by John Ringo
“Why?” the fabber replied. “You and the chief are here. Don’t worry, kiddo, I’m being on my very best behavior. Whoops. Gotta go.”
“Is that really her best behavior?” Palencia asked.
“How should I know?” Dana replied. “This is the first time I’ve dealt with her except for a short conversation when we were in the docking bay.”
“I keep having a hard time remembering that she is older than my nation,” Palencia said.
“It is a bit tough, isn’t it?” Dana said, handing her barely touched champagne glass to a waiter and accepting the proffered fruit juice. She wasn’t sure what kind of fruit but it was tasty.
“I’m being signaled by General Benito,” Palencia said.
“And I think people are spread out enough,” Dana said. “I’m going to go gang up with the chief. Do not get me in trouble.”
“Won’t,” Palencia said.
“Why don’t I believe that?” Dana said, making her way through the crowd to the bar. “Oh, because it’s never been true before!”
* * * *
“What were you discussing with the AI?” General Benito asked.
“Several items, sir,” Palencia said. “The most important of which was that the AI is using a preprogrammed rote response for its various conversations at this reception.”
“That is...” the general said, frowning.
“The AI pointed out that most such conversations are rote response, sir,” Palencia added. “Such as this one. I anticipated that would be your first question and had the response prepared. Extrapolate that for an AI and it’s obvious, sir. She also had a list of all the conversations and actions she was engaged in at the same time. The fabber...” He stamped his foot slightly. “You can feel it is still running. The AI talking to...” He looked around, “... seven different groups is also running the fabber. Rote response makes sense.”
“I suppose these things are pretty much rote response, aren’t they?” the general said, chuckling. “Very well, go get my son and Velasquez. We have some things to discuss that are not rote response.”
“Yes, sir,” Palencia said.
* * * *
“You should probably stay with your people, EM,” Captain DiNote said as she approached the group from the 142nd.
“They’re not my people tonight, sir,” Dana said. “It’s Sud versus Norté tonight. And, with all due respect, sir, they’re not ‘my’ people even when we’re on the Therm. I’m responsible for them. That’s not the same as being a team.”
“Understood,” DiNote said. “Any idea what they’re talking about?”
“From experience, how they’re going to hang my ass, sir,” Dana said.
“Bitter much?” Barnett asked.
“Excuse me, Chief,” Dana said, slapping herself slightly. “Attitude adjusted.”
“The following was not said,” Captain DiNote said. “Because I became aware of some of the issues with a former subordinate whom I hold in high regard, I had a quiet chat with a friend in NavSpacPers. We were at the Academy together and we both worked NavSpac. Different offices. He’s in a position to have had... ‘too much,’ as he put it, to do with the issues with the 143 and to know the inside scuttlebutt having to do with the... issues with assigned American personnel.”
“You mean that a lowly EM has a string of ‘reply by endorsements’ that go across the secretary of the Navy’s desk, sir?” Dana asked.
“Don’t be bitter,” DiNote said. “Seriously. I have to do some more back check but what Barry said was that at this point they’re mentally giving a set of points to the people with the most of them. As in promotion points. Because they’ve noticed that the people with a lot of complaints are the ones who are actually getting something done.”
“I got the same thing,” Barnett said. “Chief’s phone. There’s a lot of negative vibes being directed at the people who were in place before the new arrivals. Because they don’t seem to have done anything and the new arrivals did.”
“That’s because they were in the wrong positions,” Dana said. “Megadeath can’t be everywhere. I think he tried when he was first assigned but... he couldn’t. And like I said to the chief, sir, the only way I get anything done is by being up the butts of four people. Tell me to do the same thing with a full flight and it’s not going to happen.
“I don’t know how to say this, sir, but... I don’t think that it’s really going to work. I mean in a great big ‘this Alliance isn’t going to work’ way. What people are seeing is the tip of the iceberg of how screwed up things are.”
“It is, however, the hand we’ve been dealt,” Captain DiNote said. “Can you keep playing it?”
“Right up until something bad happens, sir,” Dana said. “Things happen. You know that, sir. The first time they can actually hang something on me, or make it look as if it’s on me, all that ‘attaboy’ is out the window. It’s not getting the division to work that’s stressful. It’s wondering when I’m not quite good enough or somebody figures out a way to make me really look bad that’s got me worried. Don’t be confused by the smiles, these guys seriously want to drive a knife into my back in a very real and literal sense. And now I’m being rated. My rating officer is Diaz and to say that we don’t get along is an understatement.”
“And this is space,” Barnett said. “Accidents happen.”
“Which is why I spend a lot of time checking my suit,” Dana said. “And never use the same navpak twice or set up a pattern.”
“Anything?” DiNote asked.
