Citizen X - BP01
Page 4
"That isn't fair."
"Perhaps not in the civilian world, but that's the way it is out here. The moral in the service is DNDNW— don't never do no wrong."
"DNDNW? That's a quadruple negation."
"Quadruple? Yeah, I guess it is. But in this case it doesn't add up to an affirmative. You can do a thousand things right, things that will cover your chest with medals and give you commendations up the wazoo, but do just one thing less than perfect and you're likely headed for a fall. So if you screw up, make sure the outcome doesn't leave a negative on the balance sheet. Take a page from Admiral Carver's book and memorize it."
"Admiral Carver? What's she got to do with this?"
"Nothing. She's just an example of screwing up royally but leaving a positive on the balance sheet."
"I don't follow you."
"When Carver was an ensign, she wound up agreeing to take command of a tramp freighter that had lost its captain. Then, while serving in that capacity, she responded to an emergency distress call from a convoy under attack by Raiders. She took her old bucket into battle with a Raider Cruiser, hoping that the convoy would have a chance to escape during the confusion.
"Everybody knows that story. Her heroism is legendary."
"Yeah, and I'm not saying she didn't do something great and wasn't exhibiting bravery of the highest order, but think about the act. She was only an ensign at the time and had accepted responsibility for the lives of everyone aboard that old freighter. What was the name again?"
"The Vordoth."
"Yeah, the Vordoth. Anyway, she should have headed away from that area at her top speed. She was in a freighter, and an old one at that, not a warship. She lucked out when she destroyed the Raider Cruiser, but the odds on that would have been ten thousand to one in any bookie parlor.
"Then, weeks later, she attempted to learn the location of a Raider base by following some ships involved in reclamation efforts. Instead of staying with her charges and getting them safely to port, she goes off on a crazy mission of her own design. Not only that— for transportation she takes a tug belonging to the freight company and brings two civilians along. You don't bring civilians on a highly dangerous mission to infiltrate an enemy base. Anyway, the trio is subsequently captured and winds up as prisoners intended for sale as slaves. There was nothing about that mission which was wise or correct. She should have been canned and would have been but for the result. She somehow managed to escape, free dozens of other prisoners at the base, commandeer two stolen battleships for her return to Space Command, and then even destroy the Raider base. The people in GA space loved her. Everyone in Space Command and the Space Marine Corps loved her. Even the Royal Family on Nordakia loved her. The JAG knew she had screwed up and did their best to throw the book at her. They lucked out by trying too hard. They made the court-martial charges too stiff, so the jury found her innocent of all charges. And it was a damn good thing they did. If the jury had convicted her, people on every world in GA space would have been chasing after them— the JAG, the judge, and the prosecutor— with a noose. That's what I mean by leaving a positive on the balance sheet. You can screw up royally, but if everything comes out incredibly great, you don't have to worry about being slammed. If it doesn't come out great, your career is probably over.
"You really think Carver screwed up?"
"No more than I think the Captain screwed up. They were both doing their job as they saw it, to the best of their ability. Carver was an ensign, essentially fresh out of the Academy, when she was dropped into a position that she was ill-equipped to handle. She made two very bad decisions based on gut-instinct rather than mature rationale. No experienced SC officer would ever have done what she did. They know better."
"She should have played it safe?"
"She should have played it smart. She was probably court-martialed because she made some admiral look bad. By knocking the Raiders off their feet in that sector, she did what they hadn't been able to do. Admirals don't like having junior officers make them look bad. Such officers usually wind up on the Perry, but instead she was hailed as a hero because the balance sheet was so far into the positive. Our Captain got nailed to the bulkhead and wound up on the Perry because his balance sheet was in the negative. But don't ever think he's a screw-up simply because he's on this ship. He's the best there is. I mean that. He's just running scared that he'll lose even this old bucket. His wife has passed on and he never had any kids, so we're all he's got. If you were upset after your meeting today, brush it off. He's a great skipper. He's just afraid of being posted dirt-side for the rest of his years. Okay, Syd, better take your place at the nav console before someone thinks I'm hitting on you over here."
"Yes, sir," she said with a smile. His words would give her much to think about over the rest of the watch and in the days ahead.
* * *
The Perry remained docked at the Simmons SCB for thirty days. During that time the ship's complement took full advantage of liberty privileges. All too soon, it was time for the ship to go back out on patrol. It would be another year, possibly more, before their next stop in a liberty port. During the weeks with little to do during the watch, Sydnee had begun to build friendships with other third watch personnel. On her off-duty hours, she had met and befriended numerous officers from other departments. As she became familiar with the ship, she noticed more and more unusual modifications where barely compatible parts had been used as replacements for parts no longer available. The engineering areas would give never-ending nightmares to any engineer only familiar with current-production warships, but Sydnee had grown to respect Milty's word. If he believed everything aboard ship was in good working order and presented nothing to worry about regarding the security of the ship and the safety of the crew, she would accept that until she had proof to the contrary. That would naturally come at the worst possible time.
