“That’s it?” Edmund asked. “What kind of support?”
“Nothing more than we’re getting, really,” the mer admitted. “Some more weapons, maybe some support ships. But we’ll probably take more casualties.”
Edmund considered it for a moment and then nodded. “Tell Jason he has my permission to implement a plan to begin reducing the orca and ixchitl. But if he’s taking high levels of casualties, that is if he’s losing more than he’s killing, he’s to desist. Got it?”
“Yes, sir! Thank you, sir,” Asfaw replied.
“Don’t thank me, son,” Edmund sighed. “You’re just putting yourself in the way of more trouble.”
“Trouble, sir.” Chief Brooks sighed, collapsing in the chair across from Herzer.
Herzer looked out the window where one of the petty officers was conducting a class on knots.
“No riots,” Herzer chuckled. “Even over the food.”
“No, not so far, sir,” Brooks replied. “It’s a sexual harassment complaint.”
“Bloody hell.” Herzer sighed, leaning back. “Who?”
“Seaman, seawoman not to point too fine of a point on it, Regilio and Petty Officer Lenice.”
“Tell,” Herzer replied, rubbing his eyes.
“He was counseling her on her attitude, which is, frankly, crappy. She accused him of soliciting sex.”
“Did he follow the two man rule?” Herzer asked, not looking up.
“No, sir, he didn’t,” Brooks replied. “He said that he wanted to bring it up without a witness so she would have less of a tendency to back talk. Because then he’d have to get strictly official.”
“Send him back to the fleet,” Herzer said, dropping his hands and picking up a piece of paperwork.
“He’s one of the best instructors we have, sir,” Brooks argued.
“Not if he makes that simple an error,” Herzer said, looking up angrily and tossing the note back down on his desk. “I agree with his reasoning. But he can not put himself in that sort of a position with half-trained recruits. Recruits that don’t realize how serious the accusation is. Or how the accusation is going to haunt them for quite some time. How many people are automatically going to question… what was her name?”
“Regilio, sir.”
“Pamela,” Herzer replied, nodding with that reminder. “In the intel tech program. Good math scores. Red hair. Yes, bit of an attitude. Just about the last person up The Mast every morning.”
“That would be her,” Brooks sighed.
“People are going to know about it, people are going to talk,” Herzer said. “Lenice has been with the Fleet for a couple of years. Spotless record. No previous indication of tendency to use his rank for sex. So she’s automatically going to be viewed with suspicion. Even if he did, in fact, proposition her or try to force her to have sex. Which was why, Chief Brooks, he is going back to the fleet. Today. With a notation in his record that he is unsuitable for training cadre. And you’d better thoroughly brief his replacement. Am I making myself clear?”
“Clear, sir,” Brooks said, standing up. “Will that be all?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Herzer replied, picking up the paperwork again. “I’d rather it was riots. Oh, and pass this around. Don’t let anyone think this is an easy way back to the fleet. The next time this comes up, I’m coming down like the hammer of hell. All the bells and whistles. They do not want to make this mistake again. We don’t have the bodies to spare.”
“Good afternoon, Skipper Karcher,” Edmund said, waving at a chair. “Have a seat.”
“Good afternoon, sir,” Karcher replied, sitting down carefully. She had already had a look around the tent and was clearly surprised by its Spartan nature.
“Given that the headquarters was burned to the ground, I thought that we could use temporary accommodations,” Edmund said, noting the glances.
“Yes, sir,” Karcher replied. She had her captain’s hat in her lap and was working the brow with the thumbs of both hands.
“How’s your ship?” Edmund asked, smiling.
“Fine, sir,” Karcher said. “In all conditions ready for sea.”
“This isn’t an inquisition, Karcher.” Talbot chuckled. “I heard about your recommended change for the Silverdrake landings. It’s being implemented throughout the fleet.”
“One of my seamen came up with it, sir,” Karcher said. “Seaman Fink.”
“Good man?” Edmund asked.
“Woman, sir, and yes, she’s pretty good. She’s applied for dragon-rider training.”
Edmund pulled a sheet of paper over to him and scribbled on it.
“Approved,” Edmund said. “As long as you do.” He handed the sheet across to her. “What’s your XO like?”
“Good man, sir,” Karcher replied. “Better than me at celestial navigation. Getting there at general boat handling skills. I mean, he’s a good sailor, sir.”
“Could he take over the Black?”
Karcher paused at that and frowned. “Am I being relieved, sir?”
“I asked the first question,” Edmund replied.
“Yes, sir, he could.” Karcher sighed.
“Good,” Edmund said, handing her another sheet of paper. “You’ve just been appointed command of the Hazhir. The XO knows the ship but Shar doesn’t feel he’s up to commanding it, yet. I’ve looked at your record and I think you can.”
“Yes, sir,” Karcher replied, taking the paper as if it were incendiary. She slid it under her hat and continued working the brim, a bit harder.
“Just that, ‘yes, sir’?” Edmund asked, smiling.
“Thank you, sir?” Karcher said.
“You think you can handle it?” Edmund asked.
“No, sir,” Karcher said, honestly. “But I can give it my best shot. And I would guess that you’ve thought it over. I’d have expected that you’d transfer someone from one of the frigates or cruisers and that I’d get that, instead. But if you are willing to take the risk, I’ll do my damnedest.”
“Karcher, you’ve got more time at sea than half the frigate commanders.” Edmund sighed. “And, yeah, I gave it some thought. And some second thoughts. You know what clinched it?”
Karcher thought about that for a second and then shrugged.
“My saying that Fink had come up with the landing program?”
“Bingo,” Edmund replied. “That and your crew is loyal as hell. You can sail and you can lead. That’s a hard combination to find in this Navy. And you’re not afraid to say: ‘I don’t know, sir.’ That takes guts. Now we just have to find out if you can fight. Don’t prove me wrong.”
“No, sir,” Karcher replied. “I was just wondering…”
“I know your background,” Edmund said. “In fact, I probably know more about it than you do. Despite the fact that Changed are facing some very ancient prejudice, I don’t have it. Changed are humans just like those of us who look normal. I’ll except from that category the New Destiny Changed which have been programmed to be inhuman. You’re a good CO, you’re a good sailor and I have damned few people that fit both categories. I don’t care, quite frankly, if you eat live mice. That might have mattered under Draskovich, it doesn’t matter to me.”
“I don’t, sir,” Karcher said, then took a chance. “Well, hardly ever.”
“And I don’t fling shit,” Edmund said with a grin. “Well, hardly ever.”