“I invited him,” Kris said. With that, Jack half ushered, half shoved the red-faced officer out of the room. The last Marine out closed the door.
Kris now turned to her officers. “Okay, let’s talk. Now that you’ve lived with the app that lets doors show up where we’ll never know, what problems have you identified, and what do you think we should do about them?”
Kris heard no surprises. The list of problems was what you’d expect to hear when men and women worked hard in close proximity. Admiral Benson was kind enough to point out that he was facing them at the shipyard where most of his personnel were civilian and living under looser rules.
Captain Kitano summed it up for all. “They’re grown-ups. They’re going to live or die because of what the Sailor or officer next to them does. They know it as well as we do. So, if they want to be treated as grown-ups, why shouldn’t we let them?”
“There are reinforcements coming, only a few systems out,” Sims of the Constellation said. “Shouldn’t we wait for them to establish policy?”
“We’ve been living with this for a lot longer than they have,” another skipper said. “Let’s do it and let them adjust to us. The more that show up, the more likely we are to get people like Sampson.”
“Besides, the commodore didn’t wait to get any chops on her marriage request,” someone in the back tossed in. It sounded like an old chief.
“Pipe down, or that Marine that frog-marched Sampson out of here may do you next,” an XO snapped.
Kris frowned; was she losing control of the meeting?
Kitano stood up. “Enough of that. Commodore Longknife had a narrow window when she could do what she wanted, and it wasn’t illegal. She grabbed it. I don’t know about you, but I like her style. She’s offering us a similar window. I say we take it.”
The room seemed to mull that over for a few seconds, then sounds of agreement filled the wardroom.
“If we’re going to suspend one set of Navy regs, we need to put something in its place,” Kris said. “I hate to do this, but I need a committee. Two or three skippers. Two from each of the rest of you: XOs, engineering, Marines. Chiefs. This policy will be yours to manage. I want the command senior chief and Gunny from each frigate working on this.”
“I think we need two from Weapons and two from Deck Division,” Captain Kitano tossed in.
“Okay,” Kris said. “I want names on my desk in an hour. I want a rough draft on my desk by 0800 tomorrow. If that means some folks miss a night’s sleep, so be it.”
Kris walked out while the skippers were volunteering either themselves or someone of their teams.
Jack was waiting for her outside.
“Sorry about not being there immediately. Nelly called, and I came running as fast as I could grab four stray Marines.”
“Nelly, thanks for the initiative, and Jack, thanks for the help. Where is our failed skipper?”
“I had the Marines escort Sampson to the brig to cool off. Once we had her in the passageway, she blew up. She started shouting stuff that, if I’d heard it, might make me have to bring her up on charges for Unbecoming and Prejudicial.”
“She did that to me last time we talked. Have a medical officer drop down to check her out in the brig. I have to wonder if something’s wrong with her.”
“Besides being just plain wrongheaded?”
“Yes.”
Superintendent Benson slipped out of the meeting. “Sorry about that. Sampson got away from her desk when I wasn’t looking. I’d heard you were back and figured you’d be trying to solve this matter. As soon as I spotted her missing, I came.”
“Thanks for the support. Tell me, in your previous incarnation as an admiral, and considering that an admiral might be included in the reinforcements headed our way, how would you take to what is going on here and what I’m doing?”
Admiral Benson, ret., rolled his eyes at the overhead. “I’d probably have an epileptic fit, to tell you the truth. Sampson’s problem is that she’s old school, like I was. We don’t handle some leadership challenges very well.”
“But you’ve got a similar situation at the yard.”
“Yes, but as I keep reminding myself, I’m a civilian, and so are those working for me. None of us have to get a laser on target the first time, every time. Don’t get me wrong. I never faced any leadership challenge like you’re up against, so I’m not going to tell you that you’re wrong. It’s just not something I would ever do.”
He paused, then looked Kris hard in the eye. “That’s likely one of the reasons why King Ray chose you for command here and not one of the more senior types around.”
Which gave Kris pause. Had her Grampa Ray once more handpicked her for one of his worst messes?
“Thank you, sir,” Kris said, “for your advice and guidance.”
“It’s worth every penny you paid for it. Now, where’s my gal, and how much will it cost me to bail her out?”
“She’s in the brig, Superintendent,” Kris said, “but I’d really like to have a medical officer look her over before we turn her loose. I’d hate to discover six weeks from now that she had a brain tumor, and we didn’t spot it after she acted up like that.”
“A brain tumor would be easier to handle than her just being old-line,” the former admiral said as he headed down to the brig.
“So, you got any more hand grenades to toss today, my lovely Viceroy and Sector Commander?” Jack asked.
“Nope, I can’t think of a thing more to do. Oh, when’s the Wasp due in with our prize? Have we arranged for it to dock?”
“I have arranged a dock for the Wasp,” Nelly said. “I’m assuming we’ll park the wreck in a trailing orbit fifty klicks behind the station.”
“Another well done, Nelly. Gosh, Jack, what can we do with ourselves?”
“How about me take you to dinner on the station?” Jack suggested. “It’s been a while since I had a date with my wife.”
45
Dinner with Jack was beyond nice. They were ushered to a quiet corner and left alone for the evening. The meal was unrecognizable, but Kris enjoyed what the chef had done with meat, roots, and sprouts that had never seen Earth’s sun. And there was a band.
They danced to tunes from the present to long before humanity ventured from its home. “You know, we don’t have our song,” Jack said.
“I’m sure we’ll find one sooner or later,” Kris assured him.
They returned to Kris’s quarters and soon needed a shower. “You know, you have your quarters and I’m down a deck and around the other side, but I really don’t think we’ve quite got the spirit of the policy correct,” Jack whispered in Kris’s ear as he scrubbed her back.
“We’ll see what the policy is tomorrow,” Kris said, and started on his front.
Still, before 2100, Jack was on his way to his quarters and Kris was back at her desk going through reports. One caused her pause. Professor Labao thought they had matched the star fields that always decorated the overhead of sacred places on the alien ships. If true, it was about three thousand light-years back the way Kris and the Fleet of Discovery had come.
Interesting.
Kris pondered what to do. Knowledge was power. Would a visit to the alien home world give them power? Would any ship dispatched on such a recon mission survive? Kris would have to balance the risk against the return.
If she did choose to send someone, who should it be?
It would be nice to give Sampson another ship and get her out of Kris’s hair. The problem was, she was more likely to take off for home, whining all the way, rather than risk her neck to answer any questions.
Kris could think of at least one person who was good at asking and answering questions. The only question was, could she risk her?