by Chris Hechtl
“Sorry, ma'am,” Oz said in just the right tone of voice, eyes down.
“Yeah, sorry,” Cynthia said meekly, but she kept shooting a look at Shelby to see if she was buying it.
“No, you aren't,” Shelby said with a snort. That earned more smiles and chuckles from the room at large. When the room settled down, she sat back and continued the discussion. “Now we're not taking on the people to terraform planets. But we've got a few people going to school for that sort of thing here. I understand they've started to work on recreating Eden here,” she said, bringing up an image on the main holographic projector. The 2D image expanded into a 3D representation of the star system.
“They are going to take a moon and some of the Eden belt and mash it together with some ice balls and form a new dwarf planet. Something closer to what Eden was. And they've asked the navy to help them play space billiards.”
“That'll be fun.”
“Right. We've done it before, just not on that scale. But it's not something we'll be around to see,” Shelby said. “I understand Admiral Irons got them on this and has been giving them some minor pointers. I'm curious to see how it turns out.”
Cynthia nodded. “Me too, ma'am. What about Kathy's World?”
Shelby frowned thoughtfully, then shrugged. “I don't know. That's an honest answer; terraforming isn't my thing. If you get a chance, email the doctor in charge of terraforming. See if you get a response. If you do, let me know.”
Cynthia nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“All this time and I didn't know you were into planetary engineering too,” Oz said, propping his massive head up to look at the blond.
“Shows what you know,” Cynthia preened. “I like all sorts of engineering projects. Terraforming … I mean, there is so much involved in it! Like the Eden project I was reading up on it. They are going to start with a core, the right core, most likely a dwarf planet. But they've got to find something with the right sort of heavy core, then add rock. It's not just throwing rocks at it and trying to make it stick. It's not even bringing them close and then trying to marry them. The entire process …,” she shook her head in wonder. “And the machinery involved in each step …”
“Admit it. As much as you like the idea, actually being involved wouldn't be as much fun as being on a ship,” Oz said. “I seem to remember you being horrified at being stuck on a station.”
“You would bring that up,” Cynthia grumbled darkly, glowering at him. “You are right though,” she admitted. “I just like to watch the process.”
“Agreed. Make sure we get recordings of it. I think showing it to others might pique some interest,” Shelby stated. Cynthia nodded.
“Now, the next thing, the patrols …”
“Which we can't really plan until we know who we've got and what the astrography is, ma'am,” Lieutenant L'n'v'll interrupted.
Shelby paused and looked at the Veraxin lieutenant and then nodded slowly. “Point. We also don't know what the opposition is, where our base is … okay, I admit, let's table that discussion point for the moment. Moving on …”
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Shelby smiled politely and even bowed on occasion when she deemed the person important enough to kowtow to a little bit. She had taken courses on diplomacy and deportment while she'd been on Firefly, but her father hadn't been a big fan of shindigs like this, she thought.
“I wish they'd let us come in civilian attire. I had my eyes on a gown that was to die for,” Cynthia grumbled. Shelby turned slightly to look at her XO. Cynthia had her curls done up in a bun in the back. She was also wearing a non-regulation necklace, but you could only see peeks of it from time to time, and only if you were close.
“I would have liked to not have to have come at all,” Shelby said.
“Oh come on, Skipper, you need to get out. Live a little. Rubbing elbows with people here helps the mission. Besides, we can get to know some of the players involved,” Cynthia scolded gently.
“Maybe,” Shelby replied in a tone that made it clear that she was not at all convinced. Which she wasn't she thought as she toyed with her wine glass. A waiter robot came up and offered to refill it, but she waved him off with a polite shake of her head. The black and white android nodded and looked at Cynthia. The XO held her glass out. The waiter swapped her glass for one from his tray, then moved on.
“You've got to admit, it's nice,” Cynthia said as she took a sip and then looked around the room. It was vast; a dome over 200 meters in diameter. The sky above could be seen clearly through what seemed like glass but was anything but. They were actually inside San Diego, and the officers knew that the vision of starry night was completely simulated.
“Did you notice that there aren't any noncoms here? Civilians and officers, noncoms need not apply,” Cynthia said quietly as she leaned over to her boss.
Shelby scanned the room again and then nodded slowly. “You are right,” she murmured back. She'd also noted that there weren't many junior officers either. The most junior of them was a first lieutenant. She was fairly certain he might be on the senior staff, though she wasn't certain.
“How'd Captain Teague get out of this? This group is a deadly bore. Not even dancing,” Cynthia grumbled.
“It's a social. Meet and greet. Get to know, stuff like that. A political function,” Shelby murmured. “Something we're going to have to get used to if we want to move the mission forward. And definitely we're going to have to put up with in Tau.”
“Lovely,” Cynthia sighed. She took another sip of her drink. “Are you still on to go to the academy next week?” Cynthia finally asked as the soft classical music picked up subtly.
“Yes, that's the plan,” Shelby replied. “I can't get out of that,” she warned.
“Great. So, I get to play XO of both the ship and the mission while you are gone. Lucky me,” Cynthia grumbled.
“Nothing you aren't used to now,” Shelby teased.
