A crew of six was actually more than most traders carried, but not enough so to create suspicion.
“As I’m sure you figured out from the appearance of this ship,” he began as soon as they’d introduced themselves, “we will be on an undercover mission. Is there anyone here that doesn’t know the story of the Vir Rekesh? No? Good. Well, she’s been found, and we’re going to go get her.” An excited babble broke out, and Kas waited quietly until it subsided.
“The Rekesh is drifting unpowered in a system near the rim. The word is out, and the governments of every independent system, as well as the Glory and even the Alliance wants her. We have the advantage of knowing where she is, but they have the advantage of surrounding the system she’s in.”
“We’ll be loading three hundred people to crew the Rekesh, as well as civilians to decontaminate her and get her operational. They’ll spend the trip out in cold sleep. None of the independent systems would give us permission to pass military ships through their space, so we’re going to sneak in.”
“First,” he continued, “This is an undercover operation. There will be nothing regulation about it.” He flicked a glance at Fauss. Her frown of concentration faded as her lips thinned and her face darkened with anger. Uh-oh, Kas thought, but he continued, “From this moment on, you will not address me as 'Commodore' until we’re alongside the Rekesh. Call me ‘Captain’ or ‘Skipper’, or even ‘Boss’ like any other trader crew. You will use your first names. If we start now, we’ll get into the habit before we get to the independents.”
“Get rid of those uniforms. You’ll find shipsuits in your cabins. Your uniforms are to be sent ashore. Retain nothing that might indicate that you’re military. I’ll take your ident disks. Don't keep anything that says you’re Empire. The idea of staffing the ship with outerworlders was to make people think we’re from outside the Empire.”
“Hah!” said Bol. “The real reason for using outerworlders was because they wanted it done right!”
Kas frowned. “Would you like to explain that?”
“Sheol, Commodore. It's obvious. Those damned Innies are so effete and incompetent they had to come to us Outies! Why do you think they put you in charge, instead of some Innie fashion plate?”
Kas held his temper with an effort. “I’d like to discuss this with you further… after this meeting.”
He resumed, explaining Starhopper ’s apparent condition and the details of the mission. “We’ll make a detour to avoid stopping in any of the Glory’s systems. We’ll know for sure after Tera, Bol and I begin plotting our course. But we’ll stop in systems belonging to the Alliance and probably several Independent systems. All of them will be on guard so we don't sneak a salvage crew out to the Rekesh.”
The meeting broke up. Tera Fauss and Gran Telker were babbling excitedly to each other. Gran even gathered his courage and called Kas skipper, while blushing furiously. When no eruption was forthcoming, he visibly relaxed. Toj Kray and Edro Jans huddled wordlessly in their respective corners, ignoring overtures from the others. Bol Evers wanted to discuss lading details, but Kas put him off until later.
Tera Fauss was waiting outside his cabin when Kas arrived with Bol Evers. He sent Bol up to the bridge while he dealt with the obviously agitated astrogator.
He ushered Tera into his cabin. Her uniform was meticulously correct, with knife-edged creases. She was struggling to control her temper, red-faced, fidgeting, hands clenching and unclenching. He took his seat behind his small desk, and offered her a chair. She settled into it stiffly, obviously still fuming. “Want to tell me what you’re so angry about?” he asked.
She jumped to her feet. “He told you!' she shrilled. 'Captain Ter-Jacon sent you a message along with my record, so you’d have a bad opinion of me. I request an immediate transfer.”
Kas shrugged. “No,” he said quietly. “Your former Captain did not tell me anything about you. What makes you think he did?”
She looked suddenly confused. “He didn’t? I mean… I thought..” she took a deep breath. “I was so sure… All that about this mission not being regulation… Captain Ter-Jacon chewed me out.. ”
Kas nodded. “I understand. And I was warned that you were perhaps overly concerned with the letter of regulations.” She began to cloud up again, and Kas hurriedly continued. “I don’t know if I can replace you at this late date, but if you insist, I’ll try. Understand this. This mission is important to you. You’ve already been passed over for Commander once. One more time, and you’re out. You’ll spend the rest of your career guiding civilian freighters on milk runs. This mission is your chance to overcome those unfavorable fitness reports, and to put you back on the path of a Fleet career. Since it’s such an oddball operation, you’ll have no choice but to conquer your urges.”
