Afterburners

by highplainswoman

What is the reaction of the JAG personnel to the announcements coming from McMurphy's little get-together on that Friday night? Especially Lt. Vukovic?

3. New Friends, Old Enemies

Disclaimer: Don't own JAG or the characters. Just playing with what might have happened "off camera" from the season/series finale.

A/N: Anybody out there remember the first case Lt. Vucovik and Col. MacKenzie worked together on in San Diego? If so, sure would like to have someone refresh my memory. Thanks.

A/N: A note about "style". I decided, before starting to write fan fiction, to try to abide by the parameters set up by the professional writers. Sometimes, especially in crossover stories, that can be hard to do. I like my stories, regardless of whether I'm reading them or writing them, to contain as much realism as possible. Where there is "literary license", it's because the pros have taken the same. (I seriously doubt the military would give two senior officers only 72 hours or so to make the kind of massive changes in life the writers have given Harm and Mac—but that literary license was truly justified. The finale was so sweet. . . ) Also, on the literary license "thing", one parameter I set up for myself in this story was to utilize as many "old" characters from the tens years as I could possibly justify in "plot planning". And Reviewers: if it seems like I've lost the tone of the first two chapters, please, please let me know. I am thoroughly pleased/surprised/happy to discover people are enjoying this attempt to put words to the "visions" I see as a result of the season/series finale. Many, many thanks to all of you.

Chapter 3: New Friends, Old Enemies

0900 (Military Time) 9:00 a.m. (Civilian Time)

Next Day

HQ JAG

Falls Church, VA

Greg was early in the office this a.m., not wanting a repeat of yesterday's "stellar" performance. As a result, he was already in the break room, sipping his first cup of coffee at work when Jen and Lt. Commander Bud Roberts walked in. He caught the tail end of their conversation.

"It's going to seem really strange, don't you think, without the two of them around?" Jen's words caught Greg's attention. He had been too tired (and, if truth be told, a little too "buzzed") to do much thinking about his "mission" when he had left McMurphy's last night. He had gotten ready for work on "automatic pilot" nursing a mild "hangover" headache. Just because this was his first cup of coffee at work didn't necessarily mean this was his first cup of coffee for the day. Far from it—he had already gone through a full pot of coffee at home—not that he was going to confess it to anyone, especially here.

Commander Roberts chuckled. "Yeah—it's going to seem a little too quiet, I think." Greg saw the commander nudge Jen a little in the ribs as they walked through the door. "But remember, it seemed 'funny', too, when the Admiral retired."

Jen walked to the coffee maker and poured two cups of coffee, one for her and one for the commander. "So what do you know about new personnel coming in to replace the colonel and the captain?"

One of the things that was getting to Greg was the relatively ease the close comrades of Captain Rabb had in using the new rank, almost as if they all silently agreed Rabb's promotion was "overdue". As he sipped his coffee, he made a mental note to himself to add discovering the reason for the ease to the "checklist" he had concocted in his mind to uncover the mystery that was Captain Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie.

Bud was adding creamer and sweetener to his coffee. The two so far hadn't seen Greg, as Greg was tucked into a corner—almost behind the door—and was maintaining a very discrete silence. "I know a couple of previous JAG attorneys are coming in. As far as the rest of the personnel the Captain is taking, I haven't seen the final list so I don't know who else they will replace."

Just then, Commander Turner walked in seeking his first cup of coffee for the day. He commented, "I don't know if the support personnel will be replaced." He poured a cup and then continued, "Congress is on a budget-cutting trip. This might be a good place to cut a few corners."

The General walked in and headed for the coffee maker. "The gossip mill at work! People, we'll go over some of this at staff call this a.m." He pointedly glanced at his watch. "It's time to get to work."

Well, thought Greg, that was relatively non-productive—except Commander Roberts seemed to know more than he was letting on. He needed to figure out a way to "pry open the lid" to get at the information he just knew the Commander had. He sighed, finished his coffee, set it down in the sink—he promised himself he would clean it out later—and headed for his office.

1000 (Military Time)

Staff Call

Conference Room

HQ JAG

Falls Church, VA

"Attention on deck." A memory flickered through Greg's mind as he remembered the last time those words had been spoken—just last Friday—by then Commander Rabb—as the General walked into the room.

