captain veered away from policy, it was for good reason, and with the full understanding of not only what, but why he was doing so. The captain would never ‘wing it’ as Nathan had so frequently done.
Cameron turned the last corner before arriving at the bridge. She was mentally preparing to defend herself in front of the captain against any unjustified attacks that Nathan might launch at her. She would make sure that any decision the captain made was based on the truth, and not on the wild accusations of Lieutenant Nathan Scott.
Cameron’s determined pace suddenly slowed as she saw Nathan standing outside the entrance to the bridge. She was instantly curious as to why he was standing there, apparently waiting for her. But all she could bring herself to say was “Lieutenant.”
“I thought we should enter together,” Nathan said. “We are supposed to be a team, after all.”
The gesture surprised Cameron, but she wouldn’t let it show. “As you wish.”
They entered the captain’s ready room together. Only this time, as the senior officer, Nathan would announce their presence.
“Lieutenant Scott and Ensign Taylor, reporting as ordered, Sir.”
Both Nathan and Cameron raised their hands in salute.
“At ease,” the captain instructed, adding “close the door, please, Ensign.” He waited a moment for Cameron to close the door and return to stand at ease next to Nathan before he began. This time, his tone was far more formal than it had been in previous meetings.
“It has come to my attention that your performance in the flight training simulator has fallen far below acceptable levels. The report states that on multiple occasions you failed to act as a team; you let personal differences interfere with the timely performance of your duties; and you failed to achieve the goals of the given scenario on at least thirty percent of your simulations.” Captain Roberts leaned back in his chair. “Thirty percent? Hell, I should’ve canned you both at five percent.”
“Sir, I take full responsibility for our poor performance,” Nathan said.
“Well that’s certainly admirable, Lieutenant. But I don’t remember asking for your opinion just yet.” The captain sat there staring at Nathan, waiting for him to say something else. But Nathan only swallowed, hard. He looked at Cameron next, but her eyes were staring straight ahead, and as usual, her expression was cold and emotionless.
“I spent the majority of what should’ve been my rack time last night, reviewing the video logs of your simulations. And I have to say that I am appalled. In fact, I’m not really sure which one of you I should be chewing out. Hell, if you two were married I’d be advising you both to seek divorce lawyers.”
Captain Roberts got up and walked around to the front of his desk, just as he usually did when he was trying to make a point. Only this time, he stood in front of his desk instead of sitting. He folded his arms in front of his chest, looking long and hard at each of them.
“Normally, I’d send you both packing and call up any cadets that have passed their sim qualifiers to replace you. But since we’re due to start trials in a few days, I don’t have that luxury. I know the two of you can fly this ship. And since I’m going to be on that bridge telling you what to do, all you have to do is execute my orders,” he said. “And you will do so without hesitation. Is that clear?”
“Yes Sir,” they responded in unison.”
“And just in case, by some horrifying twist of fate, you should have to take action without orders, I’m going to give you some right now, so there will not be any confusion.” The captain turned to Nathan, speaking to him directly. “Lieutenant. You shall follow standard flight operational protocols, without deviation, unless you are one hundred-no, make that one hundred and fifty percent sure that doing so would result in unacceptable risk to this ship or her crew. Is that understood?”
“Yes Sir!” Nathan answered.
The captain then turned his attention to Cameron. “Ensign Taylor. You are the ship’s Navigator. That means you plot her course. But it also means that you do whatever is necessary to help the helmsman fly this ship. Yes, it is your job to offer alternatives. But if the helmsman says he wants to fly this ship into the sun, you’d damned well better give him the course he asked for before you offer alternatives. Is that understood?”
“Yes Sir!” Cameron responded, swallowing hard.
“Dismissed, Ensign.”
Cameron snapped a salute, turning and exiting in proper military fashion. Nathan continued to stand, frozen, wondering what would come next. Apparently, the captain had a bit more butt chewing specifically targeted at him.
The captain waited for Ensign Taylor to leave before continuing. “Lieutenant, I think we have a bit of a misunderstanding going on here. I’m pretty sure that when I made you helmsman, I put you in command of the flight team. Granted, at least for now that only means you’re in command of Ensign Taylor, but you are in command. That’s why I made you a lieutenant in the first place. But after watching you two love birds squabbling in my flight simulator for the last few days, I’m not so sure that was the right call.” Something he had just said triggered a thought in Captain Roberts head. “Wait, you two aren’t, I mean, you’re not together, are you?”
“No Sir,” Nathan protested.
“You don’t want to be, do you?” The captain knew he was probably over-stepping his bounds, as there were no set rules against such fraternization, as long as it didn’t interfere with one’s duties. But it would’ve explained a lot.
“God no, Sir,” Nathan reassured him.
“Good.” The captain breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that he had just dodged a bullet. “Just make sure you keep it that way.”
“No problem, Sir.”
“Listen, Lieutenant, the most important part of being in command, is being able to make the call when it needs to be made. Now there’s nothing wrong with listening to the advice of your subordinates. And there’s certainly nothing wrong with admitting that they’re right and following that advice. But you do not debate the issue, Lieutenant. Not on the flight deck. That’s what briefing rooms are for, son. Just remember, right or wrong, any decision made too late, is a bad decision.”
The captain rose from his desk and made his way back to his chair. “Now I suggest that you go and work things out with Ensign Taylor before you turn in for the night. I don’t want to find you lying in Medical later with a knife in your back.”
“Yes Sir.”
“Now fix this, Lieutenant, or I will.”
“Yes Sir,” he assured, snapping a salute.
The Aurora’s hangar bay was only dimly light, allowing just enough light so that a person could make their way through safely. Although the facility was finished and ready for operations, the Aurora’s spacecraft and flight personnel were not due to arrive until well after the first shakedown cruise. For now, the massive space was being used as a staging area for components and supplies waiting to be installed or put into storage.
Nathan wandered between the stacks of boxes and equipment. “Taylor!” he called out. “I know you’re in here!” He was lying, as he wasn’t really sure she was there. He had gone to her quarters after leaving the captain’s ready room, looking to make peace with her. He nearly had to order her roommate to divulge her location. Even then, she was only guessing that Cameron had come here, as it was one of the few places still left on the ship where she could be alone with her thoughts.
“Come on, Cameron! We need to talk!”
“What the hell do you want?” she finally answered.
Nathan spun around, trying to locate where her voice had come from. “Where are you?”
“Back here.”
Nathan looked toward her voice. She was sitting on one of the rolling step ladders normally used for accessing the cockpit of fighters. There were a row of twelve of them neatly arranged against the far wall of the hangar. She was sitting at the top of one of the middle ones.
“What are you doing in here?” he asked as he approached.
“This is where I come to think.” Her voice had a melancholy he hadn’t heard from her before. “But you must’ve talked to my roommate to find me, so you already know that.” She was being logical, as usual.
