Steel Walls and Dirt Drops (8 page)

Chapter
Eleven

The rest of Britaine's briefing was the dry dull business of various departments reading through canned speeches about department preparedness. She was only interested when the female chief master sergeant and the junior-grade major from intelligence tried to give an update on possible Binder activity in the Altec System. Britaine listened with ill-concealed impatience through the major's portion, but cut the chief short in mid-sentence. He ended the briefing with a command to put anything else on the general command net for review later.

Misha headed toward her day office. She intended to make use of what little downtime
was left to read through any deployment orders and the attendant data blizzard that normally followed. Just as she was passing the AMSF medical bay, Gan Forrester stepped through a hatch. She avoid knocking him to the deck again only by quick maneuvering on both their parts.

"Damn, Misha
," he said with a smile. "We've got to get our schedules coordinated. You seem to be making a habit of trying to knock me on my butt."

Misha smiled back. "They didn't build this transport with much elbow room for petite women like
me. Are you coming from medical? No damage from our first collision, I hope?"

"No
, no, no. I am bruised, but I'll live. It was my own fault anyway. I should have been watching where you were going. I was helping a crewman who slammed into a bulkhead when we left the station. It is just a broken collarbone. We do not have a very happy bunch of spacers on this craft. There seems to be quite a number of bumps and bruises with a few broken bones here and there."

"Really? I know Britaine didn't give the
APES much warning, but I would have thought he would have at least alerted his own crew."

"
I haven’t quite figured our good captain out. I may be wrong only having known him for a short while, but he seems to like the sense of power that comes from being the only one who knows what is going on. It must be more than a little frustrating being subordinate to that man. Still, I am sure if Britaine told his own crew, then your boy and girls would have picked it up through the rumor-net. You have got a couple of good second-levels on your team. I hear that Jackson and Takki-Home regularly sit in on various enlisted crew briefings. Besides, as commander of the ground forces, you have access to any broadcast Britaine issues to the crew."

"Excuse me?" Misha looked puzzled. "I know I am a new
third, but I don't recall hearing that in any of my training."

"Oh, it isn't quite official. It really is an old back
door trick from the early glass-pack programming days. Call up crew orders for any spacecraft you are assigned on and use pass-command control slash alt A. You’ll learn anything the crew learns. It sometimes takes a ton of reading, but you would be surprised what information gets dumped into open cyberspace."

"Sergeant Forrester
-" Misha began.

"Gan, if you please
," he interrupted.

"Gan,
I am heading to my office. You just earned yourself a free cup of coffee."

"
Can I get a rain check? I promised to stop by the intelligence shop after the command briefing to meet with Buzz and the Chief. By the way, weren't you intelligence during your AMSF tour?"

"
You seem to know entirely too much. What gives?"

"Oh, nothing, my d
ear, it is just what an old data pusher remembers reading in the newscasts. Hero of Guinjundst and all of that, you know."

"No. I don't know.
I've seen and read most of the drivel spouted about me. I don't remember any mention anywhere about what I did with my time in the AMSF."

Forrester
smiled, "Well, what do you know?! Huh, I must have read it somewhere. I'll let you know if I remember where, is that okay? Anyway, with your background, you should stop by and meet with the intel pukes on this craft. They are the best duo outside of the Marshal's Service."

"I will do that, Gan. Thanks, but I need to spend some time with my squad."

"Ah, such are the pressures of command. Well, Misha, look me up if you have some time for a real sit-down meal together. I would like to hear your side of what happened on Guinjundst. I'll take you up on that free coffee, but I am buying the food. I have seen what you APES call rations and thanks, but no thanks."

Misha laughed, "I know what you mean. They are meant to keep you alive, but not fat. How about
lunch since it is almost lunch time? I do have a few questions for you, too."

Forrester
cocked his head sideways, like a bird checking out an unusual bug, "Lunch would be great, but I have been led to believe you will be dining with Britaine and his staff." At Misha's puzzled expression, he said. "Well, I am sure the invitation is in the mail. Let's plan on lunch tomorrow?"

Misha said, "You are one strange man, Gan. How do you know about
my lunch schedule for today?"

Forrester
waved a dismissive hand, "Like I said, I am just a data pusher. My job is to gather information, collate it and put the reports together. I happened to see the mess steward's lunch list. It's no big deal. It is posted on the net. And by the way, I wouldn't mention finding AMSF data on the shipnet to too many AMSF officers if you know what I mean."

"A
ll right, Gan. I'll buy that for now. Look, tomorrow morning I have scheduled unarmored hand-to-hand combat training and evaluations for my command. Stop by our training bay and we can do lunch together."

"Great
," Forrester replied. "May I stop by early and watch? I am just a passenger, you know, so I don't have any other duties to get in my way."

"Better yet, come by
even earlier and you can work out with us. It would do you good. I promise not to pit you against someone too tough."

"
It is a deal for tomorrow morning. What time?"

Misha smiled. "Well, I am sure you will be able to find that out on your own.
I will see you tomorrow morning."

Forrester
pointed a finger down the corridor behind Misha. She turned and watched the approach of a pair of Kiirkegaard's security forces. The two stopped before her and came to attention.

"Sir
," a sergeant, the shorter of the two, said, "Captain Britaine extends his compliments and requests we escort you to the captain's mess for midday meal."

