Heart of Steel: Book II of the Jonathan Pavel Series (29 page)

Okai continued, “In fact I’m glad you called off the pursuit of that other destroyer when you did, otherwise we might have had major trouble.”

“Yes that’s what I wanted to discuss, Lt. Commander. You mentioned in your After Action Report that we ran a real risk of redlining, but you didn't inform the bridge crew.”

“Ugh..I..I” Okai said.

“We were a bit busy fixing the problem to get on the horn sir,” Hilper said her tone somehow both respectful and acidic.

“Yes, I’m sure you were. Just next time make sure I’m up to date on any issues we run into,” Jonathan said.

“Right. Yes skipper,” Okai said realizing he wasn’t in for a busting he no doubt had expected.

“Now, this issue. Is it a problem with the
Fury’s
design or is it something we can fix?”

Hilper piped up, “It’s fixable sir.”

“Lt. we discussed this,” Okai said a bit agitated.

“We did sir,” then she continued, “In
my
opinion sir, the problem is fixable. The issue is with the primary junction relay. When they did the refit a couple years back, they used a TS-900 instead of the TS-650, which is what the
Horatio
class were designed for.”

“And to fix it we would need to remove the TS-900 and swap it for a TS-650, but we would need yard time for that since the TS-650 is the size of a ground car and weighs about twenty tons,” Okai said sullenly. “Considering that Matosa has one tenth the yard space of
Macran
in the whole system, I don't
think such a fix is possible,” Jonathan replied.

“Not if we retrofit it,” Hilper said.

“Which, as far as I can tell, has never been done before,” Okai replied.

“That doesn't make it impossible,” Hilper countered.

“Excuse me,” Jonathan said his voice a few octaves below a snap.

“Sorry sir,” Okai said.

“Sir,” Hilper said sullenly.

“How much risk would it be to retrofit Lt. Commander?” Jonathan asked.

“Well,” Okai said glancing at Hilper. “As far as I can tell, the actual retrofit won't be much of a risk. Of course we’ll need to take the engines and barriers offline along with the weapons, but we’ll be able to keep the life support running.”

“How long would we be offline?” Jonathan asked.

“Couple of hours, maybe a day or two maximum,” Okai said.

“The risk is, sir, is that if we don't do it properly we could have a massive cascading failure, which could drop our barriers and blow out our engines.”

“I can see how that would be bad,” Jonathan replied. He pondered a moment then nodded.

“Okay we get into orbit of Xifeng the day after tomorrow. Once we are there, go ahead and do what you need to. I’d rather we try to fix the problem than ignore it and hope it goes away.”

“That sounds like a good idea sir,” Okai said.

Hilper just nodded and put down her coffee, “If you’ll excuse me sir, I need to see to something.”

“Of course Lt. you are dismissed,” Jonathan said saluting. Hilper returned his salute and strode out of the room, closing the hatch behind her.

“Well that could have gone worse,” Okai said leaning over his schematics.

“Everything alright between you and your No 2?” Jonathan asked.

“Aye sir, she’s a smart girl. Smarter than me even, and I’ve never seen anyone who knew reactors better. The problem is she’s got a lot of what you could call unbridled enthusiasm.”

“Well do what you can to temper it, while you're at it though no reason not to start sorting out how to best manage a retrofit.”

“Aye sir, I’ll get the lads on it.”

Jonathan nodded and excused himself. Heading out of engineering, he was struck by the good cheer of the crewmen all of whom snapped to attention at his coming and resumed what they were doing as he passed. It wasn't a surprise, not really.  They had see their first action and lived through it. Such an experience tended to make men's spirits a bit more buoyant. The situation might be dire with the war, but that was abstract to the crew of the
Fury.
They knew their little corner of the war had ended with victory and they were proud of it. They were far from the only ones. News of
Fury
and her consorts destruction of the Colonial wolf pack, the capture of the
Maltese
and three Colonial warships was already spreading across the fleet. The
Fury's
crew had received many hearty congratulations from their comrades on other ships as well as command. More privately, Jonathan had received a congratulatory letter from both Hopper and the OMI section chief of the 5th for his capture of
Abouet’s
intact data core. Jonathan didn't kid himself. This was a lull between storms. Soon
Fury
would be facing danger again, and privately Jonathan worried about the old girl. She had performed well enough, but she was an old girl and her age was showing. Coming down the central corridor Jonathan almost bumped squarely into Terrance Knowles, who seemed deep in thought.

“Watch it…” Knowles began but seeing Jonathan's rank pins turned as bright a shade of red as his dark skin would allow and snapped to attention.

“Apologies sir, I wasn't with myself.”

“No problem Bosun. I’m sure most folks who bump into you just bounce off.”

That caused a smile to appear on Knowles’s face but just as quickly vanish. Knowles had a fixation on proper decorum that most conservative Landeds would find obsessive.

“Actually sir, I was looking for you,” Knowles said his face the picture of proper deference as he handed Jonathan a memo pad.

“It took some doing, but I’ve put together everything I know about the
Octavian
class frigate and any other warship the ETO has deemed exportable.

Jonathan took the pad and skimmed it briefly. It was a very detailed report and Jonathan was impressed.

“I’ll have Lt. Commander Heath pass this on to OMI. You never know if they could glean something useful from it. This shows some real initiative Knowles I dont suppose...”

Knowles held up his hand, “I know what you're going to say sir and no I’m never going to sit for the OCS test. No offense sir, but I dont have the class. Slum rats like me don’t fly ships. We’re just along for the ride besides I’m happy where I’m at.”

“I think you are wrong Knowles, how long have you been in the navy now?”

“Almost 25 years now skipper.”