"As you were." The General waved off the attention posture of the staff gathered in the room. The noise of shifting chairs created a racket for all of 30 seconds as everyone got settled. The General started pacing at the head of the table, glancing occasionally down at a legal notepad sitting on top of a stack of files he had brought into the staff meeting. "As you are all well aware, we have a couple of key vacancies to fill. A Lieutenant Commander Meg Austin will be coming in to replace Col. MacKenzie." Greg was surreptiously watching Commander Robert's face and saw a bright, sunny smile break out. The General also saw it. "You know Commander Austin?"

"Yes, sir." The smile broadened into a grin and Greg had the feeling Commander Roberts was taking a mini-trip of his own down memory lane. "Commander Austin was Captain Rabb's first partner when I was first assigned to headquarters. It will be good to see her again." Sometimes it would be nice if Commander Roberts weren't quite so sunny, Greg thought resentfully. He knew it was the mild handover that was speaking. He was still watching Commander Roberts covertly when the General's next words changed that grin into a wince and a quiet gasp. Now what the hell was that all about, he wondered. "A Captain Allison Krennick will be coming in to replace Captain Rabb." One more item to "investigate", if he could.

It was Commander Turner who asked the next logical question. "When will they be here?" Everyone, including Greg, was looking at the stack of folders in front of the General and there was a general assumption there was going to be a whole lot of extra work for them all. The sooner the new personnel could come in and get settled, the better for everyone.

"They got their orders the same day Captain Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie got theirs, with the same time frame. They should be reporting in this afternoon." He glanced around at the faces sitting around the table. "I'm going to assume we will all make them feel welcome."

It was Commander Turner who spoke again. Greg's eyebrows shot up in exasperation. Doesn't the man ever get "un-focused"? "What about support personnel?"

"Since I haven't heard anything from Captain Rabb or the new commander of the new unit, I don't know how many support personnel we'll be losing. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." The general again glanced down at his notepad. "We should know something about support personnel in three weeks maximum. Any other questions?"

Greg decided it was time to ask one of his primary questions—or, and this was something he would admit only to himself in the quiet closet of his mind—it used to be a primary question on Friday morning. "Who's going to head up the new unit since Colonel MacKenzie's resignation?"

General Cresswell's own eyebrows shot up. Greg winced inwardly, although he tried to keep his face expressionless. He didn't have any way of knowing whether the General knew about Col. MacKenzie's absolute refusal to take him "under her wing" to San Diego. "Still want to go to San Diego, Lieutenant?" Greg was chagrinned. The very nature of that question revealed the General was as well attuned to the rumor mill as anyone in HQ JAG.

"Yes, sir." It was an automatic response with just the right amount of enthusiasm, Greg thought, to be appropriate. In that same closet of the mind, Greg was wondering at the sudden lack of enthusiasm he experienced at the thought of San Diego without Colonel MacKenzie. He shook himself mentally. There will be time to thing about THAT issue later, he told himself. The general waved his hand and, for the first time since the meeting began, sat himself down.

"The new commander is coming from the Marine Corp—Paris Island, as a matter of fact. He's been given the same opportunity as Colonel MacKenzie was, so he will probably be choosing his staff among his own people." Greg felt the General's piercing eyes on him as he continued. "I think that pretty much eliminates anyone from here going to San Diego." Greg heard the door of opportunity slam shut. He tried not to let his disappointment show, and surprisingly, it wasn't too hard. "Now, as to these current cases. . ." The General continued on with the meeting. Greg made still another mental note to himself to have lunch with Commander Roberts—before the new personnel arrived, if at all possible.

1200 (Military Time) (Local Time)

Same Day (Tuesday)

Cafeteria, HQ JAG

Falls Church, VA

Greg stood at the end of the cafeteria line, holding his lunch tray, surveying the lunch crowd, looking for Commander Roberts. He truly hoped the Commander was eating lunch and was by himself, although the latter was doubtful. The Commander was a bull dog in the courtroom, but he was very popular with the entire JAG staff. Much to his surprise, he spotted the Commander in a far corner—and by himself! This was a situation that wasn't going to last long. Greg gripped his lunch tray and launched himself in that direction. Not surprisingly, the Commander waved him a chair.

"I wish they would just give up on the meatloaf," was Greg's opening gambit in the conversation he hoped to have with the commander. He saw the commander swallow the food he had been chewing on and grin.

