Kas’ first visitor was Roi Tremling. As the staff insignia on his shoulder boards showed, Tremling was an Engineer. In fact, he was almost a caricature of the breed. His shipsuit was already rumpled, and even the three gold Commanders’ stripes on his left shoulder board were stained. His military bearing was noticeable only for its total absence; he slumped, even when tossing Kas a rudimentary salute. Despite the grease-stained rag he wrung ceaselessly between his fingers, his hands were none too clean. Kas suppressed a grimace as he invited the man to sit.
“Thought I’d go first, Commodore,” Tremling muttered, “So’s I can get back t’work. Then th’ rest o’ you can get on with your military silliness.”
Kas’ face darkened. “It’s your military silliness, too, Commander!”
Tremling shrugged slightly, but did not reply. Kas’ flush deepened and anger flared.
“On your feet, Commander!” The man looked annoyed, but obeyed. “Now,” Kas continued, “You must be an outstanding engineer, mister, because you’re a disaster as an officer. But I will not have my crew snickering behind their hands at one of my officers, line or staff! Nor will I permit you to infect junior officers with disdain for the Fleet and its purpose.
“Now, I have no choice but to assign you as Rekesh ’s Chief Engineer. But by all the weird gods of the galaxy, by the time we get back, you will be as acceptable an officer as you are an engineer, or you’ll die trying!
“Now,” he continued in a more moderate tone, “I know you’ve a lot to do to get this ship combat-ready…” Tremling muttered and Kas paused. “What?”
Tremling glowered. “I said, ‘If it can be done at all’.”
Kas matched the man’s scowl. “You mean, ‘If it can be done at all, sir!’ he demanded.
After a moment, Tremling’s eyes dropped, and he grated a reluctant, “Sir”.
Kas stared at the man for a moment, seething. Finally, he controlled himself enough to snap. “That will be all, Commander. For now. But rest assured,” he grated as the pudgy man rose; “You and I will be having much more contact in the weeks to come. For now, get out of my sight, and get my ship on-line!”
Kas found that he had to allow himself a few moments to subdue his anger and control trembling hands. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply, trying to clear his mind before his next interview.
But the man who next entered was nearly the antithesis of the engineer. Tre Wansung marched into the room like a cadet on parade, snapped to attention, and rendered Kas a textbook salute. Where the engineer was large and hulking, Wansung stood only about 160 centimeters tall, and probably massed about 70 kilos. Slim and graceful, he conveyed an air of tightly constrained energy. His blond hair and youthful face belied his Commander’s shoulder boards.
Kas wondered how the man managed to get knife-edged creases in his shipsuit. Certainly the ship’s laundry facilities were not yet online. He straightened and returned the salute, inviting Wansung to sit. The man did, but still somehow managed to convey a feeling he’d be more comfortable standing at attention.
Wansung flashed him a blinding grin. “It’s a genuine honor to meet you, Commodore,” he began. “It’s about time one of us got a flag!”
Kas frowned. “One of us?”
Wansung’s head bobbed. “Sure. An outie. I was beginning to think the only way an outie would get flag rank would be by moving to the Alliance!” He favored Kas with another blinding grin.
Kas suppressed a groan. “Please,” he prayed silently to any god that happened by, “Not another damned bigot!”
He sighed. With an effort, he made his tone light and pleasant. “Tell me about yourself, Commander. You were one of the last to arrive at the base on Prime, and I didn’t have much time to review your record.”
Wansung responded with another crisp nod. “Yes, sir. I just got my third full ring three years ago.” He flushed slightly as he admitted, “I’m afraid this is my first assignment to a combatant vessel, unless you consider a planetary assault ship a combatant.” He shrugged. “I don’t. I mean, all they really are is a space bound truck hauling the real fighting troops to the battle.
“Aside from my last tour, as Exec on one of those, I had two tours on supply vessels. I’d almost given up hope of getting a combatant assignment, where I could really show what I could do. It’s getting so the innies keep all the good fighting assignments to themselves!” He continued in this vein for several moments, not noticing Kas’ increasingly stony expression. Finally, he ran down.
Kas sighed. “Very well, Commander. You will be assigned as Rekesh ’s Operations Officer. Now, your lack of combatant ship experience will be a problem, and I expect you to be using the strategic and tactical library and simulations frequently to hone your skills.”
They talked a bit more, and Kas began to relax. Wansung made no further comments that might be considered bigoted, and Kas began to wonder if the man had just imagined that stressing their common origins would be a good way to try to bond with his CO. If so, his judgment might be faulty, but at Least Kas wouldn’t have to worry about his treatment of innerworld crewpeople.
