As cognizant as every other officer in Space Command that she'd had a stupendous six months, Gavin freely acknowledged that as a result of her efforts, the Raiders had been rocked back on their heels in this deca-sector. But he was also painfully aware that she had, until several days ago, been just an ensign who'd spent most of the past decade in stasis. Since graduation from the Academy she'd been asleep for all but fifteen months; and during three months of that short time she was alone in a life pod.
Like most officers in Space Command, Gavin had monitored the court-martial broadcasts. When he'd learned that Jenetta would be his second officer, he'd reviewed a number of the court sessions again, paying particularly close attention to her comport while she testified. Although she appeared intelligent and self-confident, he worried about her general appearance, specifically her apparent age. She might be thirty-two-years-old chronologically, and wear the bars of a Lt. Commander, but outwardly she looked like a still-wet-behind-the-ears ensign. Some ratings and noncoms might be hesitant to trust her judgment, and might refuse to take her seriously. He wondered if she had developed an officer persona strong enough to overcome their resistance and earn their respect.
Gavin had argued strenuously with Admiral Holt over having her as his first officer on this most important voyage. He'd contended that the demands of establishing a new command structure on a newly commissioned battleship called for the talents of an executive officer with decades of command experience aboard ship. If the task was handled improperly, it could take a seasoned officer months to undo the damage and restore a proper command structure. Admiral Holt had dismissed his arguments out-of-hand and told him that the decision was final, while reminding him that a seasoned first officer would be waiting for him at Earth Station Two when the ship docked.
While opposed to what he was considering as the Admiral's little experiment, Gavin was a senior officer in Space Command with over forty years of service, and knew both the futility and career risks of further argument with a flag officer. He decided to make the best of it for the short cruise and keep a very close eye on Carver. Perhaps she might foul up so badly before they even left port that he could get a last minute replacement for the trip to Earth.
"Carry on, XO," he said.
"Aye, Captain."
Jenetta braced to attention, turned on her heel, and left the captain's briefing room. She was delighted to see that they hadn't removed the furnishings. It still appeared to be the most sumptuous briefing room in the fleet; appropriate for the best ship in the fleet.
Lieutenant Kerrey intercepted Jenetta again as she crossed the bridge. The five-foot eight-inch officer with dark curly hair seemed determined to ingratiate himself. Or perhaps it was only a form of hero worship.
"Is there anything that I can help you with, Commander Carver?"
"No thank you, Lieutenant, not right now. I'm going to my quarters for a few minutes and then I'll return to begin my duties. Which quarters have I been assigned?"
"Your permanent assignment is A-03, ma'am, but since you'll be the acting first officer, you may move into A-02 until Commander LaSalle arrives aboard ship."
"A-03 will be fine. You may notify the housing officer of such."
"Yes, ma'am. Shall I show you the way?"
"That's not necessary, Lieutenant. I know my way around the Prometheus."
Lieutenant Kerrey blinked his smiling, chestnut-colored eyes twice and then said, "Of course, ma'am. I'm sorry."
"There's nothing to apologize for, Lieutenant. I'll be in my quarters."
"Yes ma'am," Lieutenant Kerrey said as he watched her walk away. It was funny, but she seemed much taller than her five-foot six-inch height.
The sentry outside the captain's quarters again stood a little straighter as she approached and passed him on the way to her assigned quarters across from and just beyond the captain's quarters. On Space Command vessels, the four senior line officers are always billeted off the corridor that leads to the bridge. Located along corridor 0, the center-line passageway on all ships, the location of the four suites makes it possible for senior officers to be on the bridge in seconds in the event of an emergency. And being close to the center axis of the ship, their accommodations are, like the bridge itself, as protected as possible. Although each of the quarters has an offical designation consistent with compartment naming conventions aboard all ships (Deck Number, Frame Number, Position relative to the centerline, and Compartment Use) the quarters of the four senior command officers are always simply referred to A-01, A-02, A-03, and A-04. She didn't need to pass the Space Marine PFC at the far end of the corridor, but he smartened his stance as she reached the entrance to her quarters.
All officers aboard ship have an office attached to their quarters, the size of which varies with rank and duties. Except for the captain, a separate entrance off the corridor is provided so that visitors need not pass through the officer's sitting room to reach his or her office. The captain normally conducts most ship business from the briefing room on the bridge, and although the office in his or her quarters is large enough for a small conference, it's mainly intended as a more private work space. Lack of a separate door to the office augments security for the ship's commanding officer.
Jenetta's new quarters had the requisite two entrances off the corridor; one into her office and one into her generous sitting room. A bedroom that had to be at least four-meters by six, sat beyond both rooms, with a large, centrally-situated bathroom that could be entered from either the sitting room or the bedroom. The office was also accessible from the sitting room. The Captain and the first officer had larger quarters, but this space was more than adequate for her needs.
