“I know just what you mean,” I said, remembering adventures on Heinlein. We’d been deployed in support of rapidly-mounted operations before on the planet’s surface. We’d just been lucky that there hadn’t been a second atrocity – as far as I knew. “We’ll get you there as soon as we can.”
“Oh, there’s no hurry,” Andrew assured me. He laughed, dryly. “Like you said, nothing ever happens there. We’re probably just wasting our time.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
The UNPF’s original motive for disdaining military formalities was a reaction to the military formalities used by various national military forces, before they were integrated into the UNPF or dispatched to various colony worlds. It didn’t take long for the new hierarchy to realise that it enjoyed the formalities, and even that they served a purpose. Regardless, the UNPF takes a slapdash view – at best – of the requirements and it is sad, but true, that many Ensigns leave the Academy with only a vague idea of what they are.
-Thomas Anderson. An Unbiased Look at the UNPF. Baen Historical Press, 2500.
I saw them coming through the cameras in the docking tube before they reached the Marines. There were five of them, wearing uniforms that were…slovenly, at best. I had a moment of Déjà vu – seeing them as Lieutenant Hatchet must have seen us, years ago – before they came up to the Marines and presented their papers. No wonder the Marines had smiled when they’d seen us. They'd known, and probably heard, the chewing out we’d received. We had deserved worse than we’d got.
The scene didn’t improve as they stepped through the airlock. They should have walked in one by one, in accordance with safety regulations. Instead, two of them pushed through, propelled by the other five. They stepped dead on seeing me and the others, who hadn’t seen me yet, pushed them forward. I almost expected them to fall flat on their faces – which would have been an embarrassing welcome to the starship – but they managed to keep their footing, barely. The other three saw me and stared. I’d worn my dress uniform – I’d shined it specially – and looked practically perfect in every way. They looked like they were wearing unearned uniforms, compared to me.
“Ah,” one of them said. “We’re reporting for…”
I cut him off, making a big show of reading my chronometer. “And what time,” I demanded, with another flash of Déjà vu, “do you call this?”
The spokesman stumbled, and started to recover. I didn’t give him a chance. “It is now 1307,” I said, coldly. It was my impression of Captain Shalenko and it worked. To them, it must have been thoroughly intimidating. “Your orders specifically ordered you to report onboard at 1300 precisely. Instead, you are seven minutes late. Do you have a good explanation for this?”
I allowed my eye to trail across nervous faces, some defiant, some twitching, and smiled inwardly. “Well?”
“We were…ah, admiring the ship from outside,” one of the female Ensigns said, finally. I mentally gave her points for truthfulness. We’d admired the ship too before we’d boarded, only to run right into Lieutenant Hatchet. “We didn’t mean to be late.”
“And yet you disobeyed orders,” I said, icily. I paused, as if I had just made a shocking realisation. “Why are you not at attention? Were you given leave to stand at ease?”
They straightened up. If anything, they were worse than we had been. The line wasn't straight; they weren't angling themselves on me and their uniforms…I didn’t want to think about what some of them had been doing to their uniforms. If they’d worn dress uniform, they would at least have been presentable, but really! No one in their right mind should report onboard a starship wearing standard ship-worn uniforms. They weren't really capable of making a good impression.
“Good,” I said, grudgingly. It wasn't anything like good enough and I knew it. I just hoped they knew it as well. “Sound off, by the numbers.”
There was a moment’s pause while they tried to remember who should go first. It was generally from left to right, but evidently they hadn’t bothered to practice that either. I listened as they finally gave their names and ranks, nervously eyeing me as if I were a tiger contemplating my dinner.
“Ensign Allan Barras, reporting for duty, sir!
“Ensign Yianni Gerasimos, reporting for duty, sir!”
“Ensign Evgenia Agathe, reporting for duty, sir!”
“Ensign Geoffrey Murchison, reporting for duty, sir!”
“Ensign Sandra Chang, reporting for duty, sir!”
“So you at least know how to do that,” I said, as if they had barely convinced me that they were their names. I had already read their files and matched names to faces, but I wanted them to go right back to the basics. “I am Lieutenant John Walker; First Lieutenant John Walker. I am the second-in-command of this vessel, which means that I am your supervisor during your time on this ship. If you have problems, you come to me with them. If you have questions, you ask me. I will be far less annoyed if you ask me stupid questions than if you fuck up because you didn’t understand something. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir,” they said, in unison.
“You may believe that you are now officers,” I continued. Lieutenant Hatchet had given us a similar lecture. “You may believe that you are qualified to issue orders to crewmen, regardless of their time in service. That belief is a function of your own ignorance. You are shockingly unprepared for the life of a starship crewmen and we will have to train you as hard as we can. You have two choices. You can suck up what we teach you, apply yourself and learn as quickly as possible, or you can be put off this vessel. If you want to leave, say so now and save us all a lot of trouble in the future.”
