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It's been a strange few months for Jack West. Indeed, he hasn't seen the bar for nearly four months and Christmas 1989 has been and gone in a heartbeat of Australian summer, and the Australian Open is around the corner.

Jack sighs as he walks to the bar, where he gets an ice cold Australian lager, as is only appropriate for the heat of the summer.

He'll be around, although those who recognise him, may note the change in the bars on his shoulder, and the change of regimental patch.

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And an Australian dog, too, or at least a dog of an Australian breed. Dogmeat's taken an interest in the uniform in the hopes that it conceals treats somewhere. Sometimes they do that. Right?

Sometimes they do.

Unfortunately, this one doesn't.

"Sorry boy, got nothing for you." Jack says to the dog.

"Don't mind him, he does that to everyone," says Ellen resignedly. "He's a Wasteland dog and they're never not looking for food... hi, Jack. Dogmeat, leave the man alone."

Jack chuckles slightly.

"Well, if he's grown up having to look for food everywhere, that's a hard habit to break, even somewhere like this. Hi, Ellen."

Dogmeat whufs and pads off to look for a table to sit under. Ellen just shakes her head. "He'll get over it," she says. "How have you been? You look like you've been awfully busy."

Jack sighs and thinks over the past few months... How to phrase this best?

"Not seen this place in four or five months." He, kind of lost track of time in the desert survival exercises, then it was Christmas and new year.

He taps the beret, has Ellen seen him in uniform before? if she has, then the beret's new, otherwise, well.

"In that time, I've been selected as a member of the SAS." which, would explain everything to anyone who knows about the SAS. Ellen may require further explanation.

"I think the longest I've been away from this place was two and a half months or so," Ellen says. "After the bit where everything got weird... I'm going to guess that's a good thing? I'm sorry, I've never heard the word before."

"It's not really a word. Stands for Special Air Service. The elite of the Army. Well, the Australian and British armies, at any rate." Jack says, giving a small grin. He's really one to boast, that's just stating facts.

"Oh!" says Ellen. "Like the Lyons' Pride unit back home. Only bigger, obviously, you've got more soldiers to choose from and all... Congratulations, then! That's great for you."

"Bigger? Probably, but we do only have one regiment. When the army have a really hard mission? It's the SAS they turn to, to get it done."

"Cheers. It was hard work, the selection course, but I passed it."

"That's still more than the Pride," Ellen says. "The Capital Wasteland Brotherhood hasn't had support from the High Elders in California in years- we haven't even heard from California in years. So it's basically the soldiers Elder Lyons came east with, plus their children and the children they took from the Pitt before they scourged it, plus local recruits, minus everyone who's fallen in battle since then, minus the Outcasts. The special forces unit has less than fifteen people in it."

"What's involved in the course, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Shooting straight. Shooting straight under all sorts of different pressures and situations designed to put your aim off. Learning to jump out of planes. Endurance tests."

"That covers most of what they explicitly tested, anyway."

"There was probably a lot of watching and character assessment, wasn't there," says Ellen. "It seems like the kind of thing they'd do."

"Oh, I don't doubt it. But equally, I'm practically certain they had their eyes on me as a candidate from the moment I signed up."

They certainly gave him enough hints about it. See also: enlisted man becomes commissioned officer, via Trinity College.

Ellen nods. "I guess that makes sense," she says. "Do they do that kind of thing often, in your world's military?"

"Well, I was speaking with one of the officers in charge of selection a few days ago, and he said they generally knew which guys were going to make the grade within a few days of the course starting."

But that's not the same as watching someone from when they sign up.

"Sounds like Paladin Gunny, back home," Ellen says. "Or Tristan. Sorry- Gunny's in charge of training the Initiates on their way to becoming Knights or Paladins. He's been doing it for probably longer than I've been alive."

Jack nods respectfully. That kind of service is impressive.

Especially since it requires a lifetime of living the training you're giving, before you can impart it to others.

"How are things going, back home?"

"Fairly well, actually," Ellen says. "We've established a good number of treaties with local communities, getting them water in exchange for some of the extra food and supplies they grow and produce with it. We've got a lot of things growing in the wasteland now, too, some from Oasis seeds, some from a god I met here. And I've finished my training with Knight-Captain Colvin- I don't know if I told you about him, he's the closest thing the Capital Brotherhood has to a chaplain ever since the one who was sent east with Elder Lyons died years ago. They're going to make that my official job in a few days."

"Well, congratulations to you too. That's a weighty position."

Jack's not one for religion, but he recognises the use a chaplain can have for some members of the force, even if it's just as a listening ear.

"No kidding," Ellen says. "Normally it'd take longer, especially since I wasn't born into the Brotherhood, but I'd spent three years training to take up Reverend Avellone's position in Vault 101 before I got run out of there. Knight-Captain Colvin says I learned enough about dealing with people under bad conditions and what they needed to skip a lot of his training and concentrate on the Brotherhood specifics instead."

"I can see that. Sort of like how they didn't need to teach me how to strip a gun down, because I'd learnt it from watching soldiers on the bases where I grew up, but did need to teach me specifics of how the Aussie Army operates, compared to the US one?

Ellen nods. "Something like that," she says. "And like Paladin Gunny having to show me how the Brotherhood handles energy weapon and armor maintenance and care instead of the way I'd been doing it myself, back when I was first admitted, but didn't have to put me through all the basics they train Initiates in. It saves time."

"Playing to personal strengths is usually a sound plan," Jack agrees.

[ooc: sorry I flaked on this thread over the weekend, I lost track of it in my inbox :( found it now :) ]

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