by Alan Black
Once off his feet, he was able to dial up the speed of the carts and move at a pace faster than he could run. He even managed to overtake a few of the navy officers moving along the same corridor. Each time he slowed just enough to give the officer a chance to climb aboard one of the carts.
He had all four carts crammed with a full load by the time he reached the end of the corridor. The weight was not a problem, but there were men and woman hanging all over the four carts. Finally, he eased the power back to a stop when he came upon two enlisted ratings, who were checking boarding sheets and guiding officers to their various shuttles.
Stone waited until all of the other officers had been directed away before he stepped up to the Master Chief who seemed to be in charge.
“Excuse me, Master Chief. I am-.”
“Yeah, I know who you are,” she interrupted. “You are Midshipman Blackmon Perry Stone. Sorry, Mister Stone but you have just been bumped off your shuttle, by a late arriving junior ensign.”
Stone nodded. “Okay, Chief, I guess I can live with that. However, most of this luggage belongs to the officers getting on those shuttles.”
“Mister Stone, giving luggage to the lowest ranking officer happens all the time. Only the smart ones bother to get a cart.” The Master Chief said with a wide grin.
“How would someone get a pile moved this big without a cart?” Stone frowned.
The Master Chief grinned bigger, “Well, most of the time it is just an extra bag or two. Pardon me for saying so, Mister Stone, but you must have done something to irritate the higher ups.”
Stone nodded his head, “Yes, I do seem to have that talent.”
The Master Chief laughed out right. “Well, Mister Stone, you still got the better of them. Not only are you the first midshipman I have ever seen who knew how to tag the carts together, you’re the first I ever saw actually riding on the cart. Plus, you may have earned yourself a few brownie points by giving the others rides. Say, we could lose a few of these bags for you, Mister Stone? If you want?”
Stone grinned back. “No, Master Chief. I don’t think that will be necessary. Would you point me to where these bags should be loaded?”
“Of course, Mister Stone, however as an officer you do have another way to load these. May I?” Without waiting for a response from Stone, the Master Chief turned and bellowed. “Hey Kaliban! Grab seven other guys and hustle your cans over here. No, I don’t care who you grab. Get some F.N.G.s waiting to board. Don’t you worry, Mister Stone, we’ll get ‘em all loaded and stored proper.”
Stone handed the controller to a spacer and grabbed his own duffel off the cart as it whisked away.
“Thank you, Master Chief. Since I have been bumped off my shuttle, may I ask where I should wait for my ride?”
“Well, Mister Stone. That would be up to you. However, if I may offer some advice?”
“Master Chief, I would be grateful for any advice you can offer.”
“As I see it, you are an officer. You have a right to ride with other officers, but those shuttles carrying naval officers are full, as are the shuttles carrying officers from the other services. So, you can order me to call the Ol’ Toothless and have them send a shuttle for just you. That, by the way, is not a good option and I can guarantee it will piss off the old man. Admiral Shalako is a good captain, but sending a shuttle for one lone midshipman does seem like a bit of a waste, even to me.”
Stone nodded, “I agree, Master Chief. What other options do I have?”
The Master Chief looked thoughtful. “Well, Mister Stone, you could ride up in a cargo hauler, but since they are not pressurized and don’t carry atmosphere, I wouldn’t recommend it. What I do recommend is that you follow me and I will get you on a shuttle for NCOs; that is, if you don’t mind riding with the lowly, hairy-legged swine?”
“I do not mind at all, Master Chief. Lead on, if you please.”
“Aye, aye, Mister Stone.” At Stone’s look the Master Chief stopped. “What?”
“That is the first time anyone has ever said ‘aye, aye’ to me. It kind of startled me at first,” Stone said.
“I suggest, Mister Stone, that you get used to new things. If you freeze up every time something new happens to you, you are in for a bad time in the Emperor’s navy. It will all be new, so learn to roll with the changes. Got it, son?”
