"Well, Captain Beyda," Kallan looked at the last file and sighed, "it's time to find out who you really are."
Pushing four folders to one side, Lt James found exactly what she'd expected in the personnel records of Bruce "Ozzy" Wilson, Martin "Gonzo" Hays, Douglas "Gulliver" Schmelling and Will "Blue" Channing. They'd gained their initial diving experience before joining the IRO. Their careers followed a standard pathway. Attending the IRO academy, then posting to search and rescue teams' due to their previous scuba experience. They had all gained higher qualifications through sponsorship to give them greater flexibility within their current roles and IRO generally. As a team, Kallan needed to keep them together, to encourage their cooperation and increase their skill level. They'd need the cohesiveness to get through her course.
"I have a feeling," Lt James spoke aloud opening the last file, "you're a very different individual. There's not going to be anything standard about you."
She began to read, not surprised by the rapid promotion or number of positive commendations. Graduating with degrees in Aeronautics and Engineering at age twenty, Dylan Beyda entered IRO flight school in 76. Apart from the infamous crash, he held an exemplary record. Sent to Moonbase Omega then posted to TB6, he completed his masters in the newly designated science of Astro-Engineering. Currently assigned to Arcology, he had no formal diving qualifications but certificates for just about everything else. Picking up a copy of his dive log book, the neat, precise script started at the age of eight. Dylan Beyda catalogued almost a thousand dives in the twenty years since. Turing to the final page, Kallan noticed the signature of the Dive Master on his last adventure. A smile crossed her face. She knew the man well and wasn't above using the connection to get the real story.
"Lt James of Federation Marine Research Base requesting contact with IRO command," she spoke into her communicator. Aware she had less than ten minutes until the students arrived and maybe another five until they made it to the Gilligan, she waited for a response.
"IRO command, how may I direct your call," the feminine voice responded.
"Is Captain Kin Lee accepting calls?" she requested. Answering in the negative, Kallan asked, "may I leave a message for Captain Lee to contact Lt Kallan James at his earliest convenience."
"To what," the slightly accented voice asked exactly two minutes later, "do I owe the pleasure when I haven't seen you since passing your Dive Master six years ago?"
"Do I have to have a reason," she smiled, "to talk to my favourite mentor?"
"Kallan," the older man sounded like her father, "you have a reason for everything you do. Your tactics don't fool me. You need something only I can provide."
"Caught," she laughed easily. "I need to ask you about a Captain named Dylan Beyda. You signed off on his last dive. He's about to arrive and attempt his Dive Master, logging hundreds of hours without passing his open water."
"He's second only to you in an aquatic environment," Kin Lee stated, "and I should know. I've trained both of you."
"How'd he managed to take your notice," she asked in a confused tone.
"The same way you did. You're a natural, Kallan," Lee responded, a note of amusement in his voice. "So is Dylan. He's analytical, dedicated and focused. A lack of formal qualifications is an almost unforgivable oversight on his part. Be warned, you won't be able to tell what he's thinking. That mind of his is always going but he prefers to work alongside the main team rather than directly with it. If he is in trouble, you'll be the last to know so watch him."
"You could be describing me, Lee" she teased.
"Yes," the captain agreed, "you're a lot alike in many respects. He'll pass, probably more effortlessly than is good for his ego, but make him work for it. If you make it to easy, it won't mean as much."
"I intend to," she promised before signing off. A loner, Kallan turned thoughtful. Now I really will have to change the sleeping arrangements. I understand wanting your own space. It's one of the positives spending so much time on Gilligan.
Gathering the personnel records, Lt James headed for her usual berth. Quickly removing any sign of her habitation, she stowed her kit and the files in Ziggy's cabin. A glance at her watch and Kallan didn't have the time to change out of her flight suit. Hurrying through the main cabin, Goose had the welcome drinks out. Everything seemed ready. Taking a deep breath, Kallan James stepped out onto the open deck.
"Here they come," Goose stood beside his friend, watching the five men descend the long staircase to the water level.
"Let the games begin," Kallan answered back, a tightness surrounding her lips.
"Get you kit and move out," the Sergeant bellowed the moment their aircraft touched down at the Marine Research Centre.
