From: "Nora Rivkis" 
Date: Sat, 29 Mar 1997 04:41:51 -0500
Subject: USS CHESAPEAKE: The Makings of an Army

SD 90329.0936
1LT Shachor's Quarters:
David woke up without transition, without fully realizing
for a moment that he had been asleep. He wasn't in the
most congenial of positions for sleep, being still crouched
on the floor beside his wargame from the night before.
But it didn't bother him. He'd slept stranger places.
The sonic shower had the side effect of smoothing out
any muscles which could faintly be considered stiff, but
David had never tended to get stiff muscles from odd
positions in the first place. So he didn't have to allow
it much time to operate. Within four minutes of waking,
David was showered, dressed in one of the new uniforms
he'd had tailored on the way here, and on his way to the
men's barracks, where he'd sent brisk notes to his platoon
leaders to gather their troops at 0700. The fact that he was
twenty minutes early didn't bother him. He wouldn't penalize
anyone for not being there or in good order before the named
time. But he did want to see what they were like off-hours.
Probably, they still believed there was such a thing as off-
hours. If so, he'd correct it.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
---
Marine Barracks -- Male Troop Quarters
Only two of his platoon leaders were present, and one was
going nuts. Etienne Krauss, a young, overdedicated, Swiss
second lieutenant, had evidently decided that if Lt. Shachor
was here at 0640, the troops had to be on the ball and ready
by 0640. David watched him scurry around harrassing men
who weren't even his platoon for about four minutes, mentally
classified him as 'idiot', and walked over.
"Krauss?" Ranks were for superiors -- or when someone was
in deeper shit than David intended to give the poor man this
time.
Krauss shut up midword. "Yessir?" David hid a smile. Give
him credit for being swift on the uptake, anyway. Maybe not
a complete idiot after all.
"If I were Halivni I'd have carved a jack-o-lantern out of your
ass by now. She's *here*. You don't have to bother her men.
Matter of fact, you don't have to bother your men either, since
I personally expect to see total chaos in here from now until
0700 sharp." Most of the Marines were now watching. David
lifted his head. "After which," he added, "I expect to see the
tightest, sharpest, readiest soldiers in the Corps. Got it?"
Krauss, who had taken the moment when David's eyes were
off him to pull himself together, grinned sheepishly and did
something astonishing. "Right, sir," he acknowledged, which
wasn't the surprising thing. "Sorry, guys," he called over the
rising ruckus of bedmaking and chatter, which was.
David's opinion of the man skyrocketed. "*Nice* work," he
murmured very quietly to Krauss, meaning it. "Not everyone
thinks to apologize to his men for a screwup. Even fewer can
pull it off."
Krauss actually blushed. "I've been with them a while, sir," he
answered. "We know each other. The whole company was to-
gether on the LONDONDERRY."
David's second platoon leader had come over and he was trying
not to look at her. Galia Halivni should have waited with the women
and come in on time, but her platoon was entirely male and she
evidently preferred to be around early to make sure they were on
time. One point to her credit. She also had neither bothered them
with hurry-ups when he arrived early, nor murdered Krauss for doing
so; another point. She'd been breveted to her platoon command
after running the thing as a sergeant for six months under an un-
bearable officer aboard the LONDONDERRY, David knew from the 
company records, and she showed every sign of becoming a superbly 
capable officer.
But she was Israeli. If she had family IDF contacts, she might know
what Starfleet didn't. It was nearly an unbearable situation.
David smoothly included the woman in his conversation, without
turning his face from Krauss. "Halivni, you were platoon sergeant
on the LONDONDERRY, right? Tell me about your platoon."
She hesitated so long he thought, for a minute, that she really did
know about his past and was trying to decide whether to make use
of it in some particularly vicious way or just run from the madman.
"They're... scarred," she said at last, and he conjured up a private
image of a large cartoonlike hand with a rubber mallet to bash him-
self over the head. She'd been long gone from earth before Yael had
died. If she'd heard of him at all it was as a rising young officer with
an impressive record. Which was probably the only reason she could
speak to him without shaking, after some of the things she must have 
been through under Lt. Andersen. That and guts, credit her with guts, 
no question.
"After Andersen? I'm not surprised." David kept his tone carefully
matter-of-fact. He did look at her this time, face very serious. She
had long, dark-brown hair pinned up tight for duty; dark, watchful
eyes, and a pale, heart-shaped face that was tight right now with
fear of him. Despite his usual contempt for visible fear -- invisible
was a person's own business -- he couldn't blame her. The only
woman in the platoon Andersen had used for months as his per-
sonal and Sade-styled harem, she had suffered more than most.
There were some things psych rehab didn't cure.
"Halivni," David said gently, "you've got the hardest job in this
company. You have to take twenty-four men who have been 
persuaded they're completely helpless, and turn them into a
proud, tough fighting force again. You have allies. Me, of course.
Krauss and T'sharet -- draw on them. Do as much mixed training
as you can. The healthy soldiers will be a good influence on yours.
And your own troops' natural pride and love for what they do. It's
there, or they'd have resigned." After the Andersen incident, the
entire company, not just Andersen's platoon, had been offered
honorable retirement on generous terms if they felt they could not
find their faith in themselves or in the corps again. They had con-
sidered, in a meeting held without officers present, and to the last
of them they had refused.
Lt. Halivni was looking at him with a certain respectful confusion
behind her nervousness now. It would do, though he hoped fervently
they wouldn't have to fight in the immediate future. Or maybe that
they would; it might be what the unit needed to pull it together and
make the soldiers remember what they were. "I'm not going to go
easy on them," David continued. "Or you. They've been four months
stationside with people going easy on them, and they've come as
far as they can that way or they wouldn't be here in the first place."
He glanced over the room. The women were beginning to trickle in.
It was a good group -- quiet, businesslike but friendly; you could tell
how close the entire company was to one another. No platoon rival-
ries here, except in fun. Fun. It was a concept he was going to have
to teach them again, he was afraid; at least Galia's platoon. He could
tell them by sight: they were the ones who never took their eyes off
him. 
Halivni nodded seriously. "They're good," she volunteered, surprising
him; he was right when he'd said she had guts. "Through the worst
of it, they didn't show much. It was... a while before I found out any-
thing was happening, except to me."
"I know it," David promised. To both of them; to Lt. T'sharet, who had
joined them after bringing in the last of the female troops; to himself
and the memory of the men he'd abandoned in Lebanon once when
his mind was half shriveled by the desert and half buried with Yael,
he promised, "I'll treat them well." Then he stepped back to let them
call their platoons to order.
Respectfully Submitted,
Naomi Rivkis
1LT David Shachor
MCO, USS Chesapeake
NRPG: 
All: Well! This post didn't turn out *anything* like what I'd expected
it to. It wrote itself, and so did Krauss and Halivni; anyone is encouraged
to use either of them, btw. I'd love a chance to play David against them
(especially Galia) without having to write both sides myself every time.
I hope nobody minds my positing a screwed-up Marine company; I 
thought it was about time for David to be thinking about somebody's
problems besides his own.
Lynnaea: Am I ever gonna meet you ICly? You'd said something 
about coming by David's room so I held off on posting this, but it
didn't happen. We should make contact soon.
Christine: Yeah, yeah, I know about the physicals, but David's got
other things on his mind. You're going to have to drag him, I'm afraid.
Oh, and if you demand Halivni get one, MAKE SURE IT'S A FEMALE 
DOCTOR!! ;-)

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