No Honor in Death (27 page)

Before Siobhan could speak, another gunner, clad in a bigger, bulkier suit, climbed down the ladder and joined the first one.  The new arrival nudged her companion and removed her helmet, revealing sweat-slicked, short brown hair.

"Captain,"  she nodded politely, standing at attention.

"How are you Rownes?"

Beside Banger, Demianova also removed her helmet and tucked it under her left arm.

"Fine, sir," Banger replied, her expression guarded.

"Practicing under emergency conditions?"  Siobhan tried to project a relaxed demeanour, but the two gunners' faces remained bland.

"Aye, sir.  Mister Devall has been running us through just about every simulation he could think of.  Did us a lot of good."  She pulled off a glove and ran her hand through her wet hair.  "We worked for our pay today, and that's no error."

Siobhan nodded, smiling at Rownes' solemn, yet satisfied tone.  She clearly enjoyed hard work.  The Captain was about to ask another question when the intercom beeped loudly in the turret housing.

"Devall to Rownes."

Banger glanced at the intercom and then back at the Captain.  Siobhan nodded to go ahead and answer.  While Rownes went over, Siobhan examined Demianova.    Her face was familiar now that she no longer wore a helmet.

Banger touched the intercom pad.  "Rownes, sir."

"Start collecting your bets from your fellow gun captains, Spacer.  You got a perfect score on the last run, and you were the only gun team to make it.  Congratulations."

"Thank you, sir."

"Don't thank me, Rownes, thank yourselves.  You can stand down now.  That was the last simulation for the day.  If I call you to the guns again before tomorrow, it'll be to get a crack at a real, live Shrehari.  Devall, out."

Though neither woman smiled, their eyes reflected the pride they felt in receiving praise from their divisional officer.  Siobhan was glad to see that, because it showed good morale.  And it showed that Devall was taking his duties to heart, drilling his gun crews on his own time.  Rownes took her place at Demianova's side again.  Siobhan looked the younger woman in the eyes.  Now she remembered.  Not much, only a vague picture on a ship that no longer existed.

"You served with me on the
Sala-Ad-Din
in sixty-two, didn't you?  Lower main battery, junior gunner's mate on her virgin tour."

Demianova was both surprised and pleased that Dunmoore remembered her from their days on the ill-fated cruiser.  The Captain had been Second Officer then, the third ranking officer on board, while Demmi was just an Ordinary Spacer on her first time out, assigned to the most menial job on the main guns.

"
Da, Kapitan
."

"At ease, both of you.  How's the grub in the lower deck galley these days?"

Her unexpected question threw the two gunners momentarily off track.  Then, Banger smiled for the first time.  "Great, sir.  Nicely varied menu too.  Seems like the cooks found their cookbooks again."

Siobhan laughed at Rownes' knowing look.  "Aye, so it appears.  What say we take a tour of your gun?"

Rownes nodded and turned to climb back up the access ladder.  Demianova politely deferred to the Captain, letting Siobhan follow Banger.  A hard metallic smell assailed Dunmoore's nostrils as she stepped off the ladder into the cramped turret, and she repressed a sneeze.  Rownes saw her facial expression and grinned.

"We always get short-changed when we depressurize the turret."

"How's that?"

"We give 'em perfectly good air and get back this processed crap."

Siobhan smiled at the wry tone.  A starship's emergency tanks always gave captured air an industrial tang, no matter how much the environmental scrubbing system tried to make it more palatable.  In battle, most Captains, including Siobhan, preferred to fight with the gun turrets and vulnerable outer compartments depressurized.  It reduced the damage caused by direct hits, and often let the individual guns keep on fighting.  And it forced the crews to wear full pressure suits, which meant they wouldn't give in to sloppiness and die at the slightest hull breach because of an imperfectly sealed helmet or glove joint.

Number two portside turret housed twin one hundred and five millimetre plasma guns in a low, dome-like shell amidships on the upper side of the main hull.  It could fire in a one-hundred and eighty degree horizontal arc, covering the frigate from bow to stem, and in a ninety degree vertical arc from just above the drive nacelles straight up.

