'Port thrusters all ahead one third, aye,' the helmsman echoed the command. Paul felt a kick as the thrusters began shoving at the Michaelson 's mass. Combined with the gradual loosening of her ties to the station, the fluctuating forces made the feeling of gravity onboard shift as well, causing Paul's stomach to react as if they were on a thrill ride, and introducing a dangerous distraction.
'Let out Lines One and Five, aye,' the petty officer of the watch responded.
Michaelson 's mass accelerated ponderously away from the station, the two lines still tethering her to Franklin paying out slowly, the computers controlling their tension compensating for the acceleration as well as the inherited centrifugal force pushing the Michaelson out and to the side. Paul glanced at the emergency jettison panel. If one of the line computers failed, he'd have to hit the right switch as quickly as possible to cut the line and keep it from pulling on the ship and the station in a potentially disastrous way. The authorities on Franklin didn't like having to retrieve drifting lines, but they really hated mistightened lines pulling a ship and the station back into uncontrolled contact.
Paul watched, trying to follow the advice of his first officer of the deck and feel the ship's movement instead of just watching the displays. He stole another glance to the side, where Captain Hayes was watching his display with every appearance of calm interest. 'Standby to let go all lines.'
'Standing by.'
Another moment. Feel the ship. Watch the displays. Factor in the delay between giving an order and when it's carried out. 'Let go all lines.'
'Let go all lines, aye, sir. All lines let go.'
The bosun mate of the watch sounded his pipe. 'Underway! Shift colors!' Instead of physically lowering the bow and stern flags, and then raising a flag to the main mast as seagoing ships did, the bosun on the Michaelson pressed a control to change her broadcast identity code to show the ship was no longer tethered to another object with a fixed orbit.
Paul sat rigid, barely aware of a pain in his lower back from tense muscles held tight so he could watch his displays closely. The maneuvering screen showed the Michaelson moving at a gradually increasing pace out and away from the station, her projected course a flattened curve. Up ahead, no other ships or objects were visible, leaving the Michaelson 's intended course clear.
'Say again, sir?'
Damn! I said that too softly. I know better. Project command presence and say your orders loud and clear, dammit! 'Port thrusters all ahead two thirds. Main drive all ahead one third.'
'Port thrusters all ahead two thirds, aye. Main drive all ahead one third, aye.'
Paul tried not to look toward Captain Hayes again, wondering how he'd reacted to Paul's miscommunicated command. A moment later, the Michaelson 's main drive kicked in, slamming Paul back against his seat. As the maneuvering thrusters pushed the Michaelson farther away from the station, the main drive shoved her forward, creating a new projected course leading over and away from the station. He briefly flashed on another training memory, when he'd wondered why the ships didn't just use their thrusters to pivot around so they could accelerate directly away from the station. Carl had given him an I-can't-believe-you-asked-me-that look, and then pointed out that doing such a maneuver would direct the main drive's exhaust straight at the station. That'd be a bad thing, Carl had added with a grin. Man, I wish Carl was still up here.
On the maneuvering display, the Michaelson 's course rose toward a projected path set by the station traffic monitors. Feel the ship. Feel the ship. 'Secure port thrusters. Main drive all ahead two thirds.'
'Port thrusters secure, aye, main drive all ahead two thirds, aye.'
Smooth. Not exact. But smooth. 'Quartermaster. What's your recommendation?'
'Recommend course two zero zero degrees absolute, up two zero degrees, sir.'
Paul looked toward the captain. Hayes nodded judiciously without being asked. 'Very well,' Paul acknowledged. 'Helm, come to course two zero zero degrees absolute, up two zero degrees.'
'Come to course two zero zero degrees absolute, up two zero degrees, aye, sir.'
Paul let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Something else. Oh, yeah. 'Captain, request permission to secure from getting underway.'
Hayes nodded again. 'Permission granted.'
Paul called back to the petty officer of the watch. 'Pass the word to secure from getting underway.'
'Aye, sir.' Keying the all-hands circuit, the petty officer called out the announcement. 'All hands, secure from getting underway. The ship remains in maneuvering status. All hands exercise caution in moving about.'
USS Michaelson shuddered as the helm orders caused thrusters around her hull to fire, killing drift in one direction, then bringing her bow around toward the desired course before firing again. Her mass responding to the thrust, the Michaelson ponderously steadied onto the planned trajectory. The desired course and the actual course displayed on the maneuvering screens merged into one curving path, then as the thrusters shut off their absence made itself felt as all sense of gravity disappeared. Paul's stomach lurched in an all-too-familiar fashion, but he fought it down with the ease of long practice.
Scott Silver tapped his controls. 'I guess you trust the automated maneuvering system when you're clear of the station.'
'That's right.' Paul pointed at the display. 'There's a lot more room for error if something goes wrong out here.'
'Whatever.'
Captain Hayes unstrapped, pulling himself from his chair gingerly in the new zero-gravity conditions. 'Good job, Mr. Sinclair.'
'Thank you, sir.'
Hayes cupped one hand to his ear as if straining to hear Paul's reply.
'Thank you, sir!'
Hayes nodded, then headed for the hatch.
'Captain's off the bridge!'
Paul smiled to himself. Captain Hayes chewed me out for not speaking loud enough when I gave that one order, but he did it without chewing me out. He just made his point. Paul heard a chuckle and looked over at Scott Silver, who was laughing at him. What right do you have to laugh about that? You were just baggage up here this time.
Apparently oblivious to Paul's soured mood, Silver chatted through the rest of the watch, telling sea stories about being at the Academy and his experiences since then. If Paul hadn't been so ticked off at Silver, he might have found the stories charming. Instead, he found himself questioning some of what he was hearing.
The arrival of Lieutenant Diem and Ensign Gabriel to assume the watch was a bigger relief than usual. Partway through the turnover, Paul realized that right after he discussed each important item with Gabriel, Silver would discuss the same item with Diem. The realization that Silver appeared to be depending on Paul to keep track of important details did nothing to improve Paul's mood. He rushed through the last stage of the turnover, then bolted the bridge as quickly as propriety would allow so he wouldn't have to leave along with Silver.
Once inside his own stateroom, Paul pulled up his division's training records. He knew from experience that Commander Garcia usually did checks of training records soon after an underway period started, though Paul had never figured out if Garcia did that because he was bored or because he expected his division officers to have neglected their duties amid the hassles of getting underway. Speaking of Garcia, he's the senior watch officer. Several months back he scrambled watch sections to keep us from 'getting too comfortable.' Commander, please, please, please scramble the watch sections again so I don't have to spend hour upon endless hour up on the bridge with Scott Silver!
Sam Yarrow came in, strapped into his seat, then eyed Paul. 'What's eating you?'
'Who says anything's eating me?'
'The way your back's rigid and your ears are red and you're pounding the keys on your data terminal.'
Paul willed himself to relax, then tried to smile. 'I guess I'm just tense. It was a rough morning. I conned the ship out of the dock.'
'So? You've done that before.'
'Yeah, but the new captain was watching me, and I had a new officer of the deck. It made things a bit more stressful.'
'If you say so. What's that guy Silver like on the bridge anyway?'
