Gust Front

Sharon snorted at the sudden profanity out of the somber officer. «Yes, Captain, actually I have.»

«So, we're back to 'Captain' are we?» asked the officer, with a snort. «As you wish. You realize that none of the officers have been in place long enough to give you an evaluation report.»

«Yes, ma'am,» Sharon answered, more carefully.

«Captain Stupanovich tried. He submitted your review despite only being in command for sixty days. The minimum is one hundred and eighty.»

«Yes, ma'am,» replied Sharon with a grimace. «I saw it.»

«Not particularly good from what I've heard,» admitted Weston. «Well, that was one piece of paper that will never see the light of day. If there is a remaining copy anywhere, Fleet has been unable to find it.»

Sharon wrinkled her brow. «I don't understand. Why would Fleet be trying to purge that review? I can understand denying it, but why purge it?»

«Commander,» asked Weston, leaning forward and pi

Sharon grimaced. «There are seventeen 'minor' systems down and four 'major' systems, ma'am. The major systems are limited to environmental and defense. All weapon systems and drive systems are on-line.» She shrugged. «The crew is doing wonders, especially the Indowy, but we don't have the spares! We might have been able to get spares delivered for the heat exchangers and the number six forward fans by now if Captain Stupanovich had bothered to forward the requests!» she finished angrily.

Weston nodded. «Commander, there are seventeen frigates assigned to Earth system defense. You know that, right?»

«Yes, ma'am.»

«Do you know how many are flying?» she continued, aggressively.

«Twelve, ma'am,» said Sharon, wondering where the discussion was going.

Weston nodded again. «Do you know how many have more than fifty percent capability in weapons and drive? The two systems that you correctly pointed out are the most important?» She waved at the air. «It's hot! The exchangers are off-line, right?»

«No, ma'am, I don't know how many are out of service and yes, ma'am, the heat exchangers are out,» said Sharon. «Actually, half—« she continued and was cut off.

«I'm not attacking your job, Commander. I'm telling you why you should straighten up your damn shoulders! Having all the heat exchangers off-line can be deadly. But not nearly as deadly as having our lance-launch ability off-line! Do you know what Admiral Bledspeth, whom I have known since I was in diapers, said to me?»

Sharon shook her head, wondering what the Terran System Fleet Commander would have said about this bucket of bolts. She felt like she was being slapped in three different directions by the rapid turns of the new commander.

«He told me to keep my damn comments to myself and listen to Commander O'Neal and I might just live to see Terra again.» She shook her head and swore. «This is the only damned frigate circling Earth that has all its weapons on-line and a fully capable drive! And if you don't think Fleet notices that, you're not as smart as they say you are.

«We are currently the only frigate that is more or less ready to sail in harm's way!» continued the captain, seriously. «If there is an emergence of Posleen ships, the fighters and the other frigates will try. But most of the frigates, if they're not limping on one reactor their launch systems are off-line!»

«Oh, joy!» said Sharon as anger built in her system. «So, what you're telling me is I've been stuck in this hell-hole for doing a good job?»

«No, Commander!» said the captain, determinedly. «I'm telling you that you are stuck for doing an incredible job! And you are now going to have to teach still another sea-sucking regular Navy asshole how the hell you do it!»

«Oh, God,» said Sharon, with a laugh for the accuracy of the phrasing. The laugh held a note of despair.

«And I, in turn,» said the officer quietly, «will give you all the support I can. So, maybe, we can turn this into something other than a flying rat-hole sardine-can.»

Sharon nodded and sighed. «Well, ma'am, in that case we'd better get you accustomed to the paperwork.»

«Not the systems?» asked the captain. It was a test. The captain might learn a smattering of the equipment, but for the moment getting the parts out off the supply chain was much more important.

«Not if you want to have any ru

CHAPTER 15

Ft. Indiantown Gap, United States of America, Sol III

1427 EDT September 13th, 2004 ad

«Yes, Ampele?» First Sergeant Pappas looked up at the image of the operations sergeant displayed by his AID. The call had interrupted his attempt to reduce the mass of paperwork that had built up while he was on leave and he suppressed an illogical snarl; the recently promoted ops sergeant was famous for not wasting his time.

«Top, battalion PAC just called and we're getting another E-6.»

«We're up to strength,» responded Pappas as a knee-jerk reaction.

«No, we're down one, according to PAC, and technically they're right.»

«If you're talking about Stewart's squad, you've got to be joking.»

«I don't know what else we're going to do with him. He's senior to Stewart and all the other squads have staffs as squad leaders.»

«Do we have his two-oh-one? And where are we on getting Stewart his Six?»

«The two-oh-one's still queuing from all the transfers, but PAC is 'very confident' that we will have it in hand by the time he arrives, and he has a hardcopy with him. And there is no way that battalion is going to board Stewart. He's barely out of basic!»

«So are you, and I got you your five stripes. Never mind, I'll take another hammer to the sergeant major. When the new guy arrives, send him straight in.»

«Roger.»

* * *

«Staff Sergeant Duncan,» said the new NCO, from the doorway, «reporting to the first sergeant as ordered.»

Duncan had been around—he was entering his twelfth year in the military—and he knew that when you reported to your company, whatever the procedure might say, you usually saw other NCOs before you were introduced to your new first sergeant or commander. Because they were very busy people with tight schedules, if you were ordered to report directly to one or the other on arrival, it usually meant trouble. And he really had no interest in trouble. Especially from the big son of a bitch that was his new Top.

«Come on in, Duncan was it? Pull up a chair.» Ernie Pappas, who still thought of himself as a gu

«No big problem,» he continued. «If you're wondering why I asked to see you right away, just a couple of things I wanted you to be aware of. Termites in your new home, so to speak.»

First Sergeant Pappas did a quick perusal of his newest NCO and came away with varying first impressions. For one thing, the guy was no rejuv. Pushing thirty probably, though it was hard to tell with his eyes. He had a battered look, kinda shocky, that reminded him of the Old Man when he first arrived, and a pin that he had only ever seen before on the captain, the one that meant that the person had been in nuclear ground combat. Despite how bad it was on Barwhon, the pin had only been earned in one engagement.

He held out his hand for the hardcopy perso

«Yeah. And I just got back from Barwhon,» the staff sergeant replied, surprised. «How'd you know?»