Tales From the War (Kinsella Universe Book 5)

by Gina Marie Wylie

  Later, Rachael and Chief Vargas stood side by side as Lieutenant Leighton read his report on the first major military and civil action of the Federation, when the Islamic Republic of Iran botched a biowar attack on the West, and instead, infected themselves first. The degree of survival of the various countries of the world had been a function of how well they'd embraced the principles of the nascent Federation.

  Not because aid was withheld -- but the requests for aid were withheld. A fifth of humanity had died in less than three months. Even now, three hundred and fifty years after the event, there were few Muslims in the Federation, few Russians and Germans and almost no French.

  That evening, Rachael and Vargas cuddled together in Rachael's bed and got to know each other much better.

  Three days later they stood up in the final mission tasking conference, the three of them together, with Rachael giving their final mission brief.

  Captain Lemain listened in silence to their presentation. They'd gone last, and as such they'd seen how little the other three plans had differed from each other. They differed, as Chief Vargas had said earlier, by caveats and addendums.

  The captain thanked everyone and said he was going to spend the evening going over the plans and announce a final decision in the morning.

  The two women talked late into the night, and instead of the passionate love making of the night before, just held each other.

  The captain convened the mission planning conference early the next morning. “I mentioned, did I not, that we have to reach deep, extra deep, to do our duty to our utmost, in order to defeat our enemies.

  “I am ashamed of the work most of you presented. We had a preliminary meeting; plans were advanced. There was a clear winner... or at least, I thought there was clear winner. I gave them ice cream, after all.”

  There were a few smiles, but it was clear their captain wasn't happy.

  “I assumed that the one unique approach would jog the other groups to renewed efforts to improve their work. Instead, they simply smoothed a few sharp edges and left things essentially unchanged.”

  He was standing and slammed his fists into the table; that seemed to be his favorite gesture of anger. “How dare you! How dare you leave inferior work alone and not improve upon it! Are you blind or insane? I have no idea. Commander Sorenson of Navigation and Communication, Commander Hsieu of sensors, Commander Lewis, my exec. Consider yourself under hack for three days, bread and water, confined to your quarters. I swear to you, that if this mission wasn't so critical and your tasks critical to that, I'd replace you the first chance I get.

  “Your work is beyond unacceptable. Perhaps, one of you could have produced work so inferior and if you were alone, I'd have given your group purple rockets in private and demand, most clearly, that you do better.

  “You had your nose rubbed in it! You sat here at this very table and listened to a plan light years better than anything you and yours came up with!

  “I'm going to be charitable and assume it was jealousy and not simple stupidity that caused you to go off the rails. Commander Ferris is indeed a civilian with less time in the Fleet than any of you have in this ship.

  “She's smarter than you; she knows her subjects better than you, and of all of you, hers is the one plan that shows significant refinement from the preliminary plans you offered up before.

  “What is it with you? Do you want to die? Do you want the Federation to be destroyed? The sort of thinking that produced this... this... drivel... isn't worthy of a Fleet officer. It wasn't the first time you presented it and I told you it was inadequate before, and it surely isn't worthy of consideration this time.

  “Over the next seventy-two hours as you sit alone in your cabins, review Commander Ferris's group's work. At the end of that time I want your analysis of your plan, vis a vis, Commander Ferris's. You had better find the reasons why I find your work so inferior, and why I find her work superior... and it would do your future in the Fleet a great deal of good to come up with some fine-tuning of Commander Ferris's plan -- it's the one we'll be using.”

  He pointed at the door. “Get out, now. All of you, except Commander Ferris and her people.”

  Everyone else filed out, without speaking. Rachael glanced at Chief Vargas who could only shrug.

  When they were alone, the captain sat down and spoke in more measured tones. “I was curious about the methodology that you used to pick which members of the sample set to survey. Imagine my surprise to find, buried in the appendices, that you actually only have picked only our first goal; the rest are still under analysis.”

  “Captain,” Lieutenant Leighton said, before the others could respond. “It looks like a simple decision, but when I started getting into the math, it's a very complex question of multi-variate analysis. It's still running on the ship's computer.”

  “That's because you are still trying to shoe horn our survey into the ship's original mission schedule. Had you asked, you would have found that I have the authority to extend that timeline by a month without reference to the originating authority of our orders.

  “And, if I report a change in schedule before we take off into the unknown, I can extend that two months. Please factor those numbers into your mission planning.”

  “Yes, sir,” Rachael responded.

  “Good. We will fine tune this as much as we can.” He grinned. “One pitfall you will want to avoid: sometimes there are equally valid choices. Now and then, you pick both; mostly you just flip a coin. Don't dither about it.”

  “Yes, sir,” Rachael replied.

  The captain nodded to Lieutenant Leighton. “You need, Lieutenant, to start hitting the books. You need to get a couple more watch-standing certificates. Soon.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now, Lieutenant, you are excused.”

  Rachael didn't let the frown she felt appear on her face.

  Sure enough, once the lieutenant was gone, the captain was blunt. Still, the direction was a surprise.