“True,” Cynthia replied with a soft snort.
The current plan was for Shelby to train at the academy in the Advanced Tactical Course more commonly known as the Crusher starting on Monday. They'd joked about it for a while as she'd worked through the online courses in-between all her other duties. Joking about it helped to diffuse some of her nervousness about it. She was an engineer at heart. She'd taken some of the courses before, but apparently, everything had been overhauled. According to the write-up, it was pass or fail. If she somehow failed, she'd lose her command.
Not good.
Cynthia leaned over to her with a smile and nod of her chin to Admiral Subert and the holographic projection of Lieutenants Kalmia and Barry. “Wanna bet they are talking about Caroline? Or more importantly her passengers? I wonder what they'll say about all this?” she asked, motioning with her wine glass to indicate the gathering.
“Possible,” Shelby said as Lieutenant Kalmia's avatar turned to them, winked, and then went back to listening attentively to the conversation with the admiral. They had gotten news through the ansible that the light cruiser Caroline had gotten to B101a1 with more personnel from Bek and Nuevo on board, but the ship had returned through the rapids a bit worse for the wear. Apparently, she'd sustained some damage in each of the transits and would therefore take her time returning to Pyrax.
“Don't look now, but we've got incoming at your three o'clock,” Cynthia murmured, breaking Shelby out of her reverie.
Shelby couldn't help herself; she turned to the looming officer and nodded respectfully. “Captain Chavez? I don't believe we've met,” she said with a smile and extended hand. The other woman returned the smile slightly stiffly but took the hand and shook it once. Shelby felt Cynthia take a slight step back to give them a bit of room.
“Captain Logan. I met your father and was curious to see if you were anything like him,” the other woman said, cocking her head and obviously sizing Shelby up.
Shelby's shoulders instinctively squared. “We share a bit in common, ma'am, Dad raised me as a
n engineer and to love the navy,” she said with a slight smile. “Did you get to pick his brain before you left for here?” she asked.
“Alas, no, we only met a brief time,” the captain replied with a shake of her head.
“How is Peru shaping up? Have you gotten past the usual teething fun?” Shelby asked politely.
Something in the other woman's gray eyes flickered briefly. “Why? Have you heard anything?” She asked in a slightly stiff and seemingly defensive tone of voice.
“No, I was making conversation,” Shelby said, spreading her hands apart slightly. “That's right; you took over from Commodore X'll'rr,” she murmured as she read the bio on her implants. “Sorry, I forgot you didn't get her fresh out of the yard. We had all sorts of headaches with Prometheus,” she said with a shake of her head. She hoped she'd diffused the problem.
“True, I'm not a plank owner. That's fine, she's broken in. Not quite to my tastes but she's getting there.”
“Good to hear,” Shelby said with a slight bow. “Any ideas on this new crop of arrivals that are coming in from your home star system?” she asked.
Captain Chavez shrugged. “It is a big navy. I may have served with a few of them,” she said with a sniff as she took a sip from her own glass, then lowered it. “I know there are a lot of flag officers in the group, plus their staff. I don't understand why they brought flag officers and middies and why Marine middies?” the red-haired woman asked rhetorically, shaking her head.
“I don't know either. The mix does seem odd,” Shelby echoed politely. “We do need more flag officers,” she admitted.
“Well, that is certainly true,” Captain Chavez said with a curt nod as she looked around the room.
“I wonder how long they'll let you keep Peru before the brass moves you up into its rarified heights?” Shelby asked with a slight twist of her lips.
That got the other woman's attention again. She turned to Shelby. “I'm not certain what you mean.”
“Do you think they'll bump you soon? Or move you on to a larger capital ship?” Shelby asked. “A fleet carrier …”
“I'm a line officer through and through,” Captain Chavez said a bit stiffly.
“Ah, sorry, I didn't know, ma'am,” Shelby said as there was a lull in the conversations around her. Eyes turned to them.
“Well, you didn't know. Now you do,” the other woman said. She knocked back her wine and then walked off to another group.
“Well! That was an interesting diversion,” Cynthia murmured behind her as she came up to her side once more.
“Don't start,” Shelby sighed.
“I hope she's an exception to the rule. If the other Bekians are anything like her …”
“What? She's a professional,” Shelby said with a slight envious tone in her voice over the other woman's confidence and poise.
“Well, she's something at any rate,” Cynthia said quietly. “Are you worried one of the incoming officers will supersede you? Take the mission?”
“I … you know, I don't know. Honestly, I should want it. This mission is growing and expanding to the point that we honestly need a flag officer in command,” Shelby said, wrestling with herself internally.
“I hear a but coming. I know you wouldn't want to lose command,” Cynthia accused.
“Yeah, I'm starting to realize that myself,” Shelby admitted. “I don't think we have much to worry about though,” she said thoughtfully as her eyes strayed back to the red-haired captain's backside.
“Oh? Do tell?”
“I think if they are anything like her, they'll indeed complicate things, but they'll add a bit of polish to what we have here. Knock off some of the rough edges. But they have rough edges of their own, and none have seen combat. And I think they want it. They want their tickets punched, so I'm betting they'll all be after combat command slots.”
