Lies, deceit. It was all part of the CYA tactics that Irene was so used to. That did not mean she liked them. Such things meant stealth and cleverness. While Irene was, admittedly bragging, very clever, her kind did not do subtle well. She was the point of the sword. A brawler meant to duke it out in the ring. She left subtle to the small boys.
Irene fingered the new insignia on her collar. Commander Irene Connie Franklin had a nice ring to it, she admitted. Her mind wondered to her sisters. Madeline and Wilma had yet to be brought back although she was well aware that they would be. Norma Jean was already in service, beating her by two years. And if her endless bragging was to be believed she was having the time of her life kicking ass in Beirut. Typical.
Irene grinned, leaning back against her superstructure. She idly checked her watch. 2 more minutes and then her watch ended. And she was free to go out into town. New Orleans already knew of her. Philadelphia was nice and all but they didn't have a decent bar to save their asses. Irene made a point to discover the finest watering holes in her new "home". And in the deep south, there were a few of them!
She heard someone coming up behind her. "C-Commander." A nervous young Lieutenant stood there fiddling with his hands. Lucky for him Irene was not one to stand on ceremony. "Go ahead Lieutenant." She said gently. "I am your relief ma'am." "I stand relieved." Irene grinned and after handing her watch equipment over to him she turned to go. "Ma'am I also have a message for you from the captain." She paused and faced him. "Go ahead." "He says have fun don't break nobody. And try to keep the property damage to a minimum." Irene grinned. Captain Moosley was a decent officer from the little Irene had seen of him thus far. And unlike some of her previous captains did not try to stop her shore side habits. Probably because the navy had learned how hopeless it was. Irene was a true sailor at heart. Hard drinking, furious swearing, and in her case, a man in every port. So, in true sailor fashion she snapped off a quick salute to the lieutenant and replied "Understood. I'll try not to break one too many fucking glasses." Thus she slipped quietly into town after a quick change out of her uniform. The nearest watering hole was less than a quarter mile from the Iowa. Irene quickly found a barstool, plopped herself down in it and knocked back a mug of beer in one gulp. Ah it was good to be back.