The chief stopped and seemed to be listening to distant voices. Finally she turned back to Cindy. “We have to get along to the briefing here in a minute.
“I am not Lynn Shapiro, Ensign. I have no intention of hoping at some point that you'll notice that I'm interested in you beyond teaching you the Three R's -- so I'm telling you now. However, like Commander Shapiro, I'm patient. You don't have to do anything just now, just understand that I am suffering from unenlightened self interest. I want to be around you as much as I can.”
“I told Commander Shapiro I'm not like that.”
“I have no intention, Cindy, of forcing you or trying to induce you, to do anything against your will. At some point, I'd like to think I'd attract your attention and you'd ask yourself, 'Is Master Chief Shinzu interested in me?' I want you to know that the answer is 'yes' in advance. What you do or don't do about that is your business.”
“I was told by Admiral Nagoya and by Commander Shapiro that if I did my job, if I was good at my job, then at some point I would have a say in the conduct of the war.”
“You already had a chance,” Chief Shinzu reminded her. “You got to speak to a full council of war. If what I heard is correct, you advocated the same policy as the Federation: kill them all.”
“Lieutenant Zodiac explained to me just what our Marines might have to do to conquer one of their planets. I had a theoretical understanding of war before that battle. Now I have a practical one as well. I still think we shouldn't do unto them as they are doing unto us unless we absolutely must, but I'm no longer sure that's the best choice.
“I cannot, for instance, think I could sit still while alien invaders occupied Earth and forced people to their will. I tell myself I'd fight first. Why should I ascribe a different motivation for an alien, if we occupied its planet? I am, if nothing else, not nearly as certain as I once was about the best way to conduct the war.”
“You've heard of Hannah Sawyer's opinion?”
“Yes.”
“When she gave it, she knew she was going to die. She knew there was no logic behind the destruction she was going to mete out except as simple retribution -- which is just about the worst reason for doing something. Yet she went down the rails and did something she disagreed with, something I'm sure she understood as well as any of us still alive afterwards when we hauled out of there: a symbolic, nearly meaningless gesture.”
“Duty,” Cindy said simply.
“It was her duty,” the master chief agreed. “It's a hell of a thing to think that someone dying in such a grand, heroic manner could be a cold-hearted, cynical bitch, intent on making the rest of us pay attention to her desires, no matter what the personal cost. Yet it's sufficient explanation for what happened.”
Cindy contemplated that. “There could have been other explanations.”
“There could have been,” Chief Shinzu agreed. “Now, come, we need to get to the briefing.”
There was one last thing before they arrived. “You're not stupid, Ensign, so don't ask. We will go in there and sit down; we're the last to arrive. When the door opens a few moments later, stand up. When everyone else sits down, you sit down with the rest of us. None of us will speak unless spoken to. Most of what speaking there will be, will be directed at Lieutenant Hall and not the rest of us.”
“Zodiac said to keep answers short and simple and to always tell the truth.”
“You can't go far wrong in the Fleet doing that,” Chief Shinzu agreed.
Chapter 6 -- Pixie
Cindy followed the master chief inside the conference room. The only other person she recognized was Lieutenant Hall; there were ten others. Shinzu walked over to the lieutenant, nudged the chair next to the lieutenant back with her foot and motioned for Cindy to sit down. Cindy did, and the chief sat down next to Cindy.
The room was silent then for a couple of minutes. Lieutenant Hall stood abruptly, followed immediately by the rest of them.
Cindy swallowed when she saw who came in. Admiral Jensen, the man who had, personally, saved the entire Federation twice and who had most recently saved Earth. The man who had orchestrated the Big Battle that she'd had the smallest part in. There was another admiral with him and Commodore Heisenberg came in last.
Admiral Jensen walked to the empty chair at the head of the table and glanced at the blonde haired woman who had followed him. “You may sit, Commodore. You too, Admiral Booth.”
