tap he'd given at the forwardmost bulkhead. Why do we do that, anyway? Funny ritual or superstition or whatever. It's like we're checking to make sure the last thing between us and empty space is really there. Or reassuring ourselves that those last barriers aren't ready to implode. Well, whatever the reason, like Chief Imari says, it can't hurt.
A bit worn from the tour of the Michaelson, Paul finally made his way to the officers wardroom. Inside the small compartment with the grand name, Lieutenant Sindh sat at the table sipping a drink labeled 'chai — decaf — non-dairy — official issue — zero g.' She looked up as Paul entered, waving a small greeting. 'You look a little tired.'
'Just took a tour of the ship.' As he headed for the coffee, Paul flipped a half-salute toward Lieutenant Sindh. 'I have the pleasure to report to the command duty officer that the ship is all secure, ma'am.'
Sindh solemnly returned the salute. 'Thank you, Mr. Sinclair. Paul, you don't have to check every compartment on the ship multiple times every duty day.' Paul busied himself with the coffee to avoid answering. 'It happened once. It wasn't your fault. I appreciate your thoroughness, but also fear you're driven by guilt you shouldn't carry.'
Paul shrugged, still not looking her way. That's easy for her to say. She wasn't on duty when that fire started. She wasn't on duty when Chief Asher died. And she didn't get implicated as part of the cause in the initial investigation. The fact that the investigation's conclusions had been reached by his girlfriend's father still rankled even though those conclusions had been subsequently disproved. However, a friend like Sonya Sindh deserved some consideration for her concern. 'It's okay. Really.'
'There's much you've never shared about how that incident affected you, Paul. I'm a lay minister. We can talk.'
Paul grinned at her. 'Not my religion, Sonya. But thanks, anyway. For what it's worth, I've talked it over with Jen.'
'Ah. That's worth something.' Sindh smiled. 'But both you and the inexhaustible Lieutenant Jen Shen are very close to the problem. A third party's advice might be of help.'
'I've also talked it over with Commander Herdez a few times.'
Sindh's eyebrows shot up. 'Our former Executive Officer From Hell as trauma counselor? I assume our old XO recommended hard work at least twenty hours every day as the best means to recover from your experience?'
This time, Paul laughed. 'I think she actually recommended at least twenty-two hours a day of hard work. Minimum.'
Sindh's smile widened. 'It's good to hear she's not slacking off while on shore duty. Everyone else should suffer as we did. Have you seen this?' she asked, indicating her data pad's screen.
Paul came closer to peer at the information. 'Orders for someone?' He read through the standard format, looking for the key pieces of information. Lieutenant Sonya Sindh… when directed detach from USS Michaelson (CLE(S)-3), proceed to Joint Forces Training Command, Norfolk, Virginia… upon arrival report Commanding Officer for duty. 'Oh. You're leaving'
'In about a month. Aren't you happy for me?'
Paul settled into the nearest chair, pushing aside the straps officers used to fasten themselves into their seats while the Michaelson was underway and no longer benefiting from Franklin's induced gravity. 'I am. But you're a friend and a good officer, so I hate to see you go.'
She smiled. 'If you really thought of me as a friend you'd be thrilled I was heading for nice, relaxing shore duty. Earthside shore duty! Blue sky! Atmosphere! Constant gravity!'
'Insects. Bad weather. Pollen.'
'Real food.'
'That's a big one. Okay, I'm happy for you. But, you know, it's hard to see people leave the ship. We're kind of a-'
'Please don't say 'family.'' It was Sindh's turn to shrug. 'Officers come, officers go. That's the Navy. We're on our third captain since you reported aboard, and our second executive officer.'
'Yeah, but I don't work directly with the CO and XO like I do with you or the other junior officers.'
'Look at it this way. Someday our fellow junior officer and dear friend Sam Yarrow will also leave. Isn't that nice?'
Paul laughed. 'I don't know what I'll do when I don't have to worry about Smilin' Sam sliding a knife into my back.'
'I'm sure you'll find plenty of things to fill your time,' Sindh observed dryly.
Another laugh. 'Oh, yeah. And if I don't, I'm sure Garcia will help.'
Sindh took another drink, then made a face. 'I'll also be able to get real chai again Earthside, instead of whatever this stuff is that they feed us. I wonder what real coffee will taste like after years of Navy coffee? But I digress. Paul, the job of a department head is to keep junior officers gainfully employed. Commander Garcia just happens to be a little bit incendiary in his approach to that.'
'Incendiary? Hell, Sonya, there's been times I was sure he was going to strangle me for making him look bad because I'd screwed something up. And that's just when I screw up in my primary job as CIC Officer. Garcia hates my collateral duty with a passion.'
'Duty?' Sindh looked up questioningly. 'You have more than one collateral duty.'
'Yeah, but the one that torques Garcia off is the legal officer job. You know that. He hates the time I have to spend on it and he hates that I go directly to the Captain or XO for stuff related to ship legal matters.'
'If you'd manage to stay away from courts-martial for a few months at a stretch it wouldn't be such a burden and Garcia wouldn't be so sensitive about it.' Sindh grinned again.
Paul smiled back. 'It's been six months since the last court-martial. I'm not planning on getting involved in any more.'
'You didn't plan on getting involved in the first two. Or did you? I ought to ask Jen. She'll know the truth. And, speaking of Jen, is she coming over tonight?'
Paul's smile turned rueful. 'No. Jen's got duty, too. The Maury 's gone to three sections, so Jen's got duty every third day.'
'Three sections? That's not pleasant. What happened?'
'They're trying to get the Sorry Maury working after that yard period. The modifications to engineering are driving Jen nuts. She's working overtime because of them.'
'Paul, we're space warfare officers. We always work overtime.' Sindh let out a sigh. 'I was hoping Jen could bring some carry-out onboard so we wouldn't have to eat wardroom food tonight. Not that carry-out on the station is that great, but it's better than rations.'
'Nope. I guess we're stuck with Navy cuisine.'
Lieutenant Sindh paused in thought, then tapped her data unit. 'Chief Imari. Do you have a meal run planned? I expected as much. Please contact Mr. Sinclair and myself prior to the run so we can place orders as well. Thank you.' She settled back with a satisfied smile. 'When in doubt, always check with the chiefs. They may've already solved your problem.'
Paul rose and bowed toward her. 'Thank you, Master. I still have much to learn.'
Sindh smiled and made a brief bow back. 'Much more than you realize, Grasshopper.'
About twelve hours later, Paul rolled out of his bunk, taking care to keep his body low so he wouldn't hit any of the pipes and ducting positioned just above his sleeping area. Yawning as he pulled on his uniform, Paul gave the digits on his watch a sour look. Half-an-hour until midnight, and I'm getting up to spend four hours standing watch. The glamorous life of a naval officer. Checking his appearance to make sure he looked fit to stand watch, Paul stumbled to the quarterdeck.
Petty Officer First Class Fontanelli was rubbing his eyes as Paul came up. 'Sir, I don't mind telling you that you're a sight for sore eyes.'
'Yeah. But you get to rest yours now and I don't. What's up?'
Fontanelli ran through the status of the ship, telling Paul nothing he didn't already know, advised that Captain Hayes and the ship's current executive officer, Commander Kwan, had both returned to the ship after taps, and closed his turnover with a warning to Paul that there'd been Franklin Station personnel conducting unannounced security checks of quarterdeck watches. Paul listened through it all, then straightened and raised his right hand, touching his brow in a casual salute. 'Okay. I got it.'
