'Sure thing.'
Paul spent the next few hours working through his to-do list, making sure nothing else would miss being done on time, then hustled to be outside the XO's stateroom prior to ten hundred. Sheriff Sharpe was already waiting, along with the familiar senior chief, who grinned in greeting. 'Howdy, Mr. Sinclair.'
'Hi, Senior Chief. What's your name anyway?'
The grin widened. 'Senior Chief Kowalski, sir. Leading chief on the Michaelson. That's why I'm here for XO's screening.'
'Right.' Paul nodded absently, trying to dredge up his memories of the XO screenings he'd attended during his limited fleet experience. Most violations of military rules and regulations weren't handled by courts-martial, but by Non-Judicial Punishment. NJP had its own rules and limitations, and allowed a commanding officer to deal with the great majority of breaches of good order and discipline in a quick and effective manner. But not every offense technically referred for NJP needed to be handled even in that fashion, which led to the XO's screening, where the executive officer reviewed each case and decided whether it should go on up to the Captain or could be disposed of without taking that step.
Two more chiefs arrived, each with a sailor in tow, then Sheriff Sharpe rapped on the XO's hatch and received permission to enter. Paul, Senior Chief Kowalski, and Sharpe crowded into the stateroom, Paul following the others' example by flattening himself against one bulkhead to leave a small space clear in the center. Commander Herdez nodded in general greeting, then pointed toward the hatch. 'Let's start with Alvarez.'
Sharpe leaned out, signaling to one sailor, who entered along with her chief. Alvarez stood at what could technically be called attention, though she somehow imbued the stance with an air of insubordination. 'Attention!' Sharpe snapped, then stepped back as Alvarez tightened her stance marginally.
Herdez scanned her reader, her face as hard as the metal deck, then looked up at Alvarez. 'Seaman Alvarez, you are charged with two violations of the Uniform Code of Military Justice. Article 86, failure to go to an appointed place of duty, and Article 91, insubordinate conduct toward a petty officer. Chief Thomas.'
The chief petty officer accompanying Alvarez wedged herself slightly forward.
'What happened?'
'During morning muster, Seaman Alvarez was not present, ma'am. She had still not appeared at the completion of muster, so I went down to the berthing compartment and found her in her rack. I ordered her to get up immediately and, instead of complying, Seaman Alvarez made a number of obscene remarks directed at me.'
Commander Herdez' face somehow seemed to harden even further. 'It seems to me that Seaman Alvarez should also be charged under Article 91 with disobeying an order from a petty officer. Is that correct?'
Chief Thomas chewed her lip for a moment before answering. 'Seaman Alvarez did get up and proceed with her duties after I, uh, motivated her, ma'am.'
'Hmmm.' Herdez shifted her gaze back to Alvarez. 'Seaman Alvarez, what do you have to say?'
Alvarez displayed an apparently insincere mix of regret and earnestness as she spoke. 'I was sick, ma'am. Real sick. I could hardly move at all. I tried to tell Chief Thomas, but she wouldn't listen. So I got up anyway, but it was real hard. But it wasn't my fault, ma'am.'
'Real sick?' Herdez looked back at Chief Thomas. 'Did you send Seaman Alvarez to sick bay?'
'I did, ma'am. The doc reported Alvarez had a bad hangover, that was all.'
'A hangover.'
Alvarez spoke again, licking her lips nervously. 'I didn't drink that much the night before, ma'am. Just a little. It was some bad booze. Real bad. Or somebody slipped me a Mickey. You know, to rob me or somethin', but I got back to the ship anyway. The doc wouldn't listen, though.'
Herdez shook her head slowly, her eyes fixed on Alvarez. 'Neither will I, because your story is not very believable. Sick bay would have spotted any traces of drugs in your system from a Mickey, but you refused such a test. Why?'
'I, uh, they coulda taken my word-'
'They also could have detected other drugs, perhaps. But I can't charge you with offenses I only believe you committed.' Herdez looked toward Sheriff Sharpe. 'This case is referred to Captain's mast. Dismissed.'
Alvarez, her head down so no one could read her expression, followed Chief Thomas out. Commander Herdez nodded to Sharpe. 'Next.'
Sharpe leaned out the hatch. 'Seaman Franco.'
Franco entered with his chief, then stood at rigid attention, almost quivering with nervousness. Herdez favored him with a stern look, then checked her reader. 'Seaman Franco, you are charged with violating Article 86, failure to go to an appointed place of duty. Chief Blucher?'
Chief Blucher tilted his head toward Franco. 'Seaman Franco, he didn't show up for morning muster yesterday. He got back to the ship maybe a half hour late, after liberty had expired.'
'What do have to say, Seaman Franco?'
Franco twitched, his face rigid. 'Ma'am, I… uh… didn't… realize the time.'
'What were you doing that made you so unaware of your duties on the ship, Seaman Franco?'
'I… uh… ma'am… um… a friend…'
The corner of Herdez' mouth twitched. 'Chief Blucher, can you shed any light on this?'
'Yes, ma'am. I believe Seaman Franco has a new girlfriend ashore.'
'Ah. Your first girlfriend, Seaman Franco?'
Franco nodded once, his face rigid, worried eyes fixed on the far bulkhead. 'Yes, ma'am. Uh, I mean, first real girlfriend.'
'I see. And you were engaged in some activities with this girlfriend which caused you to be late returning to the ship?'
'I… I'm sorry, ma'am. I really didn't realize…'
Herdez turned to Chief Blucher again. 'What sort of sailor is Seaman Franco?'
'He's a good sailor, ma'am. Hard worker.'
'Has he been in trouble before?'
'No, ma'am.'
'Very well.' Herdez fixed a stern gaze in Franco. 'Then I believe this can be handled without referring the case to the Captain. Chief Blucher, ensure Seaman Franco understands the consequences of failing to attend to his duties because of… social activities. As for you, Seaman Franco, it's not hard to balance your social life with your professional responsibilities as long as you think with the upper part of your spine instead of the lower part of it. I don't want to see you here again. Is that understood?'
'Yes, ma'am. Th-thank you, ma'am.'
'Dismissed.'
Franco and Blucher trooped out, while Senior Chief Kowalski rubbed his face to conceal a smile. 'Thanks, Commander.'
Commander Herdez kept her own face solemn. 'No thanks needed, Senior Chief. Franco is a good sailor, but more than one good sailor has wandered astray. Putting the fear of God in him at this point should ensure he stays on track. Alvarez, on the other hand… Senior Chief, I want you to be thinking about ways to get her transferred off this ship if necessary.'
Kowalski nodded. 'Okay, ma'am. She's a bad egg. But the shore establishment don't like it when we dump bad sailors on them.'
'Since the shore establishment sends them to us in the first place, I don't see where they have cause to complain. See to it, Senior Chief. Thank you, Petty Officer Sharpe. Mr. Sinclair, I'll need to see you tomorrow afternoon.'
'Yes, ma'am.' Paul went cold inside, imagining his foul up with Commander Garcia had attracted even worse attention than he had imagined.
Herdez weighed Paul with her eyes, making him feel as if she were looking through him. 'It's a legal issue, Mr. Sinclair. Thank you.'
Paul followed the others out of the stateroom. 'Sheriff, you got a minute?'
'Certainly, sir.' Sharpe seemed to be in good humor.
'I guess you enjoyed that little act with Franco.'