"Just be thankful they don't have Captain Rabb's recipe for meatless meatloaf." He chuckled. Greg's eyebrows shot up in a questioning look. The Commander continued. "Captain Rabb has been a vegetarian for years and he made the mistake of fixing his meatless meatloaf for Colonel MacKenzie one time. You should have heard her complain about it!" The chuckle grew into a laugh. "She even compared it to 'nuclear waste!'"

Greg couldn't help let a tiny grin tilt his mouth upward to one side. "It must have been pretty bad."

"Yeah, the commander just couldn't understand. Colonel MacKenzie wasn't the only thing he was oblivious to. . ."

Commander Turner stood at the end of the table with his own lunch tray in hand. He asked, "Do you mind if I join you?" Both of the other officers waved him a chair and he sat down beside Greg. He tunneled right in on the topic(s) Greg had on his mind. "So, Bud," he started, tearing open the sweetener for his coffee, "you said you knew Commander Austin? What's she like?"

Commander Roberts took a bite of the mixed vegetables and made a face. "Their meatloaf isn't the only hopeless thing on the menu. How do they manage to ruin vegetables. . .?" He sighed, put his fork down. "She's a blonde, a computer and a weapons expert. She hails from Texas. She's—" Greg saw a thoughtful look come over his face as he appeared to look for the appropriate word. "Nice. I don't know how experienced a trial attorney she is, though. If I remember correctly, she didn't get that much exposure here when she was here."

Commander Turner stirred his coffee. "Well, one would assume she's gotten experience elsewhere. How many years has it been, anyway?"

Greg saw Commander Roberts face pucker up as he thought to remember. "Ten years. Wow! Does the time fly?"

Commander Turner shook out the napkin and placed it in his lap with deliberate precision. "So how about Captain Krennick? Didn't I hear she had 'topped' out at Captain a few years ago?"

Commander Roberts turned sober. Greg was "all ears". "Captain Krennick. Wow! I can't believe she's still in the service." Greg saw Commander Turner's eyebrows go up in a questioning manner. Commander Roberts continued. "She really had it in for Captain Rabb. He threw her so many 'red lights', you would have thought they were in an overactive construction zone!" Commander Turner's eyebrows crawled up even further and Greg's own eyebrows felt like they would fly right off his head.

"Sexual harassment?" Greg's voice was small, but Commander Roberts caught it.

"Yep. Big time." There was a thoughtful look on his face. "I don't know how he stood it, but he handled it like a pro. It's just as well he's not here anymore. I don't think the office could stand any more of that."

"Did Colonel MacKenzie ever meet her?"

Commander Roberts shook his head. "I don't think so." There was the small, pleasant chuckle so characteristic of his good nature again. "That would have been interesting: kick-ass marine meets sexual tension big time." There was a far-away look in his eye as Greg thought he could read the Commander's thoughts about a confrontation between the Colonel and Captain Krennick. All of a sudden, he chuckled himself, although he had to acknowledge another sliver of resentment adding itself to the small "house" of "resentments" he was building up against Captain Rabb. Would he himself ever be in a position where he had two attractive—he assumed Captain Krennick was "attractive"—women actually fighting over him?

"Wow. Two women fighting over him! That would have been something to see."

Commander Roberts tossed Greg a small, almost-sad, smile. "I think Captain Rabb was kind of used to that sort of thing. It would be so funny to see it happening. At a social gathering, he would find himself surrounded by women. Even in the field, even without the uniform, women were drawn to him. I think sometimes he dated only to keep other more obnoxious women away." Greg heard a grunt from Commander Turner.

"How 'bout the 'video princess'? What was that all about?" Greg felt a sigh of relief as he realized he wasn't the only one who had questions. He saw Commander Roberts' eyebrows shoot up.

"Oh, Renee?" He dismissed her with a simple sentence. "Diversion tactic, only."

Greg decided it was safe to ask a question. "Diversionary tactic." Commander Roberts nodded.

"Yeah. He started dating her when Mac became engaged to Commander Brumbee."

"So how come she's called 'The Video Princess'?" Commander Turned asked the question this time.