There was a pause. No one took me up on the offer. “Good,” I said. “I will expect you to work hard to learn what we have to teach you. It may interest you to know that a third of Ensigns die on their first voyage – because they didn’t know basic facts and their ignorance killed them. If you listen, you will stay alive. You might even be promoted. Fuck up and, if you’re lucky, you’ll get yourself killed. If you’re unlucky, you’ll get someone else killed with you. You start out as the lowest of the low. If you learn, you will rise.”
I allowed my eyes to linger on Ensign Allan Barras for a long moment. “Ensign,” I said, coldly. “Why are you not wearing your dress uniform?”
He stumbled under my gaze. “I was informed that wearing a dress uniform was not required,” he said, finally. “I was…”
“Nonsense,” I said, allowing my tone to drop even colder. “UNPF Regulations specifically state that all newcomers to a starship – particularly one that is their new posting – are to wear their dress uniforms. You should have checked the data download we gave you with your orders, instead of listening to advice from someone who either decided to set you up for a fall, or simply didn’t know. The only acceptable excuse for not wearing a dress uniform is coming directly from another starship on transfer. You came directly from the Academy.”
I stared at him until he lowered his eyes. “One demerit for not wearing a dress uniform,” I said. I looked from Ensign to Ensign. “That goes for all of you. One demerit each for not wearing dress uniforms. Now…Ensign, why are you not wearing your Academy pin?”
I took five minutes over his uniform and ended up handing out three additional demerits. He’d worn jewellery – not for a religious purpose, which was permitted if frowned upon – and hadn’t taken care of his shoes. I finally turned to Ensign Yianni Gerasimos and studied her carefully. I could tell, by her shuffling, that she knew what I was going to say before I said it.”
“Tell me,” I said, pointing a long finger. “What is that?”
She flushed bright red. “My…ah, breasts, sir,” she said. She’d opened the buttons of her uniform to show an impressive cleavage. I could hear two of her fellows snickering very quietly and glared them into silence. “I thought…”
I cut her off. “You are required to be demure on duty at all times,” I said, coldly. “This is not a brothel or a clubho
use for boys and girls. This is a starship and a modicum of professional appearance is required at all times.” I held her with my eyes. “Or did you think that you could flash your tits at us and we would carry you on our backs? We don’t have the time or manpower for dead weight, Ensign.”
“Hang on,” Ensign Geoffrey Murchison said, angrily. “You can’t talk to her like that?”
“And how should I talk to her?” I demanded, fixing him with a gaze that could have killed. “A crewwoman on a starship is expected to meet certain standards. A person who is unable or unwilling to meet those standards has no place on the ship and will probably get someone killed. Did you do her homework for her? Did you carry her on your back at the Academy? One demerit for speaking out of turn. A second demerit for being rude to a senior officer.”
I turned back to Yianni. What sort of name was that? “It may interest you to know, Ensign, that one of the Ensigns on my last ship was raped by a passenger,” I informed her. “I suggest that you comport yourself more demurely in the future. One demerit for being improperly dressed and a second for not taking care of your uniform.”
I went through the others, one by one. Ensign Geoffrey Murchison only earned one demerit for his appearance. He’d go far if he learned to keep his tongue under control. The Academy hadn’t been allowed to punish insolence or do anything more than issue mild rebukes, but I had other options. He was young and clearly bright, but very unformed. I saw, for a long moment, just why Lieutenant Hatchet had stayed at her post for so long. The chance to shape a young mind was intoxicating.
And, compared to them, I felt very old.
“Twenty-seven demerits between you,” I said, finally. It hadn’t been a pleasant experience for any of us. I’d had to inspect them all, carefully. They’d had to stand at attention long enough to give them cramps. “Five on average, right? That isn’t too impressive, is it? What are we going to do with you?”
I allowed my gaze to pass over them again. “You are going to develop into proper officers here,” I said, coldly. “You will work off each and every one of your demerits and the experience will teach you one thing you lack – discipline. There are ships where discipline is a joke, but this isn’t one of them. You will develop into fine officers, or we will kill you trying to turn you into fine officers. Do you understand me?”
Their expressions were oddly amusing. “Good,” I said. “Now, stand at ease.” They relaxed. “In a moment, the Captain will welcome you onboard his ship. Afterwards, we will introduce you to the First Ensign and allow you ten minutes to settle into the wardroom – I suggest that some of you use that time to change into cleaner uniforms – you’ll be washing the other uniforms yourselves, just to remind you of how much time it takes to wash them. After that…”
I allowed myself an unpleasant grin, the kind of grin that moves towards a swimmer with a fin on top. “After that, Ensigns, we will begin your proper introduction to the vessel.”
“Attention on deck,” the Senior Chief said, as he entered. “Captain on the deck!”
I stood to attention as well and saluted the Captain – perfectly – as he entered. It looked coincidental, but I knew that the Captain would have been watching through the airlock’s cameras. I saw him cast his eyes over the Ensigns – who, at least, had managed to stand to attention properly – and wince slightly at Yianni’s shirt. The way she looked, she would have had more hopes of a career as a fashion model, rather than an Ensign. I remembered Ensign Gomez and winced myself. On Earth, a girl walking about like that in one of the malls would have been an open invitation to rape. I wondered, absently, just where she’d come from originally. I’d have bet good money it wasn't from Earth.
