Tales From the War (Kinsella Universe Book 5)

by Gina Marie Wylie

  On the survey missions -- the first she'd been a junior scientist and had worked under the supervision of someone more senior. She and her boss had worked well together and while their research goals hadn't even been similar, they could and did combine a great deal of the data accumulation so that they could both use the derived data sets. The second mission she'd been on her own, for the most part, although she still coordinated with the rest of the geology department to make sure work wasn't duplicated. She had supervised no one but herself.

  The same thing at Sat News. She'd been a munchkin, no more. True, she'd brought in a lot of revenue, but she was as aware as anyone about the fickle nature of how that worked. But again, “supervision of employees” hadn't figured into her job description.

  Now it did. She checked with Shenandoah's computer and started reading up on what the basics were of what she should be doing.

  Finally, she went to the bridge; a place she'd only visited once before on a starship -- a quickie tour where they'd stood near the entrance and had been told, “This is the bridge. The working heart of a starship.” Two minutes later they were headed elsewhere.

  She tried not to rubberneck, and thought she did relatively well. It would have been better, though, if she hadn't had to ask someone where she was supposed to go.

  There was a little small talk among the officers present, before Master Chief Vargas came in, the only enlisted person in the compartment. Rachael was introduced to those present and she tried to remember the names; fortunately there were only four of them to remember.

  She'd brought the can that held her poker money. It came in for considerable scrutiny. When Chief Vargas was seated, the captain smiled benignly. “That's an unusual can, Commander Ferris.”

  “It was my father's, sir. Sir, could I trouble you to tell me the rules?”

  The captain laughed. “Surely, Commander, you aren't trying to hustle your own captain and your fellow crew members?”

  “No, sir. My father taught me to play poker when I was five or six. One thing he taught me that I've never had any trouble remembering: before you play with people you don't know, make sure you know their rules.”

  The captain inclined his head. “That is good advice, Commander, I apologize for misunderstanding. Nickel, dime, quarter. A quarter is the max raise, with a three raise limit. Twenty dollar table limit.” He then waved at the can. “I'd be pleased, Commander, if I knew more about that can.”

  “Captain, a distant ancestor was very fond of poker, but his wife limited him to what would fit in this can... winnings or losing. If the can was more than two thirds full, he had to cash it in. If it was empty... he had to promise to quit for a year.”

  “What is 'Similac?'” the chief engineer asked.

  “Sir, it was an ancient baby formula. She wanted her husband never to forget the difference between recreation and necessity.”

  “I think I like her,” the captain said.

  “Yes, sir. Later, so the story goes, she insisted he take it with ten dollars in it, when he went out on Ad Astra's first voyage with Kinsella. She wanted to remind him what he was leaving behind.”

  The captain whistled. “That can went with Kinsella's first deployment?”

  “Yes, sir. The first, second and fifth time.” She met the captain's eyes. “He broke his promise, sir. He was a Marine, and on that last voyage he went down with his best friend to the planet; that was the plague planet. He never came back, but Kinsella returned the can to his wife.”

  The captain's breath hissed. “I know the story, then. This is the first time I heard this detail, though.”

  “If you would, Captain, see that if I don't make it home and you do, that the can is returned to my mother.”

  “My honor, Commander Ferris. My very great honor!”

  The youngest person at the table, an earnest-appearing junior lieutenant, cleared his throat. “Captain, I don't understand.”

  The captain smiled benignly. “Rim Runners, Lieutenant Leighton, know that dirty-feet come in two varieties -- stupid or ignorant to a degree. Ship's captains, Lieutenant, have long known how to cure ignorance. You will research Kinsella's fifth mission, familiarize yourself with the parameters and decisions that she took. This time tomorrow, I require that you and Commander Ferris be present on the bridge as you present your report.”

  He grinned mischievously. “Bring your best speaking voice, Lieutenant. You'll be giving that report to the entire ship.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.”

  “Now, poker!”