Misha nodded
, "One moment, please." As if speaking into the thin air Misha continued, "All seconds and Trooper Singletary?" The glass-pack relayed the comm quickly and she received a chorus of responses to her query. "Mr. Moraft, run a quick damage assessment on our takeoff.  Comm my glass-pack with the data as it becomes available. Security rotations go into place per SOP. Everyone not on security takes down time. We will have at least nine days before the drop. That is not much time, but we need to be fresh when we get there. I will want bright and shining faces in the training bay tomorrow AM." Misha heard a chorus of ‘roger that’ from her comms. She continued, "I will be dining with Colonel Britaine for lunch. Good will among services and all that crap. Singletary, you make sure it is down time in our squad."

"Roger that."

"I mean down time. I don't care if they crawl into their bunks with each other, but if they do, then the blast shutters go down and so does the noise level. If someone is sacked out, I don't want to hear they were awakened because someone was having a loud personal conversation with the gods. Got me?"

"Yes,
sir. You don't care how we relax, just so we don't disturb anybody else."

"Correct
and keep it within regulations. Plus, I will be back shortly for some sack time of my own. So, if someone is inclined to gripe about their new squad leader, send them somewhere else."

"Sir?" Misha could hear the smile in
Takki-Homi's voice. "You don't mind if we complain, just so long as you don't have to listen to it?"

"Taks
," she replied. "It is every grunts right to complain about life, death, taxes, crazy family members, squad members, the size of the member between their legs, and heaven forbid, even their own squad leaders. I expect to hear all complaints anyone wants to share with me. I just don't want to hear it while I am trying to get some sleep. Comprende, tovarich?"

"
Oui, mein fraulien. I stand corrected."

"Anyone else? No? Okay then you
APES take your down time like grown-ups before I change my mind." Turning to the two Security Spacers, Misha smiled. "I am sorry for the delay, gentlemen. I had to check in with the team first. Please lead the way. So, are you two my escorts for this little jaunt or are you my guards?"

Neither man smiled, but the sergeant said, "Sir,
truth be told, I don't really care which. If I have to call in a squad to drag you to see the captain for your private little get together, that is what I am gonna do and I don’t care whether you like it or not."

Misha halted in mid-stride. "Excuse me?"

"Sorry, sir, if we could continue on to the captain's mess, please. I meant no disrespect."

"The hell you say. You meant to be disrespectful, but I don't give a rat's ass about that. Why should you care about what goes on between Britaine and me?"

The man looked ready to bust, but just shook his head.

"Come on. Give it
," Misha demanded.

"Right! Like you care!"
the tall spacer spoke bitterly.

"True enough,
spacer," Misha nodded to their surprise. "I may not care, but on the other hand, I might. I won't know until I hear what is eating at you two. This is just between us working stiffs."

The sergeant blurted, "All right, dammit. You sort of pissed off the old man. I don
’t thank you for that. Look, you've been around long enough to make third, so you know shit runs down hill. Well, we live deep in the valley. And the hilltop on this spacecraft is shitty enough that it makes us valley dwellers ready to build a raft just to float away at the first opportunity."

"Roger that, Sergeant. I apologize. Please lead on." Misha couldn't help but wonder what kind of officer would treat his people with
enough disrespect to engender such a hostile attitude.

All too soon her escort delivered her to the
captain's mess. It was a corner of the officer's mess with temporary walls. Already seated was a group of officers, each with pilot's wings. Misha nodded to the steward as he gestured towards an open chair.

Shortly after Britaine’s grand entrance,
Misha found herself listening to a first lieutenant lecturing her about vectors, azimuths and target acquisition. All of which was common knowledge to anyone who had ever fought in an APES combat suit. However, she let him ramble on and on as listening was easier than participating in small talk. And so what if the lieutenant was condescending in his tone? At least, the food was good and the wine was excellent, although she would rather have had a decent cold beer.

Colonel Britaine interrupted the lieutenant's spiel. "Third McPherson?"
he asked. Misha could hear his voice grate as he tried to sound pleasant. "I hear you have been doing a bit of house cleaning?"

"Yes,
sir, we just had a few items to clear away before our destination. Speaking of clearing away, I would like to request the use of some of your cargo crew to assist in clearing our training bay. It seems that some excess items have been dumped there instead of a cargo hold."

"Well, Misha. We don't normally allow shop talk at the dinner table."

"I am sorry, Colonel. I thought your question about my housekeeping chores was an invitation to discuss business."

"Perfectly understandable, s
ince this is your first meal with us, we will let it slide this time," Britaine said.

"First
meal, Colonel?" she asked.

Britaine smiled, "Of course. It is traditional in my outfit to have all staff officers dine together
at least once each day. Although you are probably the lowest ranking officer on the ship, you are in command of the ground forces. So, I would expect you to attend our lunches. It would improve our relations, don't you think? After all, we are going to be in bed together, so to speak, for the next few days or so."

Misha blushed at the snickers around the table over Britaine's carefully couched sexual innuendo. She noticed the young lieutenant next to her had the grace to blush and look away.

"Colonel, I am not sure I understand your reference," she said.

"Come now, Misha. Surely, a little inter-service cooperation would help to pass the transport time. A charming young lady like
you could do worse for herself than getting to know me better or even some of my staff for that matter."

Misha couldn't tell whether the man was being sexually suggestive or just trying to bait her. She decided it was best to let it drop.
"Colonel. As much as I have enjoyed your meal and the charms of this intelligent lieutenant, I must pass on your invitation to dine with you regularly."