"Oh—do you remember seeing the navy commercial that Commander Rabb starred in?" Greg was startled. He remembered thinking Commander Rabb looked familiar but couldn't place him immediately when he first met the pilot/lawyer. Now, he remembered that commercial. Damn, a "television star" to boot. These were big, big boots he was looking to fill eventually. He was beginning to feel more than just a bit intimidated. Hell's bells, he thought. The man is intimidating me and he's not even here! How am I going to get a handle on this, anyway? "Renee was producing that commercial. I remember overhearing Col. MacKenzie calling her the 'bitch director from hell.'" Commander Roberts chuckled at the memory. "I don't know if Captain Rabb was really ever serious about Renee, really. I do know Renee irritated the colonel—she kept teasing the Captain about 'long-legged blondes.'" All of a sudden, Commander Roberts actually giggled. It was such a good-natured sound, full of humor, the other two gentlemen at the table joined with small chuckles of their own. "I remember Harriet told me once Col. MacKenzie told her Captain Rabb told her, after his '68 'vette was stolen, that if you went car shopping with your girlfriend, you might as well buy her a ring. And she helped him pick out the Lexus." Both commanders laughter almost threatened to get out of control. When the laughter was brought under control, Commander Roberts reverted back to the original topic of conversation. "In any case, I think she was primarily a diversionary tactic. Colonel MacKenzie was engaged to Commander Brumbee and he really couldn't stand it." He turned to Commander Turner. "Do you know Commander Brumbee and Captain Rabb broke my jaw fighting over Colonel MacKenzie?"

Greg choked on the water he was drinking. Commander Turner's own reaction was more subdued. "Really?"

Commander Roberts nodded, a small grin on his face. "I can laugh about it now—my jaw was wired shut for it seemed like forever. And both of them apologized afterwards. I think," and he snickered, "Colonel MacKenzie thought the whole thing was kind of silly, if I hadn't gotten hurt. And the Admiral! Boy, was he furious!"

Greg saw Commander Turner was equally taken with the story. "So what happened?"

Commander Roberts got serious again. "Captain Rabb and I were sent to Australia to defend a deserter against murder charges. Commander Brumbee was the prosecutor. Things just happened to get out of hand and I inadvertently got in the middle of the whole thing. The Admiral told them to beat it out of each other until they inflicted the same amount of damage on each other as they did on me." Commander Roberts grinned. "The judge was astonished, to say the least, to see both counsel show up in court sporting black eyes—and in Captain Robb's case, two broken ribs." Greg was bug-eyed at this point. Commander Roberts turned serious again. "As I said, it wasn't until after that trip, that Captain Robb got involved with anyone else---and again, I think it was a diversionary tactic." He sighed. "It seemed so futile in some ways." His face got a far-away look to it and Greg's eyebrows shot up. "Here is the classic 'tall, dark, and handsome' male figure you would think could get anything he wanted—and all he ended up with was a lot of unhappiness and pressure from insecure women who wanted him for nothing but 'decoration'. I kinda felt sorry for him." Greg was all of a sudden, awed; this was normally a very reticent man and he was opening up about something very, very personal. The moment of awe quickly fell away as Greg also made a note to tuck this little bit of information in his growing mental file labeled "Rabb/MacKenzie—why?" He personally didn't want to get too close to why he was constructing this file.

Commander Turned stirred his coffee and nodded. "I saw the same thing at the Academy. I know he was just a big exasperated with the phenomenon—and he just didn't understand it, at some levels." Just then, his face gained a "cat-that-ate-the-canary-and-didn't-care-the-feathers-were-still-in-evidence look: "At the same time, he wasn't necessarily adverse to using that sex appeal to getting what he wanted."

"Yeah. I remember Col. MacKenzie called that smile, his 'flyboy' grin."

Greg was growing impatient with this diversion into Captain Rabb's physical characteristics. As irrational as it was, Greg was aware of some resentment boiling up from still another area of his persona—that damned, toothy smile that seemed to be a "chick magnet" no matter what the circumstances. He recognized he couldn't do a damn thing about that but try to counteract the effects of that smile with his own personable charm, which was, he thought immodestly, considerable. What was it Col. MacKenzie said when he had initially been paired with then-Commander Rabb? . . .two alpha males?" Yep. That was him and Captain Rabb. "So what about Captain Krennick?" Greg wanted to redirect the conversation to something a bit more relevant to what was happening at JAG Ops rather than replay "ancient history", especially since the lunch hour was winding down relatively rapidly.