Irina Heisenberg sat, and then the two admirals. A second later the rest of them were seated as well.
“My part in this is brief.” He laughed. Cindy was startled by how deep his laugh was.
“BuPers got the notification of your assignments two hours ago. In spite of the fact that a lot of them are morons, not all of them are. Vassily Litvinik is as smart as anyone, anywhere. He had no comments, but others have raised them.
“You are the crew of the Pixie. Lieutenant Hall has already been told that I will brook no interference in the crew selections, once they are made, even from her. You people are hers until further notice.”
He made a gesture at Lieutenant Hall. “Lieutenant Hall was a weapons control officer aboard Dragon in the very recent extreme unpleasantness. She killed more ships than anyone else in the battle, although because every time Lieutenant Hall killed one, Captain Wolf got a half credit, Captain Wolf finished ahead of her in the total count. Between the two of them, they killed a sixth of our attackers and a third of their missiles. Four hundred and thirty major ship kills.”
Cindy saw the others glance at Lieutenant Hall, with awe in their eyes.
“She's your captain. Ensign Rhodes is your exec.” He waved at Cindy.
“Ensign Rhodes was the operation officer for Rome's Second Fighter Squadron -- Hannah Sawyer's old outfit -- during the Big Battle. Her sole duty during the battle was to monitor its progress. Afterwards, she cried for hours -- all of her pilots had been killed or mortally wounded.”
There were significantly fewer glances at Cindy.
“For your information, I spent the night after the attack in my stateroom with a baseball bat. Nothing in that compartment was intact when I left the next morning, and I could barely lift my arms.
“Most of you will never experience it, but no commander loses people without dreadful feelings about what's happened. 'If only...'” his voice trailed away.
“You can't be a good commander if you let that bother you for very long. You do your best, but you know you could have always done something different... better... it's a hell of a thing. The best officers grow in that environment; most shrink. Ensign Rhodes has grown. Think about that before you decide to offer an opinion about someone like her, placed over someone like you.”
He paused and gestured at the three star admiral that had entered the compartment with him. “Vice Admiral Booth is now my aide. For your information, the entire Pixie project is his idea, right down to crewing the ships. There are a great many officers who believe that throwing officers into a 'crucible of fire' as Admiral Booth describes it, is insane and that we can't afford it. I say we can.”
He grinned more broadly and ran his fingers over his sleeve. “I have more stars -- so I win.”
He turned serious then. “BuPers, some of them, are having major league doubts about this. For a number of trivial and unimportant reasons they are very upset. You go out there! You do your duty! You do your duty and ignore the mushrooms!”
He stood smoothly, turned and headed for the door, followed by Admiral Booth, who had never said anything.
Cindy had obeyed Chief Shinzu's silent request to stay seated; a few of the others had stood when the two admirals left.
Irina Heisenberg growled, “Did anyone tell you to stand up?”
Everyone sat back down with alacrity.
“Let me be blunt. Seven of the twelve of you have no idea what I mean by 'wired.' Another of the remaining five has heard the term, but doesn't know yet what it entails. The last knows what it means. After this meaning, those of
you not wired, will be. All will be clear then.
“I am ordered out to the edge of known enemy space with what is left of my cruiser squadron. Four cruisers, four crews, nearly twenty-five hundred men and women. There I am to support you, the first of the Pixie class. You have no need to know how many others of your class will be out there, nor where they are. You will have an assigned patrol area, and there you will go to observe and report.
“Lieutenant Hall will have direction on how to go about this... suffice to say that while we will do our best to protect you, we're not going to risk a cruiser and five or six hundred people to pull a dozen of you out of a sticky situation. Adjust to it -- the Federation has declared all of you are expendable. Yes, they really hope you survive and report, but if you're lost, they'll try something else.
“In the same vein, the dirty-feet are very upset with you. What you will be doing is incredibly dangerous; we're not willing to expend just anyone in this effort. Pixie will be the first named Fleet ship in hundreds of years to go out without a single individual with a bridge watchkeeping officer. You have, in fact, only a single one-x certificate among you -- Lieutenant Hall's weapons certificate.
