Chapter 8: "All Hands"
29 November 2023
"It doesn't look like anyone got disqualified," Lonnie commented as they boarded the bus the next morning. Again.
Katie did a quick headcount as the last sailor—it had to be Reynolds, didn't it? She sensed a problem brewing there—sat down. Thirty-two. Hm. She shook her head in response to Lonnie's comment. "No. We're down two."
"Oh. I guess all those security checks did happen for a reason," the ensign remarked, all but reading Katie's mind.
She'd been ready to give someonea piece of her mind on the other end of the security screenings—preferably, whatever idiot was in charge of "Stingray's" security process and undoubtedly worked for her once she officially took over her job as XO—but apparently Lonnie was right. Something had been found on the two missing sailors, which meant the security pukes had done their jobs. Even if they'd done their jobs in the most inefficient way possible, they'd done them, which meant yelling at the idiots wouldn't be nearly so satisfying.
"I guess I won't be able to yell at anyone, after all," Katie allowed herself to joke.
"I'm sure you could find someone, ma'am," Lonnie replied with a grin.
As usual, they'd boarded the bus in front of the barracks the group had been assigned to—Katie and Lonnie had to walk over from the Officers' Quarters a block or so away—and Katie had expected the bus to take them to their usual destination. Even if the security pukes had eliminated two people already, Katie was certain that there was at least one more stack of paperwork in her future, one that probably needed to be filled out in that dreary conference room with its painful plastic chairs. However, her favorite yeoman from the day before boarded the bus, wearing the same self-important smile.
"Good morning, everyone," she said, and Katie finally caught sight of the nametag she hadn't been wearing the day before. Bryant, Helen YN1. I'll remember that name. "Today your routine will change, and this bus will take you to a new briefing location. There, you will be given information pertaining to your final destination, and allowed one more chance to leave the Stingray program."
We've come this far. Why would we want to miss out on all the other new torture techniques the UEO likes to call security procedures? Katie thought scathingly.
"What do you mean, 'leave the program'?" ET2 Reynolds spoke up. "Why would the UEO want us to leave after coming this far?"
Bryant smiled the insincere smile that Katie remembered all too well. "The Stingray program is an all-volunteer program," she said pompously. "If you do not wish to stay, we will happy to arrange new orders for you immediately."
"I'd like to arrange something for you," Reynolds muttered under his breath; thankfully, Bryant was not close enough to hear him, but Katie was.
She cleared her throat, giving him a look that warned him to behave. It didn't matter that she agreed with his statement; sometimes she had to play the part of the disciplinarian, and that was generally the XO's job, anyway. But she looked away from Reynolds to speak to the yeoman coolly. "I don't think anyone will be leaving at this point, Petty Officer Bryant."
"I'm obligated to make the offer, ma'am," Bryant replied with a sniff. "However, since everyone is here, you can proceed."
Her last words were to the bus driver, though Katie noticed that Bryant felt herself too important to ride the bus with the Stingray sailors and the Marines who were still guarding them—she joined a few of her administrative colleagues in a follow-on car. Glancing over at the car, Katie thought she noticed the flash of a lieutenant's insignia. Was Bryant's absentee boss finally joining them? For his sake, Katie almost hoped he wasn't, because she didn't exactly have anything complimentary to say about the yeoman.
The rest of the bus ride took place mostly in silence; the sailors watched the base crawl by out the windows without much enthusiasm. Katie joined in, noticing that while the security building had been all the way over on the Pearl City end of the base, the bus had exited the base and was driving along Kamehameha Highway. Soon enough, they'd gone around the north end of the bay and were entering Pearl Harbor Naval Shipyard.
"Do you think they're taking us to fly out of here? Is that why they had us bring our gear along?" Lonnie asked her, gesturing at the mess of seabags filling the bus to capacity.
It was a valid question; the shortest way to get to Hickam Air Force base was to cut through the Naval Shipyard, though driving through the base instead of around it on the highway certainly wasn't the fastest way to get there.
"Maybe," she said. "Or maybe the shipyard is our final destination." It wasn't as if anything else about this mess had made sense, so far, but as they made their way west towards the shore instead of further south towards the Air Force base, she had to wonder if they really were going to a new boat.
"I looked up the newest Valiant-class boat last night, and she's not named Stingray," Lonnie said quietly, staring dejectedly out the window. "Her name is Trident, and they're building her out in Newport News, Virginia."