“And you never noticed the meritocratic streak that runs a star system wide through the navy?  The Admiral of the Fleet is the son of a mill foreman.”

Knowles nodded, “That may be true sir, but you no doubt know there's good wogs and bad ones, and a Terran wog would be a curiosity at best. Besides, like I said I’m happy where I’m at.”

Jonathan nodded, “I won't push you on it Bosun, but if you ever change your mind I’ll write your recommendation letter myself.”

“Much obliged sir.”

“Now Boats, anything I should know going on below deck?”
A ghost of a smile graced Knowles’s face again.

“You were a spacer born weren't you sir? Not a lot of other officers so attentive to the pulse of what's happening, but so light footed about it.”

“Goes with the experience.”

“Right. Well, first of all that Gremlin you let onboard has only gained about ten pounds. Half the crew thinks he's our good luck charm, and the other half thinks he's cute as hell and loads of fun. Either way, he gets fed wherever he goes.”

“Well spread the word the Gremlin is on a diet. Spacer Jung has been caring for the creature for years. He’ll know what to feed him to get him back to a healthy weight. Wouldn't do any good to have our good luck charm keeling over from a cardiac arrest now would it.”

“Suppose not sir. One other thing. Have you talked to the Vicar lately?”

“Reverend Hightower, no why?”

“She’s having a hard time sir. Not really use to ship life. Her last two sermons were... well...they were tough to sit through.”

“I’ll have a word with her. Anything else?”

“Not at the moment sir.”

“Very well then Bosun carry on,” Jonathan said saluting Knowles.

The ship's chapel was located just off the passageway to the forward bottom turret. It was a modest room capable of seating about a hundred people. The limited space aboard ship meant that only half that seating was available with the rest being used as temporary storage. The altar was also modest. It was a wooden table bolted to the floor, and the denomination of the chaplin determined what religious icon decorated the altar. Jonathan knelt before the plain wooden cross and two chalices one wood one gold, well actually the second one was brass but it looked gold.

“Captain!” Came a startled cry from behind Jonathan.

He turned to see Hightower, her messy brown hair pulled in a bun, and on her neck was the space sickness patch.

“Reverend, how are you?”

“I well enough, I…” she looked at Jonathan. “In the Naval hierarchy where do I fall? Am I allowed to confide in you or is it inappropriate?”

Jonathan did his best not to laugh because it was a serious question. “Your outside the hierarchy Reverend. As Captain of this ship, it's my job to see to the needs of its crew, all of its crew. What’s troubling you?”

She sank down onto a pew exhaustion showing in her eyes.

“I haven't slept since I came aboard. I mean I get a few hours here and there, but I haven't really slept. Every time I take my patch off I puke, which is alright because the food doesn't taste right, and I miss the sun. God I’d kill just to feel the breeze on my face.” She looked up at Jonathan her cheeks turning red with a blush.

“Oh god I just said all that didn't I, sorry I didn't mean to let it all come tumbling out it’s just...”

“Easy, easy, no need to apologize Reverend,” Jonathan said putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. He saw the problem right away and he kicked himself for not seeing it earlier. Hightower was a true civilian in uniform. She was having a hard time coping with life aboard ship. Come to think of it...

“Reverend when was the last time you were in space?”

“The first time was when I was on the transport coming out here. I’ve never been off of Solaria before, actually I’ve never left New Albion.”

“Oh,” Jonathan said well this complicated things. “Have you tried getting a script from the medbay?”

Hightower’s face flashed briefly with something approaching anger, “I did. It didn't take.”

Jonathan sensed something behind the comment. He’d been hoping Perkins’s new attitude had resolved the lingering resentment his personality could cause. Apparently it had not, but one crisis at a time.

“Well then Reverend I guess I have to ask, why are you here?”

“I...it’s not going to sound logical sir.”

“Captain, Skipper, or Jonathan if you prefer when we are alone. No need to sir me. You're outside the chain of command remember,” Jonathan said.

“Oh right sorry Skipper,” Hightower said trying out the word.

“No problem. So why?” Jonathan asked.

Hightower seemed to hesitate until finally she said in a voice so quiet Jonathan barely heard her.

“God told me to...” she seemed to tense up after she said the phrase no doubt expecting ridicule, or Jonathan to smile and nod as he slowly backed away.

Instead, Jonathan just remained silent his expression blank waiting for the rest of the explanation.

“Not directly, I’m not crazy or anything,” Hightower said. “It's just with the war brewing I prayed on what I should do and it came to me. I needed to join the military, and help those who were going to put their lives on the line, and if I’m being honest it finally gave me a chance to get out of Hyunia Valley.”

Hightower slumped in her seat. “I’m 26 years old. I entered the seminary at 20 and spent the last three years as the Deacon of the church in my home town. The Seminary which was fifteen miles away was the farthest I’ve ever been before now, and I don't know if I’ve made any difference. Skipper maybe I ought to resign. Take the first civilian ship from Xifeng back to Solaria and back home.”

Jonathan looked at her for a minute, then he spoke.

“You don't drink do you Reverend?” Jonathan asked.

“Uh no Captain, just wine and beer. Spirits are prohibited.”

“Right. Well normally I’d suggest a good glass of whiskey, but I think I know another way to cure what ails ya. Follow me.”

Jonathan took hold of her wrist and pulled her to her feet. He led her down the corridors to an access tube just forward of the main turret.

“This way, mind your head,” Jonathan said scaling the ladder.

Hightower followed behind him at a slower pace. They scaled the vertical tunnel till they reached a hatch marked with great red letters which said. Warning Zero G.

Jonathan opened it.

“Up we go,” he said climbing past the doorway and floating freely within the empty chamber. Looking behind he could see Hightower at the edge of the ladder her face fearful.