On either side of the turret, between breech and bulkhead were acceleration seats and targeting consoles.  During a controlled ship-to-ship engagement, the computer received its target and firing orders directly from the bridge.  All the gunners had to do was make sure the gun did what it was supposed to, the ammunition feed didn't jam, and be ready to take direct control if the automated systems failed.  Which they often did.

But the gunners really came into their own during a melee, when the battle was too fluid and the bridge too busy firing guided weapons for the system to work properly, especially in a target-rich environment.  Though more dangerous for the ship, gun captains loved melees.  They had total control over their turrets and could engage any target at will within their arcs of fire.  Even with the assistance of the computer, it was a job that demanded skill, dexterity and quick thinking.  Judging by Devall's message a moment ago, Rownes possessed all three.

"Your guns working fine, Rownes?"

"Oh aye, sir.  I maintain 'em myself and they're always ready to blast away at the fucking Imps.  Though, to be honest,"  she scratched the top of her head,  "there's a coupla parts close to needing replacement.  Wear and tear, you see.  This baby moves fast when it's tracking a target, and that's hard on them mechanical parts.  I've had to do a few fixes myself with the old pieces to keep her going."

"Have you reported this to the Gunnery Officer?"

"Aye, sir.  I did three months ago, and three months afore that.  And when we was getting ready to sail this time.  I got a few things from your raid of the starbase stores, " she grinned, "and put 'em in, but a lot is still back-ordered."

Siobhan frowned, leaning on the massive breech of the left tube.  She crossed her arms below her breasts.

"You haven't been getting the parts from the tender runs?"

"Nope.  Mister Devall made sure he checked whenever we got topped-up, but always lots of stuff missing.  And not only for my little babies."  Rownes patted the other tube possessively.

"Yes," Siobhan mused, her eyes locking with Rownes'.  "A lot of strange things going on aboard the
Stingray
under Commander Forenza."

Banger snorted.  "You don't know the half of it, sir."  Then, when she saw the interested look in Siobhan's eyes, her expression changed as she realized she'd betrayed herself.  Rownes glanced at Demianova, but she kept a stony face.

"Want to tell me about it, Rownes?"  Siobhan softly asked.  "I'm getting tired of living under the oath of silence.  You're an old space hand, you know it's no way to run a ship in a war zone."

Again, Banger glanced at Demmi, but this time, the younger woman shrugged.  Slowly, keeping hard eyes focussed on the Captain, Rownes shifted position to lean against the breech of the left-hand tube, facing Siobhan, and crossed her arms.  Then, she jerked her head at Demianova.  "Close the access hatch, Demmi."

She complied silently and then resumed her place near the ladder.

"Okay, Cap'n.  You want to know what went on aboard the barky afore you took her, I'll tell you, 'cause you're right.  Ain't no way to run a ship by treating the Cap'n like a leper.  And you did right by Vince, I mean Able Spacer Vincenzo, and that means a lot to me.  He's a good friend, and a solid mate."  Siobhan didn't reply, but kept her eyes locked with Banger's.  "You wanna know what life was like under Forenza, I'll tell you, Cap'n.  It sure as shit wasn't like life is supposed to be in the Navy."

Rownes took a deep breath.  "Cap'n Forenza liked her ease and didn't like getting her hands dirty.  She lived like a goddamned queen in her cabin, fucking just about any crew member she got the hots for.  And believe me, she got lots of hots.  If you didn't want to do it, she threatened you.  Some got scared, some didn't.  Those who got scared, got to participate in some strange doin's, let me tell  you.  Oh yeah, Cap'n," Rownes said, seeing the look of distaste on Siobhan's face, "ain't ever seen nothing like it, even on some of the less respectable ships I met in my tradin' days."

"I've been on this here ship for nearly two years," Banger continued, anger beginning to feed her words, "and in all that time, we must have run one battle drill a month, if that.  And we haven't seen a bleeding Imp for over six months.  You see, Cap'n Forenza was a fucking coward too, like most bullies.  She got yellow whenever there was a toss-up in the wind.  She also never made an inspection tour, never took a good look at the insides of her ship, and at her crew and never said a kind word to anyone.  At least outside the bedroom, that is.  Mister Pushkin was doing all the work and getting damn-all credit for it.  Hell, I even seen Forenza tear a strip off him in public once.  Only officer the bitch got along with was Mister Shara.  The others hated her guts."

