"No," she agreed. "It's just soooo boring." Denaldo pointed to the maneuvering display, where the symbols representing the other ships seemed to hang unchanging against the immense emptiness of space. "We're going somewhere fast but you wouldn't know it. It's still six hours until we maneuver for the rendezvous with the furriners. Until then, we just bore a hole in nothing on our way there. Nobody and nothing else is near us."
Paul nodded, scanning the displays. Watches tended to be either way too dull or way too exciting. Once they joined up with the foreign ships, they'd probably all be exciting for a while, but they had a lot of space to cover before then. "Who's this on a slightly converging track with us?"
Kris pointed to the symbol. "The Mahan 's out here, too. Heading for the same general area."
"What?" Paul stared at the symbol. "They're adding in another ship? This late in the game? I haven't seen-"
"Relax, relax. We got briefed on it during our watch. The Mahan got tapped as an observer ship."
"What's the Mahan going to see that anyone watching from Earth's surface couldn't?"
"Nothing. But they loaded some VIPs onboard her. American and foreign. They get to 'be here' during the exercise."
"Whoopee." Paul settled into the chair, adjusting the straps to suit his larger body.
Kris Denaldo gave him a curious look. "Why's the Mahan got you spooked?"
"I'm not spooked."
"You're not happy."
"You know who the captain of the Mahan is!"
She frowned, then her expression cleared. "Oh, yeah. Jen's dad."
Jen's dad. Captain Kay Shen. A man who'd made it clear that he didn't think Paul measured up to what his daughter deserved, and who'd warned that he'd be watching Paul. And now here he is, literally watching my ship. Oh, joy.
Denaldo smiled at Paul's expression. "Captain Shen's not that bad, is he?"
Paul stared at her with exaggerated disbelief. "Do you know those illustrations for science fiction stuff where some big, dark character is looming over and menacing an entire galaxy? That's how I think of Jen's father. He's out there, always watching."
Kris laughed. "Paul, I met him once. He seemed okay."
"You weren't dating his daughter."
"That's true. Jen and I don't swing that way." Kris paused as if thinking. "Still, Jen is awful cute."
"And she's mine. Just in case you're not joking."
" Yours? Jen's like a cat, Paul, just in case you haven't figured that out, yet. She might choose to hang around with you, but you'll never own her."
Yeah. Which is one of the things I like about her. But it leaves me to worry that someday she'll find some other tomcat that she likes better than me. Not that I have to worry about her father liking that other tomcat better than he does me. I think. "Point taken. Still, Captain Kay Shen is one very hard-assed individual. And I know he's keeping as close an eye as he can on everything I do."
"I thought Commander Herdez was keeping an eye on you to see if you were maintaining her standards."
"She is. Both of them are."
"Ugh. Better you than me." Denaldo ran down the rest of the information Paul needed to know. The turnover briefing didn't take too long, since Paul was familiar with upcoming events and because in this large area of space labeled "local" he and the other officers on the ship had become familiar with space traffic patterns, objects in fixed orbits and navigational aides. "Any questions?"
"Nah." Paul rendered a casual salute to her. "I got it."
She returned the salute, part of the formal ritual the watch followed. "I stand relieved." Raising her voice, Denaldo called out, "This is Lieutenant Denaldo. Lieutenant Sinclair has the conn."
"This is Lieutenant Sinclair. I have the conn." Paul listened as the other watch standers acknowledged the transfer of responsibility.
Lieutenant Sindh had been his more senior watch standing partner as officer of the deck for some months now. He'd regret losing her steady presence on the bridge, too. They passed the hours of the watch playing Foreign Navy Jeopardy, which could be entertaining enough to dissipate boredom while also professional enough not to get them in trouble if a more senior officer overheard them.
Paul was saying, "I'll take Russian Federation minor combatants for four hundred," when their reliefs arrived. Sam Yarrow gave Paul an annoyed look, ignoring Ensign Abacha who'd come onto the bridge right behind him. Poor Jack Abacha. Standing under-instruction watches with Sam Yarrow. I wouldn't want to be in his shoes. After turning over with Yarrow, Paul took a moment to talk quietly to Abacha. "Don't worry. Just hang loose and keep your eyes and ears open. You've got Sam Yarrow here, you've got a good officer of the deck watching both you, and the enlisted are watching all the officers. Nobody'll let you mess up too bad."