Command Roberts played with his fork and he was staring down into his tray. "She was the Admiral's Chief of Staff when Captain Rabb started here as a Lieutenant. She held the rank of full Commander at the time." Greg tried to ignore the shiver that went down his backbone, as he thought of his own attempts to attract the colonel's attention: two pay grades below the object of the attention! Too close for comfort. Was he sure he wanted to hear about this? He shook himself. He had set himself a mission, personal and private though it may be, and he was going to complete it. "I was a bit naive at the time, but looking back at it, it seemed like almost every other conversation she had with him was loaded with sexual innuendo.""

There was something eating at Greg and, at first, he was hard put to put a finger on it. Then he found the words for his question. "Was he the only target or were there other men?"

Commander Turner turned to face Greg and there was a wicked grin on his face. "Are you thinking you might be a target, Lieutenant?"

Greg felt his face turn pink. It was Commander Roberts who "took him off the hook". He gave Greg a thoughtful look. "You know, the scuttlebutt has it there were a couple other men through the years—which is why the rumors were flying around about her tapping out at Captain." He paused. "I guess I will ask Harriet what she thinks—I don't have a clue as to if you" (and he was looking directly at Greg as he spoke), "have what it takes to 'trip Krennick's wire'". Greg realized the commander was borrowing a phrase from his stint on an aircraft carrier. Which brought up another building block for the "house of resentment"—the close camaraderie between the Captain and Command Roberts was based, in part, on the common ground of serving on aircraft carriers. How he was personally going to handle that particular issue, he didn't have a clue. He saw a sympathetic grin on Commander Roberts' face. "I really will ask Harriet about it. If she thinks you might be a target, I'll let you know."

Greg was flabbergasted. He wasn't sure he knew what to expect from Commander Roberts, but this sort of generosity wasn't it. Commander Roberts turned serious and he was addressing both men. "Captain Rabb handled it with flair and sophistication, but that's only because he was used to that sort of thing. If either one of you find yourself in that position, please let me know. We really can't have that sort of thing in the office."

Which brought another question to Greg's mind. "Who's going to be Chief of Staff, now that the Colonel is gone?"

Bud grinned. "The general told me I could have it--if Captain Krennick ends up going." His grin faltered just a little. "I'm not all that enthusiastic about it—I'd rather be in the courtroom—but, considering my leg, beggars can't be choosers."

Commander Turner changed the topic completely and leaned over the table to look the other commander square in the eye: "Do you think your career has really tapped out at 'Lieutenant Commander,' Bud?"

For the first time in his brief acquaintance with Commander Roberts, Greg thought he saw a little bitterness. "Probably. If Admiral Chegwidden were still here, that would be one thing. But with a Marine as a CO, it's unlikely. Although," and his face brightened, "he didtell me to think about becoming Chief of Staff."

Commander Turned leaned back in his chair. "Bud, I don't know how you do it. First, you get Captain Rabb to ask you to London" (this was news to Greg), "then the Colonel asks you to San Diego" (that, too, was news—and Greg felt his stomach churning in jealousy, not of the colonel or of Captain Rabb—which he could understand and thereby deal with it—but of the affably Lieutenant Commander sitting in front of him), "but now you have the General asking you to think about taking over for Mac." Commander Turner stood up, grabbed his tray, and started walking away. "I seriously don't think you have anything to worry about, Bud. To quote then-Commander Rabb a couple of years ago, 'lesser men don't serve in this office.'" Commander Turner moved away and dumped the contents of his tray in the cafeteria trashcan as he made his way to the office.

Greg was dying of curiosity to know what that little remark was about, but Commander Roberts also stood up and acted like he was ready to go back to work. Greg quickly followed suit and remembered to thank the commander for his time at lunch. He hurried back to his office, thoroughly lost in thought about the two new senior officers coming into the office this afternoon.

1400 (Military Time) 2:00 (Civilian Time)
Bullpen, HQ JAG
Falls Church, VA
Same day

"Attention on deck!" One of the Marine guards voices echoed through the bullpen, catching everyone off guard. You could hear the backbones snap to attention and the noise dropped to that probably most comparable to an empty house at 3:00 a.m. Greg was just coming around the corner to use the fax machine when the voice shot through the air. Like everyone else, he snapped to attention and let his eyes "do the walking" to the entry doors of the bullpen.

Standing there beside the General, were two slim and trim blonde naval officers. The general began speaking.

