by Max Jager
"It may have been your responsibility, but this is your very first deployment on an active vessel of war. I would have understood if even Commander Chant had failed to get me the appropriate documents. In fact, there have been times when he hasn't given me the appropriate documents. I am not so strict a commander that I expect immediate perfection."
"Begging the Captain's pardon, but that's all well and good for you to say, but I'll bet you never forgot to give your captain a briefing document!"
"No, I didn't. What I did do was spill tea all over Rear Admiral Jason Alexander when he was still Captain Alexander and I was Flag Lieutenant to Admiral Dorcas." Here Aaron paused and smiled and Cameron's incredulous look. "Tate was Dorcas's Flag Captain and I somehow tripped at the beginning of a meeting and the tea came out of my hand and went all over him, ruining his uniform and badly damaging a photograph on his desk which was a gift from Prince Edward. I could have died from embarrassment."
"But," she cried, "you're you! How could you do that?"
"What do you mean I'm me, Lieutenant?" Aaron asked incredulously.
"I'm sorry, sir. But you're a legend! Every single tactical instructor at the Academy used at least one example from your career. You're the youngest captain in the Navy's history! You beat Admiral Andrews in war games while you were at the Academy, you were the one who jumped from Lieutenant JG, straight to Lieutenant Commander as a destroyer skipper because of how you performed at the Battle of Amery, you were the one who took Defiant up against a friggin' heavy cruiser and won!" Here she paused for breath and to recompose herself. " When a cadet gets asked which officer in the Navy they most admire, you are the most common answer. Not any of the Admirals, though they are admirable, but you. And I failed you!"
"Let me say this once, Lieutenant, very clearly. You did not fail me. Whatever you may have done, you didn't do that. At worst you failed yourself and your reputation. At best it was just an honest mistake. The XO was supposed to disseminate and double check your list. She missed it every bit as much as you did. It happens. No harm done. I have no reservations about your abilities to do your duty. I harbour no doubts that when things go south and we are in dire need of a capable EWO you will freeze or fail. I believe you will do your duty and do it well."
"Thank you, sir. I don't know if I agree, but thank you."
"See, more informal already. You're disagreeing with your captain." She froze, suddenly mortified. "And now, I think we should really return to the bridge." Aaron's lips quirked in a half smile as he rose.
She nodded, and led the way to the hatch, as they passed through into the bridge, Darnelle stood from the command chair and nodded at Aaron. "We're just about to the proving grounds, sir. Another minute and we'll be within practical comm range."
"Thank you for the timely warning, Commander." Aaron slid into the command chair and checked the readout out of habit rather than out of any concern for their actual status.
"Entering comm range now, skipper." Lieutenant Jack Russell's voice was a deep rumble which reminded Aaron more of a landslide than anything else and perfectly matched his bear of a figure. He was a latecomer to the crew of Mission, having only been assigned three days earlier. But he had slotted in well with the other officers, getting on particularly well with Lieutenant Spindren. He rejoiced in the nickname of "Sparky" for obvious reasons.
"Thank you, Sparky. Raise Station Control for me, would you?" Aaron said smiling.
"Raising Station Control, aye sir."
"Station Control, this is Captain Hawthrone of Mission. We have arrived a little ahead of schedule, and for that you have my apologies. But can you really blame us for wanting to stretch our legs a bit?" Aaron gave the pick-up his most winning smile.
Mission slid silently through space towards the station which awaited it. Here was the place where the Navy had sent its ships for their shakedown cruises for the last 150 years. It was placed on the outside of the asteroid belt to provide the greatest variety of possible tests on the normal space manoeuvrability of the vessels sent for trials there. It made use of the natural obstacle course that was the asteroid belt to test how well a ship handled. The belt itself also provided more than sufficient targets for gunnery practice. The open space on the outside of the belt provided ample space for test of acceleration and mock battles pitched between the ships doing acceptance trials in real space. It was an environment purpose built for pushing ships to their limits, and as a result, the station which oversaw the whole process was also equipped with vast array of repair facilities, in case something went wrong on one of the tests. Its official name was the Imperial Naval Proving Grounds, but, because of the level of difficulty involved, everyone in the Navy referred to it as the Crusher.
"Captain Hawthrone, this is Admiral Badim, of Control, I understand the need to stretch the legs of a magnificent ship such as yours and admit that I probably would have indulged myself as well." The dark skinned, Asiatic face of Admiral Harpreet Badim filled the viewer. She was an amiable sort, perfectly suited to her position as head of the Bureau of Shipbuilding. "I would like to extend an invitation to you and your officers to dine with me this evening."
"We would, of course, be delighted to join you for dinner tonight. What time would be acceptable?"
"I was thinking 19:00, does that sound good?"
"Fantastic."
"Good then your holding station is 3. Welcome to the Crusher and we'll see you soon."