“It will do your careers no harm to learn that Fleet certificates, while of extreme importance, aren't the be all and end all of the universe.
“Chief Shinzu, call Grissom departures and arrange a time for all of you to be taken out to your ship. Sooner is better than later.” Commodore Heisenberg pulled out an HDD and handed it to Lieutenant Hall. “These are your orders, Lieutenant. In broad you will depart for Adobe, and upon reaching there, place yourself under the command of Captain Colinda Drake. You will begin a series of exercises under Captain Drake's supervision. At the end of thirty days my formation should be there and we will make our final plans for our mission. Expect to spend a year or so in your patrol area and five months, each way, in transit.”
Commodore Heisenberg stepped back and saluted the room. Lieutenant Hall returned it, and a moment later the commodore was gone -- to be replaced by two doctors wheeling a gurney between them.
Master Chief Shinzu spoke to Lieutenant Hall. “Our shuttle departure is in three hours. Call it an hour here, an hour to settle personal affairs and ten minutes to clear the station -- plenty of time.”
“Thank you, Master Chief. Please get the out-processing started. Gunny Hodges,” she spoke to the oldest person in the room, perhaps in his late forties, wearing a dark green/light green tiger-striped shipsuit. “You will repair forthwith on board Pixie and begin the consumables inventory. Take Junior Chief Galan with you.
“The rest of us will be here for the next bit.”
The leader of the medical team, nodded at the gurney. “Lieutenant Hall, if you would, please lay face down on the gurney.”
As she was getting into place the doctor faced the rest of them. “This is a minor surgical procedure that takes only a few moments. A tiny incision is made, a device implanted and the incision closed, sealed and a bandage applied. In the unlikely event an infection develops, treat it as you would an infected cut -- topical antibiotics, and cover the injury and the like.”
The doctor and his assistant blocked the view of what was going from the rest of them, but it was over quickly.
“Ensign Rhodes.”
Lieutenant Hall was up and out of the way; unless you looked hard, you couldn't see the small, flesh-colored bandage on the back of her neck. The doctor had been talking to everyone while he worked on Lieutenant Hall, now he spoke directly to Cindy.
“You are, Ensign, the youngest person we've ever performed this procedure on. There is not the slightest reason to believe that the results will be any different for you than for anyone else. If, however, you experience any symptoms, besides the obvious ones, please let us know.”
Once she was prone, there was a momentary feel of coldness against the back of her neck, and then she could feel movement there. Still, a moment later, he told her she was done and asked for the next person.
Cindy stood up, uncertain what she was supposed to feel.
She heard Chief Shinzu's voice in her head. “Don't speak aloud -- the term is 'subvocalize' -- basically speak without opening your mouth. With practice, you can do it without moving your lips.”
“Pardon, Master Chief?” Cindy did, at least, remember to keep her mouth closed.
“On the topmost level, you can think of this as a built-in personal smart phone. You just think of who you want to talk to, and you can call them if they are wired as well. While you could, in theory, call up Admiral Fletcher on this, actually, the system negotiates between the stations and if you don't actually need to talk to him, you won't get to. You would, however, almost certainly get a purple rocket if you tried.”
“What's a purple rocket?”
“That's the euphemism for getting in trouble, although it almost always implies not terribly serious trouble. Being wired is directly hooking into the Fleet's main computer net. Aboard a ship, you're wired into your ship's computer. You could, for instance, state an arbitrarily large number and you would be told the square of it, if that's what you wanted. Or its square or cube root. You can access anything the computer believes you to be authorized to.”
“Oh.” Cindy contemplated that for a moment. The computer monitored you all the time? What about privacy? What about all of those things you did in private?