Kas began to relax a bit, but he was still uncomfortably aware that there were only two more Commanders. Despite his words at the meeting, Kas really didn’t want to appoint Rom to command Starhopper, and Wansung was simply too inexperienced. The freighter would be his scout, and operating largely independently. Kas wanted her to have the most qualified skipper available.
Kas looked at the woman on the other side of his desk, trying to recall all the details of the service record he’d seen on Prime. “Please be seated, Commander.”
Commander San To-Ling was the senior of the cold-sleep officers, which meant she was senior to everyone on the mission except Kas. Her last assignment had been as Executive Officer aboard Haroun Al-Rashid, a battle cruiser and sister ship to the Rekesh. Judging by her seniority, she was undoubtedly due for promotion to Captain. In fact, Kas suspected she was overdue. For the fiftieth time, he cursed the fact that he’d been unable to bring the crew’s service records.
Physically, To-Ling was a tiny, middle-aged woman. She certainly massed less than fifty kilos, and stood only about a meter and a half tall. But she stood ramrod straight, and her angular features betrayed a coldness and arrogance Kas felt as a physical force.
“Thank you, sir,” she replied, her tone making the last word a sneer. “I prefer to stand.”
Kas nodded. “Very well.” He frowned. “Tell me, Commander. Just what is it that makes you so hostile? Is it me personally, or is it just that I’m an outerworlder?”
To-Ling regarded him coldly. “May I speak freely, Commodore?”
Kas nodded again. “Please. And consider that permission to apply at any time when we’re alone.”
She suppressed a snort. “Very well, sir. To be honest, it’s both. I’ve never served under an outie before, and I’m not looking forward to the experience.” She shrugged. “Oh, I’ve known some outies that were very competent at their jobs. But I’ve never known one to be completely civilized.”
She hesitated before continuing, “And frankly, sir, an officer who would assault another officer, especially one senior to him, betrays a lack of self control I find appalling. I find it difficult to deal with the fact that this mission is commanded by an officer so… unmilitary.”
Kas paused before replying. Finally, he said, “Very well, I asked for honesty, and I’ve received it. I replaced Starhopper ’s exec because he was an outerworld bigot. Now it seems I must deal with an innerworld snob. I’ll merely content myself with asking who is more civilized — a person who deals with others based on who they are rather than where they’re from, or one who substitutes arrogance and stereotypes for judgment? I’ve always felt that being ‘civilized’ mostly consisted of making others feel comfortable in one’s presence — not assuming an unjustified air of superiority and using it to look down on those one considers ‘inferior’.
“As for your feelings about me personally,” he continued, “You may be surprised to learn that I agree with you. The episode to which you refer is not one of which I am proud; but I have no intention of defending myself or my actions to a subordinate. I will say only that it was an aberration — not typical behavior for me.
“Now. For good or ill, you are the senior Commander aboard. I can do three things with you; give you command of Starhopper, make you Flag Captain of Vir Rekesh, or retain command myself with you as exec.
“I’ve decided on the third alternative. Starhopper ’s crew is all outerworlder. I will not subject them to a skipper who considers them inferiors. For the same reason, I’m not going to appoint you Flag Captain. You’ve served as the exec of a cruiser before. You’ve done it well enough to retain the position. How you’ve been able to successfully do that despite being an arrogant snob and while retaining such silly prejudices, I confess I don’t understand. But by the time this mission is over, I will know whether you’re as effective as your manner indicates you think you are.”
He sighed. “Now, sit down, Commander, and let’s figure out how to make this ship as battle-ready as possible as quickly as possible.”
To-Ling reluctantly took a seat and for the next half hour they discussed the situation aboard the Rekesh. As their discussion continued her reluctant air slowly dissipated, and soon she was animated and enthusiastic. As long as the discussion remained professional, her snobbery was not evident. But as Kas brought the discussion to a close, her arrogance reasserted itself, and Kas shook his head as she stalked stiffly out of the room. San To-Ling was going to require watching.
The next officer summoned to Kas’ cabin was Var Ler-Traken, Kas’ next senior officer. Ler-Traken was the opposite of To-Ling. Tall and distinguished-looking, he could have been a vid star. But if anything, Ler-Traken seemed even more unhappy than To-Ling. With him it showed in a black scowl and growled surliness.
Kas sighed and briefly wished for the days when he had only the five crewmembers aboard Starhopper to concern him. “All right, Commander. You’ve made it obvious that you’re unhappy. Tell me about it. And you can be honest.”
