Ride The Rising Tide (The Maxwell Saga) (28 page)

Steve drank from his coffee cup, his face thoughtful. “That makes good sense.”

“It does, Sir, and it works. If they screwed up seriously enough to warrant reaming out, or even formal punishment, then by all means do that, Sir: but even then, try to do it positively. You want them to grow through the experience, if at all possible. The Fleet’s invested a lot of time and money to bring them this far. Why throw that investment away?” She grinned. “Think of it as an opportunity to reinforce lessons that should have been learned earlier. Way back in Boot Camp, I screwed up and shot a horrible score at the range one day. I was mad at myself, because I’d practiced until I thought I’d got everything right — body position, sight alignment, trigger squeeze, the lot. The Platoon Instructor heard me bitching and pulled me up short. She told me, ‘Recruit, an amateur practices until she’s got it right. A professional practices
until she can’t get it wrong!’
I’ve never forgotten those words.”

Steve took a deep breath. “I take your point, Senior Chief — and those are words to live by! I’ll remember them, and pass them on.”

“Good. Look at it this way, Sir. The Exec’s responsible to the Commanding Officer for the readiness and operational efficiency of the ship. He can’t possibly check on every detail in person. He has to delegate many of his responsibilities to more junior officers. They, in turn, delegate to others. Delegation flows downwards, and reports flow back upwards. Lieutenant–Commander Kilian has to trust the reports he receives; but he still checks up on his subordinates from time to time, to make sure they’re doing their job. That’s what he was doing with you yesterday, when he found out there was a problem of which he hadn’t been informed.

“
You can do the same thing, Sir, although as a very junior officer you’ll need to be tactful. Set aside a few hours every week to audit one of your responsibilities in detail. See whether reality corresponds to what your NCO’s are telling you. Make sure they understand this is a routine thing and doesn’t imply distrust of them, just like when the Exec audits you from time to time. If you consistently work that way, right from the start, they’ll accept it. If an audit is something unusual and extraordinary, they’ll be much more worried by it, and probably try to cover up anything that may be wrong — which is precisely what you don’t want to happen.”

Steve’s brow cleared. “That’s a good idea, Senior Chief. I’ll do that. Thank you very much. Will you please help me set up that routine, and persuade them to cooperate?”

“All part of the service, Sir.” They grinned. “I doubt you’ll meet any resistance. Judging by what I hear from the ship’s company, you seem to be making the right impression so far.”

~ ~ ~

Senior Lieutenant Fulghum sent for Steve at mid–morning, and handed him an electronic clipboard. “There’s the results of a full stock–take of the commissary. I worked all night with PO O’Grady and PO Jorgensson to get it done. There’s also an audit of the commissary’s books. I’m afraid there are problems. The inventory received by the store doesn’t match what’s actually in stock, and the books don’t show any income from its sale. Both discrepancies have been logged and signed by the Exec, so you won’t be held responsible for them.”

“
I’m sorry to hear that, Sir,” Steve said sincerely as he scanned the figures. “It could happen to any of us.”

“
Yes. I suggest you put more time and effort into the commissary than I did, so it doesn’t happen to you! PO O’Grady and myself will have to face the music over this.”

He didn’t go into detail, and Steve wasn’t about to ask. They signed off on the stock–take and audit, and Fulghum handed over his keys.

During the afternoon watch, Lieutenant–Commander Kilian gave him a little more information. “I’m telling you this in strict confidence, because I want you to learn from this situation. Senior Lieutenant Fulghum and PO O’Grady will each have a reprimand placed on their files for failing to exercise due care and attention in their responsibilities. It’ll stay there for a year, after which, if they haven’t blotted their copybooks in any other way, it’ll be removed. Even so, it’ll probably delay their next promotions by at least half a year. The only reason they got off that lightly is that they’ve agreed to pay for the discrepancy out of their own pockets. Each will officially ‘buy’ half of the missing items, and their payments will balance the books. It’ll cost them several hundred credits apiece. If they hadn’t agreed to that, we’d have had to ask for an investigation by the Bureau of Security — and you know where
that
might have led.”

“
Yes, Sir.” Steve knew that when BuSec was called in, courts–martial often resulted. He also knew that if Fulghum and O’Grady had been disciplined like this, it meant Kilian had probably had an uncomfortable interview with Commander Mars. He most likely wouldn’t have received a formal reprimand on his file, but he’d certainly have been put on notice to keep a sharper eye on his responsibilities.