“Commodore X'll'rr should watch out,” Cynthia murmured, nodding to the Veraxin. The female was in a discussion with a civilian group.
“I'd tell her, but she's given me so much grief so far I'm not going to. I'm just going to sit back and watch,” Shelby murmured.
“Now you're talking, Skipper,” Cynthia echoed with a mischievous chuckle.
Chapter 7
On top of everything else, Shelby was tapped to take the feared Crusher class. The Crusher was a series of advanced tactical classes at the academy for established officers. For some, it was a refresher course. For others, it was a chance to show their strategic and tactical skills. It was all about pressure, designed to put the students under constant pressure while being under a microscope.
The current class was in full swing, in-between her other duties over the past several weeks she had managed to pass the theory part. That had been easily enough done; she'd helped write some of it after all. She'd enjoyed some of the lessons, they'd been like refreshers and had been a mild distraction from the planning of the expedition.
But once she'd gotten through the initial paper studies she'd moved into the lab sections. Prometheus's tactical computers had allowed her to run some of the simulator homework, but eventually, she had to put the face time in for the latter half of the Crusher. That meant traveling to San Diego and spending several weeks interacting with the personnel there while trying to juggle her other balls remotely. It wasn't easy for her to just set aside those other things and trust Cynthia with the job. Fortunately, there was a lull in things, so hopefully, it wouldn't be too much of a burden on the XO.
There were twelve officers in her class. A few were like her; they had been handling ship or other assignments during the first phase of the course. She was the highest-ranking officer in the class, something she'd expected since there were still so few captains in the fleet. The rest of the class was made up of a mix of commanders and lieutenant commanders. All of them had been an executive officer or had skippered a ship or fortress in their careers, but to command anything larger than a frigate, you had to pass the Crusher course. There was one familiar face, Commander Vlad Contenov she noted. Not that she thought she'd have time to rub elbows with her XO's on-again-off-again boyfriend.
She did her initial interview with Commander Clint Bronson, the Neochimp Crusher commandant, when she arrived. She knew she was going to be thrown in the deep end; she'd seen the syllabus. She was pretty sure they'd throw some sims at her during her sleep cycle. She was glad she had implants to keep her on her feet and functional; something in the commandant's mischievous expression told her she'd need them.
“It's not often that we get a captain JG here,” the commandant said with a shake of his head. “Usually you have to pass the course before you are considered for captain's rank. Definitely pass it if you are going to take on stars,” he said with a grimace.
“That is why I'm here. Better late than never I suppose,” Shelby said with a shrug and small smile.
“I know. I'll brush past some of the initial welcome speech. I will point out that courage under fire in a simulator is one thing,” the commandant said then paused meaningfully. “Actually, facing it is something else,” he said. “We can only get you so far. Everyone has their breaking point.”
Shelby nodded. “I know.”
He smiled slightly. “And I know you know. As I also know you've seen plenty of shots in anger,” he said with a nod. “I think we don't need to worry about that. I don't think we'll focus on individual ship combat for you as much as fleet command and control.”
“If you say so commandant,” Shelby said cautiously. She wasn't exactly certain of the protocol. As commandant and professor, he outranked her. But she was a captain JG, he was a commander, so the reverse was also true. But he was the commander of the facility; she was a student.
“And I do. I am aware you've taught here a few times. I'm also aware you are something of an expert in tactical exercises before you joined the military,” he said, turning his desk top LCD so she could see that he was looking at her record.
“It was something of a …,” S
helby grimaced. “Well, I was going to say hobby, but for me it was more of a pass time, a fun distraction.”
“You didn't take it seriously?” the Neochimp asked, eyes narrowed.
“The competitive aspects of course. I wanted to win. But as you just mentioned, courage in a simulator …,” she shrugged. “And we didn't have that Harris had set up a couple of computers and some tablets in a poor man's cluster computer network.”
The Neochimp nodded. “Gaming in other words. I see. Well, I think we can do better than that,” he drawled. “You've got about ten minutes to get your gear stowed in your quarters before the first sim begins,” he said.
She blinked and then rose from her chair fast. “I knew you were going to throw me in the deep end …”
“Nine minutes thirty seconds, Captain. Best hustle,” he warned. She grabbed her bag and took off at a run as he smirked behind her.
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“While the cat is away, the mice will play … yeah, right,” Cynthia said under her breath as she shook her head and walked through the corridors of the ship. She'd gotten some downtime, and with the ship in dock, she had her weekends more or less to herself though she couldn't spend them with Vlad since his ship was off on picket duty. It usually meant her feeling sorry for herself and being bored all weekend. That still didn't mean she could slack off however. She still had to deal with paperwork as well as overseeing the upgrades to the ship while also meeting new incoming personnel or saying goodbye to outgoing personnel.
Fortunately, there were very few outgoing personnel. Only three while the skipper was away. Two of them were sailors who had finally received their promotions, and she congratulated them on them. The third was a quiet sailor who'd been taking online classes and had been tapped to complete his degree and take a commission.
“It ever feel like to you that we underutilized people like Rio?” she asked the A.I.