“About now,” Chief Shinzu spoke in her head again, “you're wondering about privacy... oddly that's the first thought of anyone with half a brain. While the computers have the capacity to monitor as many individuals as are currently linked in, they couldn't begin to remember everything we all say and do in a day. Yes, there are things that trigger the computer's memory. Kill someone and it will remember, for instance.”
“I never would.”
“So far, no one has. But if it happens... then we will know.”
Cindy watched as her last fellow crewmate went through the process. “We're done,” she told Shinzu.
“Roger that. Gather up your flock, have them pick up their personal things and report to the shuttle bay. Someone from BuPers will be there to extract their paperwork.”
“I thought the commodore said we'd have a little time.”
“That was then... this is now. We need to get going.”
There was someone waiting for them at the shuttle dock, a very angry Port captain from BuPers who was arguing with Commodore Heisenberg.
The angry Port captain wasn't scary -- but it was downright terrifying to see the commodore angry. The BuPers captain was refusing to allow them to depart; he'd brought Marines with him to keep them out of their shuttle. Commodore Heisenberg had brought herself and her temper. After two minutes of fruitless argument, Commodore Heisenberg picked up her phone.
“I want to speak Vice Admiral Gonzalvo, the station commander.” There was a pause and Commodore Heisenberg's face went from fair to choleric in a millisecond. “I don't care what he's doing. The next call I will make will be to Fleet Admiral Nagoya who told me that I was to launch a particular ship under my command and I quote 'forthwith, with all due expedition.' I assume that means right now.
“When I talk to him, I will be demanding a Special Board for this Captain Kornblatt for Race Treason, obstructing and delaying the defense of the human race. If the admiral doesn't get his hind end down here and get this moron out of my way, I'll name him as a codefendant.”
There was another pause and the commodore laughed sourly. “What a surprise! He's found time in his otherwise busy schedule to avoid going before a Special Board! I'm just so thrilled he could break away from whatever it was!”
A moment later she vented on the admiral. “I don't care what you think, Admiral. I'm of the belief that a command from Admiral of the Fleet Nagoya, signed off personally by President Van der Veere is something to be obeyed and not delayed.
“I don't care about what some BuPers officer thinks about officer qualifications. The captain of the Pixie ki
lled hundreds of enemy ships in the recent battle. She's second on the list behind Captain Wolf. Her exec was a fighter squadron operations officer and then exec and then commanded it. It may not have occurred to you, but fighter pilots rarely have the usual watchkeeping certificates.
“This is your last warning, sir. I will have to report this to Admiral Nagoya and it will be my recommendation that a Special Board should be called to straighten out some officers' notions of priorities... but I'd be willing to bet that before that Board meets, Pixie will be on her way with the designated crew.”
She took a deep breath and turned to the BuPers captain and handed him her phone. “Admiral Gonzalvo wishes a word with you, Captain.”
The captain took the phone turned around and walked a few steps. It was impossible not to notice he had to hold the phone a few inches away from his ear -- the voice on the other end was screaming at him.
The captain closed the phone and handed it back to Commodore Heisenberg. “The shuttle may depart, Commodore. I am, however, going to officially report this.”
The commodore gave him a wicked grin. “If I were you, I'd talk to Admiral Gonzalvo first. If you officially report it, there would be a Board of Inquiry. That board would reach the conclusion that I was obeying my orders and that you were obstructing them. Odds are they'd return a request for a Special Board. Odds are, unless Admiral Gonzalvo does some fancy tap dancing, he'd face it as well. I imagine if he has to tap dance to avoid a charge of race treason, he's going to throw you off the sleigh to feed the wolves.”
She turned to Lieutenant Hall. “Get your crew aboard and underway as soon as possible, Captain Hall.”
“Aye, aye, Commodore.” The lieutenant saluted the commodore, who gravely returned it. Without a word the Marines moved away from the boarding tube and the crew of the Pixie boarded their shuttle.
Well-Traveled Rhodes (Kinsella Universe Book 6) Page 12