  They played for a two hours. They were offered beer or wine, and when the others had some, Rachael had a glass of some very cold Rhine wine.

  She was mildly surprised to find the Lieutenant Leighton was a poker sharpshooter; he was very tough to beat. Not that any of the others present were slouches.

  Then the man in a red shipsuit, the one who'd given Rachael her exam and surgery appeared and asked to speak to the captain.

  The two went outside for a moment, and then the medical doctor returned by himself. “Captain Lemain has requested that you adjourn until next time; he has some duties to perform. Commander Ferris, Master Chief Vargas, if you would, please remain.”

  The others gathered their things, cleaning up after themselves, and left. The ship's doctor was still present. “Commander Ferris, Captain Lemain asks for your patience. He's called Commander Warren. He will return as soon as possible.”

  He nodded to them and left himself. Rachael saw Chief Vargas lean forward, resting her head on her hands. She doubted if the woman was even slightly tired. Still, she looked like she was crying.

  A moment later Commander Warren came in, and without a word took a seat at the table. Chief Vargas sat up, composed herself and said nothing.

  Rachael looked at the two. “Earlier, Master Chief, the subject of dirty-foot ignorance came up. There was mention of a cure.”

  “Aye, Commander.” She glanced at Commander Warren and got a minute nod of her head.

  “Commander, one of the safeguards built into the ship's computer is that unless you have a specific need to know something, it will only volunteer information if asked a direct question.

  “Thus, Commander Warren was informed by the captain, as she needed to know. I was informed because I asked.” Her smile was wintery sad. “You haven't the practice with the computer yet. After a while, you'll start asking some really dumb questions -- we all do at first -- and finally you come to understand how to deal with it. One, maybe two weeks.”

  “Shenandoah?” Rachael asked. “Obviously I have to ask what's happened?”

  “I am still reviewing the data, Commander. However, after her evening meal, Master Chief O’don’ya retired to her quarters. She was having symptoms of menopause; in particular, insomnia, and the ship's doctor had prescribed some mild sedatives to help her sleep.

  “I had less than thirty seconds to react; she ignored me. She saw the dresser where the pills were, made an decision on something that I hadn't even been aware she was contemplating, walked over and took all of the pills. I immediately alerted the medical staff, but she was dead before they arrived. This is not supposed to be possible; as I said, I'm reviewing the data.”

  “She was like my second mother,” Chief Vargas said, her voice sad. “Her husband, daughter, son-in-law, and three grandchildren were on Gandalf.”

  The captain came in the compartment and stood contemplating them. He finally turned to Commander Warren. “There are, Commander, three master chiefs aboard Shenandoah. Master Chief Kirasawa in engineering, Chief Farelli in sensors and Chief Vargas.

  “I promoted Farelli to master chief during our initial deployment to fill Chief Vargas' slot. He is not up to another bump. Chief Kirasawa is a good man, but he's a technician at heart.”

  “And I have been augmented by a deputy,” Commander Warren replied.

  Rachael was startled. The captain was going to make Chief Vargas Chief of the Ship! Usually the job went to someone much old
er -- the chief of the ship was usually considered everyone's father or mother. Normally someone like Vargas would never be considered.

  “I realize that this is on short acquaintance, Commander Warren, but I do believe that Commander Ferris is fully capable of her additional duties.”

  “I agree, Captain. I do however, have one request.”

  “Almost anything.”

  “Commander Ferris and Chief Vargas have proven they work very well together on the mission planning task. I believe that Chief Vargas should be continued in that mission.”

  “Agreed!” He looked piercing at his intelligence officer. “You are otherwise okay with this?”

  “Okay? Yes. Pleased? No. This is for the ship, Captain, and I'll deal with the hand I'm dealt.”

  “Thank you, Commander.” He turned to the Master Chief.

  “I am concerned that Chief O'don'ya won't be the only one. Shenandoah is going to be more proactive, but I'd rather we did something to defuse any further attempts.