Abacha nodded with the rapid head jerks that betrayed nervousness. "I don't want to mess up at all."
"Of course not. But you will. That's what being an ensign is about. It won't be the end of the world as long as you learn from your mistakes."
"Thanks."
"Any questions?"
"Uh…" Abacha looked around. "Just one thing that's kinda driving me crazy."
"What's that?"
"You went to the Naval Academy, too, so you'll understand. This ship's name is the Michaelson and her sister ships have names like Mahan and Maury. Just like the academic buildings at the Academy. So why is Michaelson spelled with an 'a'? The guy who first measured the speed of light was named Michelson. No 'a.'"
Paul grinned. "I wondered that, too. The Mike's not named after the scientist Michelson. She's named after Admiral 'Genghis' Conner Michaelson, the father of the Space Navy."
"Oh. That makes sense, but it still doesn't fit with the names of the rest of the ships in the class."
"Yeah. Rumor has it the Merry Mike was supposed to be named after the scientist, but the spelling error was discovered after the Michaelson name had been widely publicized, so since they couldn't change the name at that point without admitting they'd screwed up, they just changed the guy the ship was being named after. But that might just be a good rumor."
"Oh, okay." Jack Abacha grinned. "We meant to do it that way, right?"
"Right. Remember you've got some maneuvering in about two hours. Watch and learn."
"Yes, sir."
"And make sure you're tied down tightly to something before the maneuvering begins."
"Yes, sir!"
Paul spent the actual rendezvous inside Combat again, watching as the American and foreign ships fired thrusters and drives to bring themselves into a rough grouping. Tomorrow morning, the game of forming geometric shapes would begin. Paul opened the distance on his display, frowning as he spotted one large object heading in the general direction of the group. "Anybody know who this is?"
One of the watchstanders answered up. "SASAL combatant, Mr. Sinclair. The system IDs him as the Tamerlane."
"Thanks." Paul called up information on the Tamerlane from the combat systems database. The ship seemed roughly equivalent to the Michaelson in terms of size and armament. He checked the contact again. The South Asian Alliance ship wasn't using any methods to avoid detection, and proceeding at a leisurely pace through a neutral transit lane. No big deal, then. They'll be plenty near enough to see us playing ring-around-the-rosie with the other ships, though, so I guess that's a good thing.
Paul reached for the intercom to call the bridge, then hesitated. Should I bother them with this? That SASAL ship won't come anywhere near us on his present heading, and the bridge already has plenty to worry about. Maybe -
The bosun's pipe shrilled over the announcing system. "Lieutenant Junior Grade Sinclair, contact the bridge."
Uh oh. He finally tapped the intercom switch. "This is Lieutenant Sinclair."
Instead of the officer of the deck, he heard the voice of Captain Hayes replying. "Mr. Sinclair, why weren't I and the bridge watch informed there was a SASAL warship in the vicinity?"
Crap. Five more lousy seconds
and I could've made the call to the bridge before I got called. Crap, crap, crap. "Sir, the Combat watch and I were evaluating-"
"I don't want to find out by accident again that there's something like a SASAL warship nearby, Mr. Sinclair!"
Paul took a moment to be grateful he wasn't being chewed out face to face. Not that I should be happy about that, because it means the Captain's so ticked off he's ripping me up in public. What now? Say that SASAL ship isn't really "nearby"? Try to explain again that I was just about to call the bridge? He doesn't want an explanation. I screwed up. Just get it over with. "Yes, sir. It won't happen again, sir."
"It'd better not." The click of the communications circuit cutting off sounded unnaturally loud to Paul.
He leaned back from his console and took a deep breath. His own Combat watch standers were concentrating on their displays, trying to pretend they hadn't heard or noticed anything. Paul took another slow breath to ensure his voice was under control. "Who's monitoring the long range situation?"
Petty Officer Third Class Divalo raised his hand. "Me, sir."
