Activating the ePersonal, Linda selected the option to have it interact with the center screen on the wall. Now provided a much larger view of her smaller ePersonal display, complete with a colorful icon showing the letters MRB, she studied the symbols.
Linda knew she was finally getting her official response from the Maritime Review Board on the inquiry. Had it really been sixteen days since that hearing? Staring at the icon, she wondered if they had revoked her license. Had they faulted her for Sharon’s death—inflicting a fine that would dig deep into her credits? If so, would she now face civil suits by Sharon’s relatives? So many answers resided behind those three simple letters the icon represented.
“Read the stupid thing and find out, for heaven’s sakes,” Linda said aloud.
Letting out a deep sigh, she positioned a shaky finger over the icon and hesitated. Her mind played over all the various scenarios that the letter could hold. Had UMU gotten their hooks deep enough into the MRB to influence the decision? Had the Shipping Guild used this situation to punish a captain who thumbed her nose at them by commanding a ship outside their control? Perhaps the entire inquiry had been on the up and up, in which case the findings could have gone either way for her.
With a deep sigh, she tapped the screen on the ePersonal. With renewed courage, she stared at the results that now displayed on the wall monitor. An official-looking letter, complete with the Maritime Review Board logo in the upper left corner, stared back at her. Linda always liked their logo. A silver anchor wrapped in a gold-colored chain and sporting the MRB lettering in bold navy-blue seemed classical to her.
In the center of the first page of the report, in bold, capital letters, it read FINDINGS OF THE BOARD OF INQUIRY. Below that in smaller lettering was the date of the inquiry. Skipping down to the second page, where the meat of the report began, Linda started reading.
To: Linda Eccles, Captain, UMU Privateer
Re. Official Findings and Resulting Action
The official members holding the deciding power from the Board of Inquiry did review all facts in the case surrounding the actions of the Privateer and its commanding officer: Captain Linda Eccles (hereby noted as Captain). This included extensive review of ship records, logs and interviews with key personnel aboard the UMU Privateer (see appendix A for a listing of personnel interviewed).
The findings are as follows:
The order to divert the UMU Privateer from its assigned mission, to an uncharted and unknown region of space, did, in fact, violate Maritime Law (reference: Chapter 2, Section 9, Paragraph 6), governing the actions of all non-military vessels; That UMU did require a vessel under their control to travel, in light speed, along an unmapped route was in direct violation of Maritime Law (reference: Chapter 2, Section 14, Paragraph 1);
That the Captain did obey these orders as she saw appropriate to the duties requested of her;
That the Captain did violate the rules of engagement by a non-military vessel; by not rejecting what should have been known as an unlawful redirection of the Privateer’s primary mission; by taking the Privateer and crew into a dangerous situation; by not returning to Rapatine upon learning the fate of the probe she was sent to investigate;
That the Captain did use proper restraint when confronted with a hostile alien vessel;
That the Captain did act within her rights under Maritime Law to protect her ship and crew when fired upon;
That the Captain did act within her rights to return fire, resulting in the assumed massive loss of life, in protection of her ship and crew;
That the Captain did act hastily in relieving Commander Sharon Bresee, her Executive Officer, from the bridge during a hostile situation, but the Board did not find this, in and of itself, resulted in the death of Commander Bresee.
The Maritime Review Board has reviewed the findings of the Board of Inquiry, and through these finding, has determined that Captain Eccles acted in the spirit of the law while commanding the Privateer through a tenuous situation. This Board could find no grievous fault in her decisions and actions to warrant removal of her license to command, nor did it find any reason to suspend her from further command of a ship.
These findings and the decision of the Maritime Review Board are final and closed. No further action is considered warranted in regard to Captain Linda Eccles, or any member of the crew serving aboard the Privateer.
Linda skipped over the last section of the letter that carried who presided over the inquiry, the signatures of those involved, and other official nonsense. Closing the letter and watching the screen on the wall fade from its light-blue background to coal-black, she took a deep breath and slowly released it. While she did not come out of the inquiry unscathed, she did come out on top. There would be no lawsuits, court battles or disciplinary action placed upon her. Linda could not have asked for more. She felt elated and vindicated.
“That really has to be flaming the panties off the board of directors at UMU,” Linda said aloud. A wide smile came across her face.
The vision of an infuriated CEO flashed before her eyes. Linda was sure that he would have wanted to see her crash and burn. With that black mark hanging over her head, she would have been hard-pressed to jump ship to another firm. She would have been a captive slave to the services of UMU, or so they would have thought.
Narrowing her eyes into what she hoped was an evil-looking smirk, Linda figured that the MRB must have blown a hole through UMU’s plans. She pondered over what the MRB would do to UMU? The letter clearly stated that the orders violated Maritime Law. So much so that it was the number one finding. Was there a hidden meaning in that? Did it mean that her complaint lit a fire under the officials at the Maritime Review Board to take action against such blatant disregard for Maritime law? Shrugging, Linda figured that only time would tell.
Leaning forward to turn off the ePersonal sitting on the coffee table in front of her, Linda returned to watching the news. The smile on her face refused to fade away.