Finally, the bus hung a right onto Halealii Road, turning directly away from the airfield and deeper into the Naval Shipyard, but that didn't save Katie from addressing Lonnie's concerns.
"Maybe she's not a Valiant-class, then," Katie tried to reassure her. "We're certainly headed towards a boat slip, though."
"I didn't think they were building anything else right now, ma'am," the ensign said as they continued northeast. The bus stayed on the same road until it passed all the piers and building slips, and then turned away from all the ships—and the few submarines tied up at the surface ship piers.
"If there's one thing I've learned in my time in the Navy is that the UEO is very good at keeping secrets. Especially from itself," Katie said, trying to lighten the other woman's mood again. This is becoming a habit of mine, isn't it? she thought with an internal grimace. Katie didn't dislike Lonnie, and had no problem bucking up her flagging spirits, but she really hoped that there would be someone else who took over this task. An XO was busy enough without adding morale officer to her duties.
About a mile later, the bus stopped in front of a guarded fence line, behind which two dull-looking gray buildings stood. The nearby sign read "Leftwich Street", and the street itself seemed to end into the massive concrete doors of the first building. The second building looked less imposing than the concrete monstrosity that the road ended at—it actually had some windows, Katie noticed, and looked rather like a drab office building—but there were Marines swarming all over the place, and very few Navy types to be seen.
"End of the line, folks," the bus driver called, opening the doors.
"Should we have our IDs ready to be inspected again?" Katie asked dryly, standing up from her seat.
The bus driver only grunted out a laugh. Katie led the way off of the bus, dumping her seabag onto the ground not far from where Petty Officer Bryant was standing. Her sailors followed suit, most of them looking dubiously at the ugly concrete building.
"Here are your shipyard identification badges," the yeoman explained to the group, handing them out. It was a typical bad Navy picture, Katie noticed, and had very little information on it save for an identify chip, name, rank, and the words 'crew member'. "You will need these badges in addition to your military ID to access this part of the base. If you ever lose your shipyard badge, you will have to go to the administrative building over there."
Bryant pointed at a small white building outside the fence line.
"Now, if you will all proceed through the first security checkpoint, I believe someone will meet you there." Petty Officer Bryant turned to leave without another word, gesturing the sailors towards the pair of waiting Marines.
Katie had to bite back the urge to swear. First security checkpoint didn't bode well, in her opinion.
"Will someone be coming for our bags, or are we expected to lug them through security with us?" Katie asked one of the Marines, pointedly ignoring Bryant.
He saluted, seemingly out of reflex, and did not answer until Katie had returned it. "We'll take care of them, ma'am. May I see your ID, please?"
She sighed, holding both her regular ID and her new one out for inspection. Can't he see I just got off the bus with everyone else? But Marines were hard-wired to act in certain ways, and she didn't feel like throwing herself against that brick wall today. Besides, at least he'd been polite.
One by one, the new sailors filed through the first checkpoint, gathering up in another group short of the second checkpoint. They'd stopped because Katie had, of course, but she could see no sign of this 'someone' who was supposed to meet them.
"At least I can work on my tan. That's a step up from being stuck in that stupid conference room," Reynolds spoke up, his tone laced with sarcasm. Katie had to agree with him in that regard, and she was sick of playing the waiting game.
"You could always take this time to contemplate the merits of knowing when to hold one's tongue, Mr. Reynolds," Katie said. Her tone was dry, but not hard, and it was the closest she could come to joking with an enlisted sailor.
"Ma'am, if you've read my record, you know that I was supposed to learn that lesson a few years back. It didn't seem to stick," the electronics technician replied with a cheeky grin.
"Your record isn't nearly as colorful as you seem to hope it is, Sailor. Downright boring, in some places."
"XO, I'm hurt! You think I'm boring." Reynolds faked a woeful expression but couldn't hide his grin. His record actually was interesting, but not in a disciplinary sense—if he hadn't had a problem with one officer at his last command, he would have been one of the youngest first class petty officers in the Navy.
She gave him a stern look, though she could feel the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Don't consider that a challenge, either."
"Too late," one of the other sailors muttered, and most of the group laughed.
Katie let herself smile. The one upside to the last two days was that her small group had formed a bond. A burden shared, misery loves company, and all that feel-good crap. But it's true, I guess.
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to UEO Stingray."
