Read Josiah West 1: Kaleidoscope Online
Authors: C. T. Christensen
The laughter cut him off
. Captain Beltozi came up, clapped an arm firmly around Josiah’s shoulders, and gave him a friendly shake, “There’s one thing that you have to remember about this situation. If you save the life of a four star admiral, the medal he gives you and a ten credit coin will get you a cup of coffee. However, if that admiral is the husband of the Division Administration Master Chief Petty Officer then you own the Division.”
The laughter was cut off by Admiral Jacks waving his arms, “Wait, wait, how come nobody told me it was up to ten credits?”
The question was accompanied by a stern look at his wife.
Josiah laughed with everyone else but an odd thought
hit him as he looked at the happy group around him.
Catharsis,
he thought,
these people just went over some emotional hump.
The
Admiral came forward, took Josiah’s hand, and put his other arm around his shoulders, “West, you earned those medals and my deepest gratitude and a lot more than a ten credit cup of coffee. But first I want to formally introduce you to my staff.” With that he let go of Josiah’s hand and started waving people over, “Captain Beltozi is my Chief-of-Staff and one of our resident experts on military tactics.” Josiah shook the captain’s hand and said, “I’ve read all of your books, sir. I was especially hooked on ‘The Last Submarine War’.”
Captain Beltozi was a good ten centimeters shorter than
Josiah but was built like a Hikiball guard. He had straight, black hair and a brown skinned Mediterranean look. He smiled broadly as he crushed Josiah’s hand, “Oh, so you’re the one that bought it. Don’t worry about that ten credits, I’ll buy you your next cup of coffee and…allow me to be the first.” He then stepped back, braced to attention, and saluted.
That familiar feeling of confusion started to creep back when
Josiah remembered that the Admirals Star carried one curious little perk; the wearer rated a salute from everyone below the rank of admiral beyond normal military courtesy protocols. He immediately came to attention and returned the salute. “Thank you Captain, I have to admit that I had forgotten about that.” They shook hands again. From that point on it became SOP to salute and shake hands as the Admiral introduced everyone.
“Commander Rebecca Scott
is our legal expert: Commander Stewart Locke is in charge of material logistics. Lieutenant Commander John Hoffman you have already met; he handles maintenance and supply logistics issues. Lieutenant Commander Sara Sun is our personnel logistics officer. Lieutenant Commander Steven Phelps is my usual pilot, when he’s available, and a drive systems expert. Lieutenant Commander Braun Marks oversees anything that has to do with weapons systems. Lieutenant Kofi Ataxis handles protocol. Lieutenant Simone May-Reynolds is our librarian and also a military historian; wait ‘til you see her and Beltozi go at it. Lieutenant Jesse Edwards is our communications systems expert and, finally, Lieutenant Cissy Janecks; she handles questions of foreign diplomacy.”
With the introductions finished,
the Admiral put his arm on Josiah’s shoulder again and steered him toward the large seating area, “There is one more thing I would like to talk to you about, have a seat here.”
He indicated a comfortable looking straight-back chair across a low glass table from an identical chair. Everyone else picked chairs from other tables and formed a solid ring around
Josiah and the Admiral. They left one opening through which Molly now walked carrying a stack of data pads and another case, a larger case, and placed them on the table. That smile had returned.
The
Admiral spread the pads across the table. He picked one of them, “For the last couple of weeks, ever since I got out of that damned hospital, we,” he indicated his entire staff, “have been examining your record.”
Josiah saw things going downhill again. He put his left hand over his new medals, “I do get to keep the medals, don’t I?”
Everyone grinned and Admiral Jacks got a surprised look and then grinned, “Yes, you get to keep the medals.”
“What we have been wondering about was the rather abrupt transition. You were sixth in your class of one hundred and eighty-seven at the
Academy, and then, as soon as you are assigned to the Caldwell,” he waved the pad he was holding, “you turn into a waste of skin. We would like to hear your explanation for that.”