“Yes, Master Chief. It won’t happen again. Lead on, if you please.”
“Aye, aye, Mister Stone.”
Stone followed the Master Chief along a row of ramps, each leading to a shuttle. About halfway down, the Master Chief motioned to a Spacer Third Class standing at the head of a ramp.
The Master Chief said, “You go with this spacer, Mister Stone. She will get you to the Ol’ Toothless.” Without waiting for a response, the woman turned and sprinted back to her post, shouting at spacers all along the way.
“This away here, Mister Stone,” the spacer said. “You just go ahead and drop your stuff. I will get it in the luggage hold for you.”
Stone followed along, trying hard to think of the slender, blonde girl ahead of him as just a common spacer, and not as the prettiest young woman he had seen in months. She was also the first navy person he had seen who was about his age.
He had been repeatedly and loudly warned there was a vast gulf between midshipmen and enlisted. He had also been told there was a vast gulf between other navy officers and midshipmen. Those vast gulfs were not meant to be spanned. He had taken many classes in the last few months during basic training about sexual harassment and how to treat the opposite sex, both those of the same rank and those who were not. He had repeated each of those classes during midshipman training.
None-the-less, watching the girl’s swaying backside ahead of him, Stone felt the beginnings of an erection. His training officers had sworn he could learn to control the physical reflex, but none of the techniques they taught him were coming to mind. The more he tried to think of something else the worse his problem became. His only hope would be that either his pants were tight enough to hide what was going on, or that he could sneak on board the shuttle without anyone noticing.
“Officer on deck,” the spacer shouted.
Stone snapped to attention in the doorway of the shuttle as every seat emptied with the occupant rising rapidly to their feet. Stone realized everyone was looking at him. There were a few snickers, but no one said anything.
A senior NCO in the front row leaned over to Stone. She said in a low voice that only he could here, “As you were, Mister.”
“What? I mean, I beg your pardon, Chief?” Stone looked startled.
“That is what you say, Midshipman,” she said. “Just say, ‘As you were.’ I will take care of the rest.”
“As you were,” Stone said.
The chief turned about and faced the shuttle. “Okay people. We have to make room for the midshipman. We still have an empty row in the back?”
Stone nodded and started to head down the aisle. The chief put a hand on his chest to halt his progress. She glanced down at his chest to read the name tag. “Just a second, Mister Stone. We’ll get you sorted out quickly enough.”
Stone’s erection was getting worse. The chief was old enough to be his mother, but she was female and her touch re-excited him. He blushed and wanted to turn around, but he knew that young blonde was just behind him. Suddenly, the Chief stepped in front of him, completely blocking everyone’s view of him. She began shuffling people in their seats.
The young blonde spacer tapped him on the shoulder, “Good luck, Mister. I gotta go get your luggage on board.”
“Thank you, Spacer Third Class,” Stone managed to stutter back.
The Chief had managed to move everyone back a row, maintaining the rank discipline. The lowest ranking NCO was still in the back and rising in rating until they reached her seat, which was now in the second row, instead of the first.
Stone had all four seats open on either side of the aisle. He plopped himself down in the
port side window seat. The Chief leaned over the seat and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Pardon me, Mister Stone? Would you like to take command of the shuttle cabin or would you like me to handle it?” It was obvious from her tone what her choice would be.
Stone agreed whole-heartedly. “If you please, Chief. Since you have already established command, I suggest that you continue.”
“Thank you, Mister. I suggest you buckle yourself in. We are going to lift off pretty soon and it is best to get strapped down now. If you need help with it…” Her voice trailed off.
“No thank you, Chief. I am sure I can manage a five point seat restraint.”
Stone snapped himself in tightly, closed his eyes and tried to work math problems in his head. He had just managed to control his thinking enough that his erection was beginning to subside, when the young blonde spacer stepped aboard. She reached down and grabbed the seat restraint buckle in his lap. She gave a quick tug, making sure it was snapped into place and then moved on back down the aisle.