“
I discussed the handover with Senior Lieutenant Fulghum,” Kilian went on. “He confirmed that he’d tried to make you take over without an up–to–date inventory or audit of the books — in fact, he owned up to giving you an illegal order. You didn’t mention that to me, and I understand why. In your shoes, as an inexperienced officer on his first operational assignment, I might have made the same decision. Nevertheless, trying to issue such an order may be a symptom of possible deeper problems, of which an officer’s superiors need to be aware. I suggest, if it happens in future, you find a way to informally discuss it with your Exec or Commanding Officer, for the sake of good order and discipline in general.”

“
Aye aye, Sir.”

“
So what have you learned from this situation, Ensign?”

“
A lot, Sir. I spent some time with Senior Chief Luculle this morning, discussing it. She gave me some good advice.” He summarized what she’d said. “Between that and what you told me yesterday, Sir, I think I can see how to avoid such problems in future.”

“
Good. I’ll keep a close eye on how you manage the commissary over the next month or two, but that’s not through any lack of trust in you — it’s simply to make sure that this mess has been dealt with once and for all.”

“
I understand, Sir.” Steve hesitated. “Sir, is it advisable to retain PO O’Grady as Commissary NCO, or should I try to replace him?”

“
I’d say keep him on for now. He helped cause the problem, and he’s been punished for that. I’d like to see him make good, given a chance to demonstrate that he’s capable of learning from his mistakes. Keep a close watch on him, and if you think he needs to be removed for ongoing lack of performance, talk to me about it. Unfortunately, that may imply he can’t be trusted in his primary area of responsibility in Stores, either. That would open up a whole new can of worms!”

“
Aye aye, Sir. I’ll try to help him as much as I can.”

“
Good.” The Exec looked at him thoughtfully. “I’m pleased to see you’ve accepted correction appropriately, Ensign, and I’m glad you consulted the Chief of the Ship. She’s very good at her job, and gives excellent advice. I know — I’ve taken it myself from time to time! She’ll help you take a round turn on your responsibilities going forward. You’re learning fast. Keep up the good work.”

Steve entered the docking bay carefully, picking his way through a work party of spacers loading crates, boxes and sacks onto a conveyor system that whisked them away into the bowels of the ship. The Petty Officer on duty at the counter looked up, recognized him, and grinned. “Evening, Sir. Come to get your hands dirty for a change?”

He sighed, trying to sound delicate. “No, PO Hyun, I try to keep them as soft and lily–white as possible. Can’t have them looking as if I actually
work
for a living, you know. That might ruin my dilettante image.”

The NCO guffawed. “It’s slipping badly, Sir. You were giving a pretty good imitation of hard work yesterday while we were replacing the fuel cartridges in the shuttles.”

“Shhh!”
Steve put his finger to his lips. “Don’t say that aloud! People might hear you!”

“
Don’t worry, Sir. Your secret’s safe with me.”

They felt a light thump through the fabric of the ship. In a light panel above an airlock, a red diode came on, showing that the airlock’s trunk was engaging with a newly–arrived small craft. It was replaced almost immediately by an amber, showing that the lock was equalizing pressures between the two vessels.

“That’ll be him now, Sir. That shuttle came straight up from the Marine Reaction Force base. They must be in a hurry to get rid of him.”

Steve grinned as he shook his head. “It’s more that we’re in a hurry to get him. Our Marines have a lot to do over the next week. It’ll be best if he does it with them, so he can get used to them and they to him.”

As he finished speaking, the panel above the airlock displayed a green light. The inner door clicked and opened. A smartly–uniformed Marine officer stepped into the docking bay. He wore the twin gold bars of a First Lieutenant on the epaulettes of his Number Two uniform. He came to attention and saluted the Commonwealth flag below the ship’s crest. As his hand came down he saw Steve, and his face broke into a huge grin.

“
Steve, you scrofulous Spacer!”

“
Brooks, you mangy Marine!”

They hugged each other, laughing, pounding each others’ shoulders, to the amusement of the work detail and the Petty Officer at the reception desk.

Brooks released him at last. “Did you have anything to do with my getting this slot?”

“
You might say that. Lieutenant Garcia got the signal about his parents while we were inbound from the system boundary. Commander Mars granted him immediate emergency compassionate leave, but decided we can’t afford to be without a Marine platoon commander at present. There’s too much going on. He’ll be gone for at least two to three months — his home planet’s a long way from here, and it’ll take time to sort out family affairs. She told the XO to signal for a temporary replacement, but Sector Marine HQ said that if we needed one for that long, we’d best have a new platoon CO. Lieutenant Garcia will be reassigned when he gets back. They told us to ask the Sector’s Marine Reaction Force Brigade for a spare platoon commander.