From Josiah’s left, Commander Phelps spoke up and added to the
Admiral’s question, “We are also a little confused about the apparent lack of sufficient training to account for your skill in handling the shuttle and the rather extreme level of knowledge of its systems.”
Josiah sat for a moment thinking that someone had finally noticed,
these people are sharp; no doubt about it.
He reached to the black pouch attached to a belt clip at his left side and withdrew his logic pad. As he unfolded the screen he started answering their questions, “At the Academy I was surrounded by the best of the best. It was inspiring to have those kinds of people teaching you things. My first, and only, posting was to the Maxim Caldwell; it was a shock. Almost every officer above the rank of full lieutenant was some sort of reject. It was like a naval dumping ground.”
When those last words came out of
his mouth, the Admiral and the others stirred and looked around at each other. “Did I say something wrong, sir?”
The
Admiral gave a small laugh, “No, no, it’s just that those very words were heard in this very room about that very subject. Keep going and I don’t want you to smooth any rough edges.”
Admiral Jacks had been Division
One Commander for almost six months when he had arrived on the Caldwell to oversee Operation Blackberry. The realization now came to Josiah that he had known it was a crew of losers when he arrived and that he probably..., “Admiral, you thought I was one of them didn’t you?”
Admiral Jacks developed a slightly embarrassed smile and Josiah saw Beltozi, Hoffman, Ataxis and May-Reynolds all smiling and nodding enthusiastically, “Well, you showed up looking like a dirty rag, gave a four star
Admiral solid grief, and came seriously close to suggesting I do something anatomically improbable with myself; what was I to think?”
It was Josiah’s turn to look embarrassed as he got an idea of how he must have come across to them. He nodded slowly and picked up the thread of his thoughts about the
Caldwell, “Ok, well, it took me a few months to find out how the competent people lived on that ship. It was like there were two civilizations living side-by-side, and one of them didn’t know the other was there. Most of the top officers were either incompetent or wanted to live in their own little kingdoms, or both. The situation was duplicated to a somewhat lesser extent among the NCO’s. We, the competent group, kept things running. We saw to it that the ‘other’ group was kept out of the loop as much as possible. Orders were changed whenever possible, or some excuse was invented as to why something had to be changed, or we would assure them that it, whatever it was, would be taken care of. I crossed swords with a lot of those losers before I earned an invitation into the underground group; by then I had racked up a lot of bad reports and that is why I’m still an ensign nearly five years down the road.”
He looked back at his pad and tapped a few things on the screen. “Admiral, will you please set your pad for a file download and give it to me.”
That caught Admiral Jacks a bit off guard but he pulled out his own pad, unfolded it, and tapped some things on its screen then handed it to Josiah. “Admiral, I am going to upload a file that may cast a bit more light on things.” As he explained his actions he placed the Admiral’s pad next to his, activated a limited proximity upload, and then entered a rather long password. He then looked back up at the Admiral, “Our group kept a full set of training and performance records that was totally off the normal ship’s data system; it was the only way to keep track of whom has qualified to do what; you know, like the Navy is supposed to do. The upper level officers that would have normally done this record keeping usually couldn’t be bothered.”
Josiah checked the pads, tapped on both screens, and handed the
Admiral’s pad back. He took it and started examining the file. A minute later he looked up at Josiah, “Do you mind if we all see it?” indicating the others sitting around them.
“No, sir, I don’t mind.”
There was abrupt activity as everyone got out their pads and prepared for a download. In a moment the Admiral looked around, “Ready?” Seeing all nods he tapped and started transmitting. In a few seconds it was done, and the room grew silent as everyone started going through Josiah’s real service record.