After using the bathroom to wash her hands, she went into her office to call up her duty list, a prioritized compilation of notes from the captain, or requests and messages from officers and crew now under her command. As it began to scroll up in response to the spoken command, her eyes widened and she drew in her breath sharply. The length of the list far exceeded anything she'd expected. She studied it for about ten minutes before leaving to begin what promised to be exceedingly long workday.
Normally, crews for newly constructed ships assemble at the Mars ship building facility. There they receive fundamental training about the new vessel before assuming their duties. The ship remains at Mars until the new command is basically coordinated and functioning efficiently, and then conducts its space trials. Once all major and most minor problems are resolved, the ship is dispatched on a final shakedown cruise to its home port, where it will begin regular patrol operations. But having been recently recovered in space, months from Mars, made that impossible aboard the Prometheus and Chiron. Most members of their new crews were being assembled on Earth and would join the ships when they arrived there.
Space Command battleships represent just five percent of the warship fleet. They perform all the functions that an aircraft carrier, battleship, and small troop transport traditionally performed in one of Earth's navies. Crews large enough to handle most situations until the two ships could reach Earth were being assembled either by promotion or transfer from the other ships docked at Higgins, or from those GSC warships expected into port before the Prometheus and Chiron were scheduled to leave. Being the two largest and newest warships in the fleet, it was a special honor to be named as a member of their crews. The paucity of available experienced personnel at Higgins meant that individuals, who might otherwise not have been selected for the crew, were being handed their dream. The less than five hundred crewmembers aboard each ship for the trip would be a far cry from the ship's normal complement of three-thousand five-hundred.
Returning to the bridge of the almost two-kilometer-long ship, Jenetta took a few minutes to talk with each of the crewmembers there. When she was done, she at least knew their name, rank, current job assignment, and previous posting. She would learn the rest later as she studied the personnel files in the computer.
Jenetta spent the remainder of the day p
reparing the ship for its journey to Earth. She worked with the officers in each section to ensure that all necessary supplies were on board and stowed properly, that all equipment was functioning properly, and that crewmember duty schedules were coordinated so that all primary ship functions would be covered every minute of every day. From the moment that she began work, Jenetta became the person that every officer turned to with a problem, and she didn't call it a day until the second watch ended at midnight. As she went off duty, Jenetta left orders that she wasn't to be disturbed until 0800 unless it was an emergency, and that problems were not to be taken to the Captain.
A quick stop at the officer's mess before proceeding to her quarters netted her a fresh chef's salad and an orange. She ate the salad in her quarters, but was so exhausted that sleep won out over hunger and she never got to the orange. She climbed onto the bed still dressed and was asleep almost immediately.
* * *
Up and showered by 0700 the following morning, Jenetta dressed and spent ten minutes stowing the things that had been delivered to the ship from her room at the Bachelor Office Quarters. As always, the animated picture of her family, taken at the Academy on the day that her eldest brother graduated, went immediately onto her dresser. In the image that morphed to the beginning every thirty-seconds, Jenetta and her mother were the only ones not in uniform. Although her brothers were all cadets at the Academy, Jenetta had still been in high school at the time. Her father, a captain in Space Command, had recently turned over command of his destroyer and was preparing to take command of the Cromwell, GSC-F839, a new frigate nearing completion at the Mars shipyard. For the picture, Quinton Carver and his wife Annette sat on a stone bench in a small park-like setting on the Academy grounds, with their children arrayed behind them. The four boys stood together, with their arms on each other's back, while the bushes behind them swayed ever so gently from a slight breeze. Jenetta had been shuffled off to the right of the image. Because of her clothing and detached position, it almost appeared as if she wasn't a part of the group. Halfway through the image playback, Richie raised his enormous left hand and placed it on her small shoulder, finally making it seem like she might be a part of the family after all.
The animated picture of Zane Spence and herself, taken recently at Gregory's, went next to the family portrait on her dresser.
Still making it to the officer's mess by 0745, she had time for a quick bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee before the start of the first watch at 0800. She took several pieces of fruit to eat while she worked, hoping that they would quell the hunger pangs she was already feeling as she returned to her office.
If she'd had any hopes that the new day might be easier, they were dashed as her duty list scrolled up on the computer. It appeared that every officer aboard ship had left several new messages since she'd gone off duty late last evening.
Jenetta intuitively knew of the difficulties involved in an entirely new command structure, where routines and procedures have yet to be established. Subordinates will feel their way along uncertainly as they try to learn what's expected of them and what authority they have to make decisions. Until they know, they tend to be too quick to pass on problems to their senior officer. It's doubly difficult where both supervising officer and subordinates haven't previously been posted together. The situation represents a potential logistical nightmare for an executive officer in a new command.
She knew that her main job now was to make each officer understand what she expected of him or her, or she would be plagued with minor problems all the way to Earth. Instead of handling every problem that came her way on the second day, she passed many of them back to the originating officer and told him or her to resolve it and inform her of their solution.
