John Ringo - East of the Sun, West of the Moon

The response from Jacklyn Pledger was a gesture that was universal. The gesture, however, imparted spin and made her miss the crossbar she was aiming for. Fortunately, it was a complete miss since at the speed she was going it would have been bruising to impact.

Bus pulled, lightly, on his safety line, which got him headed in the general direction of the computer tech. He judged his snatch finely and managed to get a hand on her ankle. A very slight tug sent him “up” towards the top of the cylinder but it also spun Jacklyn towards the nearest wall.

He grabbed the cross-member she had been aiming for and turned to watch the shapely computer tech’s landing. The water had slowed her speed so she didn’t break her wrists when she hit the wall and managed to get her feet under her. As Bus watched she turned clumsily around and began gesturing.

He didn’t get all the gestures, but the general gist was apparent.

“Agreed,” he signaled, waving to the team on the far wall and the safety divers. “Call the exercise. Surface.”

“Fisk this shit ,” Jacklyn said, peeling out of the skin-tight suit. “I am done . I am not going in that tank one more time!”

“Calm down,” Bus said, trying not to stare at the liquid-covered body. The antiblister liquid that filled the suits was remarkably similar to the sort of jelly used for sexual lubrication, which had originally occasioned some bawdy jokes. At this point it was just another pain to be borne since while it made getting the suits on easy, it made taking them off damned hard. At least it had been.

Jacklyn cursed luridly as her hands slipped on the suit and she stood bolt upright, shaking from head to toe.

“I AM SO FISKING OUT OF HERE!” she screamed, quivering.

“Jackie, let me help,” Linda said, getting a grip on the slippery suit and yanking it down over the other girl’s arms. “Just take a deep breath. We’re all tired.”

“I can not keep up this pace, okay?” Jacklyn said, turning to the captain with tears in her eyes, holding the suit up to cover her breasts. “I’m not a Blood Lord, okay? I was a computer nerd. I liked playing with old systems. After the Fall I was a damned waitress ! I can not keep going in that tank hour after hour! Get us a God damned break , Bus, or I swear I’ll quit and FISK the bonus!”

“Same here,” Michelle said. The pilot had long brown hair with touches of blonde streaked through it from the sun and a face the near side of beautiful with slight epicanthic folds and high cheekbones. Her green eyes were shadowed and baggy, though. “I’m as dialed in as I can get with the shitty ‘simulators’ we have. And I’m not going into that damned lake again, either. I’ll do the mission, but I’m done with training sixteen hours a day. There’s a point where it’s overkill and we’re past it.”

“Ditto,” Linda said, her face firm. “I’ve talked to the other engineers and we’re all worn out. The pace is especially killing Geo. He’s trying to keep up with all us youngsters and, tough as he is, he hasn’t got the stamina. He has to have a break. We all do.”

“I’ve got the message,” Bus said, yanking his suit down to his waist. “I’ll bring it up, okay? That’s all I can do.”

“Tell Herzer he can kiss my ass if I’m going into that lake one more time,” Jacklyn said, frowning.

“There’s going to have to be at least one more exercise,” Bus said. “We haven’t worked as a group, yet. Can you handle it once more?”

“Maybe,” Jacklyn said, looking at the others. “But not day in and day out. I’m done with repeatedly hacking systems underwater. I’ll play memorization games with the other techs, but the most you’re going to get is one or two more exercises and no more than a couple of hours in the water. I need to get my head together about space . You’re the one that’s always pointing out it’s not the same.”

“I’ll see Herzer,” Bus said. “This evening.”

“Commander Herrick,” Captain Van Buskirk said as he entered Herzer’s office. It was after training with only a week to go and Herzer was knee deep in signing papers.

“Hey, Bus, why so formal?” Herzer asked, carefully setting his fountain pen down so it wouldn’t spill all over the papers.

“’Cause I’ve got an issue,” Bus said, frowning and coming to a position of parade rest. “With all due respect, sir, I think we need to wrap up training soon .”

“We’ve got two rest days built in at the end of the week,” Herzer said, frowning. “You want to knock off before then?”

“I’d like to have this be the last day of microgravity training, sir,” Bus replied, seriously. “The Blood Lords can keep up the pace, but the techs and pilots are right on the edge of mutiny. They’re all exhausted. Yes, I know that after they knock off you’re up to the wee hours still. And they know that. It’s probably the only reason they haven’t mutinied yet. But they’re worn out. I especially strongly recommend that Geo be taken off the training schedule. There’s nothing he really needs to learn at this point. He’s still only marginal in microgravity, but if you want him on the mission at all you’d better back off. Or he’ll be dead.”

“Point taken,” Herzer said, quietly. “And I already heard the same from Massa. What about you?”

“Me, sir?” Bus asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve got the administrative load of my company to handle so I’ve been carrying pretty much the same load you have. But I’m a Blood Lord and I’m used to that. We get selected for the ability to just keep going . The techs were selected purely for their knowledge. They’re not us.”

“Point again,” Herzer said, sighing. He glanced at the training schedule on his wall and nodded. “Okay, we’ll have one exercise tomorrow. Move up the group move through micro to tomorrow afternoon. In-grav rehearsal in the morning then in the tank in the afternoon. After that, we’ll dial back. Morning classes only, afternoons and evenings off. Two days off entirely, then one for prep. Then we go.” He looked down at the suddenly irrelevant paperwork and shook his head. “And with that, I’m going to bed. Have Roscoe redo the training schedule in the morning.”

“Good call, sir,” Bus said, smiling faintly.

“Any more suggestions, captain?” Herzer asked, lightly. “I just realized that, as a commander, you have far more experience than I do. Don’t you?”

“I’ve had a triari and my company for over a year,” Bus said, dropping his position of parade rest and settling in a chair. “You’ve been, what? A line infantryman, a militia advisor, an XO to a mer contingent, a dragon wing XO and an Officer Basic instructor. Notice anything missing in that?”

“Command,” Herzer said, grinning thinly. “I’ve noticed and had a word about it with… someone.”

“Now, there’s another point to it,” Bus said, carefully. “In every line segment you’ve been in combat. I haven’t seen an orc since Raven’s Mill. So there’s something to be said for your career track. But you learn stuff in leadership positions that you’ve missed. Like there’s such a thing as overtraining. So, yeah, you need some command time, bad. Frankly, you needed a company but you’re past that at this point. You’re looking at a battalion in one of the legions, next.”

“If I can get it,” Herzer pointed out. “There’s going to be a lot of counterpressure from the personnel weenies because I haven’t had a company command. Or wing command, for that matter.”

“Oh, I think you have enough pull to overcome that,” Bus said, dryly. “But that’s going to create another problem. People are going to see you as having gotten your position because you’re Edmund’s bag-boy. Not to mention Megan’s… friend.”