"I should've been notified about that SASAL ship, Divalo."
"Yes, sir. I, uh…"
"That's in the standing watch instructions, right?"
"Yes, sir."
Paul felt anger flooding him and fought it down. Don't scream at him. Divalo's a pretty good sailor. He just screwed up this time. And I'm responsible when he does. He glanced over at where Divalo was hunched in front of his display, his face grim. He's unhappy already. Make sure he remembers the lesson and not me screaming at him. "Next time keep me informed, Petty Officer Divalo. When in doubt, let me know. That way neither one of us will get chewed out."
"Yes, sir. I will, sir. I'm sorry, sir."
"Let's just make sure we don't surprise the captain again. He doesn't like that."
Divalo smiled nervously at the understatement. "No, sir. Don't worry, sir."
"I won't." The hell I won't. But Divalo's not a habitual screw-up. He deserves a second chance. "I want you to work up some possible positions for that SASAL ship at the time the exercise is scheduled to begin. I especially want to know how close he could be if he headed directly this way at speed. I also want to know how far away he'll be if he continues along that transit lane. Then give me a picture of the area of space he could be in if he does something in between those two extremes. Understand?"
Divalo nodded several times, his face intent with concentration. "Aye, aye, sir. I'll have it to you real quick, Mr. Sinclair."
"Run it by Chief Imari first so she'll know what's going on, too." I'm glad I thought of that. Hey, I could've failed to inform the chain of command above and below me at the same time. "Make sure it looks clean because we'll be forwarding the picture to the captain."
"Aye, aye, sir."
Paul unstrapped and pulled himself out of Combat. Halfway to the wardroom, he passed Randy Diego. "Paul? Commander Garcia's looking for you."
"Did he say what about?"
"No. But he didn't look happy."
Wonderful. Now Garcia probably wants to chew me out for not telling him or the captain about the SASAL ship. Might as well get it over with. "Thanks, Randy." Paul went looking for Garcia.
***
"So," Lieutenant Sindh murmured, "how's your butt this morning?"
"Tender," Paul muttered back as he settled into the junior officer of the deck's chair and tugged at the straps. "After Garcia finished ripping into me he passed me off to the XO so Kwan could take some bites out of me. At least Hayes seems in a better mood today."
"That's because you warned him last night this might happen." Sindh indicated the maneuvering display, where the SASAL warship loomed far closer than it should've been if it had stayed inside the traffic lane. "I guess the South Asians want a real close look at our show."
"Yeah. I checked out the Tamerlane 's position in Combat before coming to the bridge. If he wants to, he could be right on top of us when we start our little multinational ballet."
"You sure?" Sindh ran some quick calculations herself. "That's not good. It's going to be hairy enough dancing around those foreign ships without worrying about that SASAL goon hanging around."
"At least we've got-"
Paul was interrupted by the bosun mate of the watch yelling out, "Captain's on the bridge!"
Hayes went straight to his chair on one side of the bridge and strapped in before looking toward Paul and Sonya Sindh. "Looks like you were right about the son of a gun, Paul. Good work."
"Thank you, sir." Alright. I'm "Paul" again instead of Mr. Sinclair.
"What if this guy tries to mess with our exercise? Do we use standard rules of engagement for foreign encounters?"
Sindh flicked a glance at Paul, who gave her a surreptitous thumbs-up back. "No, sir. Fleet's issued specific guidance for SASAL encounters during this period."
Hayes grinned. "Do you know them?"
"Yes, sir." Studied the hell out of them last night after Kwan and Garcia finished reading me the riot act. No way I was going to be caught flat-footed again this soon. "They're more restrictive than the usual rules of engagement."
"Damn. Well, hopefully he'll keep his distance and we won't need them." Commander Kwan entered the bridge and strapped into his own chair. "Hey, XO, we got company."
Kwan nodded, then gave Paul a glare. "Yes, sir."
"Okay, Sonya, Paul, let's get this show on the road."
The XO heard Hayes' tone and reference to Paul by his first name, gave Paul another less-hostile look, then focused on the displays near his chair. "Who's running Combat with Sinclair up here?"
