to take out the Maury.'
'A lot of other people believe it. I saw some public opinion polls.'
And what's true sometimes isn't nearly as important as what people believe to be true. There's been wars fought in the past because of that. But, dammit, if I'm going to fight a war I'd like there to be a solid reason for it. 'Randy, a lot of people are being told that right now. Hopefully everyone'll have time to think things through before rushing off to avenge the Maury.'
'I'd think if anybody'd want to get even with them, it'd be you!'
Paul stared back at Diego for a long moment, fighting down a wave of anger before he replied. 'If they did it, I want them to pay for it. But I don't want to start a war because some people didn't want to wait until we got answers.'
'But if Jen had-'
' That's my business. Not yours.' And I'm getting pretty tired of people trying to leverage my relationship with Jen.
It was Randy's turn to stare, blinking at the uncharacteristic outburst from Paul. Then he flushed a bit, shrugged, and turned away. 'Sure.'
Paul gritted his teeth, concentrating on relaxing. 'Sorry I blew up like that.' He was out the hatch of the stateroom before Randy could reply.
Combat didn't seem to offer much refuge any more, and the wardroom was likely to have some of the officers from the Maury hanging out to kill time. Paul wandered through the ship, wishing they were docking at Franklin right now instead of the next morning.
'Mr. Sinclair?'
Paul looked up to see Senior Chief Kowalski regarding him, and realized he was right outside the chiefs' quarters. 'Hi, Senior Chief.'
'You doing okay, sir?'
'I think so, Senior Chief.'
'May I ask how Ms. Shen is doing, sir?'
Paul smiled. He knew Senior Chief Kowalski had always respected Jen. 'She's about as okay as she can be. I think. You know.'
'I understand, sir. Helluva thing.'
'She's glad she managed to get assigned some paperwork, but, uh…' Oh, hell, I shouldn't discuss this with the senior chief.
But Kowalski nodded. 'She don't feel too welcome in engineering, right, sir?'
'How'd you know?'
'Sailors, sir. Superstition. Ms. Shen survived while the rest of the Maury 's engineering department got wiped out. There's people who worry about that.'
Paul stared. 'Like she's cursed or something?'
'No one's saying that, sir, and I sure as hell ain't saying it. But, it's there.'
Maybe that's why Destin didn't want Jen working for her. 'I don't believe it. She's not exactly unscathed by the experience, and now they want to slap some sort of scarlet letter on her to keep her out of the work she loves and knows best?'
Senior Chief Kowalski held his hands up in a calming gesture. 'Sir, I wouldn't get all upset. It won't help. I'm just telling you so you'll maybe understand a bit better and help Ms. Shen through it. It'll pass. Ms. Shen's one fine officer. You know that. She'll do okay.'
Paul nodded. 'Thanks for caring, Senior Chief. I wish I could do more.'
'Me, too, sir. For her and a lot of other people.'
'Yeah.'
It felt very odd, coming into port this time. No festivities, despite some joy at the Michaelson 's return. No one wanted to look like they were celebrating while the survivors of the Maury filed off the ship. 'We'll be staying at temporary barracks near the shipyard section of the base,' Jen told Paul. 'When Captain Halis brings the Maury in, we'll be there to start putting her back together.'
First aboard the Michaelson was the Fleet Commander. Bells bonged, bosun whistles wailed and sideboys snapped to attention as the admiral boarded to talk personally to the Maury 's survivors. Right after the admiral came what seemed like an army of others — chaplains and secular counselors to deal with trauma, Navy technical investigators to interview the survivors from the Maury and members of the Michaelson 's crew, shipyard workers to assess the state of the Michaelson, check her for exterior damage from the Maury 's debris field, and determine how much maintenance she'd need to be fully capable again.
Paul found himself in Kris Denaldo's stateroom again, this time not only with Jen but with a chaplain who extended her hand in greeting. 'Mary Hughes. I'm here to talk with Ms. Shen, and it was suggested that you be present as well.'
'Okay, Commander Hughes.'
'Mary.'
'Yes, ma'am. Uh… Mary.'
They sat, close in the confines of the women's ensign locker, Jen sitting with the rigid correctness of an officer in a formal meeting with a superior. The chaplain leaned back a bit and smiled at her. 'Ideally, this sort of thing should happen within a few days of the event. We couldn't do that this time for obvious reasons. I understand Paul was able to give you some comfort immediately afterwards, at least.'
Jen flicked a glance at Paul, who made an expression meant to convey 'I didn't tell her that.' Then she focused back on the chaplain. 'Ma'am, immediately after the… event I was focused on saving the lives of the sailors trapped with me in the aft end of the ship. I didn't see Mr. Sinclair until some time after that.'
'I'm sorry. I should've stated that differently. Could you please tell me what happened to you? I mean, just before and after the event.'
'The explosion, you mean.' Paul saw the muscles in Jen's jaw tighten for a moment. 'I've already provided statements about that. I can get you copies.'
'I'd prefer to hear it from you.'
Jen blew out a breath in apparently barely controlled exasperation. 'All right. I was ordered aft to check out a malfunctioning power coupling.'
'Ordered by…?'
'The-' Jen paused to take another breath. 'Chief Engineer.'
'Commander Juko?'
'Yes. He sent me aft, told me to see what I could figure out from looking at the thing directly because we kept getting odd fluctuations in the remote readings.'
'Why'd he send you? Because he trusted you?'
'Yes.' Jen smiled for the first time, though defiantly. 'I'd just cleared the after survival bulkhead when…. whatever happened happened. It blew a lot of holes in the bulkhead, too many to patch. I gathered what intact survival suits and survivors I could find, took them to an interior compartment to await rescue, and when conditions began to look critical I went looking for help.'
The chaplain waited several seconds after Jen stopped talking. 'That's all?'
'That's all.'
'You must have been severely affected by the explosion, even before you knew how bad it had been.'
'I was worried,' Jen admitted. 'But I didn't have time to dwell on it. I had a job to do. That's all I thought about.'
'But later, sitting in that interior compartment, there was time to think then. Time to feel.'
Jen shook her head, her face unyielding. 'I was focused on keeping those sailors alive. That's all I thought about.'
'What you had to do to save them?'
'That's right.'
'You didn't think about yourself?'
'Only to the extent that I needed to stay calm and in charge.'
