The Riss Gamble

by C. R. Daems

  “I’ll take care of it, ma’am.” Wilson saluted and left to follow his men.

 

  Thalia’s laugh tingled through my bones, relieving some of the tiredness.

 

  * * * *

  I woke feeling rested. After a wash, I wore my dress-whites for the inspection and decided to have breakfast at the mess hall before beginning. I hoped Hickson chose to send Wilson. I wasn’t looking forward to any more confrontations with him. I sighed in relief when I saw Valk and Wilson sitting at one of the tables eating.

  “Mind if I join you,” I asked as I approached with my tray, loaded with scrambled eggs, wisent patties, potatoes, and Saipha kaffa.

  “No, ma’am,” Wilson said. “Do you intend to talk to the prisoners today?”

  “Yes, I think I’ll do that first. They’ve had enough time to think over their fate.”

  “Do you mind if I watch? You’ve an interesting style.” Wilson looked at Valk.

 

  Thalia’s laugh echoed gently in my head. When I finished eating, Wilson led Valk and me to the prisoners. The four had been separated and a guard posted to ensure they didn’t communicate. I opened the cell holding the first. Like the others, he was dressed for action: fatigue-like pants, tight shirt, jacket, and boots. Each article’s color either white or light gray, which made good camouflage against the snow.

  “I’ve heard that hanging isn’t too bad. Of course, you’re dead after they hang you. It’s the waiting to be hanged that’s stressful.”

  “You don’t scare me,” the burly man said. He looked wild with his bushy beard and hair, and disheveled clothes. He massed around sixteen stone, and it looked to be all muscle.

  “That’s good. I’d hate to see you cheat the hangman.” I shrugged and turned to go.

  “What do you mean, cheat the hangman?”

  “My superior wanted to give immunity from hanging to anyone who answered my questions. I argued against it, but...he’s my superior. So, I have to talk to each of you. I suggest you all decline his offer. Honor among thieves and all that?” I doubted there existed any honor among them; however, I may have been wrong. No one wanted the deal.

 

 

  “It was a good try, ma’am. You had me convinced.” Wilson said.

  “Sergeant, can you find out what ships stopped here in the last two weeks? Someone dropped them off and will have planned to pick them up. If we can determine who visited here during the last week or two and match that with whoever returns in the next couple of weeks, we may have a lead.”

  “I can do that.” Wilson nodded. “We have a pretty good tracking system in Saipha. It would be hard for ship to sneak in and out without being detected. How am I going to get you the information when I do?”

  “Send it to Colonel Quentin on the Peregrine.”

  * * * *

  Accompanied by Wilson, Valk and I conducted the garrison inspection over the next three days. The inspection went well, which pleased me. I had my fill of fighting with Hickson. The arms and ammunition were properly stored, safeguarded, and accounted for; the personal on the rolls matched the payroll; all the buildings were well maintained; and the supplies and equipment purchases seemed reasonable and necessary. I found the inspection interesting and learned a lot from Valk. After we finished, Wilson arranged for a meeting with Hickson for the next day.

  * * * *

  “Well, Lieutenant, what discrepancies have you manufactured to get even?” Hickson said after Valk and I entered the room. He didn’t offer for us to sit.

  “We found everything is order. You run a good garrison, Major,” I said.

 

  “Couldn’t find anything even if you tried, and I’ll bet you did.”

  I said nothing, just waited to be dismissed.

  “Got nothing to say, Lieutenant?” he said, pointing his finger at me.

  The vitriol was too much for Gunny. “Enough, Major. The Lieutenant has given you her report. There’s nothing else to say, unless you’re trying to provoke her. In that case, I’ll inform Colonel Quentin of your attack on her.”

  Hickson came out of his chair. “Who do you think you are?”

  “I’m a Red Beret Master Gunnery Sergeant.” Valk stared at the major until he sat down.

  “I’m going to report you both,” Hickson said, after he sat down.

  “I hope so, Major. I think Colonel Quentin needs to consider whether you’re fit to command. You’ve insulted a high-Riss, threatened an illegal arrest, and continuously attempted to provoke Lieutenant Reese without reason.”

  “Dismissed.”

  Valk and I turned and left.

  “I know now why everyone stops talking when a Red Beret Gunny passes.” I laughed. It felt good.

  * * * *

  A week later, the Peregrine returned. Wilson had provided us transportation to the station. We left without seeing the Major.

  “Ma’am, only two ships have stopped here in the last three weeks. The Compton and the Hamersmihe. I’ll let you know which one stops back here in the next couple of weeks. Good Luck, Lieutenant.”

  Chapter 14

  The shuttle touched down with a slight bump and the engine cut. I walked down the ramp and saluted as I approached Colonel Quentin and Lieutenant Commander Phillop, who stood waiting.

  “Welcome back, Lieutenant. Rumor has it that you came back with four prisoners. Give you a Gunny and five Wasps, and you start a war. At least you brought all six back, although I see two are slightly worn.”

  “Yes, Sir. It wasn’t much of a fair fight. They outnumbered the raiders. There were only twelve.”