"Thank you for your attention. These are our two new JAG attorneys, Captain Allison Krennick"—the older and taller of the blondes nodded, "and Lieutenant Commander Meg Austin." Greg noticed the tiny beginnings of a smile on her face. The General continued, "Captain Krennick will be in Captain Rabb's former office"—Greg glanced over to Commander Roberts who was standing by Jen's desk. He wondered if, given the information Commander Roberts had conveyed at lunch, whether he found that particular office assignment somewhat ironic. "Commander Austin will be in Colonel MacKenzie's former office." The General turned to the two officers by his side. "I hope you will feel welcome here, both of you. I know there's been some personnel changes I n the years you've been here—for both of you—so I'll let Commander Roberts—since one of you already know him, as I understand—show you around and introduce you to everyone personally. In the meantime, feel free to enlist anyone you see for help in getting your offices set up." Both women nodded. The general then dismissed the company. "As you were." He waved to Commander Roberts.

While faxing what he had to fax to the Naval Air Station in Pensacola, FL, Greg took the opportunity to study the two women. Captain Krennick was slightly taller than Commander Austin—but not by much. From a distance of approximately 50 ft., he would have bet he could look both women evenly in the eye without having to move his head to adjust (like he had had to do with Captain Rabb). Captain Krennick's blonde hair hung down loose, just to above her collar—regulation length—and was cut in a relatively straight-forward manner. He found himself making eye contact with her and involuntarily shivered—those were mighty cold steel-blue eyes. The inevitable comparison with Rabb's stormy eyes came to the forefront. He refused to look away, and he noted with wry amusement, she turned away first to say something to her younger colleague.

He found himself locking eyes with the younger woman and discovered he was maintaining eye contact with eyes that inevitably reminded him of sunshine and mountain valleys and crystal-clear ice cold streams of water trickling down those same mountains. It seemed to him there was a hint of warmth and mischievousness in those eyes and it consoled him somewhat, especially after having the 10-second or so mini-confrontation with the new captain in the office. Of course, he reminded himself as he shook his head as if to clear the cobwebs, it could be he was inadvertently biased against the captain because of what Commander Roberts had said at lunch—but when was the last time Commander Roberts had purposefully been malicious? Greg decided, especially after seeing the two women, that Commander Roberts might have done a characteristically good thing in issuing the very informal (and under the radar) warning about the captain. He turned to the fax machine to retrieve the material he was faxing and therefore missed the two women, accompanied by Commander Roberts, heading directly for him.

"Lieutenant, let me introduce Capital Krennick and Commander Austin."

Greg held out his hand and smiled in greeting. "It's a pleasure to meet you both. I understand you've both worked here before." It was Commander Austin who shook her head.

"The general was only partly right. I was assigned to HQ JAG ten years ago—but HQ wasn't in this building at the time. I'm afraid the layout is totally foreign to me." Greg found himself instantly liking the Commander. He turned to shake hands with the captain.

"Lieutenant Vucovik. I understand you know Captain Rabb?" His internal radar screen was on high alert, looking for the faintest signals Captain Krennick was throwing off. He noticed her cold blue eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second.

"Yes. I'm not surprised he made it to Captain, with his—"and there was a pause, "'attributes' and skills." That took Greg's breath away and he found himself stepping back just a fraction and risked a glance at Commander Roberts. He caught the momentary frown, which instantly disappeared. Instinctively, he knew Commander Roberts was starting to take notes of the Captain's behavior. Again, he was surprised at the momentary flash of resentment coming up in his own chest, again directed at Captain Rabb. Was Rabb's attractiveness ALL that overwhelming? Damn it, anyway. He put that unworthy thought away in the attic of his mind and focused on the younger woman.

"How 'bout you? I understand you were partnered with Captain Rabb." Again, the data-gathering machine was in overdrive. He chose not to look at Commander Roberts then. He was dazzled, at least momentarily, by Commander Austin's grin.

"Yeah. He made what could have been a dull job v-e-r-y interesting."

Just then, one of the petty officers called out to him. "Lieutenant, you have a call from Pensacola." Greg just nodded and excused himself. "Ladies," he nodded, "if you will excuse me. . ."

It was Captain Krennick who dismissed him. "Of course, lieutenant. Duty calls."

As Greg walked back to his office to take the call, he could almost literally feel Captain Krennick's cold stare inspecting his torso. He shivered—but at the same time, his curiosity about the kind of personality Captain Krennick had was starting to take over, in spite of Commander Roberts warning. He decided, much against a tiny voice telling him he was going too far, this avenue of research warranted further research.