Josiah withdrew his pad activity from the secure file system, double folded the screen again, and replaced it in his pouch. A couple of minutes later, Phelps was the first to break the silence as he looked at Josiah with a look of disbelief, “Are these ratings real? This looks like you have ratings for just about every class of anything that flies in the entire Navy, including...” here he looked back at his pad and paged from one entry to another “...every Marine assault boat type now in service and...” he paged again “...these numbers on simulator time must have had an extra zero mistakenly added. Explain this.”
Questioning looks and confusion occupied every face in the room, even the ones that were still focused on their pads. It was pretty much the response he had expected, “I suppose I could describe it as being held hostage in a candy store.” That raised a few more heads but did nothing for the confused looks. “The mission of the Caldwell is to support fleet activities. That includes equipment maintenance and training. Even though my specialty was just that of a shuttle pilot, the general personnel retention problems of the Navy were magnified further by the particular personnel problems on the Caldwell. We don’t have an overabundance of competent people with which to get the job done so if you can handle it, you get to do it. That includes any kind of training and job assignment. If you keep digging, you’ll find that I am a Frame, Drive and Power Systems Technician First-Class, a Weapons Systems Tech First-Class, an Armorer Second-Class and a Simulator Master Programmer. We also have a constant series of online and guest instructor classes in a wide variety of subjects; all under the table.”
At this point he hesitated to tell them the next thing but the looks on their faces were just so...comical that he couldn’t resist. He gave a little wave at their pads, “Under the heading ‘Odds and Ends’ you will find descriptions of two actual hot missions in which I piloted Marine assault boats during that Argentina Incident.” The Admiral took a deep breath and was preparing to say something. Josiah stuck up his hand before he could start. “I know, I know, Navy personnel are not supposed to be driving Marine assault boats into combat situations. However, there are certain people in our sister service that are, somewhat, aware of the odd nature of the
Caldwell command structure and made a special request of our group. The Marines also have manning problems. It was kept very quiet; even the Marine assault teams I took in thought I was ‘Captain Smith’, and my drop points were perimeter support missions that took very little ground fire.”
Josiah leaned back in his chair, put his elbows on the armrests
, and interlaced his fingers across his stomach, “Sir, I’ve spent almost another five years in another kind of academy getting less sleep than I did at the first one. When you first saw me in those greasy work greens, I had been working on a plumbing system getting my Environmental Systems rating.”
Silence filled the room while they flipped from page to page and tried to assimilate information about a facet of their command responsibility that they were only beginning to suspect. As he looked at each one in turn, the idea began to form that an ensign had just upset a four star
Admiral and his entire staff.
Admiral Jacks looked around, “Any further questions or comments?” There was only head shaking and stunned looks. They all knew that there were long nights ahead. “Are we agreed to continue with the rest of our planned agenda?” That brought a brightening of the prevailing mood and comments like, “Indeed” and “You bet.” The
Admiral folded his pad and returned it to his pouch; the rest did likewise. Admiral Jacks picked up another data pad. At that point, Captain Beltozi excused himself and signaled for Commander Sun and Molly to follow him to the conference table were they put their heads together and talked quietly. Admiral Jacks pushed the data pad over in front of Josiah, “Ensign West, you are due to leave the Navy in three months; I want you to re-up.”
As you get older, you learn things that you should and should not do. Some of those things that you should do include looking both ways when crossing a roadway, or doing a thorough pre-flight check, or always underestimating a woman’s age. On the other hand, you should never look down the barrel of a loaded gun, or open both ends of an airlock
to space, or, in this case, sign up for another five years in the Navy.
Josiah’s reply was a bit slow in coming as he looked at the reenlistment form waiting for his signature;
and I had hopes of getting out early
. He looked back up, “Sir, when I left the Academy, I thought I was looking at a career. After a year on the Caldwell I was totally fixed on doing my time and getting out. I was lucky to be part of the underground group, and I buried myself in it. But, I knew I would never go anywhere in the real Navy, if there was one. With my official record, I knew I would be passed over for promotions, and the opportunity for command would never exist for me.