“
I happened to hear about it, so I explained to the Exec that we’d been roommates at OCS, and you were currently with the MRF here. He warned me I’d be held responsible if you weren’t up to the job, but I told him there was no danger of that. He must have mentioned your name in his signal, and MRF must have decided it wanted to get rid of you — so here you are.”

“
I owe you a beer or three! I’ve been waiting for a platoon command to fall vacant in my battalion, but nothing’s been available for a long time. Now, out of the blue, not only does one fall into my lap, but it’s an independent platoon on detached service aboard a destroyer! I couldn’t have asked for a better assignment.”

“
I’m glad to have a buddy on board. We’ve got just over a year left in our assignment to this Sector, so you’ll have enough time with us to learn the job thoroughly. You didn’t mind extending your tour away from Lancaster for a few months to take this job?”

“
Heck, no! I’ll go back with command time in an independent platoon on my record, rather than a platoon under the direct supervision of a company commander. Independent command’s considered a notch higher in terms of operational experience, which is good for the old career path. Lieutenant Garcia’s already got it on his record, so he won’t lose out on that, of course. He’ll probably take my place in MRF when he gets back.” Brooks’ eyes fell on the twin silver bars on the collar of Steve’s shirt. “I see you got your second bar too.”

“
Yes. Being a Junior Lieutenant is a lot more fun than being an Ensign. I’m an independent Officer of the Deck now, instead of always having to assist someone more senior.”

“
And two bars made me eligible for this slot when it opened up. They’d never have given me an independent platoon if I was still a Second Lieutenant.” He fished in his pocket for a data chip, and turned to the Petty Officer behind the reception desk. “Sorry about the delay, PO. Lieutenant Maxwell and I are old friends. I’m First Lieutenant Brooks Shelby, come aboard to join. Here are my orders.” He handed over the data chip.

“
Glad to have you aboard, Sir.” The NCO inserted the chip into his reader and swiftly scanned the official document that appeared on his display. “All in order, Sir.  I’ve copied them to the relevant departments.” He extracted the chip and returned it.

“
Thanks, PO.” Tucking the chip into his pocket, Brooks turned back to Steve. “I guess I ought to report to the XO at once.”

“
I’ll take you to his office. PO Hyun, will you have a couple of your working party take Lieutenant Shelby’s dunnage to his cabin, please?”

“
Aye aye, Sir.”

“
Thank you. Let’s go, Brooks.”

Steve led him out of the docking bay into the main fore–and–aft passageway, running the length of the ship. They stepped onto the high–speed conveyor in the center of the passageway and stood, swaying gently to the motion, as it carried them forward from the stern of the ship.

“What does the ship’s motto mean, Steve — ‘
Fortiter in Re’
?”

“
It means ‘Unyielding In Action’. It goes all the way back to a famous water warship with the same name as ours during the Second Global War on Old Home Earth, just before the space age. I’m glad you noticed it. Commander Mars asked me that same question soon after I reported aboard, but I hadn’t thought to look it up. She wasn’t terribly pleased with me about that. She’s a very good Commanding Officer. Her standards are very high, but she lives up to them herself and leads by example. She keeps reminding us that as the Division flagship, we have to set the standard for the other three ships.”

“
You bet! So what’s going on that you needed me in such an all–fired hurry?”

“
Achilles
goes into dock tomorrow for a ten–day maintenance period before our next patrol, and to refurbish some missiles whose guidance systems are close to expiration of their shelf life. You and I will take our shuttles and search parties to work with Midrash’s System Patrol Service until the ship’s back in service. All your Marines will be involved, so you’ll have a chance to get to know them without other shipboard duties getting in the way.”

“
Excellent! What’s my Platoon Sergeant like?”

“
Gunnery Sergeant Kowalski’s a good man. I’ve enjoyed working with him. He keeps his Marines on the hop, and they seem to like and respect him.” Steve motioned to an exit point. “We get off here.”

They hopped off the conveyor, taking a couple of quick steps to balance themselves as they slowed down. Steve led Brooks into a side passage and knocked at the first door.

“Enter!” Lieutenant–Commander Kilian’s voice called from inside.

Steve opened the door. “First Lieutenant Shelby is here, Sir.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Maxwell. Come in, Lieutenant Shelby.”

Steve winked at Brooks, ushered him inside and closed the door behind him, then headed back down the passage. He had a lot to do before tomorrow.