The scowl faded slightly. “I’m sorry it shows so much, Commodore. But not very sorry. I was in transit when I was grabbed for this mission. I had orders to command of a destroyer, Harpy.”
Kas nodded. “And of course, such orders are usually followed shortly by promotion to Captain.” Ler-Traken nodded.
Kas sighed. “I’m sorry about that, Commander. But this mission is vital, and I won’t apologize for the best officers available being grabbed for it. I’m sure that if we succeed, the delay will be short. And of course, if we fail…”
A first, faint smile played across the handsome face. “If we fail, we won’t have to worry about it.”
Kas grinned and nodded. “Exactly. Now. As I recall your record, your last assignment was as Captain of a frigate.”
Ler-Traken nodded again. “Yes, sir. Sparrow. We were involved in that border skirmish at Snomish last year.”
Kas straightened. “Of course! You captured a Glory ‘pirate’ intact, right?”
Ler-Traken smiled grimly. “Yes, sir. Of course, she wasn’t a pirate. She was one of those corvettes the Glory bought about fifteen years ago. And that skipper was at least a Swordsir, even if the crew didn’t wear insignia.” The smile faded. “They booby-trapped the airlock, but we were ready for their tricks. When we got aboard without blowing the main fusactor, the crew suicided. The Glory claimed they were pirates, of course. But they had a harder time explaining the ship.”
A smile tugged at Kas’ mouth. “I remember. You caused quite a diplomatic disturbance, Commander. Excellent work.”
Ler-Traken nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
Kas made up his mind. An officer with command and battle experience was just what he needed. And Ler-Traken had not only been good enough to defeat a corvette with a frigate, but smart enough get boarders aboard a Glory ship. Glories were famous for setting booby traps to simultaneously suicide and destroy their enemies. When defeated in battle, they often tried to lure the enemy close aboard and trigger overload of the main fusactor.
“Commander,” he began, “How do you feel about outerworlders?”
Ler-Traken frowned. “I don’t understand, sir. What about them?”
“Do you have any problem with commanding a ship with a crew of them?”
The man shrugged. “Of course not, sir. I don’t care where they’re from. I only care how they perform.” He shot a glance at Kas. “Unless they’re planning to take a swing at me, of course.” he added grimly.
Kas winced, then put on a smile. “I think you’ll find they’re a good crew. I’m giving you Starhopper. I know what she looks like,” he added hurriedly as a scowl began to darken the handsome face, “but there’s a lot more there than meets the eye.” He shrugged. “Much of the success of this mission is going to depend upon you and Starhopper. You’re going to have to function as my eyes and ears. I can’t even move Rekesh until you go let the diplomats know to begin negotiating passage for her through other systems’ space.”
The big man nodded. “I guess that means I’ll be warping out almost immediately.” He looked pleased now, his annoyance abated by a new command and a mission.
Kas nodded. “Yes, but you’ll still be ‘undercover’, pretending to be a trader, until the cookie pushers can negotiate passage for two Empire warships. And you can’t go to the system we’d originally planned. There’s an Alliance base there, and I barely managed to lie my way through. Naturally, you can’t show up in ‘my’ ship.
“So, you’ll go to the next-closest system with an Empire consulate, a place called ‘Remor’.” He shrugged. “I don’t know anything about it, but my resident expert tells me you needn’t worry about strict customs inspections.” He smiled. “’Laid back’ was the term she used. I gather that means things are pretty loose there — or at least, informal.”
Ler-Traken frowned. “‘Resident expert’… does that mean someone who knows more about the area than Fleet Intelligence? I hope?”
Kas grinned. “Much more. She and her crewman are traders, born and raised out here. You’ll be meeting them. In fact, you’ll be dropping them off on Remor. We sort of rescued them from a Glory corvette, and they’ve been quite a help in getting us out here alive.”
Ler-Traken’s frown deepened. “You’re saddling me with civilians, sir? What about when we get to this Remor? What’s to keep them from turning us all in? For all we know, there’s a big reward for Starhopper and her crew.”
Kas’ grin faded and he nodded. “True. But I’m certain they won’t betray us. They’re Alliance citizens, but Remor isn’t an Alliance system. They’re also known to have helped us when they could have betrayed us. I doubt they’d be considered heroes by the Alliance.” He shrugged. “Besides, I know them now. I trust her — them.” His tone held an element of finality.
Ler-Traken’s frown remained, but he nodded firmly. “Yes, sir. I guess the trip out here was pretty interesting.”