  “Hardly a fair fight,” Quentin said with a smile. “Why don’t you and Gunny come to my office and give me an update. Captain Gebauer is going to want a report. Perhaps it would be best if Gunny and I give it.”

  I agreed. Gebauer and I would both be happier.

 

 

  In Quentin’s office, we were served kaffa and the atmosphere relaxed. I let Gunny do most of the talking. His version was complete without excessive detail, although he left out little when it came to Major Hickson.

  “I think the Captain proved right having you deliver the Riss-humans. I hate to imagine what would have happened if Hickson would have been responsible for delivering them.” Quentin paused and looked at me. “You think the men who attacked you were raiders?”

  “Yes, Sir. I’ve heard that Riss-humans are valuable in the UFN and JPU. They were there for the money. Someone dropped them off and someone will be back to pick them up.”

  “A raider’s ship wouldn’t be allowed in Saipha space.”

  “I believe it was either the merchant ship Compton or the Hamersmihe.”

  “Which one?”

  “Master Sergeant Wilson will let me know if either one returns within the next couple of weeks.”

  Quentin laughed. “I’d love to see what you, Gunny, and five Wasps would do if I let you lose.”

  Phillop and I left together. “Are you going to miss the action, Reese?” Phillop looked concerned while waiting for my answer.

  “No, Sir. I can do without the action. I’m enjoying my duties on the Peregrine. I like Captain Gebauer’s idea of rotations and look forward to gaining the experience.”

  “That’s good because the Captain has decided to rotate you when you get back. Your next assignment will be the Environmental section. I’ll take you over tomorrow to meet Lieutenant Commander Jacklin.”

  * * * *

  “Jacklin, this is L
ieutenant Reese. She’s one of your new Environmental officers,” Phillop said. I braced to attention, waiting his acknowledgement.

  “Thanks, Phillop, I’ll take it from here. Relax, Reese, and have a seat.” Jacklin seated himself. “It’s very unusual to have a Lieutenant in Environmental who isn’t in charge of the unit. The Captain seems to think you’re not qualified. Is that true, Lieutenant?”

 

 

  “Sir, I’m familiar with the theory of a Destroyer class cruiser like the Peregrine; however, I’ve never had hands-on experience.”

  “You need hands-on experience because?” Jacklin’s lip twitched as if he’d said something funny.

  “Sir, I can’t expect to supervise a crew without having done or at least watched them do the work.”

  “Yes, Phillop said you liked to get your hands dirty.” Most Ensigns and JGs seldom do, Reese. They like to watch others get dirty. I don’t know whether you’re qualified or not, but you’re a Lieutenant and should be. Besides, Phillop liked your performance.” Jacklin paused to stare at me. “So you’re in charge.”

  My jaw dropped in surprise.

  “Yes, Sir,” was the best I could get out. Jacklin ignored my surprise and shaky response. “Come, I’ll give you a tour of the unit and introduce you to my three JGs. A couple of them could use supervision.”

  The tour was brief but interesting. I met his three JGs: Jack Daber, Pat Odell, and Sue Akers.

 

 

 

  “Sir, who’s your Chief? I’d like to meet him.”

  “You learn fast, Reese. His name’s Rucker.”

  Senior Chief Petty Officer Rucker came from the same piece of battle steel as the other chiefs. They were no-nonsense men who knew their jobs, people, and who didn’t tolerate fools—or cocky Lieutenants.

  “Senior Chief, this is Lieutenant Reese. She’ll be in charge of the unit.” Jacklin smiled and walked away, leaving me alone with Rucker.

 

  “Ma’am?” Rucker asked.

  “Senior Chief, I need a list of things that I’ll need to know and do. I’ve no hands-on experience.” The chief reached into his pocket and handed me a piece of paper with a list of items and a schedule.

  “I talked to Nesstor. I’ll see you tomorrow at 0700 hours, ma’am.”

 

  I felt her laugh.

  * * * *

  “Good morning, Lieutenant.” Rucker said. “Are you ready to begin work?”

  “Lead on, Senior Chief.”

  “The Environmental unit is the reclamation center for the Peregrine. As much as possible, we recycle the waste from the ship into usable form. For example, the water from washing, cleaning up, and toilets is converted into useable water, commonly called gray water. Water from faucets and showers is converted into drinking water.” He paused. I considered what he had said. At first, I was shocked at the thought of using wastewater for drinking. “Shocking, isn’t it, Lieutenant?”

  “Without knowing more, it is.”

  “Good answer. The water from the various sources comes in here through separate pipes and is processed accordingly. We replenish our supply of drinking water at each stop and only use processed water if we run out. Let’s take a tour of the facility. I’ll show you the location of the equipment, answer any questions you have, and introduce you to the people who maintain it.”

  Rucker stood a head taller than me—everyone did. His face and physique showing signs of age, but his brown eyes looked alert. We spent the next three hours walking through the unit’s many compartments. I learned the layout of the equipment and met all the people on the morning shift. We found Daber in the solid waste processing section. There the solid waste was incinerated.

