Ian: The Captain

From a young age, Ian wanted to be on ships. Back then it was spaceships: he wanted to fly X-Wings or the Millennium Falcon, but more than anything he wanted to be the captain of the space battleship in Star Blazers, as it was known in the US (Space Battleship Yamato in its native Japan). He thought it would be so cool to be a part of a crew that went off into the unknown to save everything he loved. 

He spent elementary school dreaming about being an astronaut, but by high school he realized he wasn't quite strong enough, athletic enough, or smart enough in math and science to do that. Or he was just a little too lazy. Or, when it came down to it, he just wasn't that interested in the work.

In college, he joined the Navy out of necessity, not having enough money to finish school. The NROTC scholarship allowed him to finish college with a degree in political science and, with “good enough” calculus and physics grades, a selection for the Navy’s nuclear power program. He was certain he would fulfill his five-year obligation, get out of the Navy, and move on with life. 

But it turns out he did well at his job, and he loved being on ships. Well, he wasn't that good at doing the work of being in the Navy – managing programs, studying military tactics, understanding administration, writing awards and evaluations – in fact, he despised that part of the job. But he had a knack for understanding complexity, seeing how different systems work together, and, because of that, he made good decisions and took decisive action. 

And he led his people well, with kindness, fair-mindedness, personal investment in their mentorship. He could easily lead and inspire others. As he moved up in the organization, those skills earned him a good reputation in the fleet and his intuitive, decisive leadership earned him command of a destroyer.

And my God, he loved that ship and that crew. Both were in terrible shape when he arrived, but with steady leadership they turned it around. He put everything he had into it because, at an unconscious level, he knew this was his Space Battleship Yamato. The crew needed great captain. He gave his all to be the captain they needed.

With his success there, The Navy sent him to another turnaround ship – an aircraft carrier reactor department – to lead them from the depths of a decade of sub-par performance. Again, he gave them everything. Again, they succeeded. 

But this all cost him.

When he left the carrier, his marriage was practically over. She left and took his daughter, Artemis, with her. He broke inside and spent some time in a hospital under suicide watch. Later, back to work at a desk job as a Coast Guard liaison, the Navy virtually forgot about him and, when they remembered at all, treated him like a failure. He lost his credibility. He lost his capacity to lead. 

But he never lost his skills. He could still see how complex systems interact. He could see the big picture. And these days the big picture scares the shit out of him.

He understands the Navy and the US government and doesn't trust either of them. He still loves ships and sailors and, now retired, he misses them. But he does not miss the bullshit. These days he lives on a boat he bought with the money he had left over after the divorce, and he survives on a little income (when he feels like working) and whatever is left over from his pension after paying his ex.

He knows the relationship with his ex-wife is broken beyond repair, but they stay civil. He hopes one day he will have a good relationship with Artemis. He tries not to drink when he thinks about it.