“At ease,” the Captain said, finally. I listened as he ran through the same speech he’d given us, years ago. He hadn’t changed it in the slightest. It was odd how comforting I found that, even though the Ensigns had probably found it as intimidating, and yet inspiring, as we’d found it. I rather hoped so. They could afford to hate me – just as some of us had disliked Lieutenant Hatchet – but they couldn’t afford to hate the Captain. He was the father of the entire vessel.
“Attention,” I ordered finally, as the Captain departed the airlock. “Senior Chief?”
“Please follow me,” the Senior Chief said. Please or no please, it was an order and I was relieved to see that the Ensigns followed it unquestioningly. The Senior Chief took them on the long way around to their wardroom, showing them something of the ship’s layout – seemingly by accident. The Ensigns should have studied the unclassified diagrams of the ship that we’d provided in the data pack, but if they hadn’t…well, we were offering them a chance to learn. They stared around as they moved, trying to drink it all in. They'd learn, I decided, even if the experience wasn’t comfortable for them. I just hoped that none of them would ever end up kidnapping people for the UN.
The Ensign’s wardroom was smaller than I remembered, or perhaps it was just that I’d been getting used to a Lieutenant’s cabin. There were still the original eight bunks, one of which was occupied by Sally, who gave me an unreadable look as the Ensigns filed into the wardroom. I hoped that none of them had expected to be First Ensign, even though they all had the same graduation date; Sally would outrank them until they were promoted, which would happen unless they screwed up by the numbers. I nodded to Sally and left them to get acquainted, with a final warning that I’d see them on Deck Three in ten minutes. I was deliberately pushing them as hard as I could. How quickly could they change, make themselves presentable, and then reach Deck Three? It was just possible to do it all in ten minutes…
“Interesting lot,” the Senior Chief commented, as we walked towards Deck Three. Deck Three was generally used for storage space and sickbay. I’d introduce them to the other sections of the ship one by one. “Did you notice how badly they were dressed?”
“I handled out demerits for it,” I remarked, crossly. We hadn’t looked much better, but at least we’d worn dress uniforms. “Is there a reason for that?”
“Standards are slipping everywhere,” the Senior Chief said. I wondered if he’d heard it through the Brotherhood grapevine, or simply by keeping his ear to the ground. We’d have to talk once we were inside the wormhole and well away from Earth. Until then, there wasn’t much I could tell him. “The Academy has been trying to rush more cadets through on an emergency program – they think they’re going to have to meet much higher requirements in the next couple of years. I’m actually surprised they didn’t send us the full eight Ensigns, but maybe they’re trying to spread the newcomers out a bit.”
I frowned. “They’re speeding up the program?” I asked. I’d been at the Academy for four years and I had missed plenty that I’d needed to know. “What the hell are they going to cut out of the program?”
“Fucked if I know,” the Senior Chief said. He lowered his voice for a moment. “I bet you anything you care to put forward that they won’t have cut any of the political indoctrination.”
“Shit,” I said. I’d been taught the rudiments of using a spacesuit, operating in zero-gravity, piloting a shuttle, basic maintenance – which was really replacing a broken component with another component – and much else besides. How much had the Ensigns been allowed to skip? “We’d better get ready to test them on everything, just in case.”
I scowled. System Command had played around with our departure date again and now we were scheduled to depart in two days. I had that long to break the Ensigns in and remove, if necessary, any Ensigns who simply couldn’t adjust to life on a starship. It was quite possible that one or more of them would be far more of a liability than an assert, someone who had no idea how inexperienced they were until it was far too late. I’d have to weed them out quickly…because if we entered the wormhole, we couldn’t turn back. System Command were already bitching to the Captain because we hadn’t left earlier.
“Yes,” I agreed. “Get the dummy spacesuits and the retch gas. We may as well start with
the fun test first.”
Sally led the Ensigns in and stood to attention. I checked my chronometer openly and allowed myself a slight smile. They’d made it – barely. Hopefully, they’d have learned the unspoken lesson as well; they needed to listen to and learn from Sally. She could talk to them as an equal, while they couldn’t talk to me, or even the Senior Chief, as anything, but subordinate to superior.
“At ease,” I said, checking their appearances with a glance. They showed few signs of haste, probably thanks to Sally. “There are five spacesuits on that rack there. Put them on quickly and go right into the next room. Sally, remain here.”
The Ensigns struggled, I saw, without surprise. It wasn't easy to put a spacesuit on without assistance, even though it was something that the Academy taught everyone. Normally, they’d have help from their superiors…and that wasn’t something they’d have if they were alone. They were treating it as a race, I realised. Yianni was struggling with hers, but Allan, instead of helping her, was trying to beat her to the punch. They hadn’t realised that they needed to cooperate.
Martial Law 1: Patriotic Treason Page 25
