A Just Determination

by John G. Hemry

  Paul took the offered hand, shaking his head as he did so. "My testimony couldn't have been that important. Commander Herdez—"

  "Commander Herdez is obviously an excellent officer, and equally obviously an officer who believes it is her duty to support her commanding officer. That loyalty is commendable but since it left Commander Herdez little room to testify in any other way than she did, her testimony didn't carry nearly as much weight as it otherwise would have. You, on the other hand, had no obvious motive for your testimony. You're clearly not stupid, so you couldn't have believed that hitching your wagon to Wakeman would be a good career move. You didn't like the man and you didn't like what he'd done. But you still felt obligated by a higher sense of duty to testify in his favor. I guarantee you the members of court-martial were impressed by that."

  "Well . . . thank you, ma'am."

  "Are you sure you're not interested in becoming a lawyer?"

  "No, ma'am! No offense."

  "That's okay, Mr. Sinclair. Good-bye and good luck."

  Paul headed for the door, seeing that everyone else from the Michaelson had now left. He was almost there when Commander Herdez appeared in the opening. "Ensign Sinclair."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "Would you care to accompany me to the officer's club bar?"

  "Ma'am?" Paul looked around, expecting to see other officers who'd been invited to the same location. They must already be on the way there. "Certainly, ma'am."

  But when they reached the bar it was empty but for one table where Admiral Fowler and Captain Nguyen were already kicking back and swapping sea stories. Herdez stopped briefly to pay them her respects, then led Paul to the far side of the bar. "What are you drinking, Mr. Sinclair?"

  "Rum and Coke, ma'am."

  "A good choice. I'll have the same." Herdez sat silently until their drinks came, then for a few moments longer, taking an occasional sip of her drink. "They serve good rum here. Barbados. Martinique. Saint Croix. Have you been to the Caribbean, Mr. Sinclair?"

  "Just on training cruises, ma'am."

  "A lot of fine sailors left their bones in those waters, Mr. Sinclair. We carry a considerable burden when we don these uniforms. We need to live up to those sailors' finest moments, and avoid their worst failures. Both as officers and as individuals." Paul, uncertain as to what if anything to say, waited until Herdez spoke again. "Captain Wakeman is not the finest officer I ever served under. I know you're well aware of his shortcomings. It's easy to follow great leaders, Mr. Sinclair. They make it easy. You accomplish great things because they make it easy. The challenge for all of us is to succeed when we do not benefit from a great leader."

  "I never thought about that before, ma'am. But that's true."

  "I know how the junior officers think, Mr. Sinclair. I was actually an ensign once, myself." Herdez smiled sardonically as she took another drink. "They wondered why I backed Captain Wakeman the way I did, even when the captain's actions were clearly unprofessional or mistaken. You've wondered that, haven't you?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  Herdez seemed to be looking through the far wall of the bar, out through the intervening bulkheads and out into empty space. "Duty is a very stern mistress, Mr. Sinclair. It left me no alternative. Ultimately, the decision on how to interpret and act upon our orders rested with Captain Wakeman. As your testimony made clear, Captain Wakeman was put in a very difficult position by the wording of his orders and his mission assignment."

  "Lieutenant Commander Garrity said the same thing, ma'am, but I thought the members of the court-martial didn't seem all that impressed by the fact that I thought the orders were hard to understand."

  "They were impressed, Mr. Sinclair. They wanted to be sure you could reason well, but I have worked with officers such as Admiral Fowler and Captain Nguyen in the past. I know they believe it is our responsibility to draft our orders in such a fashion that they can even be understood by an ensign. I hope you don't take that statement adversely."

  Paul couldn't help smiling. "No, ma'am."

  "Good. You, personally, revealed during your testimony and the cross-examination that you can understand and interpret orders. But if the orders received by you or any other officer favor confusion and convoluted sentences over clarity and conciseness, it is little wonder if those officers are left uncertain as to the proper course of action either before or during a crisis. It is also little wonder if such an officer takes steps of which we disapprove after we have provided so little clear guidance as to proper courses of action, even if the officer is already a paragon of good judgment."

  Paul nodded, not saying what both Herdez and he knew, that Wakeman had been far from a paragon of good judgment.

  Herdez looked back at her drink. "The orders issued to Captain Wakeman in this case only exacerbated the challenge to his personal judgment. He did not rise to the necessary levels of performance, but that is not a criminal offense. The members of the court, by their recommendation that Captain Wakeman's qualifications for command be reviewed with an eye to revocation, obviously believed that failure does indicate Captain Wakeman is unsuitable for further command level assignments."

  "Ma'am, even with those orders, wasn't there something else we could have done? Before something like destroying that SASAL ship happened?"

  Herdez glanced at him. "What you're really asking is if I could have done something else. Correct? Because I was the officer in the best position to do so. But, as I said before, duty left me no alternative but to support Captain Wakeman's decisions."

  "You could talk to the captain in private, couldn't you?"