The IRO transport let them off beside a smaller runabout craft. Dylan could see heat rising from the engines, a sure sign it had been used in the last hour or so. The pilot within knew he could make that landing easily. However, the vertical decent onto a platform less than fifty metres in diameter had been a somewhat harrowing experience for the Sydney crew. The flight deck rose ten metres above the water. Looking around, the five men found themselves surrounded by ocean as far as the horizon on all sides.
"Move where?" Martin asked, confused.
Pointing to an open section on the rim, they made their way over as the heli-plane took off. Stairs lead down to a dock hugging the side of the construction. The Marine Centre's main entrance to the right, weather proof doors surrounded the entry portal. A pier jutted out to the left on a calm ocean. In the last pen, a flat backed dive boat swayed gently on the green sea.
"Main base is underwater, thirty metres below us," Sgt Belvedere commented. "The science crew lives and works in the marine environment. You're to report directly to Dive Master James on The Gilligan." Pointing to the lonely boat, Jim stated with a knowing smile, "good luck, gentlemen, you're going to need it."
"Why," Bruce returned the grin accompanied by an impish note in his tone. Glancing towards Beyda, Wilson wondered at the reception the captain would generate. Suspecting who he'd find on the boat, Ozzy decided to play Dylan at his own game. It might win him a few points with their dive instructor. "We've all got years of diving experience. This should be a breeze."
Keeping his face straight, Sgt Jim Belvedere affected a neutral tone. "You'll find out. Don't say I didn't warn you."
Snickering, the overly confident four-man team swaggered towards the boat. Dylan allowed them to go ahead. He wanted to see their expression when they realised Lt James and the Olympic athlete were one and the same. Forewarned, he wondered just how professional the woman could be. The Sergeant regarded their dive master highly, wiping out Dylan's intended flirtatious behaviour toward the junior female officer. His unique brand of humour typically won over most women on first meeting them. He'd see how she received the other four then play his cards accordingly.
Captain Beyda's earlier buoyant mood deflated the moment he noticed her. Standing on the side of the boat in a heavy flight suit, she had to be overheating with the midmorning sun beating down on the exposed deck. Taking the attire in her stride, cool grey eyes swept over the ravel coming towards her position. A scowl on her face, she scrutinised each of them individually and as a group. Dylan could see her active mind taking in every aspect and assigning them to a personality and learning type.
The young-looking lieutenant had done this before, plenty of times by the ease with which she dismissed them. Singling him out, their eyes clashed for a moment. The silent warning obvious, Dylan wondered how long she'd been observing them. Speculating the flight suit might be a deliberate move to unnerve him, a shiver ran the length of his spine. This wouldn't be the walk in the park Captain Beyda assumed. He'd need to tread very carefully and give the assignment everything he had in order to pass. Something told him this woman might just have his number and be willing to use it.
"Gentlemen," Kallan's small frame effectively stopped the five men entering her domain. "My name is Lt Kallan James. I'm going to be your Instructor for the next five days. Let's get one thing straight before you come aboard. You can leave your rank and position on the dock. It'll still be there when you return."
Giving each man time to acknowledge her words, she continued. "The Gilligan is my ship and it only has one Captain." Glaring at the dark-haired man lagging behind the others, she laid down her challenge. From the look on his face, he understood. "If I say jump, you say how high."
"Yes, sir," Dylan answered with a smart salute.
Shocked by the woman before them, they knew Beyda played them on the way out. Turning to him, the Australian contingent understood most of the dressing down had little to do with them. However, they followed his lead. While they might be impressed with his status, this woman obviously wasn't. Appearing as though they knew each other previously, it backed up Bruce's earlier assumption of a relationship gone bad. An advantage Dylan hadn't considered but might just find a use for.
"Now we have that sorted out," Kallan allowed her usually good-natured grin to cross her face, "welcome aboard. Once you cross the plank, call me Kallan. We're fairly informal on board, using first or nick names. There are two crew members beside myself. Dr Hans Ziggerman," he came to the railing on the fly bridge when he heard his name and waved. "Ziggy is our Marine Biologist and Skipper for this cruise. Ben Gorse is our general hand."
"Hi," Ben nodded. "My call sign's Goose, that's what most people call me."