Paul answered immediately. "Commander Garcia, sir."
Kwan nodded. "Good."
I'm glad you think so. My sailors aren't too happy about it.
They spent the next hour conducting communications checks with the foreign ships. The Brits sounded calm to the point of being relaxed, the Franco-German ship kept trying to pretend no one board spoke English, and the Russian Federation ship seemed so jovial that Captain Hayes wondered aloud if they'd been sampling their vodka rations already this morning.
Finally, the ships began their first planned maneuver. Paul found himself unusually nervous as the bosun sounded out his warning. "All hands prepare for extended maneuvering period beginning in five minutes. Secure all objects and materials. Undertake no task that cannot be completed prior to maneuvering."
Precisely five minutes later the Michaelson 's thrusters fired, shoving everyone onboard to one side. Paul and Sonya watched as the Michaelson 's maneuvering systems handled the job automatically, swinging the ship onto a new heading before the main drive cut in and slammed the crew back against their restraints. The stars spun on the visual display in front of Paul, where bright symbols superimposed on the blackness of space told him the positions of the Maury and the three foreign warships. On the maneuvering displays, the vectors of the five ships began pushing them into the shape of a huge pentagon with sides two hundred kilometers long.
"Bridge, this is Combat. The SASAL ship is up to something."
Every head on the bridge jerked over to check out the vector on the SASAL ship. It had lengthened and shifted, marking maneuvering and main drive firing by the Tamerlane. Captain Hayes, his face stressed by the force of the Michaelson 's acceleration, slapped his communications controls. "I want to know what he's doing the instant we have a reasonable estimate."
"Yes, sir. Preliminary system estimates put him heading this way."
Hayes glared toward Paul. "What can we do, Paul?"
"The rules of engagement say we should warn them off using all available means."
"Comms, get on the air to the Tamerlane and tell them to get the hell out of here. Feel free to be that blunt. Send it simultaneously using lasers on visual frequencies. Paul, what if he doesn't respond?"
Paul grimaced, knowing the captain wouldn't like what Paul was about to say. "Avoid confrontation, sir."
"What?"
"Avoid confrontation, sir. That's verbatim. If the SASAL's don't veer off, we have to avoid them."
"Damn. Combat, what the hell is he doing now?"
"He appears to be angling to cut across our bow, sir."
"I can see that, Combat! I want his CPA!"
Paul fought down a burst of anger. If I'd been down in Combat I'd have made sure my guys provided the Closest Point of Approach for the captain. Garcia just got my sailors yelled at because he wanted to answer the captain right away.
"Bridge, this is Combat. If we continue on our current course, CPA to the SASAL ship will be somewhere between forty and sixty kilometers."
Hayes' face reddened as he watched the SASAL ship continue onward. "I assume there's been no reply to our communications?"
"No, sir. None."
"Mr. Sinclair, I'd sure like to know whether or not that SASAL captain is also under orders to avoid confrontations!"
Paul, unable to think of any reply, simply nodded. "Yes, sir." Lieutenant Sindh somehow managed to make a gesture of long-suffering toward Paul without actually making it. Paul felt his frustration shifting to a similar sardonic acceptance of fate. A captain's many powers included the right to ask unreasonable questions and get ticked off if you didn't know the answers.
Captain Hayes drummed his fingers on his chair arm for several seconds. "Hell. Prepare to alter our current maneuver to avoid that ship. I want to open his CPA to one hundred kilometers."
"Aye, aye, sir," Paul and Sonya Sindh responded simultaneously, then both began calculating the necessary changes.
"Combat, notify all ships in the formation of our intended course change and tell them, uh, that is 'request' that they prepare to resume the exercise once the SASAL ship has finished ramming through here."
"Aye, aye, sir."
"Officer of the deck, do you have the evasive maneuver calculated?"
"Yes, sir," Sindh answered calmly.
"Execute it. Get us clear of that idiot."
Sindh pushed the engage button and the Michaelson 's thrusters fired again, pitching her over to the side and altering her course through space away from the place where the SASAL ship would come closest to her.
Rule of Evidence ps-3 Page 4
