Allison; Taking Control

Chapter 1

Leaning against the thick, oaken bulkhead, the naval officer in blue uniform crossed his arms in a quiet manner. His mind stubbornly refused to stop thinking about the singular circumstance in which he found himself, despite every effort to the contrary.

Despite the fact that one of my greatest goals in life has been accomplished, all I can do is remain here in fear. I swear before Almighty God that I feel as though I know even less right now than I did before this all started, despite everything I've been given—attention, praise, trust, and responsibility—as well as the miles I've traveled and every letter bearing my name.Why me? And why does it appear that I will always be puzzled?

Despite everything he had learned or predicted up until that point, Lieutenant Rane Allison still couldn't believe he had been chosen for this position despite the Royal Navy's abundance of skilled, experienced, and senior officers. Even though he didn't know exactly what his primary mission was, the strange circumstances surrounding it and the strange aspects of his command were enough to make him more than just curious. He had to admit that there were also doubts. There appeared to be two more questions raised by previous responses.

The two wax-sealed packages containing his orders were kept in the locked drawer of his small desk, which he stared at almost suspiciously. He was so eagerly anticipating the day he finally opened them that he thought the anticipation would sometimes literally shake him to pieces. Creating some distance from where he had been resting up against the back bulkhead, he siphoned his right clench hand into his left palm two or multiple times and paced the floor boards for a few minutes, not even once taking his eyes off that cabinet. He was aware that the contents of those packets represented a pivotal turning point in his life.

He paused to rhythmically tap his fingertips on the corner of the desk's worn, unpolished surface before allowing his imagination to temporarily take over. Would this journey result in an ignominious setback or a glorious advance? Would there be a lot of natural and man-made dangers, or would the boredom become so bad that you could cut it with a sword? How long would it take for him to report that everything had been completed in front of his superiors? But most importantly, would he be able to achieve the objectives outlined for him? Was he capable of carrying out the duties that had been assigned to him? Would he and his subordinates survive to return? Most importantly, what was in store for a man who worked his way up to a commissioned officer without relying on wealth, noble status, or high-ranking, influential connections? What could a man who was born into a family of means in the mother country rather than commoners in the colonies expect from something like this?

When the small bell of the HMS Philadelphia rang eight times, he was just beginning to let go of these unsettling thoughts and was able to fully concentrate on the present. He was free of all thoughts of his unknowable future. After all, he couldn't help but feel that these were thoughts that no officer in His Majesty's Navy should have.It was his sworn oath to carry out his duty with a resounding "aye aye" regardless of the circumstances.

Allison couldn't help but think that despite its small size, that bell's sound travels quite a distance. He could only hope that Philadelphia, despite its small size, would also demonstrate this.

He moved to the chair in front of his desk and sat down, feeling the ship's gentle roll as she moved south-west. He listened to the occasional groaning and creaking of the oaken hull, decks, and bulkheads from his small cabin in the stern. Every now and then, the officers and sailors on watch topside shouted orders and responded with compliance. The only windows in the compartment were a row of small, narrow glass panes high on the rear bulkhead. The sun shone through them. They were probably positioned in such a way to accommodate the significant pitching and rolling that the small ship would experience in rough seas. Even a storm of average strength would undoubtedly raise the wave height to the point where freeboard would be significantly reduced.It was yet another issue that would undoubtedly surface in due course—not if, but when.

Still, he was grateful for the pleasant weather that made the first two days of the journey so enjoyable when he saw that sunlight. He reminded himself that few days will likely be as tranquil, regardless of the weather, no matter what is to be done. And the days that he anticipated would undoubtedly arrive soon. He became even more curious about the recent events after coming to this realization.

At least that was how he perceived it. Everything had happened so quickly. He was a relatively inexperienced lieutenant on a third-rate line ship for a while; Despite his status as an officer, he is just another face in the crowd. The following day, while at the New York docks, he was summoned in front of his captain and informed that he would be traveling to Philadelphia to take new orders. The captain didn't even say goodbye, and he barely had time to wish his fellow officers well before getting off the ship. He also had no idea why another appointment had been scheduled ahead of time, let alone why the assignment had been changed so abruptly and so irregularly! His sea chest was on the pier within an hour of receiving this information, and a coach arrived to transport him. To say that everything had left him perplexed was not even close to adequately describing the feeling. He thought back to the rather sluggish conversation he had with the captain on that gray, uninteresting morning. He had heard that Allison was going to show up right away in the captain's cabin. He went straight from the wardroom where he had been reading to the cabin entrance and presented himself there obediently. The marine sentries then stepped aside and opened the big door for him to enter. Behind the massive polished wooden table, Captain Wilson sat rigidly, his pince-nez fixed on what appeared to be official correspondence in his sandpaper-covered hands. His elbow held two opened envelopes with intact wax seals from before. Wilson gave the sentries a quick glance and nod, and then the door was quickly shut behind Allison, who noticed, his hat tucked under his left arm.

"Lieutenant Allison reporting in accordance with orders, sir."

Wilson appeared to not even acknowledge Allison's presence as he resumed his thorough examination of the documents he was holding. For what seemed like a very long time, he sat there silent. Allison felt frightened by the uncomfortable silence because he remembered similar situations that made him feel uneasy when he was a young midshipman. In those instances, there was always a severe beating to the brow, but thankfully, there was nothing more.Allison thought back to a few other less fortunate young men who ended up on the gun decks, hunched over an eighteen-pounder at the bosun's mercy.

Allison coughed lightly and casually.

Captain Wilson fixed him with that all-too-common steely gaze as soon as he took off his pince-nez and threw it on the table out of annoyance. Wilson's sudden shifts in demeanor were frequently unpleasant to behold, despite the stone-faced demeanor that he frequently wore, which hardly ever displayed any emotion.When things weren't going his way, he could easily have the look of a mad, brine-soaked buccaneer with those sea blue eyes set in a weathered face bordered by long steel gray hair that he often left untied. But this time, his expression quickly changed to one of evaluation and cold calculation, much less intense. Because he was still standing and paying attention, Allison had to keep looking out through the cabin's stern windows at nothing. Despite this, he could see that Wilson's rigid mouth had shifted to one side, giving the impression of a man in deep thought.

The captain finally spoke after giving the enigmatic documents in his left hand one final glance, never allowing Allison to feel at ease.

"Mr. Allison, you are no longer assigned to His Majesty's Ship Praetorian as of this moment."I have been instructed to prepare you as soon as possible for transportation to Philadelphia, where you will await further appointment at the Admiralty's discretion. I have been informed that transportation has been arranged and will arrive at the pier within an hour. Now is the time to go and get ready.

Allison actually couldn't order the sentiments that had gushed wildly inside him in the wake of hearing those words expressed so straight and without clarification. Even the years of harsh discipline to which he had been subjected during his time in the naval service could not prevent his memory of standing there dumb and with a look of shock on his face from standing there. The sentry opened the cabin door with Wilson's insistent "That is all," and Allison could only leave with a somewhat meager "Aye aye, sir." Before he left, that was the last time he saw his former commanding officer.