A familiar voice made Katie's head snap around. A slender figure dressed in oil-splashed coveralls and a faded ball cap had emerged from the concrete building, but it was not the gold scrambled eggs on the rim of the ball cap that made Katie pull up short—though they did make most of the sailors pop to attention. Of course, a blue shoulder patch featuring three stars and three stripes probably helped with that, too, but Katie stared because she knew him. She hadn't seen the captain in years, and this was the last place she'd expected to, but there was no mistaking that face.
He met her gaze for a split second, and Katie thought she saw a twinkle in the familiar brown eyes. However, he continued speaking to the group:
"As some of you have no doubt deduced, there is no actual boat named Stingray. The 'technology test bed' vessel that is listed in the Naval Registry is a cover for something else entirely. Unfortunately, I cannot tell you more than that…not yet, anyway."
Katie heard a few murmurs from her sailors, but her own heart was beginning to race. It can't be… The next words, however, really made a shiver of anticipation run through their small group.
"My name is Nathan Bridger, and I am the CO of the pre-commissioning unit that you have been hand-picked to join. I can't tell you what boat it is, or even what class, but I can tell you that we are building the newest, most technologically advanced warship in the world. And you are here because you are the best of the best at what you do.
"This is an all-volunteer crew. If you want out, the door's right there." Bridger gestured at the security checkpoint they had passed through not too long before. "I'm not promising you an easy tour, or even a fun one—but I do promise that whatever happens, you'll be there for it." The captain paused. "Now, I'll answer what questions I can, but you've all got five minutes to decide if you're coming or going."
Lonnie raised her hand, looking for all the world like a high school student on a field trip.
The thought seemed to occur to Captain Bridger, too, because Katie saw the laughter in his eyes. "Yes, Ensign?"
"Why all the secrecy and security, sir? I mean, we all got orders to be here, and we all had security clearances already..." Lonnie asked.
"Unfortunately, I can't answer that right now. Suffice it to say that there's a reason for the repeated security screenings, as painful as they are." Bridger grimaced.
"Can you at least tell us that it's a submarine, sir?" Reynolds spoke up, looking serious for once.
Bridger chuckled. "I think I can promise that much, yes."
"Better than the tanker they threatened me with," the brash electronics technician declared. "I'm in."
Katie looked Bridger in the eye. "Just tell me it really is what I think it is, sir."
"And what do you think it is, Commander?" he deadpanned. Sometimes, she really hated the captain's poker face, but at least he continued speaking before she had to come up with a polite answer. Bridger smiled. "I think you're safe in your assumption, XO."
Hearing him use that title sent a shiver down her spine, and Katie felt downright giddy. Under different circumstances, she would have already been jumping up and down and shouting with glee, but she was the XO, and there were only thirty-plus sailors watching her and wondering what in the world she'd been talking about. So, for now she had to settle on a grin that made her cheeks hurt—and oh, Jonathan was going to kill her!
Unless he knew and didn't tell me. Then I'll kill him.
"What is it?" Lonnie asked her, and the others waited for her response as well.
"Christmas just came early, Lonnie," she replied, not even trying to fight the smile. The young ensign looked confused, but she nodded anyway.
"Can we see her?" Katie asked, turning her attention back to the captain.
Now Bridger did grin. "Follow me," he said. "Unless anyone would like to go home, now?"
Her group seemed to be feeding off her excitement as they all lined up to follow Bridger. She gave the captain a mock-harsh look. "Not a chance, sir," Katie said.
"Then let's go." Leading the way through the security checkpoint, Bridger paused on the other side, waiting for Katie to fall into step next to him as the others trickled through the gate. He held a hand out to her. "Welcome back, Katie."
She shook it. "Thank you, sir. But I thought the UEO wasn't going to build another one."
"They weren't," he said quietly. "And then Macronesia rose, and started making threatening noises. I got the call about a week later."
The giant concrete building was clearly their destination; to Katie, it looked almost like an old nuclear bomb shelter, just a whole lot bigger.
She grimaced at the thought of the increasing tensions and growing possibility of war, though her good mood couldn't be entirely ruined. "How far along is she?"
"We're scheduled to launch in sixty-eight days, and to commission at the end of March."
"How long have you been keeping this a secret?" she asked, surprised.
Bridger shrugged. "We laid her keel two years ago. It's been hell keeping it quiet, though—hence all the checks you went through. The project is still classified Top Secret, and all the funding goes through non-military channels. We even have a different codeword every month, which makes wrestling with the Bureau of Personnel…interesting."
"So Jonathan really didn't know anything? I thought maybe he was lying," Katie said.
