. A death that was woefully all too common.
As he sits in his chair in his small office he reflects on how much has changed. How much his circle of friends has diminished over the course of time. How much people changed thanks to this costly war.
How many will need to die? How may years? How many rivers of blood sweat and tears will be shed? How many more will be broken by the sheer realities of this dog forsaken war!?
This is the oppressing truth of this war. It loomed over every decision he makes. The constant fear that soon their would be no where to run, standing helpless in the face of extinction, and if that is not enough the question of who will die next. Today it was thousands like those before them. But that left tomorrow, if there is one, it could be everyone in the crew of the alaska including his wife and pups.
However for now the simple thing such as Food which was hardly a problem. This is considering dry kibble is Much Easier to produce than the standard MRE. The Water was fine and ample throughout the ship. Then theres the Air everyone breaths which could be recycled on the ship.
However on the other paw, His budget was mainly ' generous ' donations from the other branches. Its often variable on the time and morel. Morale was almost always low which result in low yields of finding. Which often leaves them to scavenging or as anyone else would call it,looting. Its mainly other non- mass productive items such as Metal ore for customized arms, tools, Parts, and covie weapons to trade with ONI for other things. His worries always drains the Simple joy of living out of him sometimes making him wish he died with everyone on his planet during the inne war.
One thing he wished he could do is drown his sorrows but, he didnt have time. How he wished he could leave with the fleet and colonize another world to avoid this war. Avoid the Dying. If only he could. He feels helpless to stop the dying around him and it seemed like the future would need another room to store the deads collars and tags. His only hope is that another room wont be needed.
He takes a deep breath and sighs trying to . Its almost dinner perhaps he could finish a few more forms before going below to the mess hall. Its kibble tonight. Again. Like most days and unlike most a request to organize a music concert in one of the hangers during a trip in slip space. He looks over it once, thinks about the pros and cons, and then signs it to be approved by the human officers which may happen. But then again, probably not.