Kas’ grin was back. “I’m not sure ‘interesting’ is the word I’d use, but it certainly wasn’t boring.” He straightened. “Now, Captain, There is one other thing I want to mention before you get busy. Starhopper ’s crew. They’re all outies, as I mentioned. But more importantly, they’ve spent the last several months struggling to hide the fact they were military, to appear to be traders. They’ve worked hard, and they’re very convincing, which will help on Remor. But of course, once you leave there, you’ll need to reimpose the military manners and courtesies to which you’re accustomed.” He fidgeted and flushed. “I guess what I’m doing is suggesting that you consider that when you see lapses. I…”
“Are you ordering me to relax my insistence on military conduct, sir?” The tone was carefully neutral.
Kas shook his head violently. “No! I… ah, Sheol. I guess I was. Even though I know better than to tell a captain how to run his ship. My apologies, Captain. Of, course; you’ll do as you think best. Just consider it an advance explanation of any lapses that might occur.”
Ler-Traken nodded. “Yes, sir. But have you considered that a tight ship might be the best way to minimize those lapses and get them back to their military selves?” Kas looked thoughtful, and Ler-Traken continued, “Don’t worry, Commodore. I’ll try to base my opinion of the crew on their efficiency, not any minor lapses in military courtesy.”
Kas sighed with relief. “Thank you, Captain. Believe me; it wasn’t easy to try to break their military conditioning. I just hope it’ll be easier to restore it.”
The two set to planning Starhopper ’s mission, and by the time they were finished, Kas had relaxed considerably. Yes, there would be problems with Tremling and To-Ling, but hopefully those problems would involve their personalities rather than their effectiveness. He was certain he could count on Ler-Traken. And his first impressions of young Wansung were largely favorable despite his early false steps. Inner-versus outer-world attitudes had been developing and hardening Empire-wide for a number of years. It wasn’t unreasonable for the man to assume Kas would have strong feelings on the subject.
He sighed deeply, then began calling in his six Lieutenant Commanders. They would serve as Department Heads aboard Rekesh, though those were normally Commanders’ billets. Three of them were staff, and only three were line.
Below the command level, the most responsibility would undoubtedly rest with Til Be’Rak, a strikingly attractive redhead, and the senior Astrogation staff officer aboard. Despite her name, Be’Rak was an innerworlder. Kas’ interview showed her to be friendly, outgoing and gregarious. Her seductive appearance and smiling manner made her easy to underestimate and dismiss, but Kas knew that she had to be highly competent for Captain Froud to have drafted her for such an essential position.
Wor Sha-Tren was an Engineering staff officer. Rough edged and surly, he made an exasperated Kas wonder what it was about the engineering specialty that attracted misfits and malcontents. Sha-Tren was from a wealthy innerworld family, and considered his assignment to Rekesh a betrayal of an “arrangement” his family had made permitting him to stay on Prime. After only a few minutes, a seething Kas dismissed the abrasive officer to the care of Tremling.
Vol Ra-Lavon was no big improvement. Kas’ only Supply staff officer, Ra-Lavon stated in the first few moments of their conversation “with all due respect” that he felt Kas should have been shot for assaulting an innerworld Admiral. Kas was unsure whether the man was more upset that Lu-Jenks had been an Admiral or that he’d been an innerworlder. With no real choice, Kas appointed Ra-Lavon Admin as well as Supply Officer. But Kas was afraid the man would become one of his biggest problems.
Coincidentally, all of his line Lieutenant Commanders were outerworlders.
Senior among them was Con Vertring. Vertring had two years’ experience as Executive Officer of a corvette. He seemed competent, if a bit of a ‘book’ officer. He seemed to go to great lengths to mimic innerworld manners, even to the extent of denigrating outerworlders. Kas appointed him Assistant Operations officer.
Bru Raskin seemed the extreme opposite of Vertring. Indeed, the man seemed a veritable cartoon of an outerworlder. He seemed to enjoy using the coarsest of outerworld mannerisms to scandalize and irritate innerworlders, whom he considered effete snobs. At first Kas wondered how such a coarse loudmouth had attained the rank of Lieutenant Commander, but he learned that Raskin had never been stationed on an inner world. Kas seemed to remember the man’s fitness reports hadn’t been particularly good in any area except gunnery. With crossed fingers and desperate hopes, Kas appointed him Gunnery Officer.