  “For years, Chief Vargas, I've been aware how much you loath your first name. I've used it, thoughtlessly at times, and other times with malice. That isn't something I should be doing; it's mean, petty and pointless. You have my personal apology and my assurance that it will never happen again.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “You don't need my permission to move in together, you know. You are no longer in each other's chain of command.”

  Chief Vargas spoke first. “We're still getting used to the idea, Captain. It's the first time for both of us.”

  “You're the sort of people who do well together; don't worry about it.”

  There was something that flashed between the captain and chief that Rachael didn't understand. They were dismissed as well, and headed for their duty stations.

  When Rachael entered the I-branch compartment, the man who'd been temporarily appointed to fill Vargas's shoes called Rachael over. “Commander, Commander Warren called a while ago and reported that she is indisposed, her word, sir, and won't be in for a couple of days.”

  Rachael eyed him carefully. “And that's all you know Chief Miles?”

  “Yes, sir, that's all she said.”

  “And no one else has seen fit to pass the word to you?”

  “No, sir.” He looked uneasy. “You have to know, sir, that I frown on ship's gossip.”

  “You need to wipe that frown from your face, Chief.”

  Rachael spoke up to everyone in the compartment. “All right, everyone, listen up. This is not a subject for debate, questions or speculation. Captain Lemain was not at all happy with the mission plans produced the the teams led by the XO, Navigation or Sensors. The three members of each of those groups are currently under hack, serving three days confined to quarters and on bread and water.”

  “But not you,” the chief said without any inflection in his voice.

  “No, not myself, Lieutenant Leighton or Chief Vargas.

  “The captain judged their work as inadequa
te. My group's work was better. I make no apologies for knowing more about survey than those others; I've been out twice. You may not believe it, but a hot topic on a survey ship is where to go on the current mission and where we should go the next mission. I've had nearly two years of experience to listening to all sorts of theories. It's an area I know.”

  “What a surprise,” one of the analysts said with a laugh.

  “Exactly.

  “We all have our duties. I'm not as familiar as I should be with what they individually are, but that's a situation that I will correct here by the end of the day.

  “One last thing. Chief Vargas and I are moving in together.”

  That left the compartment silent for a few seconds, before there was a low murmur of conversation. Rachael ignored it, going to her desk. After a half hour, she got up and went to Chief Miles and waved around the compartment. “Lets start with the junior people, and go around. You tell me what their duties are.”

  “May I have a moment to speak to the Commander in private, first?” the chief asked.

  “Of course.”

  Rachael went directly to Commander Warren's office and closed the door behind them. Chief Miles had an amused expression on his face.

  “Commander, you understand that there are things we're not supposed to talk about?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then, Commander, you should know that Commander Warren protested your presence repeatedly to the Captain. Each time she did, he'd repeat your order authority. Before we left, they made Ernie Fletcher the Deputy for Fleet Operations. He ordered you here. Commander Warren might have had a justification for protesting once, but not repeatedly.”

  “She did what she felt best for the ship,” Rachael told him.

  “Yes. What she felt best for the ship.” He emphasized the pronoun.

  “I would appreciate it, Chief, if you'd sit on any speculation along those lines. We're all in this together, no matter how disparate we seem.”

  “Aye, aye, Commander. You should know that both Master Chief Vargas and I both told Commander Warren that you needed a tour with our people, to see what they did.”

  Rachael sighed. “Chief, please. That was then and this is now. Let us deal with now, and not with what was. There are, as I've been told, a whole lot of things that Fleet used to do that have been superseded.”

  “Aye, aye, Commander.

  “If you'd come with me, Commander, I'll introduce you to our people and their duties.”

  For the rest of the morning and a good part of the afternoon, Rachael watched and listened.

  At the end, Rachael told Chief Miles, “I need to talk to the captain. You understand that my observations are professional and not personal?”

  The chief laughed harshly. “Commander, I'm at a loss to explain how you and Chief Vargas got together. She isn't noted as particularly outgoing... quite the otherwise. It will be a subject of considerable speculation.”

  “Tell people I found her cuddly.”

  The chief laughed. “No one would ever believe that, Commander. But... as you wish.”

  Rachael went up to the bridge, and found the captain, prowling around. “A word, sir?”

  “Of course, Commander. Come.” He led the way to the ready room and closed the door behind her. “Commander,” he said neutrally.

  “I cannot imagine, Captain, why you had the responsibility for sensor readings shift from Sensors to I-Branch, during combat or simulated combat.”

  “Sensors is poorly led and inadequate.”

  “Sir, I know you're not likely to want to hear my opinions, but the fact is, that it detracts from what I-Branch should be doing in an attack, and what Sensors should be doing. Not to mention, poking a huge hole in the sensor department morale.”

  “They are inadequate,” the captain repeated.

  “And, sir, they never will be adequate if you have someone else step in for them, when things go critical. Why should they have to work? You're going to replace then anyway.”

  “It's their duty.”

  “I submit, Captain, that if you always turn that duty over to I-branch, it's not their duty and they know it. At some point, sir, you have to kick the fledgling out of the nest.”

  “The sensor officer is the most inadequate of all.”