◆◆◆
Linda stared at the frozen face of CEO Ernest Leander on the center wall monitor. Only 3AM, she suffered the early-morning hours for this meeting due to the time difference between Earth and Rapatine. As if that was not bad enough, she also had to suffer the time delay it took a message to route between the two planets. The image of the CEO sat frozen, waiting to come alive again once his response came back to her.
Not surprising, the CEO had requested this meeting two days after Linda had received her MRB letter. She figured that the company executives must have received their copy around the same time. They most likely were in damage-control mode, starting with her.
Studying the still face of Ernest, he looked like the years were draining the life out of him. His aging face had deep, permanent wrinkles across his forward, along the outer edges of his eyes and on each side of his mouth. His eyebrows were the same grey-dominated coloring as his smartly cut hair.
Leaning forward to study his image more closely, she could not see any stubble on his cheeks or chin. Smiling to herself, Linda figured he must have hit his face with a razor prior to the meeting. This was, after all, a power play of sorts.
The meeting had been initiated by Ernest, and the conversation had started with his carrying the message from the Board of Directors over their deep disappointment of her criticism of the very people who employed her. Linda had responded that it was their lack of proper judgment that had created the situation, not her. She now awaited his response to that remark.
While she waited, Linda wondered what the old fart thought of the scar on her chin. Even though the stitches were gone, and the wound had healed up nicely, she deliberately delayed her final visit to the clinic until after this meeting. She did not want the doctor performing his magic to hide the scar until after the CEO saw it. There was no way she was going to let him get away without seeing how his order had impacted her personally. If he could not see her mental scars, he would surely see the physical one.
The screen
jumped as the face came to life and repositioned. “Captain, I find your attitude toward the representatives of UMU disheartening. There has been a heavy push by some of the board members to have your contract terminated, effective immediately. Others are willing to consider extending your employment, but only if you agree to act in a manner that places your allegiance to UMU over your own personal feelings. This is a onetime offer to keep your position with the company, and command of the Privateer, if you agree to sign a document to refrain from any further public criticism of UMU and its Executives. Are you willing to do this to keep command of your ship?”
When the image froze again, signaling the end of the transmission, Linda pressed the pause button on the ePersonal. She had to do that because she couldn’t contain her laughter any longer, and she didn’t want the ePersonal recording that in her return response. Letting out a hearty laugh, she allowed the stupidity of Ernest’s request to flow out of her. What arrogance presented itself in an offer that included the carrot of keeping the Privateer, but only if she agreed to wear the company muzzle.
The amusement over, Linda hardened her expression before putting the ePersonal back into action. When the small red light on the camera, located above the multiple wall screens turned bright, she focused on the lens.
“Mr. Leander, while I want to thank both you and the many Directors on the Board of UMU for such a wonderful offer to continue employment and retain command of the Privateer, I cannot agree to be muzzled. I have a counteroffer for you, though. I’ll agree to stay on as Captain of the Privateer under the current arrangement of my contract, but only if UMU agrees to add an addendum granting me the right to refuse orders that I find—how shall I say—questionable? This is the only stipulation to which I can agree. I await your reply. Transmit.”
Linda sat back on the couch and relaxed when the camera light turned off. Noticing the time in the lower-right corner of the screen, she knew that it would take at least twenty minutes to receive a reply. Linda got up to make herself a cup of coffee.
Entering the kitchen, she wondered when someone would get around to the futuristic invention where all she had to do was press a button on the wall and a steaming cup of coffee would present itself to her from an opening cubbyhole. If they could launch her deep into space, surely someone could figure that little wonder out. Hadn’t sci-fi authors been using food synthesizers in their stories for years? She chuckled at the thought.
“Why can’t I have a food synthesizer?” Linda asked aloud, smiling at the idea of someone finally getting around to inventing one.
Selecting a self-contained packet of dark-roast coffee, she dropped it into the receiver on the coffee maker. Pressing the brew button, she let the machine do the rest. Leaning against the small countertop, she glanced over at the frozen image of the CEO. His dark-brown eyes stared back at her as if he was watching her every movement.
Linda had no intention of bending to any rules of the UMU. Frowning, the thought of losing the Privateer created a deep sadness within her. Was losing her ship really worth thumbing her nose at UMU, she wondered. While she could not agree to any gag order, should she accept an offer to continue under the current agreement if they presented it? Having been the Captain of the Privateer ever since its conversion from destroyer to setup ship, it was a part of her now, and its crew was her family. The thought of letting all that go conflicted within her.
The coffee maker beeped. Grabbing a white coffee mug, she studied it in her hand. She had commandeered it from the ship—a simple reminder of the Privateer and all the missions the two had endured together. There were three more just like it in the cupboard, and she had no intention of ever giving them back.
Smiling, she recalled Bill looking the cup over when he was last in the cabin enjoying a too-strong cup of coffee. She suspected he knew where the cup had come from, but he never said a word about it. If fact, Linda wouldn’t have been surprised if he had a few in his cabin, too. Attachment to one’s ship ran deep.