The chief shouted over the murmur of voices. “Okay people, the pilot has just told me that the officer’s shuttles have started to depart. We should be right behind them. It is a short ride to the Ol’ Toothless, so let’s just relax and don’t get too rowdy.” She leaned over the seat back and tapped Stone on the shoulder. “If you need anything, Mister Stone, you just let me or the spacer know, okay?”
Stone could only nod. His erection was making it hard to think. He knew what help he wanted, but he sure could not ask for that kind of help and there wasn’t anywhere on the shuttle he could be alone.
The chief’s voice floated to him from her seat. “Oh, crap on a breadstick. Alright people. We have a slight delay. The pilot says we aren’t going anywhere for a while, so just relax.
Stone closed his eyes and tried to recite the multiplication tables.
He awoke with a start, hearing his name called over some loud speakers through the open hatchway. The Chief leaned over the seatback and tapped him on the shoulder. “Did you have a nice nap, Mister Stone?”
“Nap? I guess I fell asleep,” Stone replied. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs and rubbed his eyes.
The Chief nodded. “Yes, Mister Stone, you slept right through the whole flight. We are already docked inside the shuttle bay on the Periodontitis. Now, us lowly NCO types can’t get out until you do, so I suggest you get a move on. It also sounds like someone is looking for you and that someone sounds well and truly pissed.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“Midshipman, you can’t be as stupid as these reports indicate.” Second Lieutenant Vaarhoo spat at Stone. Vaarhoo was waiving a data pad at Stone, whipping it past his face too fast to read. “Well, are you?”
Stone tried to think of an answer. He would sound argumentative if he answered ‘No’. He would admit to being stupid if he answered ‘Yes’. Either response would cause this mentoring session to become longer and more detailed, listing every error and mistake he had made since his last session with Lieutenant Vaarhoo. After three months of these sessions Stone had yet to discover how to respond to his supervisor’s questions. He knew the best response would be to remain silent and continue to stand at attention.
“Sir-” Stone began, against his better self-advice.
“Shut up, Stone.” Vaarhoo bellowed. “I am really tired of your excuses. These counseling sessions don’t seem to do you any good, plus they make me late for lunch.”
Stone tried to work up sympathy for Vaarhoo being late for lunch. Since he was assigned to third watch warehouse duty, any meeting with his mentor/counselor in the middle of Vaarhoo’s day was effectively in the middle of Stone’s sleep cycle.
“I don’t understand it, Midshipman. Third watch productivity schedules are down since you took over. You have some good crewmen on third watch. Petty Officer First Class Watkins is your senior enlisted crewman. He has been a warehouse tech on third watch for longer than I have been on this ship. If you can’t get the minimum amount of work done, then just get out of his way and let Watkins do your work for you.”
Stone stood still. This was a topic he had heard at every other counseling session. It was a waste of time trying to explain that PO Watkins was a lazy screw-up even on those rare occasions when he was sober.
“Your personal studies are not improving in the least.” Vaarhoo shook his head in disgust. “This reflects very badly on me. As your tutor, your failure has an impact on my success. So, I am going to wipe every study record back to the first day you came on board. You are going to start over again.”
Stone groaned out loud the first time Vaarhoo wiped his record. The second time he just frowned. This time he just stood still, willing his face to not show any emotion.
Vaarhoo’s tutoring sessions boiled down to no more than giving Stone study slips and sending him to the ship’s library to review self-study lessons. Of course, all study was to be done during Stone’s off watch time. Stone realized early that Vaarhoo’s study-slips were seldom relevant to any current course of study, but the ship’s computer recorded all study material he used and the time he spent. It also reported it all back to Vaarhoo.
He tried to pull more helpful self study lessons, but the computer reported it back to Vaarhoo causing an extra counseling session about insubordination and obedience to lawfully given instruction. Stone had to check the items on the study slips from the library and work through them whether they were relevant or not.