* * *
"You heard me, Captain," Lieutenant Milton said to the image on the front monitor. "Heave to for inspection."
"I told you we were just inspected," the Nordakian Captain of the freighter insisted.
"Not possible," Milton said. "We're the only Space Command vessel in this sub-sector."
"Not here," the Captain said. "The inspection was at a border-crossing station in Clidepp space."
"The Clidepp don't share their interdiction information with us, so you'll have to go through it again. You know the law, Captain. All ships traveling from other nations must be stopped and checked when we first encounter them in our space."
The skin color of the Nordakian began to take on an orange hue, indicating that he was getting irritated. "Lieutenant, I have a schedule to maintain. I'm already a day behind because of the Clidepp inspectors. Can't you just let it go this time?"
"You know the answer to that, Captain. Now heave to. I do not wish to fire on you, sir."
"You wouldn't dare." The Nordakian's skin color jumped to bright red in an instant.
"The law is very specific. Any vessel refusing to yield is to be disabled by weapon's fire to whatever extent is necessary to accomplish the inspection. The Nordakian Royal family fully understands that and is a signatory to the accords. If said vessel is completely destroyed during that process— well— it'll be a shame."
"Okay, okay, we're stopping."
"A wise decision, Captain. An inspection team will arrive at your ship shortly. I know you'll cooperate fully."
The Nordakian scowled as the signal was cut off and the monitor at the front of the bridge changed to a view of space. There wasn't a nearby star, so the image was being created by sensors mounted on the ship's hull rather than by the Perry's cameras, but the image of the other vessel was sharp and clear.
Milton was checking the duty roster when Captain Lidden appeared on the bridge. As Captain of the Ship, he had to be notified immediately whenever a watch commander initiated an interdiction procedure, as if the announcement for GQ hadn't been enough. "Sitrep, Lieutenant," was all Lidden said.
"The freighter captain was a bit reluctant to heave to for inspection, but after a reasoned discussion he's dropped his envelope. But he's not happy about the delay. We're standing off twenty-five thousand kilometers. I'm preparing to send over the Marines to secure the vessel."
"We've encountered him before. He's always in a bad humor, but he's basically harmless and has a good reputation for thoroughness. He always says he's behind schedule and tries to get you to pass on the inspection, or at least rush through it, but it's never been to cover anything illegal, as far as we've been able to discover. Still, take your time and do it by the book. Who have you assigned as shuttle pilots?"
"I just checked the rotation list and was about to notify Weems and Stiller, sir."
"Weems is okay. Stiller is helm on the next watch, so use someone else. Use Marcola. This will be a good chance for her to get her feet wet in what should be a low-danger situation."
"Yes, sir."
"Carry on, Lieutenant."
"Yes, sir." Raising his voice, Lieutenant Milton said aloud, "Marcola."
As soon as Sydnee had heard the Captain use her name, her ears perked up. When Milton called, she stood up and reported to him at the command chair."
"Yes, sir?"
"You heard the Captain. Go jump into your armor and get down to shuttle bay Three."
"Yes, sir."
Before she could go, the Captain held up his hand to stop her.
"Marcola, this should be a low-risk assignment, but let me make your instructions perfectly clear. You're to shuttle Marines over to the Xouadess and then remain in the shuttle until the Marines notify us that the ship is secure. You will not leave the shuttle before that unless authorized by the watch commander or inspection team commander. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir. Perfectly."
"When you are permitted to leave the shuttle, you will remain in full body armor and join Lt. Weems as he supervises the inspection team. You will do everything he tells you, when he tells you. Is that clear?"
"Perfectly, sir."
"Very good. Do it by the book. Go suit up."
"Yes, sir."
Sydnee hurried from the bridge and down to her quarters, where she pulled off her uniform and replaced it with the special padded bodysuit worn under personal armor. Most Space Command personnel only wore the soft-soled boots that were part of the standard uniform, so the armored combat boots would take some getting used to. She'd previously only worn combat footwear during summer field-training exercises at the Academy and on a few weekends at the WCI.
A few days after receiving her armor, she'd read the included instructions and carefully examined each piece. It was so light it was difficult to believe the claims of near indestructibility. She hadn't donned any of it yet, so it took her a few minutes to climb into it and adjust it for basic comfort. When she was set, she activated the control that would inflate certain pads to make the armor precisely fit her body contours. The armor had definitely been designed for her exact body measurements. She felt a little clunky at first, like an armored knight from medieval times, but that mostly wore off by the time she reached the shuttle bay. The designers had done everything possible to make the armor comfortable and flexible, and the fitted contours of the armor left no doubt that she was female. The breastplate of a skinny male Marine would have been considerably flatter.
"Loaded for bear, eh, Marcola?" Weems said as she entered the shuttle bay."
"Lieutenant?" Sydnee said as she removed the helmet.
"A rifle, a pistol, and two knives? You look more like a Marine than a shuttle pilot. If not for the SC insignia on your helmet, I would have thought you were one of the jarheads."
"I thought we were supposed to prepare as if it's the most hostile situation in the universe until we know differently."