  "Mr. Sinclair, you heard my testimony. You know I did that. But that's as far as it can go. Publicly, I must back the captain's decisions. All of them. And the captain must trust me to do so. Do you understand why?"

  Paul stared down at the surface of the bar. "Not entirely."

  "You will. Someday. For now, let me ask you. Suppose I overruled one thing the captain ordered. Just one thing. What would happen forever after when the captain issued an order?"

  "We'd all look to see if you were going to overrule it. Is that why you needed to back Captain Wakeman, ma'am? Because otherwise he wouldn't really be captain?"

  She took another drink. "A good leader doesn't need unquestioning obedience. People follow that leader because they choose to, because that leader has their trust. A poor leader requires unquestioning obedience, because without that a poor leader will lose all meaningful ability to exercise command. Would I have been fulfilling my duty to the Navy if I had caused Captain Wakeman to lose his ability to command the ship?"

  "I guess not. Then you're saying the worse a commander is, the better his or her subordinates have to be?"

  "In a nutshell, yes. Captain Wakeman's weakness as a commanding officer required corresponding strength from his subordinates. You do understand why?"

  The question could have stung, but Herdez' tone was that of a teacher, not a superior annoyed by the lack of understanding displayed by a junior. Paul nodded. "Yes. It makes sense. I mean, I can imagine if every officer on a ship was messed up, that ship would be a disaster."

  "Exactly."

  "But, Commander, what happens when something like that ship encounter occurs? If we're backing the captain for all we're worth, and he's ordering something stupid anyway, what can we do?"

  "What we did, Mr. Sinclair. Follow the orders, then accept the consequences and work toward a just determination of fault."

  "There's no other alternative?"

  "I don't know of one." Another uncharacteristic smile from Herdez. "Perhaps you'll find one, someday. One that works for you. It's not impossible. I've just never found one."

  "Ma'am, if you've never found an alternative, I don't see how I could." Perhaps because of the rum, Paul let the words slip out, then flinched inside. Buttering up the XO to her face? Who am I, Sam Yarrow? Yeah, I really meant it, but what a stupid thing to do.

  Instead of upbraiding him for the implied flattery,
Herdez shook her head. "Don't underestimate yourself, Mr. Sinclair. You have a great deal of potential. Yes, you require a lot of learning, a lot of guidance. To be truly effective, such guidance shouldn't simply direct you to whatever goal a superior thinks is best. It has to let someone such as yourself realize on their own what they should do, and then give them free rein to do it. As you did. And when a subordinate does that, it gives great satisfaction to those who are endeavoring to lead them."

  Paul took a long, slow drink to give himself time to think. She wanted me to testify like I did. Why didn't she just tell me to do it, or tell me she wanted me to do it? But then I wouldn't have learned anything about myself, would I? And Jen sure as hell wouldn't have been impressed if all I was doing was following the XO's orders. So, thank God Herdez did it her way. But how did she guide me? Sykes. That talk Commander Sykes had with me. Herdez and Sykes are soul-mates, Mike Bristol said. Did she ask Sykes to give me that talk? Or did Sykes just understand she wanted him to do that, because they're on the same wavelength for things they think that matter? Sykes didn't shoot down Wakeman on the witness stand, either, come to think of it. "Commander Sykes did a good job of that," Paul finally offered, curious to see how Herdez would react.

  "Did he?" If Herdez had known of Sykes' talk before this, she didn't betray the fact in any way. "It's a shame Commander Sykes is a limited duty officer. Despite his somewhat relaxed attitude toward some matters, he would have made an excellent line officer. You'd do well to continue listening to him."

  I wonder if that's why Sykes eats meals with the junior officers? Any of the department heads could have been assigned that duty, but it's Sykes. I never realized how subtle the XO can be. "I will, ma'am."

  "Good. Now, as to another matter." Herdez bent a hard look toward Paul. "I see that you and Ensign Shen are getting along very well together. Extremely well."

  "Uh . . ." Oh, God. She knows. The XO knows. Paul wondered if the blood was actually draining from his face or if it just felt that way. How'd she find out? What's she going to do to us?

  Herdez was looking at her drink now, as if unaware of Paul's pallor. "I believe I can trust both you and Ensign Shen to act with all due discretion and restraint as long as you are both assigned to the Michaelson."

  "Yes, ma'am. Absolutely, ma'am."

  "Make no mistake, if I had any doubts about either your or Ensign Shen's ability to act appropriately you'd be getting a different type of guidance, Mr. Sinclair, despite the very short time remaining in which both of you will be assigned to the same command. After Ensign Shen transfers to the Maury, you may make the relationship public, of COURSE. But even then it is best not to flaunt it."

  "We will act appropriately, ma'am. And I don't believe Ensign Shen has any intention of ever flaunting it, ma'am."

  "I wouldn't have expected anything less from Ensign Shen. Or from you." Herdez looked at Paul again, a ghost of a smile on her lips. "Good luck to you two."

  "Th-thank you, ma'am."

  "I only have another six months left on the Michaelson, Mr. Sinclair. After that, I don't know what my follow-on assignment may be. But I will be keeping an eye on you. You've shown an uncommon measure of character."