  “A lot of us, not just the Chief of the Ship, have lost family and friends. There is every indication that the situation is going to get far worse before there is any improvement. Any ideas you have, Vargas, I'll appreciate. I'd appreciate any suggestions from anyone that will help make this less likely in the future.”

  He waved forward. “We're going into the area where it is possible we are going to try to warn a system that has already been destroyed. You've seen what they do; this is something that my crew can't dodge or shirk: this is what our enemies do. It is our job to stop that. If not for our own families, then for the families and loved ones of others. Opting out, taking a lifetime of knowledge and experience away from the Fleet at this point in time is simply not acceptable. Still, it's not like I can court-martial someone who kills themselves -- or even if they simply make the attempt. We need everyone! Everyone!” His fist slapped into his palm.

  “Do your duty!” He waved at the door and the three left him standing at the head of the table where they'd not so long ago been playing poker.

  It took a bit before Rachael realized that Chief Vargas was still walking next to her. She glanced at the other woman who looked back at her. “Commander, I have a favor to ask.”

  “Ask away, Chief.”

  “Can we wait until we reach your compartment?”

  Rachael shrugged. “No problem, Chief.”

  It wasn't far. She let Vargas inside and the master chief turned to face Rachael.

  “The chief was, like I said, like my second mother. In truth, I liked her more than I ever did my real mother. I am... bereft, Commander.”

  “I'm still having trouble adjusting to the deaths of so many people I don't know. I can't imagine what it would be like if it was someone I knew and cared about,” Rachael replied.

  Chief Vargas waved at the can in Rachael's hand. “Commander, I know the story behind that. Like my uncle, I hadn't heard about this in particular, but it doesn't surprise me. I know who your ancestor was, I know who his best friend was and I know who that friend was married to. I think you maybe understand as well as anyone.”

  Rachael shrugged. “My father taught me at an early age that there is no functional difference between a heroic death and just plain dying. At the time I disagreed; it was something I was proud of.

  “Later, I realized I had no right to be proud. What, after all, had I done? Nothing to measure up to that standard! I have no more desire than ever to die. But like everyone else with a brain, I realize that either I put my shoulder to the wheel or all that bravery that predeceased us would have been wasted.”

  Chief Vargas laughed harshly and bitterly. “Predeceased? That's good! Commander, tomorrow the captain will announce that I'm Chief of the Ship. Instantly I'll gain a whole lot of sons and daughters, more than I'd ever imagined having. Just now, Commander, I can't.”

  She gestured at Rachel's bunk. “What I'd like, Rachael, is to climb in your bunk and have you come snuggle in behind me and wrap your arms around me tightly, and hold me like that all night long.”

  Rachael blinked in surprise. “Vargas, it's not something I'm proud of, but my life has revolved around what I want to do with it. Everything I've ever done, since I was ten years old, has been aimed at my wildest aspiration. I've never been with anyone. Ever.”

  “Rachael, that's more reason that not to crawl in behind me. Today, legally, since I doubt if the captain has logged the order yet, you're still in my chain of command. Cuddling isn't a problem, though. You'd be amazed how many times Elaine cuddled with me. And how many times she cuddled with others.

  “Tomorrow, I'll be up early and out of here.” She reached out and put her hands lightly on Rachael's shoulders. “Tomorrow night, though -- you won't be in my chain of command. Rachael, if you'll have me, I'll be back. And we can get to know each other a lot better.”

  “Why me?” Rachael asked, the only thing that was in her brain.

  “Why? Why, the first time you talked to Commander Warren, you sassed her... you made her take it back. She's mostly a good officer, but she lets her first impression of someone control her thoughts. That's just wrong. Yet even though I knew she was making a mistake disparaging you I said nothing. When she was right, you were willing to take your lumps -- the rest of the time you stood up to her.

  “You have good ideas; very good ideas. You see things more clearly than anyone I've ever met. You take diverse data, synthesize it, and come up with abstractions that no one else can. You are going to go far, Rachael.