~ ~ ~

Midrash’s System Patrol Service occupied a section of the planet’s enormous Cargo Terminal in Lagrange–Two orbit. Steve and Brooks sat beside their pilots as they brought their assault shuttles smoothly into its cavernous docking bay, the destroyer’s cutter sliding in alongside them bearing additional equipment. Forty Marines and twenty Spacers disembarked, complete with everything they needed for a week on detached duty. The cutter pilot waved them a cheerful farewell before heading back to
Achilles
.

Gunnery Sergeant Kowalski chivvied the Marines into three ranks, called them to attention, dressed the formation, then reported to Brooks. Petty Officer Hyun did the same for the Spacers, reporting to Steve. They waited at Parade Rest until they saw a group of officers approaching.

“They’re all Spacers, Steve,” Brooks observed
sotto voce
. “You take it.”

“
OK, thanks.” Steve turned to face the unit. “Detachment, at–
ten
–HUT!” Sixty pairs of heels cracked together as one. He turned to face the official welcoming party and saluted the leading officer, who wore the single ringed planet of Lieutenant–Commander’s rank on his epaulettes. Steve noted that whilst the Midrash party’s uniforms were of the same cut and style as those of Fleet Spacers, they were deep blue instead of black.

“
Junior Lieutenant Maxwell reports for detached duty, accompanied by First Lieutenant Shelby and sixty Marines and Spacers from LCS
Achilles
, Sir.”

The Midrash officer returned his salute, then held out his hand. “Welcome aboard, Lieutenant. I’m Lieutenant–Commander Maram. This,” indicating an attractive female officer beside him, “is Junior Lieutenant Miriam Sabran. She’ll be your liaison officer during your stay with us.”

“Ma’am,” Steve acknowledged, shaking her hand in turn, followed by Brooks.

“
Lieutenant Sabran will show you to your quarters in our visitors wing, then escort you to the mess hall for lunch. We’ll hold a cross–training session this afternoon, and divide you into teams to accompany our boarding and search parties tomorrow morning.”

“
Aye aye, Sir.”

After lunch, Miriam, as she insisted Steve and Brooks call her, told them more about what they’d be doing. “This afternoon we’ll have some of our experienced search team leaders talk with you about the tricks our local smugglers use to get things onto and off the planet. We’ll also do a few practical exercises, to show you the kinds of hiding places they contrive. We’re looking forward to your people showing us how smugglers on other planets in this Sector are doing it, in case there’s something we haven’t encountered locally. After that we’ll divide you into six groups. Tomorrow we’ll send out one group aboard each of our orbital patrol craft, to work alongside our own search teams. It’ll be nice to have the extra bodies — the searches will go much faster with more people to do them.”

She looked at Brooks. “I understand you’ve just joined your ship. Have you done much of this sort of thing before?”

“
No, I haven’t,” Brooks confessed. “I’ve got a lot to learn, but Steve’s helped to train my Marines. He has a lot more experience.”

“
I spent six months aboard a heavy patrol craft at Radetski as part of a United Planets peacekeeping mission,” Steve explained. “Boarding and search was one of our duties. We found a big smuggled arms shipment while we were there. We’ve also learned a lot from working with some of the other planets in this sector over the past eight months, but this is the first time we’ve worked with Midrash forces.”

Miriam nodded enthusiastically. “That’s great! I’m sure we’ll learn as much from you as you learn from us. We’ve got two problems here. There’s a lot of smuggling of exotic, controlled goods for our luxury market, particularly from ecologically sensitive planets. There’s also some laundering of stolen goods and hard assets, transshipped from other planets. They often pass through here on their way to other destinations before news of their theft can reach us, so we don’t know to be on the lookout for them.”

“What about piracy?” Steve asked.

She shook her head. “We’ve seen very little of it locally, although some other planets in this Sector have had a rough time. In the last decade, only three pirate vessels tried anything in our system. Two got blown out of space, and the third fled empty–handed. That’s helped to keep things peaceful. On the other hand, from time to time we’ve detected goods being smuggled through our system to other destinations that were known to have been aboard ships taken by pirates elsewhere. There’s clearly some sort of tie–in between pirates and smugglers in this part of the settled galaxy, but precisely what it is we haven’t been able to figure out yet.”

“We’ll see if we can break something open for you,” Brooks promised.

The orientation and cross–training session proved useful for both sides. Lieutenant–Commander Maram put his finger on one important point.

“You divide your teams in half,” he observed. “While some of you — usually Spacers — are investigating nooks and crannies, others — usually Marines — are covering them. Why is that?”