He was. Paul had scarcely left the bridge, his legs a little wobbly under the unaccustomed steady feeling of gravity, when he was paged to the quarterdeck. Paul had met a lot of the JAGs on Franklin because of his legal officer responsibilities and involvement in too many court-martials, but he didn't know this commander, so he must be fairly new to the station.
The commander didn't waste time, hauling out some paperwork. 'Lieutenant Sinclair? Good. I've been assigned to compile the official investigation into the recent action involving your ship. Nothing to worry about. We've already gone over all the materiel we received from your ship's transmissions during the engagement. We do need a few personal statements, though.' He tapped the papers. 'The list is here. Please get sworn statements from everyone listed and forward them to me as soon as possible.'
Paul took the list, trying not to think of everything else he needed to do and how much he just wanted to relax for a few hours at least. 'Yes, sir.'
'That's all.' The commander waved farewell and left while Paul was still scanning the list. Captain. XO. Operations Officer. No surprises. Just a royal pain in the neck for Paul to get those officers to cough up the statements. Since they all outranked him, it wasn't like he could order them to do the statements right away, which meant he'd have to diplomatically ride herd on the process until he could get every statement completed.
'Request permission to come aboard.'
Paul looked up quickly at the familiar voice. 'Jen!'
She finished saluting the officer of the deck and came over to him. 'Virtual hug.' They couldn't really hug, not while they were in uniform.
'Virtual hug back. Virtual kiss.'
'Fresh.' Jen's smile faded. 'You look like you've been rode hard and put away wet. Rough one, eh?'
'You know what happened out there.'
'Yeah. What's your status?'
He knew she meant whether he could leave the ship or not. 'Standard work day.' Which meant at least twelve hours.
'You're kidding. You guys have been out for several weeks, you've been involved in tough ops, and they can't even give you a little stand-down?'
'Sorry, Jen, the XO told us the morning-'
Ensign Gabriel, the officer of the deck, waved a forestalling hand at Paul. 'Wait a minute. The captain's about to make an announcement.'
Captain Hayes' voice came over the announcing system. 'This is the captain speaking. I want to thank all of you for the outstanding effort you've put forth the last several weeks. You've all worked hard and done the Michaelson proud. Now you deserve a break. I can't give you much of one, but I'm authorizing liberty for everyone except the duty section effective as soon as your department heads and division officers can release you. That's all.'
Jen grinned. 'Let's go.'
'Jen, I've got to cut my own people loose and get permission from Garcia.'
'I can wait. Kris and I can catch up on things.'
'Okay.' Paul held up the papers. 'And I've got to get this started before I go.'
'Paul Sinclair-'
'I just have to notify the officers who have to provide statements. It shouldn't take too long.'
Jen shook her head, then smiled again as Chief Sharpe came onto the quarterdeck. 'When did you make chief?'
'A month ago, ma'am.' Sharpe saluted with a solemn face. 'It's a pleasure to see you again, Lieutenant Shen. Though I have to confess I keep hearing about you constantly from a certain love-struck lieutenant on this ship who will remain nameless.' He faced Paul. 'Sir, a word of warning. There's going to be a hot time in the old town tonight. This crew is strung tight. They're really going to be blowing off steam. I'd appreciate it if you talk to your troops and-'
'Remind them to maintain control because if they don't they'll end up paying for it? Sure, Sheriff. I'll pass the suggestion on to the other division officers.' He checked the time. 'Jen, I'll look you up in Kris' stateroom. Request permission to proceed on duties assigned.'
She shook her head in mock annoyance and flipped him a salute. 'Permission granted.'
Paul hastened off in search of the Captain or the XO, his arms aching with the wish to hold Jen but knowing he couldn't leave the ship without passing on the JAG's need for statements. As he walked, he glanced down at the questions. Most of them were totally predictable, as well as totally superfluous since the answers to them were already known thanks to the materiel Michaelson had transmitted during the engagement.
But then he frowned and came to a halt, reading the last question over slowly again. ' Provide your assessment of South Asian Alliance planning for this event, including any indications that to your mind might imply SASAL foreknowledge of US intentions.'
Somebody does think our rules of engagement might've been compromised. But how?
Chapter Four
Now that she was serving on 'shore duty' on Franklin, Jen actually had assigned berthing on the station. Remarkably, she'd managed to score one of the few private single officer compartments. Granted, there were a great many closets on Earth that probably had a larger square footage, but Paul didn't particularly mind the fact that just being in the compartment with Jen made them stay practically touching the entire time. 'Nice place.'
'Thanks. It's just a little hole in the wall, but it's home.' She handed Paul a drink and sat down next to him on the bed/couch. 'Relax.'
'I'm trying.' Paul made a conscious effort to let the tension out of his body. 'Let's talk about something besides my underway time. You know what I was doing. What've you been up to?'
'I had dinner with my father while you were out.'
Gee, too bad I missed seeing Captain Kay Shen. But Paul kept his sarcasm silent, knowing Jen couldn't be held responsible for her father's opinion of Paul. 'How'd it go?' he asked instead, trying to keep his voice casual.
He apparently didn't quite succeed, as Jen gave him an exasperated look. 'You two remind me of a couple of bears or something. The old leader trying to keep control and the young upstart circling and looking for an opening.'
'I am not trying to take control of anything from your father!'
'It's an analogy, Paul. You're not bears, either. Usually.'
'So, how'd it go?' he repeated.
Jen shrugged. 'Dad insisted on instructing me in lots of schemes to make my career 'healthy' again.'
'He's fairly senior and he's got a lot of experience.'
'Yes, but he's not me! He says I should stay away from engineering from now on. But I love that stuff, both theory and practice. And I swear, some of the things he suggested come down to kissing every butt in the solar system and begging them to forgive me. For what? For my being unfairly accused of sabotaging my own ship and killing my own shipmates and then having my name dragged through the mud and almost being convicted of a crime I didn't commit? I'm supposed to ask them for forgiveness?'
'I can see where that'd be hard to swallow. You got a raw deal.'
'It would've been worse if you hadn't been there. Incredibly worse.' Jen gave him a weary look. 'But as you've probably guessed, father also suggested I dump overboard something that would immediately cause people to associate me with the court-martial.'
Paul felt a flash of anger and stifled it in a short laugh. 'Meaning me?'
'Of course. Good advice, huh? Give up my pride, everything I care about at work, the man I love, and hope that somehow I'll be able to salvage a 'career' out of what remains. Why the hell would I want a career doing things I don't like, alone, after I've flushed my self-respect down the toilet?'