Looking back over her left shoulder, she observed the picture hanging on the wall in the living room—another memorabilia absconded from the captain’s cabin just before she handed the ship over to the shipyard workers. The picture was her favorite view of the Privateer. It had been taken many years in the past when the ship was bright and new and ready to take the fight to the enemy—which in those days were pirates causing havoc to merchant ships like they did so many years ago upon the seas. If the company wanted to come and reclaim it someday, let them. Until then, it was hers to keep.
Slipping the cup into the machine, she let it fill with the steaming liquid. If Linda had a vice, coffee was it. Removing the cup, she braved a sip of the hot brew, knowing it would probably burn her lips and tongue. Drawing in a small amount, she enjoyed the bitterness of the strong taste that always reminded her of home. It was exactly how her father drank his coffee. Returning to the couch, she sat holding the hot cup between her hands until she finally had to set it on the table.
Looking down at herself, Linda could not help but smile at her appearance. Here she was discussing her continued employment with her boss, and she sat on the couch in her pink pajamas with blue and purple flowers. Over that, she wore a baby-blue bathrobe. What must he think of her? He was sporting a bright white shirt under his buttoned black suit jacket and wearing a power tie of burgundy with thin silver and grey stripes. She returned the image of a housewife having just gotten the kids off to school.
Of course, Linda had done it deliberately, and she suspected Ernest knew that. She wanted to portray herself as being relaxed and homey, rather than uptight and desperate. This lack of respect was so transparent that she might as well have just flipped him off and ended all this nonsense.
As she enjoyed her coffee, she noticed the twenty minutes had come and gone without a reply. Linda suspected that Ernest was conferring with the rest of the Board on how to respond. She could envision the stuffed shirts arguing over risks and profits. Was she an asset or liability to the company? Linda suspected she was both. Her name was famous now, as was the ship, but her open rebellion of the company gave them a black eye. Smiling, Linda wished she had the ability to sneak in on that conversation.
The screen flashed to bring Ernest’s image back to life. The moment of truth had arrived.
◆◆◆
The Screaming Meteor started to get crowded, and Bill realized his decision to arrive at the bar early to get a table proved sound. Looking out at the younger crowd that began to filter into the place, he became curious as to why Linda had invited him here.
“Hi! I’m Melinda. What can I get you?”
Bill looked at the young, perky waitress who came up to his table. Her hair was such a bright-red color that it had to have been dyed. She sported piercings on the outside of one eyebrow, along the edges of both ears, and a tiny diamond stud sat on one side of her nose. If ever there was someone out to be noticed, he thought, this was it.
“I’m actually waiting for another person to arrive. I’ll hold off until then,” Bill responded.
“Nope, you gotta order something, or I have to ask you to leave.”
“Why is that?”
“The owner got tired of people coming in to order one drink and then spending hours sitting around chatting or playing on their ePersonal,” Melinda answered. She stooped forward and said in a low voice, “The owner is a real jerk.”
“It sounds like it. Since I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble for letting me freeload on this table, give me whatever you have on tap that’s dark.”
“We have Bull’s Warp. I heard it’s supposed to be good,” Melinda said, coming up on her toes as she spoke, and then dropping flatfooted again, as if releasing some nervous energy.
“You haven’t tried it, though?”
“No way, I hate beer.”
The way Melinda scrunched up her face and shook her head a few times made Bill smile. He responded, “I guess I’ll just have to trust you then.”
With a smile and a quick spin, the young lady turned away. Bill couldn’t help himself from watching the youthful bounce of her step, along with the enticing swing of her hips. It didn’t help that she was wearing red shorts that barely made it past her butt cheeks. Her braided hair running down her back swayed back and forth like the pendulum of a grandfather clock. He was trying to decide if she was bucking trend on having short hair, or if she considered herself the upcoming trend setter when Linda arrived.
“You should be ashamed of yourself, Bill. She could be your daughter, for heaven’s sake.”
Bill gave Linda a sheepish smile. She had a smirk that would have rivaled any mother catching her child doing something naughty. Feeling his cheeks flush, Bill pointed to the stool opposite him.
“I was just admiring the red shorts,” Bill said, knowing full well she wouldn’t buy it.
“Yes, they would look lovely on you,” Linda responded, with a chuckle included. Sitting down, she said, “I see you had the same idea I did of getting here early enough to get a table.”
“I had come by here a couple of times before, but I could never get in. I’m not much on standing outside for hours waiting for a seat to open up; especially for an overpriced beer.”
“I take it you ordered already?”
“Yes. Apparently, the owner of this place is a credit hog. The waitress informed me that I had to order to occupy the table.”
“I see.”
“So, what are we celebrating?” Bill asked, looking over to see if he could catch the waitress’ attention.
“My freedom.”
The words caught Bill’s attention, and he swung his head to look into Linda’s eyes. Frowning slightly, he asked, “Freedom from UMU?”
“Exactly. I was informed this morning that my services will no longer be needed, and that the company has gracefully released me from my contractual obligation to pursue other interests.”
The Chance Encounter: The Linda Eccles Series - Book One Page 27