“A ... couple of times there were things that weren’t the same about my suit as when I’d checked it last, sir,” Dana said. “Doubt it would have killed me but it would have made me look sloppy. But I keep it pretty secure and as long as it’s in private areas, Leonidas has my back. But I can’t rack it in an open zone. And it doesn’t help that the Pathans absolutely flat hate my guts. I don’t go into the common areas at all. There are always Pathans around and if they get their hands on me... I’d rather have my suit sabotaged. Deciding to get my mad out by kicking their ass at jungleball is looking like a short-term answer that created a long-term problem.”
“Anybody but Leonidas have your back?” Captain DiNote asked.
“I think Velasquez and I have sort of bonded, but... No, sir.”
“Jesus Christ,” Thermal said, shaking his head. “Sir, we need to figure out an extract.”
“With due respect, EM, I’m handling the situation,” Dana said. “And I consider it to be good training as well as an important mission. But it’s good to get into breathable even if it’s sort of...” She looked around and giggled. “Thick.”
“Feeling like you’re in the Big Dark?” Mutant asked.
“Hey, I found my way back when my coxswain got hit by a micrometeorite, right?” Dana said, grinning. The “Big Dark” was being far enough into space there were no good visual navigational references. It had confused Dana at first because in space, without the filtering effect of atmosphere, the sky was practically a wall of stars. Which you stopped noticing the first time you had to try to find your way without navigational aids.
Back when she was a lowly engineer recruit the Flight NCO had decided to test her knowledge of celestial navigation by an “accident” where a micrometeor had “killed” him and destroyed the navigational controls of their shuttle.
Finding the Troy again had been... good training.
“And then squirted blood all over the flight compartment which I had to clean up.”
“Do you feel like you’re in the Big Dark?” DiNote repeated.
“I’m not doing a Dutchman, sir,” Dana said. “Not to swell the chief or Thermal’s heads any more than they already are, sir, but I’ve got this great big nav beacon called ‘What would the chief or Thermal do in this situation?’”
“Heh,” Barnett said. “Wait until the day that you suddenly look up and realize that you’re that person.”
“I don’t understand, Chief,” Dana said.
<
br /> “You will,” Thermal said, chuckling.
“When I finally got a pretty full grasp on the situation, I realized I could do two things,” Dana said. “I could coast and ignore the fact that the shuttles were broke, and thereby make my chain of command happy and not have to battle my engineers every day. Or I could crawl up their ass and get the shuttles fixed. Which took more than crawling up their ass. They are not natural engineers, even Palencia who has a degree in it. So it took training them, as well. More or less starting from ‘these are ERs, whatever their rate tabs say.’ Which is what I figured the chief would do.”
“Thank you,” Barnett said.
“And I sure as hell wasn’t going to just sign off on the birds when they weren’t good or their training when it wasn’t to standard,” Dana said. “I couldn’t see Thermal doing that.”
“Damned straight,” Thermal said, his jaw flexing.
“Is that what’s been going on?” Captain DiNote asked.
“Not in my division, sir,” Dana said. “I will not speak for others. However, I think the results speak for themselves. The 143 had a nearly one hundred percent availability condition. On paper. Real availability was myself, three shuttles from another division with a Norté division chief and one shuttle that was straight out of Vulcan and came in without any faults.”
“That’s the conclusion of the MASSEX report,” Barnett said.
“The report isn’t...” Captain DiNote said, then stopped. “Chief’s phone?”
Chiefs reviewed reports before any officer got their hands on them.
“More like IMC, sir,” Barnett said, referring to the intercom system of ships that tended to be turned up to nuclear levels.
“Then...” DiNote said, then paused as Admiral Duvall, followed closely by her aide, walked over.
The group came subtly to attention and drinks were lowered to their sides.
“As you were,” the admiral said, smiling. “Captain, we spoke briefly at the airfield.”
“Yes, ma’am,” DiNote said.
“Have you or your people had any significant briefing?” the admiral asked.
“None whatsoever, ma’am,” the captain replied. “As far as we were aware we were transporting DPs. We were not expecting to attend the reception.”
“Receptions,” the admiral said. “Formal. Most evenings. We’re laying in dry cleaning support. And you’ll be attending the meetings. All of the 142nd personnel, EM Parker and EM Palencia. The last was a hasty add. If he opens his mouth without good reason, I will personally see he hangs. I don’t care who his father is. And he is not going to be sitting on the... Sud side of the table. You will explain to him that he is there as a member of the Alliance Navy. No more, no less.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the captain said.
“The same does not hold for yourself, your people or, interestingly enough, EM Parker,” Duvall said, turning to look at the engineer’s mate. “You were, I’m told, the primary add by Apollo to this meeting. The rest of us are more or less window dressing.”
“I don’t know why, ma’am,” Dana said, trying not to tremble. Engineer’s mate second class should never ever be noticed by admirals.