  "Thank you, ma'am."

  "I'm sure you need to get back to the ship. Thank you for your time."

  Paul had no trouble recognizing the polite but unmistakable dismissal. "Certainly, ma'am. Thank you." He left, blinking a little in the brighter light outside the bar.

  Jen was still on watch, manning the quarterdeck, the bright brass of the ceremonial long glass gleaming from where it was tucked beneath one arm, her uniform a vivid splash of color against the grays of the surfaces around her. Both her enlisted watch standers appeared to be off running errands, leaving her temporarily alone on the quarterdeck. Paul rendered his salute to the national flag aft, then to Jen. "Request permission to come aboard."

  She flipped a quick salute of her own in response. "Permission granted. Everybody else got back a while ago, so I already know what happened to Wakeman. Congratulations, I guess. Where have you been?"

  "Having a drink with the XO." Paul barely stifled a laugh at Jen's reaction. "I'm serious. She invited me to a bar and we had a drink and a talk."

  She leaned in to smell his breath. "You've had a drink, alright. What did Herdez want to talk about?"

  "Leadership stuff. Why she backed Wakeman the way she did, what you have to do sometimes to carry out your duties, how to guide juniors to carry out their duty. Stuff like that."

  "Wow. She gave you a one-on-one leadership talk? You got yourself a mentor, Paul. Herdez could be one hell of a sugar-daddy. Assuming you survive having her as a mentor."

  "Maybe. I think she was happy with the way I testified."

  "How can you tell with Herdez? The woman's as emotive as a rock. Did you talk about anything else?"

  "Uh . . . one other thing. Herdez also knows about, uh . . ."

  "About what?"

  "You. And me."

  "You told her?!"

  "No! She knew! I have no idea how."

  Jen sighed and shook her head. "Okay. So we're dead meat. Are we ordered to stay a minimum of two meters away from each other until hell freezes over? Or are we just confined to quarters until I transfer off the ship?"

  Paul grinned. "Neither. She told us to be discreet, with no inappropriate behavior while you're still assigned to the Michaelson, and wished us luck."

  "Wait a minute. This was Commander Herdez? Was she drunk?"

  "Uh-uh. I don't know, Jen, but for a moment there she seemed almost maternal."

  "Maternal? Herdez? Are you listening to yourself?"

  "Yes. I can't explain it. I think she likes you, Jen."

  "Heaven help me. He thinks one of the primary banes of my existence likes me, and he thinks our XO is acting maternal, of all things. Are you going to tell anyone else about this little chat you had with Herdez?"

  "I'm sure not planning on it."

  "Good. I'd like my last days on the Merry Mike to be free of accusations of hitching my cart to a lunatic. After all we've been through, I don't need a personal crisis now to top it off." Jen favored Paul with a half-stern, half-pleading look. "Do me a favor, Paul. Try not to get into another mess like this Wakeman thing again."

  "I'll try. It's not like I asked to be in the last one."

  "No, but people who are willing to tilt at windmills tend to find themselves doing it again and again." She smiled. "But what am I complaining about? I knew what I was getting into."

  "So did I." Paul smiled back at her. "After a few months of pure hell, I'm looking forward to whatever the future brings again."

  "Hell ain't over yet. In a few weeks you could be ordered out for another long patrol and I'll be left on the pier doing the teary-eyed girlfriend waving goodbye bit."

  "Really? You'd do that?"

  "No. Not the tears, anyway. But you're still part of the crew of a warship. I'm going to be on the Maury, so when you're underway I can't help bail you out of whatever your latest screw-up happens to be. At least you'll still have people like Carl and Kris to depend on, but they'll also be depending on you. Because, Mr. Paul Sinclair, your actions have branded you a leader of men and women, a leader who will be looked to for inspiration and guidance by the poor, benighted junior officers of the world."

  "Yeah, I'm sure."

  "You don't believe me? Just wait. They'll look to Paul, because Paul has shown he has the guts to make tough decisions and stick to them. Things'll get tough and they'll turn to you and say, 'Paul, what should we do?' Don't blame me when that happens. You brought that little extra responsibility on yourself."

  Paul shook his head. "I have a lot of trouble believing that. I'm still the most junior ensign on the ship. They're going to look to me for leadership? I don't think so. All they'll be asking me is how I convinced Jen Shen to be my girlfriend."

  "Since the world hasn't exactly been beating down my door for that privilege, people may not be n
early as impressed by that status as you think. But if you want to believe anyone'll be envious, more power to you. Just remember what I said, Paul. They're going to expect you to keep showing leadership. That's going to make things harder. What else do you have to worry about? Herdez. She's still the XO, and assuming she likes you, that means she'll be riding you harder than ever. Then there's the new captain. Nobody knows what she's like. She's meeting with all the officers at fourteen hundred, by the way, so you probably get some clues then. Maybe she's another Wakeman or just a Captain Bligh. Maybe you'll get lucky and have a real leader for a captain, but you can't count on it."