John Hemry - A Just Determination

"Impressed?"

Paul froze at the dryly-phrased question, looking to see Commander Herdez gazing directly at him once again.

She pointed toward the memorabilia. "My 'Love Me' wall, Mr. Sinclair. Eighteen years of naval service are represented there. Perhaps you'll have such a wall someday, should you succeed in this profession." She paused, as if expecting a reply.

"I hope to, ma'am."

Herdez twisted one corner of her mouth in a brief smile. "Hope counts for far less than performance, Mr. Sinclair. Do well, and success will follow." She indicated the screen of her terminal. "You ranked two hundred and tenth from the top of your Academy class. Not bad. Could you have done better?"

Paul took a moment before answering. Boy, that's a loaded question. Either 'yes' or 'no' could get me in trouble. I'd best just be honest. "Yes, ma'am, I could have ranked higher."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because I didn't try as hard as I could have the first couple of years. I had some growing up to do."

"That's not unusual in a young person, though not all of them actually manage to mature. What about the last two years?"

"The last two years I elected to take a few courses that ate up a lot of my study time but earned only passable grades."

Herdez pondered Paul's statement for a moment. "Why did you elect to take those courses, then?"

"They were subjects I thought I ought to know, ma'am."

"I see." Herdez glanced back at the record, then at Paul. "But you could have received better grades in other courses you could have taken instead?"

"Oh, yes, ma'am. No question. I already had a good handle on the stuff in those courses." The answer popped out without Paul's thinking, leaving him wondering if the reply had sounded vain or thoughtless.

"Hmmm. You certainly demonstrated academic skills, regardless. Why did you volunteer for duty on the Michaelson, Mr. Sinclair?"

Paul swallowed to give himself time to consider the question, electing again for the truth. "They said they needed somebody in this assignment."

"They?"

"The, uh, detailers, ma'am."

Herdez seemed amused by the reply. "Well, Mr. Sinclair, you seem to be devoted to neither puffing up your resume nor to demanding ticket-punching assignments. That bodes well for you. I see you've also attended the Ship's Legal Officer course."

"Yes, ma'am, but-"

"That's fortunate. The Michaelson needs a trained legal officer. You'll be assigned ship's legal officer as a collateral duty, effective now."

"Uh… yes, ma'am."

"As far as your primary duty, you'll be Assistant Combat Information Center Officer."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"The last postal officer just departed the ship. You'll have that collateral duty as well." She looked questioningly at Paul.

"Yes, ma'am."

"And we need to get a better handle on security issues. You'll be assistant security manager."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"You'll be expected to pursue your Open Space Warfare Officer qualifications. I like to personally track the progress of our junior officers in meeting those qualifications."

"Yes, ma'am." Paul tried not to flinch outwardly, thinking of the huge amount of material he would be required to master to earn those qualifications.

"Ship's office will assign you an inport and underway duty section. Do you have a stateroom?"

"Yes, ma'am, Commander Sykes-"

"Good. Have you met any of the other officers, yet?"

"Just Commander Sykes, Lieutenant Junior Grade Meadows and Ensign Shen."

"Good. You'll meet the rest of the wardroom soon enough."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Mr. Meadows can escort you around for the rest of your check-in procedure. While he is doing so, please inform Mr. Meadows that he'll regret it if I see that little flag of his again."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Welcome aboard, Mr. Sinclair. This is a challenging and demanding assignment. Give it your best."

"Thank you, ma'am. Yes, ma'am."

Commander Herdez rose slightly again, offered her hand once more, then waved Paul out.

Carl awaited him in the passageway outside. "How'd it go?"

Paul shivered. "Wow."

"Yeah. The XO's hell-on-wheels, isn't she?"

"She told me to tell you that you'd regret it if she saw that pirate flag again."

"Ouch." Meadows winced exaggeratedly. "It just fell into a black hole. Lost to the sight of humanity for eternity. How many jobs did you pick up?"

"My primary is ACICO, like my orders said, and I got, uh, three collateral duties. I think."

"Only three? She must like you."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. You meet Kris Denaldo, yet?"

"Yes. She's the officer of the deck, right?"

"Yeah. She picked up four collateral duties. And she's the assistant electronics officer." Meadows grinned. "Kris don't sleep much."

"I thought nobody slept much."

"They don't, but some sleep a little less than others." With one extended hand, Meadows indicated a route forward. "Well, shipmate, let's get you checked in with everybody else."

The next few hours were a blur for Paul. Names and faces went by, most disappearing from memory almost as soon as they did from sight. A blase petty officer in ship's office downloaded a copy of Paul's service record and uploaded him a copy of the Ship's Organization and Regulations Manual. "Happy leisure reading, sir," the petty officer wished without any visible trace of irony. A pay clerk adjusted her database to reflect Paul's existence and newly qualified status for space hardship pay. A harried lieutenant arguing with a civilian contractor took a moment to flash a smile at Paul and welcome him to her duty section. A commander eyed Paul suspiciously, then plugged his name into the underway watch bill.

Then there was Commander Garcia, Operations Department Head, and therefore immediate superior in the chain-of-command to both the Combat Information Center Officer and the Assistant. Garcia, squat and stolid, glowered at Paul even as he grimaced a brief smile of welcome. "You work for me, Sinclair. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Legal officer. Who said you should do that job?"

Paul had already stiffened his posture in response to Garcia's attitude, and now spoke with equal stiffness. "Commander Herdez, sir."

Garcia glowered again, obviously wishing to say more, then just shook his head. "Don't screw up, Sinclair. This isn't some Academy game. You've got a lot to learn. Screw up, and I'll dump your ass into vacuum."

"Yes, sir." Behind Garcia, Paul could see Meadows making a face. "I'll do my best, sir."

"I hope so." Garcia turned toward Meadows. "See if you can locate Tweed and introduce these two." Then he stalked off.

Paul glanced at Meadows. "Who's Tweed?"

"Lieutenant Jan Tweed."

"Garcia doesn't like her?"

"Garcia doesn't like anybody." Meadows waved Paul forward again. "Technically, Jan Tweed'll be your immediate superior, so try to get along."

"Is that hard?" A headache, which had been building throughout the last few hours, began throbbing with renewed strength.

"Uh… "

"Carl, don't let me hit a mine."

Meadows grinned. "Good analogy. Jan Tweed is an okay person, she just don't do much. That can be real aggravating if you're depending on her. Copy?"

"So that's why the Michaelson needed an Assistant in CIC?"

"That's one reason. See, Garcia told me to 'try' to locate Tweed because sometimes she's real hard to find. Especially when she's needed. Like if she's supposed to relieve you on watch? Don't count on her showing up on time."

Paul's headache flared a little worse. Great. Somebody I can't count on, and she's the person I'll have to work most closely with. Well, maybe she won't be that bad. Maybe she's just got a bad reputation. I hope. "I guess I should try to find her."

"Yeah. Let's check a few places. After we finish this check-off list of yours."