Vaarhoo continued, “This evaluation on your crew’s response to the last general quarters drill is beyond failure even for you. I know you understand what is required, yet your crew failed so miserably that our entire section was in jeopardy of a non-response rating.”
Stone stood still. Even trying to explain was worse than useless. He knew his crew played a pivotal role in any general quarters drill. It was important but it was also an easy station where all he had to do was supervise his crew as they dialed up munitions from warehouse storage and put it in transport tubes to supply gun crews as needed.
“You were unable to even supply the barest minimum of munitions to the gun crews. If the Periodontitis has been really attacked by Hyrocanian forces we would all be dead by now and it would be your fault.”
Stone decided it was not prudent to mention that his crew was only one of a hundred munitions feed crew stations based around the massive warehouse ship. It would even be more imprudent to mention that over half his crew of twelve had been granted leave, were on weekend passes or away at special training classes. The crewmen losses had been initiated and approved by Vaarhoo without any input from Stone. Two of the remaining crew had reported to sickbay at the start of their shift.
Stone had been left with four ratings. Trying to explain that general quarters munitions feed station #97 could not be manned by any less than eight crewmen would not have helped Stone’s case with Vaarhoo. He kept his mouth closed while Vaarhoo ranted.
Remaining quiet seemed to be working as it appeared the lieutenant was winding down. Stone resolved to do two things. The first was to continue to keep his mouth shut. The second was to find a way to improve his personal study scores. He knew that if Vaarhoo could not or would not teach him, he would need to find someone to help him get the right study slips. He would still have to work through what Vaarhoo gave him, but he might as well put in more study time. He didn’t have anything else to do.
Stone would have asked a fellow midshipman for help or advice, but he had not developed any relationships close enough to trust them to ask for help. Any such conversation might sound as if he was complaining about his direct supervisor. Stone would be in worse trouble if that leaked back to Vaarhoo.
He was separated from most of the midshipmen on the Periodontitis by a number of factors. Most of the midshipmen on board as were older than Stone. He recently celebrated his sixteenth birthday, but he was still five or six years younger than most midshipmen. He was the only midshipman assigned to his duty location on
third watch. He was also so new to the ship most of the other midshipmen were attached to cliques well before he arrived on board.
On other ships in the Empire’s navy, he might have had bunkmates he could have trusted with his troubles, but the Periodontitis was so huge and roomy that even midshipmen were afforded private rooms. He had not gotten to know any of the midshipmen living on the same corridor; mainly because they all seemed to work first watch in the central tower.
The ship was designed around a central core that looked like a tube or cylinder with one rounded end. This tube was approximately sixteen kilometers long with a diameter almost half of its own length. The central tower housed all command and operations staff, all administrative staff, main engine crew and all maintenance staff. Thousands of navy personnel lived and worked in the central tower supplying everything from clothing to machine shops to donut shops and gymnasiums to work off the donuts.
The artificial gravity in the central core defined the decks as if the central tower was a huge stack of giant poker chips. If the ship was standing on its end, the command and control functions would be in the top rounded end. Stone had learned the marines, while technically cargo, were housed in the bottom of the central tower, just above the shuttle and hanger bays. The four marines he met back on Lazzaroni Station were stationed as permanent crew, but were housed with their transient charges.
There were seven additional towers of exactly the same length and diameter laying alongside the central tower. Each tower stretched length next to length with their rounded command bridges clustered at the front end and their hanger bays clustered at the back end. The only picture Stone had seen of the Ol’ Toothless looked like a bundle of eight hotdogs tied together in a bunch.
Each tower was a massive warehouse storing everything and anything for the Empire’s military. One of the tubes was a fully functioning hospital with stored emergency medical supplies and enough equipment to build and supply dozens of hospitals. Another tower stored every version of military uniform, toothers, shoe shine kits, bath soap and other sundries necessary for human life.