"Jonathan, tell a lie? Not so likely," was the chuckling response. Then he turned serious. "He doesn't know yet. Very few people outside the project do, and most of them are contractors we couldn't build her without. She's being built by the Navy, Katie—not by a civilian company. That's why we've been able to keep a lid on her for so long."
"And that way you get to be in charge of design, too?" she asked with a grin.
"Trust me, that's not the wonderful deal it sounded like. Between being CO and Project Manager, I spend a lot of conferences wanting to yell at myself," he replied wryly.
"I can always yell at you, if it would make your job easier, Captain," she said, flashing him a grin.
She had missed working with a CO that she could joke with like this. Her future was looking much brighter than it had even that morning, even with the prospect of all the paperwork involved in her job looming over her head. But at least that kind of paperwork was typical for an XO. She could even deal with the insanity that came from pre-commissioning any warship, so long as it was seaQuest.
"I'm sure you will, sooner or later. You might have to call Jonathan and ask for some of his 'Bridger management' techniques, too." But he grinned, returning the salutes of the Marines who were guarding the giant concrete doors. "Here we are. Brace yourself."
Together, they led the new sailors through the smaller door nestled in the bigger ones, and it took all of Katie's self control not to stop cold. The doors were situated at seaQuest's centerline, and the boat herself was still up on the blocks, but because of the way she rested in the lower portion of the drydock, Katie was looking at her exact center-point.
And she was beautiful.
She wanted to rush inside and start crawling through engineering spaces, familiarizing herself with this new boat. Katie could tell she was longer and wider than the old seaQuest, and she knew that would only be the tip of the proverbial iceberg of changes. From where she was standing, she could almost count the boat's missile hatches and torpedo tube doors, and those alone indicated how many differences there were from the seaQuest she had memorized from stem to stern so long ago, but just seeing her took Katie's breath away.
"Want a tour, or would you like to visit the Arizona first?" Bridger asked with a gentle smile.
She felt her cheeks go scarlet. "I think the Arizona can wait, sir."
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw another familiar face greeting the enlisted sailors. "Alrighty folks. Playtime's over. I'm Master Chief Crocker, and I'm the COB here. You'll be split up by your departments in order to get a look at this here lovely lady, but until then, you'll stay with me."
Another officer approached even as Crocker finished talking, and Bridger introduced them: "Katie, this is Brad Williams, our Chief Engineer. Cheng, this is Commander Hitchcock, the new XO."
"A pleasure, ma'am," Williams replied politely.
"Have you been taking care of my boat, Cheng?" she couldn't resist asking.
Williams took it in stride, grinning in return. "I've been warned about you, XO."
Bridger chuckled, and cut into the conversation. "Brad, this is Lonnie Henderson, your new Auxiliaries Officer."
Katie could tell a lot about a department head by the way they treated their division officers, and she was pleased to see that "Cheng" greeted Lonnie with a friendly smile. "Welcome aboard, Auxo," he said. "I'll get you settled in. If you'll excuse us, Captain?"
Bridger waved them away with a nod, which left him and Katie alone.
"So, any questions you won't ask when there are junior officers about?"
She glanced around, making sure there wasn't anyone in earshot. "I was looking at the personnel records for the sailors who checked in with me, Captain. Have you had a chance to look at them?"
"I have, actually. Something's making you unhappy about them?" There was that look, the one she'd forgotten—the one that told her that Bridger missed very little, and when he wanted to be, the man was damned perceptive.
The rest of the time, of course, he was the stereotypical absent-minded professor.
"Having spent the better part of two days trapped in a room with them, I don't think they're bad people. But I'm not sure they're the best sailors, either," Katie said.
"No?" Bridger asked with a smile. "Most of them are downright brilliant in their fields, Katie. Sure, they've had a discipline problem or two, but I think we can deal with that."
"I was afraid you were going to say that, Captain."
"Relax. Most of the problems they cause won't even make it to you—that's what the Navy created chiefs for, and we've got some good ones this time." The smile vanished, though, and the captain took a deep breath. "I do have to warn you about our Supply Officer, though."
That sinking feel she'd had for the last two days came back in full force. "Tell me you're joking, sir. Please tell me you're joking."
"Sorry, Katie."
He didn't sound very sorry, though, and Katie could only sigh. This is going to be Hell...
30 November 2023
The call came in five minutes before his alarm was set to go off, and it took him three flailing tries before he hit the button to turn the audio-only option on.
"Bridger."