  Rachael couldn't help it. “Captain, I heard you a while ago speak to this. I heard you earlier, speak to this. I heard the President of the Federation speak to this. Sir, we have to do the best we can. If someone isn't up to it, sir, they have to go. It's a terrible thing to ruin a person's career in Fleet, Captain... but it would be worse to lose a planet, even part of a planet, because you put up with inadequate officers.”

  He stared at her, then shook his head. “I was going to say, what if you were that inadequate officer?”

  “And I would say, sir, that if I was an inadequate officer, I hope to God I'd be replaced before I caused some real damage.”

  He scrubbed his face with his hands. “Fleet has always prided itself with our low toleration for dirty-foot Portie nonsense. Yet, a Fleet officer was given a pass on things every bit as incompetent as some of the Porties. We had to stick together, after all. We're Fleet.

  “Commander, I apologize in advance. Now, please leave me to stew in my own juices.”

  “Apologize, sir?”

  “Leave, Commander. That's an order.”

  She met Chief Vargas once again for dinner in the open mess. Chief Vargas made a face when Rachael related her meeting with the captain.

  “Well, if we're lucky, he's just short-sheeted our bed. But, from the sound of it, he's done something that he would normally never let us live down.”

  “What do you mean, Vargas?”

  “I mean, he's a Rim Runner. I'm a Rim Runner. We play jokes on each other. What with one thing and another, I suspect he's done something to us, although I have no idea what. Like I said, we'll need to make sure that the sheets haven't been doubled back, before we crawl into bed.”

  “He's a Fleet Captain. I can't imagine a Fleet Captain doing something like that.”

  “You'd be surprised what Fleet Captains will do, given the opportunity.”

  He hadn't shorted their sheets. Instead, he'd added a matching bunk bed perched above it -- giving them, if you didn't count utility, twice as much bed space. They'd already had trouble because the bed was small; two small beds was no help.

  “No wonder he was apologizing,” Chief Vargas said, laughing. “This is Second Form humor.”

  “That bad, eh?” Rachael said. “What are the Fleet rules about something perpetrated against the captain?”

  “You need to be very careful... there used to be considerable latitude, but with the war and all... I'm not sure how that works now.”

  A short while later there was a knock on the compartment door, and they found a Bureau of Supply junior chief with two ratings carrying a double bed and an apology from the captain. In a few moments the bunk beds were detached and the new bed installed.

  There was cuddling, smooching and a few caresses that night, but there was a lot of growing closer as well.

  Commander Warren, after she returned, never spoke of what had happened, but it was apparent that Rachael wasn't the fair-haired woman of her high regard.

  Three weeks after they left Earth, they dropped from High Fan a light hour out from the New Cairo system. It had already been warned, but thanked them nonetheless, and Shenandoah was quickly on her way.

  While the might not have been in New Cairo long, they had stayed longer than originally planned. Instead of a brief stop, Shenandoah closed with the planet and shortly thereafter, they were back on their way, the ship buzzing with talk. The XO and Navigator and Sensor department heads had been replaced. Technically they had left by their own choice for “personal” reasons but everyone knew they'd been relieved.

  In the next ten days they stopped twice more, both times warning a planet that had already been alerted. After that, they were on High F
an for a solid month, arriving at New Phoenix, which hadn't been warned. Rachael listened to the shock and incredulity in the faces and voices of the Fleet commanders there. It probably mirrored her own expression at when she'd learned the same news, she thought. Then they were headed out towards the area they would survey, another forty days under High Fan.

  She and Chief Vargas had settled into a comfortable domesticity. Rachael was rubbing the chief's back one evening and she leaned close and kissed her friend. “I never had a compartment to myself until this voyage. I never had any trouble adjusting to whoever was my roommate, but I thought that adjusting to a lover would be much more difficult. It seems to be easier.”

  “I suspect it's like most things: it depends on who is involved. You are awfully easy to get along with. You even share who gets to be top,” Vargas replied.

  They both laughed. Their love-making had been restrained at first, but gradually they'd relaxed their inhibitions and it had steadily grown more passionate. “I love you,” Rachael said simply. “I was afraid I'd never be able to say that to anyone. But I do. I love you.”

  “And I love you too, Rache... the truth is we both needed this. Both of us. We've tried to be solitary too long and it was something that we desperately needed in our lives, even if we weren't aware of it.”

  “What are we going to do when we get back?” Rachael asked. “I've heard conflicting stories about how the Fleet treats people in relationships.”

  The chief shrugged. “It's like most things... different strokes for different folks. There are some couples that do best if they have some time between periods of togetherness. Others don't want to be separated. Ships though, for the most part, are large enough so that it's as simple to fit two new crew members into a crew as it is one new crewman.”

  “I want to be with you, period,” Rachael told her friend. Vargas responded with an ardent kiss and they once again found that there were unexpected depths of passion in their psyches that neither had expected or noticed before.

  The next day, a rather unexpected shoe dropped. Shenandoah's voice, mostly silent, spoke directly to Rachael. “Commander Ferris, the captain would like to see you now, if you're not busy.”