–
Aaron straightened his uniform jacket one more time as he stood in front of the mirror in his quarters. Jennifer or Jenny, as she much preferred, had worked a wonder with the uniforms that had been sent up from his wardrober on the Capital. While they had been slightly too small when they arrived, she had very carefully let the whole garment out using extra fabric within the garment itself and it now fit him like a glove. He cut a dashing figure in the dress uniform the occasion required of him. The usual black buttons down the right hand side of the jacket were now burnished gold in colour, gleaming brightly, similarly, the epaulettes rather than a dull gold braid, were shined to brightness as well. The blood red braid of the Monarch's Thanks, which usually simply circled the left shoulder, now circled the shoulder with tassels hanging down to belt height. The grey silk stripe down the outside of the trouser legs, leant the uniform an air of deeper formality and rather than the usual uncovered head a duty naval officer, he wore a visored cap, with the same red braiding of the Monarchs Thanks replacing the more traditional gold.
Jenny slipped into the room behind him and brushed a bit of invisible fluff from the shoulder of the jacket. "Well, sir, I suppose you'll have to do."
Her smile gave away how truly proud she was of the work she had done in the last week. Their relationship had gone through something of a transition from the first night. She had been slightly surprised, and at first affronted when on the second night aboard Aaron had insisted on cooking his own evening meal. She had scolded and nagged and even outright threatened until she had seen how capably he handled himself in the kitchen and then had promptly begun to debate the merits of various spices in the curry Aaron currently had simmering on the stove top. Since then they had worked together on menus and other catering related things within Aaron's command. Conversely, when Aaron had objected to her fussing over his appearance and his uniform, she had put her foot down and pointed out that the captain was a representative of and to his crew. Among his crew, he represented the Empire and ultimately the empire and he therefore had a responsibility to appear as immaculate as possible. At the same time, crews were often reflections of their captains, so when he appeared well turned out in public or with other officers, he sent the message to them that his crew was as disciplined and orderly as he himself was. The relationship had not achieved true balance until she saw how he acted with Coren, Eva, and Erik in private one evening. It was then that she came to a full understanding of her captain's attitude, both to work and to social interactions. It was the beginning of a solid worki
ng relationship.
"If I won't do, it's a little too late to find another captain to replace me tonight." Aaron smiled in return. "So tell me, where on earth did you find the extra braiding for the cap? While it technically should have it, almost no one does it."
"I am an expert scrounger when necessary, sir. When I need something, I acquire it."
"Well, I should get going. It wouldn't do to be late. Keep Kim from getting the ship blown up, would you?"
Lieutenant Commander Kim had drawn the short straw and would be the officer staying behind on Mission to keep an eye on her. Jenny snorted in response, remembering their first conversation.
"Of course, sir," she said as Aaron walked toward the hatch. "And Captain? Make me look good."
Smiling over his shoulder, Aaron waved and stepped out into the corridor where he found Coren waiting for him, also in dress uniform.
"Jenny mothering you again?" Coren' mischievous grin clearly communicated his opinion of Aaron's steward.
"Not so much mothering as pretending to be my older sister who raised me. She means well," Aaron responded dryly. "Eventually she will figure out that I can manage to tie my own shoes without her help."
"At least Eva isn't desperate to toss her out of the airlock any more. I was worried for a while there when she found out that Jenny wasn't going to let you into the kitchen. They were pretty close to coming to blows."
"Eva's good sense would have caught up with her soon enough. And if it hadn't, I would have just asked Gunny Kovaskovich to deal with it." The last sentence was said with a quiet humour as Aaron remembered the Gunny's imaginative way of dealing with his own problem back in the day.
"I can't believe we managed to scoop the Gunny. How on earth did that happen?"
"Last minute transfer. Were originally supposed to be getting a Sergeant-Major Slater, but the Gunny pulled seniority and said he wanted the assignment. Something about a naval officer needing a sensible marine around to talk sense to him." Here Aaron grinned at the memory. "I don't have a clue what he was talking about, but I do seem to recall a man by the same name having a rather... large impact on my own career, so I wish whichever officer he could possibly be talking about the best of luck."
By this time the two of them had reached the boat bay where the rest of Mission's officers waited for them by the shuttle. As they filed in, Darnelle pulled Aaron aside.
"You are undermining my authority with the way you are behaving around Commander Chant." Her voice was full of venom and the words came out like bullets fired from an old fashioned firearm.
"If you were doing your job, I wouldn't need to behave that way with him. I would have your support." Aaron responded calmly, managing to keep his temper under control. Over the last week it had become increasingly apparent that she had no intention of actually being the supporting officer she was supposed to be. As a result and despite their original plan, Coren had increasingly filled the void that she left. The worst part was that the crew had taken notice of this, and had begun to treat Coren as a second XO. Darnelle had become increasingly aggravated by this and by the fact the crew seemed to be won over by Aaron and Coren, not only as individuals but as a tactical partnership.
"You aren't giving me the space I need to perform my duties." Darnelle's anger made her voice rise as she spoke till she was no longer being circumspect by the end.