“Well, it was clearly Vernon,” Duvall said thoughtfully. “Is there anything I need to know about this relationship, EM?”
“Ma’am,” Chief Barnett interjected. “I know the EM very well, ma’am. I know a good bit about her personal life on the Troy. She and Mr. Vernon are not engaged in a relationship as such. Take that from a chief, ma’am.”
“I see,” Duvall said. “He certainly greeted you warmly.”
“I was surprised by that, ma’am,” Dana said. “But the explanation is that we seem to... get along. He considers me a friend, which I found a bit shocking.” She wanted to mention that he had something specifically in mind in regards to Granadica but she knew better than to say that where the AI could hear.
“Well, I’ve also been told he specifically wants your input,” Duvall said. “All of your input but especially yours, EM Parker.” A look of frustration crossed her normally sunny face.
“I wish I could read that bog of his mind. I’ll give Apollo credit. From the very first point that it was even vaguely noticeable that there were consistent problems with the Myrmidons they have been giving us unprecedented access. Not burying us with data, just anything we felt we needed, wanted or desired. I have been beating my head against this wall for three years. I’m not sure why he feels an engineer’s mate has a significant contribution!” She paused and shook her head. “EM Parker, please don’t get me wrong...”
“Ma’am, I don’t know either,” Dana said, trying not to squirm. “I don’t have a degree or anything.”
“Nonetheless, that is why you are all at the reception,” Duvall said. “And the others to follow. And the primary meetings. At the table, not with the aides. The table is larger than I’d expected it to be and I think that will be an issue. But that is what we’ve been handed.”
Dana suddenly remembered Vernon’s comment that all the bigwigs that had signed on to the trip were “a useful addition.” She started to open her mouth then shut it.
“Parker?” Duvall said.
“Just... I’m sure it will work out, ma’am,” Parker said.
“Eight hundred and thirty-seven thousand man-hours,” the admiral said. “Most of it by Ph.D.s and master’s engineers. You are refreshingly optimistic, Engineer’s Mate.” She nodded at the group and walked over to a cluster of admirals.
“Never offer an unsolicited opinion in a situation like that, Dana,” Barnett said.
“I didn’t, Chief,” Dana said. “All I did was open and close my mouth.”
“Learn a poker face,” DiNote said. “This is the highest level meeting on the subject of the problem of the Myrmidons ever held. With the people who are in attendance, the CNO should be here. He would be here except he was tied up. Those sorts of meetings, opening and closing your mouth is liable to kill you quicker than sabotaging your suit. Metaphorically. Coughing at the wrong time can lose the battle.”
“She was just told by the admiral that her input is expected, sir,” the chief pointed out.
“Why, Engineer’s Mate?” the captain asked. “Seriously. I know you know a reason.”
“Sir...” Dana said. “Not... Sir, you’re not cleared.”
“Not...” DiNote said, his eyebrows raising. “Dana, what the hell is going on?”
“We’re here to cover her back, sir,” Mutant said.
“Go.”
“That was implied by what the admiral said, sir,” CM1 Glass said. “She was specifically requested by Apollo. Presumably by Mr. Vernon. Why, I don’t know. But our job is to make sure she doesn’t... cough at the wrong time, or if she does, figure out the fix. We’re here to cover her back. Like the chief just covered her back by pointing out to the admiral that Dana wasn’t screwing Vernon.”
“Thanks, Mutant,” Dana said, wincing. “And for the record, I am definitely not in a relationship with Tyler Vernon, sir.”
“Very well,” DiNote said, shaking his head. “It would be nice to know what we’re covering it for.”
“And against who,” Barnett said.
* * * *
SIXTEEN
“What was discussed with Vernon?” General Benito asked as soon as the three enlisted men were gathered.
“Simple greetings,” Palencia answered. “He was interested in why so many of a better class were assigned to the 143rd.”
“And your answer?” Benito asked.
“That it was our first opportunity of spacefaring and that persons who were likely to assume higher level positions in later life had been chosen,” the EM answered, shrugging. “He mentioned the crass theory that to be a good officer requires experience as an enlisted man and I did not dissuade him. He is new rich. Very unsubtle and without class.”
“When I want an opinion from you I’ll squeeze your head like a zit,” the general said. “Did he gi
ve you any indication that he is aware of the issues with regard to EM Parker?”
“No, sir,” Palencia said.
“Do we have any better understanding of their relationship?”
“I spoke, briefly, with CM1 Glass when Mr. Vernon entered and immediately approached her,” CM Benito said. “He was as unaware of any relationship, prior to this, as EM Parker has maintained.”
“It is looking increasingly like a sham of some sort,” the General said. “That is the only rational explanation. Continue to circulate. Keep your mouths shut and your ears open. Palencia, you are to sit at the meeting tomorrow. You are going to be with the Navy contingent. Again, keep your mouth closed and your ears open.”