Ted wasn't surprised.  Years of experience with the Royal Navy’s bureaucracy had left him convinced that the bureaucrats knew absolutely nothing about commanding a starship.  A bureaucrat had determined that Ark Royal needed starfighter pilots and starfighter pilots had been sent, even though there were no starfighters for them to fly.  It probably helped that the starfighter pilots were almost all reservists, who really should have been called up later, once the ship was ready for them.

He waited until the pilots were lined up, then stepped forward.  “Welcome aboard,” he said.  “I will be blunt.  There are no starfighters, so we’re adding you to the personnel pool right now.  You will start by cleaning out your living space, then helping to prepare the launch tubes for the starfighters, once they finally arrive.”

None of the pilots looked very happy at his words.  Ted concealed his amusement with an effort.  Pilots were often prima donnas, demanding everything from the very best of rations to having their starfighters prioritised for repair.  It was a form of compensation, he had been told, for the simple fact that one hit would destroy their starfighters and kill them.  But it was still incredibly annoying.

“As yet, we have no word on when we will actually deploy,” he continued.  “However, I will inform you as soon as we get the word.”

He nodded to Fitzwilliam, who stepped forward and led the starfighter pilots towards their living quarters.  Their quarters had been largely untouched since Ark Royal had gone into the reserves, leaving the pilots with the task of cleaning them up.  It was irritating – Ted would have preferred more time to prepare – but the bureaucrats hadn't given him a choice.  They’d already caused the pilots to waste two days at Cochrane.

Shaking his head, he turned and headed back towards his office.  The paperwork wouldn't do itself, sadly.  And besides, he needed to requisition some other equipment personally.  The bureaucrats hadn't listened to Anderson when he’d made the request.  But they’d listen to him.

Or so he hoped.

***

It had been nearly ten years since Kurt Schneider had set foot on a carrier – and that had been a modern carrier, for its time.  Ark Royal, by contrast, seemed to have come out of a museum, complete with pieces of outdated equipment that should have been discarded years ago.  The air smelled faintly musty as he followed the XO through a series of airlocks and into the quarters set aside for starfighter pilots.  When he saw them, he couldn't help swearing out loud.

“Crap,” one of the younger pilots said.  She wasn't a reservist; Kurt had no idea what she’d done to be assigned to Ark Royal.  “Dust.  Dust everywhere.”

“You’ll have to deal with it,” the XO said.  “I’m afraid we don’t have time to handle everything ourselves.”