Honor Among Enemies

actually on their first deployments. I know they can handle the responsibility and do the job, but they're both only second-class techs.'

'You want to put a second-class tech in a senior chiefs slot?' Honor asked in a very careful voice, and Tschu nodded.

'I know it sounds crazy, Ma'am, but my watch bills are awful fragile. I've already made a lot of assignments based on capability, not grade, because it was the only way to get the job done, but there's a limit to how much readjusting I can do without actually making the problem worse. If we bump the people I'm thinking about, it'll do the least overall damage to my assignments.'

'You don't have anyone senior you think could handle the slots?'

'No, Ma'am. Not really. Oh, I've got some really good people down there, I'm not trying to say they're all, or even most, a problem. But we're spread so thin, and spread out so widely, that, like Chief Riley, the ones with the necessary experience and, ah, intestinal fortitude are already in essential spots. I can't pull one of them without making another hole, and I don't have anyone to replace them with to plug the holes.'

'I see. Exactly which second classes are we talking about here?'

'Power Tech Maxwell and Electronics Tech Lewis, Ma'am,' Cardones put in, keying his memo board and glancing down at it. 'Both have first-rate marks from school, both have performed in exemplary fashion since coming aboard, and both of them are a bit old for their rates. That's because they only enlisted after the war started,' he added by way of explanation. 'Maxwell's a drive specialist; he was merchant service-trained, a drive room chief with the D&O Line, and he really just needed the Navy course for certification. He's good, Ma'am, really good. Lewis is a gravitics specialist. She doesn't have any prior experience, but I've taken a hard look at her record since coming aboard. She's solid, and Chief Riley speaks very highly of her, especially as a troubleshooter. Harry wants her to replace Riley in DCC and Maxwell for Impeller One. Frankly, I think they'd do very well in those slots, but neither one of them is anywhere near having the seniority to justify it to BuPers.'

'The Exec's right there, Ma'am,' Tschu said, 'but they're both really good, and they both have backbones. Neither one of them would back down from the bad apples.'

Honor rocked her chair back again and glanced at Nimitz and Samantha without really seeing them while she considered. The problem, as neither Cardones nor Tschu needed to tell her, was that she couldn't just take two second-class ratings and make them acting senior chiefs. If they were going to discharge their duties, they not only deserved the official grade to go with them, they needed it. There would be resentment enough from people they'd been jumped over, whatever happened; if they didn't receive the imprimatur of the rockers which normally went with the job, their moral authority would be suspect. But if Honor gave them those rockers, she'd have to be able to justify her actions.

The captain of a Queen's ship had broad authority to promote in the course of a deployment. Such promotions were 'acting' until the deployment's end, as the one she'd given Aubrey Wanderman. But their confirmation by BuPers at deployment’s end was almost automatic, with only the most cursory inspection of the individuals record and efficiency ratings, on the theory that a captain was competent to judge her peoples suitability for promotion.

Yet if Honor jumped a technician second class clear to senior chief, BuPers was going to ask some very tough questions. Some captains had been known to play the favoritism game, and that sort of sudden elevation was unheard of. She'd have to be able to justify it by the results she obtained, and that justification had better be strong. Worse, the only way BuPers could rectify any mistake on her part would be to reduce Maxwell and Lewis to what it considered appropriate rates, which would equate to demotion for cause. It wouldn't be called that in their personnel jackets, but that demotion would follow them for the remainder of their careers. Any officer who ever read those jackets would be likely to assume they had been promoted out of favoritism, and they'd have to work far harder than anyone else to prove they hadn't.

She pulled her eyes back from the 'cats and focused on Tschu once more. He was watching her anxiously, and his anxiety was a sign he fully recognized the implications of his request. But he also seemed confident he was on the right track, and, unlike Honor, he knew the individuals in question.

'You realize,' she said, since it had to be said, 'that you'll put these people, Maxwell and Lewis, in a very difficult spot?'

'Yes, Ma'am.' Tschu nodded without hesitation. 'I'd really prefer to simply make it an acting position, but...' He shrugged, indicating his own awareness of what Honor had already considered. 'As far as Maxwell is concerned, he knows his stuff A to Z, and my enlisted people know he does. They also know where he got his experience, and he's a big, tough customer. I doubt even Steil...' He paused. 'I doubt even the worst troublemaker would want to push anything with him. Lewis isn't all that imposing physically, but I honestly believe she has the greater leadership ability, and she's some kind of magician at troubleshooting. She's weaker on theory, but she's stronger than ninety percent of my other people even there. I wouldn't be surprised to see her go mustang in another ten years and wind up doing my job, Ma'am. Maybe sooner, with the quickie OCS programs BuPers is talking about setting up. She's that good.'

Honor simply nodded, but she was astonished by Tschu's estimate of Lewis' potential. The RMN had more 'mustangs' who'd started out enlisted and earned their commissions the hard way than most navies with an aristocratic tradition, but it was unheard of for someone to single out a mere second class on her very first deployment as a future officer. A brief suspicion that Tschu might have personal reasons for pushing Lewis flickered across her brain, but she dismissed it instantly. He wasn't the sort to get sexually involved with his enlisted personnel, and even if he had been, she surely would have sensed something from him through Nimitz.

The bottom line was that Harold Tschu was asking her to put her professional judgment on the line for two people she didn't even know. That took guts, since many captains would have delighted in taking vengeance on him if BuPers came down on them over it, but it didn't necessarily mean he was right. On the other hand, it was his department. Unlike Honor, he did know the people involved, and something had to be done. Every other department in the ship depended upon Engineering, and Damage Control would be absolutely critical in any engagement.

What it all really came down to, she mused, was how much faith she had in Tschu's judgment. In a sense, he'd backed her into a corner. She didn't blame him for it, but by proposing his solution, he'd given her only two options: agree with him, or disagree and, in so doing, indicate that she lacked faith in him. No one would ever know except her, Rafe, and Tschu himself... but that would be more than enough.

'All right, Harry,' she said at last. 'If you think this is the solution, we'll try it. Rafe,' she looked at Cardones, 'have Chief Archer process the paperwork by the turn of the watch.'

'Yes, Ma'am.'

'Thank you, Ma'am,' Tschu said quietly. 'I appreciate it.'

'Just go back down to Engineering and show me it was the right move,' Honor replied with one of her crooked smiles.

'I will, Ma'am,' the lieutenant commander promised.

'Good.'

The two officers rose to leave, and Samantha hopped from the table top to Tschu's shoulder. But she didn't swarm all the way up it. She paused, clinging to his upper arm, and looked back at Nimitz, who turned and glanced at Honor with laughing eyes.

'Are you up to carrying two 'cats, Mr. Tschu?' she asked dryly.

'I'm a Sphinxian, Ma'am,' the engineer replied with a small smile.

'That's probably a good thing,' Honor chuckled, and watched Samantha flow the rest of the way to his right shoulder. Nimitz followed a moment later, perching on Tschu's left shoulder, and a sense of complacency suffused his link to Honor.

'Just don't stay out late, Stinker,' she warned him. 'Mac and I won't wait supper, and we're having rabbit.'

Chapter THIRTEEN