"Commander, if you are unhappy in this command, I will happily countersign your request for a transfer. If you don't want a transfer, then knuckle down and do the business." Aaron gestured to the shuttle. "The shuttle is waiting for us. After you."
He followed her on board and took his seat at the back as the flight tech pulled the hatch shut and sealed it. Coren looked over at him questioningly, but Aaron just shook his head. Eva watched the exchange ruefully. She knew that her friend was unhappy onboard, but none of them seemed able to figure out how to move forward. She felt caught between a rock and a hard place with no idea how to move.
The shuttle ride passed in awkward silence, no one speaking, the junior officers with no idea what was going on and why there was an issue between the Skipper and the XO unwilling to break the silence the two of them held.
"Docking with the Tongs Station. Seal is good, opening hatch," the flight tech's announcement seemed strangely loud in the echoing silence of the officers on the shuttle.
"Well people," Aaron said, speaking at last, "let's go find out just what kind of food and hospitality they have out here."
They filed out in the order they got on to the trill of the bosun's pipes.
"Mission arriving!" The boat bay officer was a young lieutenant with patches marking him as tactical track.
"Permission to come aboard?" Aaron asked after the traditional salute, extending his hand to the captain waiting for them.
"Of course Captain Hawthrone." He was dark haired dark eyed, and dark skinned with a quietly competent air about him. "My name is Captain Julian Omboti, Admiral Badim's Chief of Staff. We'll save the other introductions until we are with the Admiral. If you will all follow me?"
Aaron nodded and set off after the captain, with his officers trailing. They walked across the boat bay and to the lift, the officers at last talking amongst themselves. Eva cornered Coren and began to speak to him urgently as Erik joked with Lieutenant Russell. They passed through the station and what seemed like a dizzying maze of passages until they finally arrived at the door of a sumptuous dining room. Waiting for them within was the Admiral and the rest of her staff. Aaron stepped forward and came to attention.
"Captain Hawthrone and officers reporting, ma'am."
"At ease captain," the Admiral said as reached out to shake Aaron's hand. "I apologise for the irregularity of waiting on introductions and such, but I figured you would be tired enough after the week you must have had slotting into a new command at this late notice."
"I appreciate the thought, though I will admit, it did make me uneasy," Aaron smiled easily as he let her hand drop. "Allow me to introduce my officers. This is Commander Beth Darnelle, my XO, Commander Christopher Chant, my Tactical Officer, Surgeon Commander Evelyn Chandler, chief of medicine, Lieutenant Commander Jonas Barden, my Comms Officer, Lieutenant Commander Erik Thurgood, my JTO, and Lieutenant Zach Addington, my Assistant Engineer. And these are, for their sins, two of our midshipmen, Midshipwoman Jordan Munroe, and Midshipman Jaime Harmon."
"It's a pleasure to meet you all. I wish you all the best. Beth, it's good to see you again. Well, let's not keep these ravenous officers from the table. Let's be about cleaning those plates!"
–
After dinner, Aaron sat lounging in the sitting room adjacent to the dining room, a scotch in hand (Cutty Sark this time) relaxed for the first time that evening. Admiral Badim had been a charming host, amusing them with stories of what she had seen in her time at the Crusher and listening to stories in turn from Aaron and his officers from their service. It had turned out that Darnelle had served with the Admiral on her midshipman cruise, when Admiral Badim had been Captain Badim. They had spent part of the evening catching up and it had been interesting to see her at her ease in a way which she had not been able to since Aaron had met her. For the first time he could see the officer her file suggested she was. He looked up as the Admiral sunk into the seat opposite him. She waved him back into his seat as he started to rise.
"I have a question for you Captain. It has been bothering me all night. There is a certain tension amongst your officers. They seem uncertain around Beth. Every time she responded to one of my questions, they looked at you as though seeking confirmation that you had given her permission." Here she gave him a reassuring smile before continuing. "You don't strike me as the sort of captain to micromanage in such a way as to restrict your XO, so that leaves me wondering just why they are so wary of her."
"I'm afraid I must admit that it is partly my fault. There has been a tension between Commander Darnelle and myself from the moment we met." Despite his aversion to airing hi
s ship's dirty laundry in front of an Admiral he had met only twice before, he felt he owed her an explanation, if only because she was a friend of Commander Darnelle. "As I understand it, she was originally slated to be promoted and given command of Mission when she came active, but with the recall of so many commanding officers, her promotion was delayed. Someone with the power to make their influence felt insisted she still be deployed on Mission when she cleared for active deployment, and that at that point she was slotted in as the XO. She therefore has a legitimate right to be frustrated with her position. However, it appears to have manifested itself, at first as acting as though she were still in command, and then later, when I made it clear that I intended to exercise the authority Admiralty House and the Navy have given, as a recalcitrance in her duty. This in turn has caused me to rely more heavily than I normally would on my Tactical officer. He and I are old colleagues and friends, which in retrospect, given who my XO is, may have made him a less than ideal choice. The crew and officers, sensing and seeing this, have begun to use him as I have been using him, to fill the gaps left by Commander Darnelle."