  “And, if the truth be known, I was hoping to end this cruise with a recommendation from the captain that I be made Chief of the Ship on another ship. War is hell and all of that. I was ready; it's what I've always wanted. I didn't want it like this; I never wanted it like this.”

  “War is hell,” Rachael said roughly. “Of course, that means emotions and events work on shortened time scales. Vargas, get in the bed!”

  A few minutes later Rachael leaned close, her arms tightly around Vargas, and kissed her on the neck. Then she had to laugh. The chief was already asleep.

  In the morning the chief somehow managed to leave without waking Rachael. She'd always accounted herself a light sleeper, but evidently that wasn't something you could judge on your own.

  The ship was greatly saddened at the death of Chief O'don'ya; that said, the captain made an impassioned speech about duty and honor and the Federation. When they were supposed to meet about their study group, Chief Vargas had Lieutenant Leighton in tow.

  “Commander, I'd like to include the Lieutenant Leighton in our study group.”

  “I'm open to suggestions, Master Chief,” Rachael said formally.

  “You'll note that the lieutenant is wearing a line officer shipsuit.”

  “I did notice that.” Rachael was wearing one as well; it really hadn't impinged on her yet.

  “You and I have the I-branch compass and rose pin. What pin is Lieutenant Leighton wearing?”

  Rachael mentally kicked herself. On the survey ships, the scientists had all worn light brown shipsuits, with patches on their left shirt pockets, showing what their specialty was. She wasn't used to, at least not yet, to glance at a shipsuit and know specifically what each person did.

  Of course, Lieutenant Leighton was no help; he didn't have a specialty pin.

  “Junior lieutenants of the line don't have specialties, unless they had one before,” Chief Vargas explained. “Think of him as a blank slate.”

  “A blank slate with a task assigned by the captain,” Rachael observed to Lieutenant Leighton. “I hope you don't think the captain has forgotten?”

  “No, Commander. All my life I've wanted to be where I am now. I thought I'd studied everything I could possibly need to know. Instead, I keep finding things I'm ignorant of -- yet they make a huge difference out on the Rim. I even rehearsed my report before I went to sleep last night.”

  “And Chief Vargas thinks you can help out, how?”

  “She said that you
haven't committed to your final report yet. She showed it to me; statistics is kind of a hobby, Commander. I did a bunch of Monte Carlo simulations of search patterns in the Federation as it exists today. I think we can skip a lot of the systems that you have, and considerably extend our search range -- without sacrificing much accuracy.”

  “You understand, Lieutenant, that there are all sorts of variables you'd have to account for. It's one thing to take a known astrography and plot search curves and get good results. What if your curves just touched an alien grouping? One point of possible contact? Searching one in four or one in five systems, would mean you'd likely miss it.”

  “Yes, Commander. However, by taking a grouping of stars as a whole, not looking at individuals, it would be possible to apply statistical analysis so that you would almost certainly find at least one inhabited system, where if you were looking at systems as individuals, you might miss inhabited systems.”

  “And what criteria would you apply?” Rachael asked.

  “Well, systems with planets in the habitable zone. We should be detect any significant occupation.

  “They are almost certainly alien. Suppose their idea of a habitable zone is different from ours?”

  “Commander, there are only four primary choices for planets -- hot rocks, water rocks, cold gas giants and cold rocks.”

  “And hot gas giants?”

  “Commander, the only way you get hot gas giants is in a system where there is considerable momentum transfer between the dust disk and the gas giant. I don't see as how you could hold a civilization together, much less develop one, with class nine and ten impacts every couple of hundred years.”

  Rachael nodded. “I think you'll do, Lieutenant. You realize that this is extra duty?”

  He laughed. “If I don't do extra duty, I'd sit in my compartment contemplating the conduct of the war and worrying myself sick. Thanks, but no thinks.”

  An hour later Rachael's basic plan was significantly better, and they were looking for ways to modestly extend the mission time line, but at the same time survey even more territory.