Kas had purposely saved Lordsgrace Worshipful for last. A small, rather voluptuous brunette, she was one of the three that had served with Kas before. Worshipful’s parents had been defectors from the Glory. Kas had known her casually, and knew she was very sensitive about this. In compensation, she had always been very vocal about her contempt for the Glory, and indeed for anyone with religious beliefs. When he’d known her as a junior Lieutenant, she had always seemed to be on a crusade to prove herself as good as the best of the others. Kas had a few reservations about her attitudes toward her more devout colleagues, but he knew that her relentless drive to excel had made her an outstanding officer, if somewhat stiff and formal. After giving her some pointed hints about religious tolerance, Kas appointed her Environmental/Commissary Officer, responsible for the maintenance of living spaces, laundry, and food and beverage preparation.
Of the other twelve officers, nine were Lieutenants, with five to ten years’ service. Five of the nine were staff officers, including two Engineering officers, two Comp amp; Comm officers, and an Astrogator.
The other four were general line officers. Kas had served with two of them when they were Ensigns, fresh from the academy. He ignored their previous acquaintance, and assigned two of them to Gunnery and Fire Control under Raskin. One of the others went to Supply, and the last he assigned to Wansung as Assistant Operations and Helm Officer.
Finally Kas had three Lieutenants, Junior Grade. With two to four years’ Fleet service, they occupied the second-lowest rung on the officer ladder. Thankfully, Kas had been spared any Ensigns, though he was authorized to commission any NCO’s he found suitable. Two of the JG’s were assigned to Worshipful, and the last to Gunnery under Raskin.
By the time Kas had finished interviewing his officers, Starhopper was nearly ready to break orbit. He hurried to suit up and cross to her. He didn’t want to miss the opportunity to bid farewell to Lar Tennig and, of course, to Lady Jane.
The man-settled universe is a huge place, and attitudes toward male — female relationships run the gamut from the Glory, where extramarital physical contact of any type other than hand-holding is punishable by death for both parties, to places where nudity is common and sexual contact as casual as a handshake.
Lady Jane had been sharing his bed aboard Starhopper for some time, and Kas was fairly certain her mores were as liberal as his own, or nearly so. Still, he couldn’t avoid a sense of guilt and responsibility.
He was relieved when she seemed to take their separation with a reluctance and tinge of regret that matched his own slight wistfulness perfectly. He firmly quashed a constant urge to ask her to move aboard the Rekesh before Starhopper boosted. Once they began moving the cruiser back toward the Empire, there would probably be no chance to drop off passengers. He gave her the remaining cash Empire Intelligence had given him as compensation for their help, and promised to swear if asked that he had coerced their help. Finally, Ler-Traken was hovering around; trying to delicately tell his Commodore the ship was ready to boost and to get the Sheol off! and Kas could delay no longer.
Back aboard the Rekesh, Kas cursed as Starhopper was swallowed up almost immediately by the blackness of space. He didn’t even have the consolation of watching her fade into the distance. He sighed with regret and entered the airlock.
He had no chance to dwell on his loss, however. There was simply too much to do.
His most immediate problem was the habitability of the huge ship. With life support restored, blood, bits of flesh and even body parts that had been missed by the searchers had begun to rot. The stench was nearly unbearable, and permeated the entire ship. The only-partially-restored life support system was simply unable to cope with the problem.
Working parties had dispersed throughout the ship trying to clean up the mess. It was a nasty job, and the NCOs were forced to become increasingly rough to keep the ratings at work. Kas actually had to caution his officers to give the NCOs a loose rein, and to ‘not see’ many infractions.
But as he returned through the Rekesh ’s airlock and unsuited, he encountered one of the working parties, and noted they were all wearing breathing apparatus usually used for exploration work on worlds where harmful trace elements had to be filtered from the atmosphere. He asked the petty officer in charge of the party about the masks.
The man shrugged. “The Chief brought ‘em around to us a couple hours ago,” he replied. “Chief said Lieutenant Commander Worshipful got the supply officer to pull ‘em from stores.” He sighed. “Sure makes a difference, sir. It’s still a nasty job, but at least now we don’t haveta stop every few minutes to barf!”
Kas dismissed the man, and continued to his cabin. He was impressed. Not only had Worshipful thought of the breathers, she’d somehow managed to get an innerworld bigot like Ra-Lavon to pull and issue them without Kas’ signature on a dozen requisition forms. This was the best news he’d had since boarding the Rekesh. It seemed that at least one of his officers was on the ball. In fact, maybe two of them. He determined to find out how willingly Ra-Lavon had participated. Maybe the man wasn’t such a hopeless prig after all.
But the smell wasn’t the only problem aboard the huge ship. When he reached his cabin, he saw urgent messages from the head of the civilian contingent installing the new AI, his new Chief Astrogator, and, of course, Roi Tremling, his Chief Engineer. He sighed, and got ready for a long day. He sighed again. Okay, make that a longer day!