Leading the pack, Bruce took the opportunity to cross onto the boat. Testing the waters, he put on a provocative act. "Bruce Wilson, call me Ozzy," he held out a hand to Kallan.
"Not as in ostrich I hope," Kallan fired back, taking the limb with a perfunctory shake, "you're going to need your head out of the sand for the next few days, Ozzy. Your bunking with Will Channing on the lower deck, cabin B."
Giving her a dirty look, he wouldn't try to flirt again. Effectively shut down, he glowered at Beyda. The man looked impassively back.
Obviously, she knows exactly who we are. She's probably read our files, Bruce realised, and knows the extent of our diving experience. I want to know the relationship between her and Beyda. I don't think it's exactly what he's lead us to believe. The animosity between them is making the air sizzle.
Hearing his name, Will offered, "that's me. Call sign Blue."
"Of course," Kallan offered her hand, "what else would a bunch of Australian's call a redhead Scotsman."
Taking up the challenge in Bruce's glare, Dylan stepped onto the deck beside their instructor. "Dylan Beyda," he announced with a perfectly executed traditional Japanese bow.
Returning the gesture stiffly, Kallan's expression gave nothing away. "Main level, forward cabin," she offered.
"I guess that leaves Martin Hays and me," the largest man in the group smiled shyly pointing out his companion, "Doug Schmelling."
"Do they call you Tiny," Kallan asked, a genuine smile covering her lips. Trying to make the gentle giant feel more comfortable, she extruded a friendly atmosphere.
"No ma'am," he couldn't stop the blush covering his face, "Gulliver."
"Just make sure the little people don't tie you up in knots. Lower level, cabin A, Gulliver," she turned to the final individual.
"Gonzo," Martin offered his call sign, rubbing his nose.
"I gather," Kallan pointed to the four, "you work together."
"Sydney Ocean Rescue base," Bruce announced easily, finding the information didn't surprise the blond. Giving her an assessing stare, Kallan returned his gaze with a steady determination.
"I'll take you all below and show you around. You can stow your gear and then come back to the main deck so we can get underway," Ben indicated the door into the living area.
Lagging behind, Dylan looked around, his gaze taking in the rear of the boat. "I'd like to stow my dive gear," he stated.
"We provided everything you need," Kallan eyed the heavy kit in his right hand.
"Does the Marine Centre," he pointed out the neon pink accented wetsuit, matching buoyance vest, flippers, snorkel and mask, "supply individualised equipment?"
"The Dive Master," she stated with an assessing gleam in her eye, "needs to be instantly recognisable to the class. I know the state and safety level of every item used in training students aboard this vessel."
"All the same," Dylan nodded, his deft fingers neatly arranging his gear next to hers, "I don't like leaving things to chance. I'm more comfortable with what I know. You're welcome to check it over before we dive. You'll find it's well maintained and in excellent condition."
Allowing the man to finish, she pointed out a locker for his bag. Watching him, quick nimble movements didn't waist energy. Closing the locker, Dylan made the formal bow then hurried to catch up with the others.
"Well?" Ziggy asked when he'd disappeared.
"He'll behave himself," Kallan observed, "he has to. Not passing could be a career breaker for him. I guess he could just be testing the waters, waiting for an opportunity to demonstrate his ability." Craning her neck, she looked up to the older man on the fly bridge, "I called Kin Lee at Arcology to get a background. I wouldn't like to be in the captain's shoes if he upsets me."
Giving the woman a hearty chuckle, Ziggy perceived, "so that's the reason for your posturing. I saw the moment the captain got the message loud and clear. Giving him your cabin is going to create issues."
"I'd rather have him were I can watch him," Kallan grinned back. "I'll get Goose to share and take the bunk in the maintenance bay."
"Kallan, your births barely large enough for you and you're not that big," Ziggy gasped.
"It's no bigger than the cabins I've put the Sydney Boys in," she replied.
"The beds conform to the shape of the bow, joining and making them shorter, not to mention awkward to sleep on. At least the lower cabins have bunk beds with a little floor space," Ziggy shook his head. "Putting two men in there, even I'm not that cruel. Take mine," he offered, "I'll sleep up here on the fly bridge, you know I do most of the time anyway. That way you won't upset Goose. Besides, you'll be better able to keep an eye on our special guest from next door."