''Yes, sir,'' Kris saluted. The wave she got in return might have been aimed at an annoying insect.
Kris turned back to her troops. They looked as stunned as she felt. If that was what passed for leadership around here… But that was not their problem. The rain was coming down harder, and Kris looked to be the only officer around that gave a damn about them.
''Petty officers, fall out and call the names on those duffel bags,'' Kris ordered. On that bit of guidance, the troops got organized. Kris set up a smooth flow as troops collected their duffels, lugged them into the office building in front of them where Admin took up the ground floor. From there they moved to the armory to draw their web gear and weapons. With no bunching up, her new arrivals proceeded fairly smoothly to their quarters and from there to chow. Of course, the last to have their name called would be soaked to the bone.
As luck would have it, the two other ensigns' names were called very quickly. They took their gear and headed inside. Kris's bag was also called early. She made a note of where it lay in the mud and stayed with her shrinking command, taking over from a name-caller when he found his own bag. With a pained expression, Tom took the place of the second caller to find her duffel. When the last person's name was called, Tom and Kris followed the sopping-wet spacer into Admin, their own ‘waterproof' boots squishing and contributing a liter or two to the deep pools flooding the tiled hall.
''Did we have to do that?'' Tommy asked.
''Grampa Trouble would have tanned my hide if I'd left them out there alone in the rain.''
''No one in my family would have complained. What do you say next time we flip on it? Heads we follow my family, tails we do it your way.''
''You two are late. I finished with those other officers an hour ago,'' a hulking first-class petty officer whined. ''You're making me late for dinner.''
''You would have had to wait for all these,'' Kris waved at the rest of the crew checking in.
''Nope, I just had to wait for you officers. Colonel told me to make sure you got your quarters, orders, and chits. Then I'm done for the day.''
''Thought the Colonel suggested we work sunup to sundown. It was safer,'' Tommy pointed out.
''Who wants to live safe? Listen, there's a lot of desperate women out there. Amazing what a little hard cash can buy.'' The first-class glanced at the papers he was handing Kris. ''Oh, right, you're a Longknife. You can always buy anything,''
Kris signed her chit and kept her money to herself. ''Where's the leading chief, the armory, and the chow hall?''
''You're looking at the closest thing we got to a leading chief, ma'am. We enlisted swine ain't drawing half pay during this cluster fuck. Nobody comes here ‘less they pissed somebody off big time.''
''And you?'' Kris asked.
He ignored the question. ''The armory is across the way in the short quarters. The chow hall's in the tall one. They close in thirty minutes, so I'd shag my ass over there pronto.''
''Thanks for the advice.'' Kris looked at her orders. ''I'm reporting direct to Colonel Hancock?''
''Hardcock wants to keep down the overhead. Besides, he ain't got all that many officers. Couple of do-gooders. Most senior officers would rather go on half pay than go here. You'll see soon enough. Now, I'm done, and I'm out of here.'' He turned for the door. ''Somebody turn off the lights when you're done.''
Tom stuffed his orders and chits into the pockets of his battle dress. ''It's so nice working among happy people. Think it'll get better?''
Kris stowed her paperwork, then hefted her duffel. ''Don't know, but I think I'll draw a rifle and side arms first, then risk eating.'' Kris drew web gear, rifle, and side arm, stowed her gear in her room, locked her rifle down in the floor's weapons bay, and raced into the chow line five minutes before it closed down for the night. What they slapped on her tray would win no awards, except maybe from a pig swill purchaser, but it filled an empty stomach. She and Tom were just getting the first forkful in their mouths when their beepers went off. Kris waved Tommy to keep eating. She had a strong suspicion what this was all about.
''Ensigns Longknife and Lien here. What can we do, sir?''
''What the hell's keeping you two?'' Colonel Hancock growled.
''Just enjoying a delicious, nutritious meal, sir, in the dining hall. Exactly what a growing girl needs, Colonel.''
''I told you to report to me as soon as you were done.'' Tommy started to get up. Kris waved him back to his seat.
''Yes sir, I planned to do that, sir. We saw that the new arrivals were processed properly, got our assignments and chits, drew our web gear and weapons, stowed our gear and got our weapons locked down, and were just enjoying the first mouthful of this wonderful meal they're serving in your dining hall, sir. We should be with you in another thirty minutes.''
''What are you going to do, take a walk in the moonlight?''
''Might, sir. It's actually stopped raining for the last two minutes.'' Tommy's eyes were bugging out. Kris just smiled.
''Longknife, get your ass over here in fifteen minutes or keep walking.''
''Understood, Colonel. See you in fifteen minutes.'' Kris said, punched off, and reached for her second bite of dinner.
''We can be there in five.'' Tommy gulped.
''And add heartburn to our problems? Nope, I'm eating it nice and careful.''
''Like a Longknife?''
Kris studied her tray as she chewed unidentifiable and probably indigestible food. ''Don't know. Maybe I am letting myself be guided too much by a couple of Grampa Trouble's sea stories. But, Tom, when you draw hell for a billet, you can either run with the demons or run at them. Got an opinion?''
''One who battles with demons needs a dragon at her side.''
''Is that some old Irish saying?''
''No, mine, based on spending too much time too close to you.''
Kris rapped on Colonel Hancock's door exactly fifteen minutes after she rang off. He was seated, feet up on his desk, face in a reader. She and Tommy filed in and came to attention in front of his boots. He glanced up, took in a clock on the wall, then went back to his reader. ''Took you long enough.''
''Yes, sir,'' Kris answered.
''The warehouse is a shambles,'' the Colonel said, not looking up from his reader. ''Straighten it up. For some reason, we're only issuing bags of rice and beans to the people hereabouts. There's got to be a better diet in that warehouse. Find it.''
''Yes, sir,'' Kris said. Waited. Nothing further happened.
She saluted the Colonel's boots; Tom joined her. Colonel Hancock threw her another wave. She led Tom in an about face, and they marched from the office.
''What was that all about?'' Tom repeated his earlier question of the evening.
''A game,'' Kris said.
''Do you know the score?''
''I think we're ahead on points,'' Kris guessed. ''Where's the warehouse?'' Nelly had no answer to that question, so Kris went looking for the duty section. Down the hall from the Colonel's office they found what might be one…two guys sleeping in their desk chairs. ''Where's the warehouse?'' Kris asked. Twice.
One woke up, looked around, saw Kris, reached for a sheet of paper, and tossed it her way. Kris eyed it; it did show an arrangement of streets. She rotated it slowly, trying to match the streets to what she had seen on the drive in. The map worked best if you held the paper at a thirty degree angle. ''Looks about two blocks that way,'' Kris concluded.
''You going there tonight?'' the only slightly awake sleeping beauty asked, getting comfortable again in his chair.
''Planned to,'' Kris answered.
''Take your pistols.''
Kris left the two to their dreams.
''A sloppy bunch. Think we should have woken them up?'' Tom asked.