"That's what the book says, but the books are mostly written by inexperienced rear-echelon brass-polishers who have never been off Earth."
"The Captain told me to do it by the book."
"The Captain has to say that because his instructions become part of the bridge logs. It's a CYA statement. And the Captain has more reason to cover his ass than anyone else on board. For us, being sent to a dirt-side post might be an improvement. I've been on this old bucket for six years. I'm getting tired of telling people I'm on the Perry and then seeing their mouths curl up at the edges as they try to suppress a smirk."
"Although we're both O-2, the Captain said you're in command. Are you ordering me to leave some of these weapons behind?"
Weems hesitated for a moment. "No, bring whatever makes you feel safe and secure. Bring a teddy bear for all I care."
"I left him on my bed."
The shocked expression on Weems's face was priceless. "You're kidding," he said.
"Yes, I am," Sydnee said with a straight face, and then smiled.
Weems just nodded a couple of times as he studied her face, then smiled as he got the joke. "Okay, preflight your ship."
"Yes, sir."
"I'm Jerry, when military protocol doesn't require the formality," he said as he extended his hand.
"Syd," she said as she shook the proffered hand.
"Okay, Syd, get your bird ready."
"Roger, Jerry."
Sydnee performed the visual inspection of the shuttle she would fly while accompanied by the head mechanic responsible for the ship. The mechanic was ready with answers if she had any questions and with arguments if this newest snot-nosed ex-cadet gave him any grief. An ex-military pilot had once told Sydnee that she always had to find something wrong to complain about during her walk-around or the head mechanic would think she didn't know what she was doing and that he could therefore avoid doing any work he was too lazy to perform, even scheduled maintenance. Sydnee didn't subscribe to that nonsense and would only speak up if she saw something that wasn't right. She loved aircraft and spacecraft and knew what to look for and where during the visual inspection.
Everything looked fine to Sydnee, and the mechanic beamed when she grinned and gave him the thumbs up sign.
As she entered the shuttle's flight deck, she stowed her rifle and pistol belt in the locker just behind the pilot's seat. The rifle actually wasn't much more than an enlarged pistol that accommodated a larger power supply to allow a greater rate of fire and more powerful beam. But at double the length of the pistol, it couldn't fit into a holster on the belt, so it clipped onto the chest plate to make carrying easier.
The locker was wide enough to accommodate her helmet as well. When worn, the helmet self-sealed to the neckline of the armor and Simage technology took over, making it seem like the opaque front was made of glass. A HUD provided the armor-wearer with a wide range of information about the suit operations and external conditions, and allowed the wearer to interact with the system using special eye movements and winking only the right eye. A special feature using fiberoptic technology allowed the wearer to actually see 360 degrees around the body without moving the head. Since the helmet appeared to be made of Dakinium, it should be as durable as the rest of the armor. A special Simage plate, bonded to the outside, permitted the wearer to project a 3D image of the wearer's face, numerous other images stored in the suit's computer, or no image at all.
Although not technically an EVA suit, the personal armor was about as close as it came. Outside air was normally circulated inside the armor from vents around the neck, but if the internal sensors noticed a pressure drop or the air quality was judged poor or toxic, the armor sealed completely and a small rebreather unit took over. It could fully sustain the wearer during thirty minutes of extreme physical exertion, such as running, or almost
eight hours when the wearer was at rest. Where the surrounding 'atmo' was simply light on oxygen levels, the unit pulled whatever oxygen it could from the surrounding air, or via a gill-like arrangement if submerged in water, to supplement its own supply. The armor also provided limited heating and cooling capability, though the suit's capacities would begin to be overwhelmed if the wearer had to spend more than twenty minutes in extremes such as the coldness of space. Lastly, the armor had a feature that allowed the wearer to blend into any environment by projecting an image of the area behind the suit on the side facing an enemy. When the wearer wasn't moving, it worked almost to perfection, but when moving, the system had difficulty keeping up and an observer could see a slight translucent silhouette in bright light. It was the only time the wearer wasn't completely hidden.
The longer Sydnee wore the armor, the more comfortable it seemed to become. As she went through the shuttle's pre-ignition checklist, she was the happiest she'd been since first coming aboard the Perry. The feeling was simply an extension of her love of flying. This would be her first opportunity for real flight as pilot in command since leaving the WCI.
It was her fascination with flight that had first drawn her to the military. At one time, her goal had been to become a Marine fighter pilot, but when she became enthralled by Admiral Jenetta Carver adventures, she decided on a career with Space Command instead. She'd begun to wonder if she'd made the right choice as she struggled to focus on her studies in Alien Anatomy at the WCI, but at this moment everything seemed perfect, except for being assigned to the Perry.
After completing the last checklist, she sat quietly watching the activity outside the ship. While warships never had viewing ports because they represented a potential breach point in the ship, tugs and shuttles had windshields made of a polycarbonate-like material. In hazardous situations, a tritanium cover could be closed over the windshield instantly. As on a warship, a monitor filled the area at the front of the flight deck on a MAT.