She blushed but chewed at her lower lip in thought. “But sir,” she protested, “Regulations are important. They’re the rules we live by!”
Kas frowned impatiently. Tera should have learned this long ago. “They’re important, but they’re not inviolable. They’re more like guidelines. They’re not intended to cover all situations. Junior officers are taught to obey them implicitly because they lack the experience to decide whether an exception is appropriate. If you want to advance to Commander, you need to know when it’s necessary to throw the rulebook out the window and improvise.”
She reddened and opened her mouth to reply, but he held up a hand and continued, “This mission is a good one to teach you that lesson. It’s not traditional. It’s not even a traditional undercover intelligence mission. We’ll be making a lot of it up as we go.” He straightened. “Think about it. If you still want a transfer, let me know within eight standard hours. I’ll see what I can do.”
She was gnawing at her lower lip again with a pensive expression, lost in thought as she allowed herself to be ushered from his quarters. Now for the tougher one.
Kas called Bol to his cabin. “Would you care to explain your remarks?”
Bol shrugged. “There’s nothing to explain. The mission is risky, so they’re sending Outies. The only way they’d send Innies would be if it were for a parade. Everybody knows Outies get all the tough jobs.”
Kas expression turned grim. “Most of the three hundred fifty people in cold sleep will be Innerworlders. How would you like to climb into a cold sleep cabinet, knowing your survival depended upon six strangers getting you through hostile territory?”
He’d been thinking ever since Bol’s outburst in the meeting. “You were assigned to be my exec for this trip. But I don’t think I can use you. Hatred and bigotry are weaknesses. We can’t afford them.”
Bol jumped to his feet. “You’re calling me a bigot? They’re the bigots, constantly harassing and demeaning Outies. I thought for sure that you’d understand, but I guess you got that star by bootlicking and kowtowing to the damned Innies.” He was braced for a blast from Kas, but he was totally unprepared when Kas’ burst into laughter.
When he could compose himself, Kas shook his head. “Sorry. I was just thinking of all the negative fitness reports I’ve received.” He was overtaken by another fit of laughter, but after a moment, he forced himself to an icy calmness. “Bigots come in all flavors. I’m surprised you're still in the fleet, and a commander. You’ve never been stationed in an inner system, have you?”
“At any rate,” he continued, “I can’t use you, and I don’t want you. Get your gear together and report to the bachelor officer quarters on the base. You will remain there on quarters restriction until you receive further orders. You know too much about this operation to be just turned loose.”
Bol flushed, and his hands clenched. “Well, screw you, Commodore! I’m glad I’m not going. If the rest of the crew is bootlicking Innie lovers like you, I don’t belong with them. Someday, we’ll show these Innies — and the traitorous Outie kiss-ups like you!” He jumped to his feet, fists clenched at his sides.
Kas also rose, clamping down on his surging anger. He slowly unclenched his own fists. “You have your orders, Commander,' he said in a dangerous tone. 'Get off my ship!”
“That might have been a mistake, Commodore,” said the image of Captain Froud a few minutes later, “It wasn’t easy to find an outerworld officer with both warship and freighter experience senior enough to be your exec. I’m not sure we can find another.”
'Then get me an innerworlder,' Kas snapped. He took a deep breath, let it out with gusty sigh. 'I'm sorry, Captain. I'm still a bit angry But I won’t subject my crew to months of his hate-filled diatribes. I wouldn’t put it past him to sabotage the cold sleep units — he’s that bigoted.” He paused. “You know, using an innerworlder might not be a bad idea, if he’s not from a good family. There are a lot of innerworlders serving aboard traders. As long as he doesn’t have upper class mannerisms, an innerworlder could be an advantage.”
Captain Froud raised a skeptical eyebrow. “If you say so, Commodore. The fleet admiral ordered that you be given a free hand. Let’s see. You want us to find an innerworlder with both freighter and warship experience, senior