  “Lieutenant Daber, I believe you’ve met the unit’s new supervisor,” Rucker said, more as a statement than a question. I thought it strange that Rucker emphasized that I was in charge.

  “Commander Jacklin introduced us yesterday. No experience, I understand, Lieutenant.”

  “I don’t have hands-on experience, but then I don’t need it to be in charge, do I?”

  “No. I guess not.”

 

 

  “Perhaps you could explain your responsibilities here, Lieutenant.” I know mine. That clearly flustered him. I’d turned the focus back on him. For the next fifteen minutes he went through an explanation of his perceived duties, which never included doing.

  “Do you think you could fix this equipment, if you had to?”

  “That’s not my responsibility.” He shrugged with a sneer.

  “No, it isn’t.” I turned back to the Rucker. “What next, Chief?” Rucker went on to explain the machinery in detail and its functions.

  “ Senior Chief, I don’t imagine you work a specific shift.”

  “No, ma’am.” He shook his head and smiled.

  “I plan to spend, at least, several hours on each shift. Please inform your sergeants it’s not to look over their shoulders. It’s for me to meet the people and learn what I can from them. I’d appreciate their help, since they’re the experts.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I wasn’t sure why he smiled. “Nesstor thought you might.”

 

  * * * *

  I enjoyed the next month and the time flew by. I’m naturally inquisitive and wanted to be involved in the work, whether repairs or simple routine maintenance. I found the sergeants made an effort to include me when something needed doing, so I could watch. The JGs, except for Daber, soon became involved and seemed to enjoy learning the intricacies of the equipment and the maintenance crews’ responsibilities. Rucker made regular appearances on each shift.

  “Well, Lieutenant, would you like an up close and personal tour of the filtering systems? Usually the equipment’s cleaned when we stop at colonies that have repair facilities, but occasionally it clogs and needs someone to unclog it. He held up a silver suit, helped me put it on, and sealed it.

  “We shut the unit down before we go in, and wear sealed suits because the shaft contains toxic gases and acids that would cause serious burns, if it didn’t kill you. You’ve a separate oxygen tank in case your oxygen line gets separated.” He removed the access cover and we both entered, Rucker first. It was wide enough for two people but not high enough to stand. At each station, he explained the filter’s function and the method used to clean or replace them. The last duct processed hard waste and the filters separated finer and finer particles, which were subsequently incinerated.

  “The processed water is chemically treated and used for the toilets and certain cleaning functions. The clogged filters are replaced and cleaned at repair facilities. Spare filters are stored in these watertight panels next to each duct.”

  I could just imagine the potential danger if we hadn’t been wearing special equipment. Our suits contained no exposed metal that could produce sparks, since the air was filled with explosive gases. Afterwards we showered with our suits on, so they would be clean for the next time.

  “Thank you, Chief. That was interesting.”

  “You’re welcome, Lieutenant. I think you’re the first officer to crawl in there and certainly the first to think it interesting.”

  For the next month I noted that Akers and Odell’s knowledge improved, as did the crews’ morale. Daber remained aloof. Jacklin insisted on a weekly meeting with me for an update on the unit. The meetings allowed me to get to know Jacklin. I found him knowledgeable and interesting.

  “Well, Lieutenant, how do you like this rotation?” he asked during our eighth meeting.

  “I’ve found it interesting, and the crews are very good.”

  “And the JGs?”

&
nbsp; “I think Odell and Akers have shown marked improvement. Daber does his job but isn’t interested in getting involved. I would prefer he did, but it isn’t required for officers.” I tried to be fair and honest.

  “I understand you don’t mind getting involved or dirty.”

  “That’s the way I learn best.”

  “Your are exactly how Phillop described you. Keep up the good work.”

  * * * *

  Two weeks later, with JG Daber on the night shift, the number two hard waste reclamation unit clogged and had to be shut down. Three men were on duty, but only one knew how to change the filters. Two were required for safety.

  “Suit up, Embert, I’ll go with you.”

  “Are you sure, Lieutenant? We could wake Petty Officer Andersen.”

  “That would take another hour. I’d like to get it back on line as soon as possible. I’m here and understand enough to back you up.” I knew it wasn’t really necessary, but I’ve always enjoyed doing rather than watching. Guess that made me a poor officer.

 

  I choked. I laughed with Thalia and didn’t feel so guilty. Fifteen minutes later we entered and quickly located the clogged filter. Somehow the obstruction didn’t appear right.

  “Someone intentionally diverted the solid waste into the recyclable conduit. These filters weren’t made to handle solid waste,” Embert said over the suit’s internal comm. Just then I heard the access door slam shut—and the unit turned on. I knew it wouldn’t be long before the gas and slush would begin to build. I wasn’t sure what lying in slush would do, but I wasn’t anxious to find out. Embert and I began scrambling back down the duct. Halfway back the door opened and a laser flashed. Adrenaline rushed through me, and I slipped in front of Embert. The explosion drove us down the shaft and out into the corridor wall.

  * * * *

  When I regained consciousness, I felt nothing.

  I felt no amusement and would have laughed if I could.

 

  That’s the Thalia I love—everything was fun, amusing, or both. I relaxed.