If I'm stepping on toes here, let me know. --Mal
War Department, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
November 23, 1940 (Event +4 days)
“Lieutenant.”
“Retired, sir.” The ‘lieutenant’ in question was a tall man in his mid thirties, with close-cropped hair and a pencil mustache. In civilian clothes he looked much like an average worker, or perhaps a policeman.
Abell shook his head. “Not any more, Lieutenant Commander.” The now ex-lieutenant’s eyebrows rose at the new rank. “The General Staff has decided to recall you to duty.”
“That’s... swell, sir. But why? Surely there are plenty of lieutenant commanders in the Navy as it is.”
“There are, but that’s not why we’re recalling you.” Abell examined the stack of papers on his desk. “You’re making something of a name for yourself in the pulps these days, aren’t you, Lieutenant Commander?”
“Yes sir. It’s not the most glamorous of work, but it keeps body and soul together.” The light went on in the commander’s eyes. “That’s why you’re recalling me, isn’t it? It’s something to do with this Mysteron flabble. Sir.”
John Abell was not a man given to expressions of approval, but a faint note of satisfaction glimmered in his eyes. “Very good, Lieutenant Commander. The President has agreed to meet with the, ah, new neighbors in two days time. You will be part of the General Staff’s contribution to the meeting.”
“The General Staff thinking I have some sort of insight into the Mysterons that more sober generals and admirals might miss?”
“I couldn’t possibly say,” Abell replied, which was for the commander all but shouting ‘YES!’ to the heavens.
The commander snapped off a perfect parade-ground salute. “Sir! I will do my duty!”
“Very good, Commander Heinlein. Dismissed. Get yourself some new dress blues from Quartermaster; your briefing packet will be delivered to your hotel room.”
Mr. Fnord interdimensional man of mystery
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"I. Drink. Your. NERDRAGE!"
War Department, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
November 23, 1940 (Event +4 days)
“Lieutenant.”
“Retired, sir.” The ‘lieutenant’ in question was a tall man in his mid thirties, with close-cropped hair and a pencil mustache. In civilian clothes he looked much like an average worker, or perhaps a policeman.
Abell shook his head. “Not any more, Lieutenant Commander.” The now ex-lieutenant’s eyebrows rose at the new rank. “The General Staff has decided to recall you to duty.”
“That’s... swell, sir. But why? Surely there are plenty of lieutenant commanders in the Navy as it is.”
“There are, but that’s not why we’re recalling you.” Abell examined the stack of papers on his desk. “You’re making something of a name for yourself in the pulps these days, aren’t you, Lieutenant Commander?”
“Yes sir. It’s not the most glamorous of work, but it keeps body and soul together.” The light went on in the commander’s eyes. “That’s why you’re recalling me, isn’t it? It’s something to do with this Mysteron flabble. Sir.”
John Abell was not a man given to expressions of approval, but a faint note of satisfaction glimmered in his eyes. “Very good, Lieutenant Commander. The President has agreed to meet with the, ah, new neighbors in two days time. You will be part of the General Staff’s contribution to the meeting.”
“The General Staff thinking I have some sort of insight into the Mysterons that more sober generals and admirals might miss?”
“I couldn’t possibly say,” Abell replied, which was for the commander all but shouting ‘YES!’ to the heavens.
The commander snapped off a perfect parade-ground salute. “Sir! I will do my duty!”
“Very good, Commander Heinlein. Dismissed. Get yourself some new dress blues from Quartermaster; your briefing packet will be delivered to your hotel room.”
Mr. Fnord interdimensional man of mystery
FenWiki - Your One-Stop Shop for Fenspace Information
"I. Drink. Your. NERDRAGE!"