Rownes shook her head in disgust.  "Hell, this fucking ship would have seen a mutiny last New Year's day if Forenza didn't have her little spies on the lower deck.  But she was a great one for keeping people in line.  Ruined a few careers I know of.  She was a bully, but went through with her threats.  Connections, Cap'n.  Good ones.  And there was nothing you could do about it.  Forenza had her nose so deep up Admiral Kaleri's ass, she could get anything she wanted.  A crew member transferred to a shit-hole outpost?"  Rownes snapped her fingers.  "Done. A crew member discharged 'cause he'd crossed her?"  She snapped her fingers again.  "Done, even though it was nothing but a pack of lies.  Ain't no one who stood up to Forenza who got a fair shake."

"Even worse, Cap'n," the ruddy-faced gunner paused and glanced at Demianova before continuing in a softer tone, "four guys offed themselves on this ship in the last six months.  Four. And every one of 'em 'cause they were caught in Forenza's hell.  One of 'em, a kid officer called Rasheed, who couldn't have been a day over twenty-one, shot himself in the head 'cause Forenza was about to put him up on false charges.  He knew the charges would stick and couldn't face the disgrace.  Came from a poor colonist family.  First one who passed through the Academy and became an officer.  No, Cap'n, I dunno why Forenza wanted to get rid of him, but the kid was a good sort.  Would have made a fine gunnery officer some day."

Siobhan felt nauseous at Rownes' all too convincing tale.  She had no problem believing the gunner.  Forenza had tried to make her a victim too long ago..  Maybe there was a bit of exaggeration here and there, but not enough to make a difference.

"Do you know if there's any proof of all this, Rownes?"

The big gunner laughed without humour.  "That's another thing Forenza was good at, Cap'n, keeping her soft fingers clean.  No evidence I know of.  But there ain't a spacer on board who won't be able to tell the same tale or better.  'Specially the officers.  But they're scared shitless.  Like us."

"Why?"

"Like I told you, sir, the bitch had a knack for threatening people into doing what she wanted, and making the threats stick.  When she was relieved to face a Disciplinary Board, she made sure we knew what would happen if we talked too much.  Which means she gets away with it."

"Maybe not this time, Rownes.  Admiral Kaleri can't cover her any more."

Banger shook her head.  "She's fire-proof, Cap'n.  Believe me.  Ain't no one who doesn't want to see her bite the dust, but it would hurt way too much."

Siobhan slowly nodded.  It fit with the image she'd kept of Forenza from the Academy.  There too, her family connections and wealth had protected her from a well-deserved expulsion, while it nearly cut Siobhan's budding career short.  Remembering those days still made Dunmoore's blood boil, and Rownes noticed her growing anger, mistaking it for outrage at the tale she just told.

"Dunno if it's worth keeping on about, Cap'n.  When someone's that fire-proof, you just forget the past and pick up the pieces."

"Except that no one on this ship has forgotten the past, have they?  Anyways, how will Vasser, Melchor and the others pick up the pieces."

Rownes shrugged, a miserable look on her face.  "Sorry, Cap'n I can't help you there."  She looked away, running her fingers absently over the tube of her gun.

"Why not, Rownes?  You've told me more in the last five minutes than the rest of the crew combined in weeks.  Why stop now?"

The gunner's eyes turned back to stare defiantly at Siobhan.  "'Cause there's things it ain't worth your life to talk about.  Them poor sods ain't ever coming back, but I'd like to retire in one piece, and so would everybody else."

"Why would you fear for your life if you discussed an accident with your Captain aboard a starship deep in interstellar space?"  Siobhan tried hard to keep a patient tone.

"You figure it out, sir."

Siobhan was about to press the point when the ship-wide went on.

"Captain to the bridge, I repeat, Captain to the bridge."