* * *
Chief Petty Officer Filip ‘Flip' Byrne entered the crowded quarters of CPO Edward Lindsey and dropped his six-foot two-inch frame tiredly into the only unoccupied chair of the five arranged around the table.
"You're late," CPO Lindsey said.
"Yeah, tell me about it," Flip said with disgust.
"The watch ended an hour ago."
"Just deal me in and don't give me any crap, Eddie." Flip sighed loudly. "We had to completely empty and reload cargo hold C-24. We just finished. The LT said that it would be done before we quit for the day, if we had to work until third watch."
Holding his hand up to cover his eyes in pretense of a seer having an omnipotent vision, the stocky five-foot seven-inch CPO Lindsey said in an eerie voice, "I see the hand of our child XO in this."
"I told you not to call her that!" CPO Byrne said angrily. "She graduated from NHSA in ‘56, so she's only ten years younger than you." Calming, he added, "But you're right about her being involved. She came down to inspect C-24 just after we finished stacking and securing everything. One of the new knuckleheaded loader operators in my group put food synthesizer chemicals in the storage locker where the emergency medical stores are supposed to be stockpiled. Another knucklehead, unable to store the medical stuff properly, just dumped it in the common area. Then stuff got piled on top of it and it was buried. The XO spotted the screwup right off. When she asked where the medical stores were, the Lieutenant couldn't answer. I expected her to cut into him like a plasma torch through aluminum, but all she did was make a sad comment about how she'd hate to be waiting for medical treatment in sickbay while they searched the entire hold for the supplies needed to treat her injuries. Then she got this sort of strange expression on her face as she looked at him. It was like the look my mother would always give me when I'd done something that really disappointed her. I hated that look. It made me feel about two centimeters tall. I always wished she would just smack me upside my head instead. I really felt for the LT. Anyway, after she left, he ripped into us for making him look bad in front of the XO. He swore that if anything like that ever happened again, we'd all regret the day we were posted to the Prometheus."
"So you got chewed out and wound up with extra duty because of the XO; the officer that you keep defending."
"Hey, she was absolutely right, Eddie. How'd you like to be waiting for medical treatment while they hunted through an entire hold looking for the supplies they needed to treat you? The extra duty was because of the two knuckleheads, and I'll make damn sure they pull so many extra details for screwing up that they never do it again. I know you don't care for the XO, but she's first-rate in my book."
"It isn't that I don't like her, Flip, it's just that I don't subscribe to all the hero worship she receives. In spite of what some people think, Jenetta Carver doesn't walk on water."
"We were both on the Thor during her court-martial, and I remember you always making a point of being in the vid theatre or near a monitor when the live broadcasts were on. I also remember you cheering like a madman when the verdict of not guilty was announced."
"So, I don't like to see anyone being dumped on unfairly by the brass, even officers. She done good by destroying that Raider base."
"And by recovering these two battleships?"
"And by recovering these two battleships," Lindsey admitted.
"And in saving all those people that the Raiders intended as slaves?"
"And in saving all those people that the Raiders intended as slaves," Lindsey admitted also.
"But?" CPO Byrne asked.
"But— I still don't think that entitles her to become the XO onboard the Prometheus. She's far too young and inexperienced."
"She's not the XO, Eddie. She's only acting as XO until we reach Earth."
"Acting or not, she's the XO. Our lives are in her hands; her very young hands."
"What about the Captain. Gavin's one of the most respected officers in the fleet?"
"He's the only reason I haven't requested a transfer back off this ship."
"Are you serious? You'd give up one of the choicest postings in the fleet because a young officer is occupying a temporary position?"
"Only if she'd been made captain, temporarily. There's
no way I'd serve under a captain that looks like she's fresh out of the academy. There's just something— unnatural— about it."
"Since the minute she arrived you've been searching for something to hold against her. Name one mistake she's made as XO; just one."
"That's not the point."
"That's exactly the point, Eddie. You're upset because she's doing the job as good as anyone with thirty years experience." Glancing around at the faces of the other three chief petty officers, all of whom had been sitting quietly but listening intently to the conversation, Byrne said, "Oh hell, just deal the damn cards will you, Eddie?"
* * *
By the end of the week, Jenetta's workload had been pared by ninety percent and normal shipboard routines had begun to develop. Most of the expected crew had reported aboard as other ships arrived at the spaceport. Gavin summoned Jenetta to his briefing room a little after 1100 hours.
"Stand easy, Commander," Gavin said as she entered and braced to attention. "How are the preparations for departure proceeding?"
"Very well, Captain. Armament is complete and victualing is nearly complete. The ship will be ready on time, but I'm not sure if all crewmembers will be aboard. A few haven't yet checked in because their ships haven't reached Higgins."
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