Note: No, he is not secretly Napoleon! Hmmph!
With a final scanning glance, The commodore pulled out a chair and perched on it, resting his chin on his hand. It was only then that Pellew noticed that he was rather on the smallish side for a man, not astonishingly so, but it was noticeable. He barely avoided smiling to himself. The man's rather hot temper and overbearing personality gave him the impression of being much bigger than he actually was. Harker suddenly lifted his head, and gave Pellew a sharp look.
'Something funny, Mr...?' snapped the commodore. Gray eyes bored into brown ones. Pellew winced, and dropped his gaze. Perhaps he had not been entirely successful in hiding his smile.
'Pellew, sir. And no, nothing is funny' This earned him a glare from the commodore, which then abruptly turned into a concentrated frown as Harker began speaking.
'Gentlemen, I'm afraid I have been ordered not to tell you the particulars of this voyage,' said Harker, with the slightest trace of a sneer on the world 'ordered' 'However, since there is no point in you sailing off unprepared, I am permitted to give you some of the finer points.' He was not trying in the least to hide his disgust in the admiral. Pellew felt a surge of anger. He didn't like the admiral, but this was going too far. With an uncharacteristic lack of self control, he said sarcastically,
'Oh and I suppose you are above being ordered about by a mere admiral!' The look of pure anger the commodore gave him cowed him immediately. He just knew he was blushing. Good god! The man had a nasty stare. But with a stubbornness he wouldn't have previously credited himself with, he forced himself to look the commodore in the eye. But what was this? Harker's glare softened, until it was a distinct but faint grudging respect.
'A bit outspoken, are we not?' Harker mocked quietly. 'Still, if captains are allowed to criticize commodores, why can't a commodore express a certain dislike of the orders he has been given? Hmmm?'
'Sorry sir, I spoke in haste' Was it just him, or did Harker look disappointed? Surely he didn't wish him to be insubordinate? Pellew was still puzzling over his commanding officer's strange ways when Harker continued,
'We are to sail out to an undisclosed location, and bargain for allies. In the event we do not make a....favorable impression, each ship will carry a division of lobsters.' Pellew looked up in astonishment. It sounded odd for such an obviously genteel man to use a slang word.
'Who are these allies, sir?' piped up the captain to the right of Foster. When Harker locked eyes with the poor captain, as seemed to be his habit, the poor man visibly wilted. He wasn't strong looking in the first place, what with his boyish round face and clear blue eyes, and now he looked limp and terrified. Pellew could feel some sympathy for the man, now that he had been submitted to the very same treatment.
'That is one of the important details deemed confidential by the admiral, Mr..?'
'Hill' was the meek reply.
'Very well', said Harker, with total lack of expression. 'With the allies, we are to protect Ireland from Bonaparte.' Now that this very official speech was over, he lapsed back into his normal shrewd stare. 'And so, gentlemen, I suggest you start trying to find your crew, and supplying your ship. If by three weeks you are not ready to make sail.' -here he paused for effect- 'you will have to answer to me.' He rose, signaling the end of the meeting.
Pellew's heart sank. He'd been so preoccupied with the orders he'd forgotten the necessity of finding his crew. The two foremost concerns of captains were where to find a crew, and how to stop it from deserting once he found it. Suppressing several choice curses he'd learned from his midshipman days, he stumped off to supervise the outfitting of the Indefatigable.
With a final scanning glance, The commodore pulled out a chair and perched on it, resting his chin on his hand. It was only then that Pellew noticed that he was rather on the smallish side for a man, not astonishingly so, but it was noticeable. He barely avoided smiling to himself. The man's rather hot temper and overbearing personality gave him the impression of being much bigger than he actually was. Harker suddenly lifted his head, and gave Pellew a sharp look.
'Something funny, Mr...?' snapped the commodore. Gray eyes bored into brown ones. Pellew winced, and dropped his gaze. Perhaps he had not been entirely successful in hiding his smile.
'Pellew, sir. And no, nothing is funny' This earned him a glare from the commodore, which then abruptly turned into a concentrated frown as Harker began speaking.
'Gentlemen, I'm afraid I have been ordered not to tell you the particulars of this voyage,' said Harker, with the slightest trace of a sneer on the world 'ordered' 'However, since there is no point in you sailing off unprepared, I am permitted to give you some of the finer points.' He was not trying in the least to hide his disgust in the admiral. Pellew felt a surge of anger. He didn't like the admiral, but this was going too far. With an uncharacteristic lack of self control, he said sarcastically,
'Oh and I suppose you are above being ordered about by a mere admiral!' The look of pure anger the commodore gave him cowed him immediately. He just knew he was blushing. Good god! The man had a nasty stare. But with a stubbornness he wouldn't have previously credited himself with, he forced himself to look the commodore in the eye. But what was this? Harker's glare softened, until it was a distinct but faint grudging respect.
'A bit outspoken, are we not?' Harker mocked quietly. 'Still, if captains are allowed to criticize commodores, why can't a commodore express a certain dislike of the orders he has been given? Hmmm?'
'Sorry sir, I spoke in haste' Was it just him, or did Harker look disappointed? Surely he didn't wish him to be insubordinate? Pellew was still puzzling over his commanding officer's strange ways when Harker continued,
'We are to sail out to an undisclosed location, and bargain for allies. In the event we do not make a....favorable impression, each ship will carry a division of lobsters.' Pellew looked up in astonishment. It sounded odd for such an obviously genteel man to use a slang word.
'Who are these allies, sir?' piped up the captain to the right of Foster. When Harker locked eyes with the poor captain, as seemed to be his habit, the poor man visibly wilted. He wasn't strong looking in the first place, what with his boyish round face and clear blue eyes, and now he looked limp and terrified. Pellew could feel some sympathy for the man, now that he had been submitted to the very same treatment.
'That is one of the important details deemed confidential by the admiral, Mr..?'
'Hill' was the meek reply.
'Very well', said Harker, with total lack of expression. 'With the allies, we are to protect Ireland from Bonaparte.' Now that this very official speech was over, he lapsed back into his normal shrewd stare. 'And so, gentlemen, I suggest you start trying to find your crew, and supplying your ship. If by three weeks you are not ready to make sail.' -here he paused for effect- 'you will have to answer to me.' He rose, signaling the end of the meeting.
Pellew's heart sank. He'd been so preoccupied with the orders he'd forgotten the necessity of finding his crew. The two foremost concerns of captains were where to find a crew, and how to stop it from deserting once he found it. Suppressing several choice curses he'd learned from his midshipman days, he stumped off to supervise the outfitting of the Indefatigable.