"Hello, Nathan," a cheerful voice greeted him innocently. "Did I wake you?"
"You know damn well you woke me up," he groused, hitting the video-on button and squinting tiredly at the screen. "It's five 'til six."
"Did I forget that? I'm so sorry. It's almost eight here in San Diego." Kristin's smile was naughty, and Nathan sighed.
"Hi," he relented. Seeing her face was wonderful, even if he wished she'd called ten minutes later. Nathan missed her, even when she made him grouchy.
"Good morning to you, too, sunshine."
"Don't 'sunshine' me today, woman. I flew to New Cape Quest and back in the span of forty-eight hours, and I'm still trying to convince my body to get back on Hawaii time." Nathan turned off his alarm before it could start beeping. "How's disaster relief going?"
"Well enough. San Diego is one of the few coastal cities in California that's still intact—we've lost almost everything else in the tsunamis and the aftershocks, and every bit of stabilization we've tried has failed—but I'm sure you've seen that in the news," she replied. "Who am I lying to? It's bad, Nathan."
In the two months since the "Great Quake", the death toll had already risen high enough to make it the most deadly earthquake ever recorded, and more people were dying every day, despite the best efforts of Kristin and her colleagues. Nathan had been trying to follow the rescue and restoration efforts on the news, and he knew that Westphalen was fighting a losing battle…and it was a battle that could not have had worse timing, either.
I feel so dirty for being angry at the universe for making this earthquake happen now, as if it's the poor people in California's fault that they are sucking in all of the UEO's attention and resources away from the coming conflict with Macronesia. Nathan pushed those thoughts aside with an effort.
"I wish I could help," he said feelingly. The entire situation left him torn. The scientist in him wanted to turn the problem over in his mind until they found some way to stabilize the sinking California coastline. His specialty was Marine Biology, too, which meant that his mind really wanted to start thinking about the ecological disaster that the earthquake had caused, and what could be done to save the marine life in the area. But—these days he wasn't a scientist, now, was he? And that was the problem.
"Me, too," Kristin replied. "I mean, it's not that we're short on people—the UEO is still pouring resources into this, and our budget is in the billions—but it would be nice to have someone to talk to that isn't two time zones away."
Nathan smiled wistfully. "Tell me about it."
"How's your 'project' going, anyway, Nathan?" she asked after a moment. Technically, Kristin wasn't supposed to know about seaQuest, but she'd been involved in the earliest stages of the boat's planning, back when Nathan had still cherished hopes that they might build her as a research and peacekeeping vessel again.
"Oh, the usual. We're actually ahead of the production schedule by about a week, though I don't expect that to last long."
"Does it ever?" Kristin smiled. "What was that you told me about planning?"
"That it prevents piss poor performance?" Nathan asked innocently, finally sitting up and swinging his legs out of bed. He'd be late if he didn't start moving soon—
"Watch your language," she snapped, feigning annoyance. As usual. But Kristin continued, "Actually, though, I was thinking about the one you told me about the enemy…"
"Ah. You mean the first law of battle: no plan survives first contact with the enemy."
She chuckled. "That's the one."
Nathan could only grin.
2 December 2023
Lucas slid into the seat at the conference room table, shuffling through his stack of papers while he waited for the other officers to arrive. Part of him was still angry at the captain, but two weeks was a long time for him to cool his heels, and being angry never fixed anything.
He had barely seen the small apartment the Navy furnished him with since he had reported to seaQuest a month ago. He'd spent most of his time on the boat, trying to straighten out the computer systems and prove to the captain that he wasn't just a freeloader. And then the captain had taken him to task for missing a couple of meetings.
But Lucas wasn't the type to run away from a problem or break down in tears just because the captain had yelled at him. After all, it certainly wasn't the first time—he'd never really gotten himself on the captain's bad side before, but Lucas had ticked him off once or twice in the past. What bothered Lucas more was that Bridger had treated him like he was still sixteen. So he'd taken it upon himself to prove that he could do everything the captain expected of him. Even if it meant attending boring meetings on little sleep.
He'd even made a point of showing up early to the meetings. Surprisingly, he had found it was nice to be able to spend a few minutes catching up with his fellow officers before the meeting started. He didn't usually get to see some of them that often, what with everyone trying to meet various deadlines, and being able to grab a cup of coffee or a soda while just chitchatting was nice. Ben and Tim had been a lot friendlier since he'd started showing up, too, and it seemed like their old friendships were starting to return. Even if the environment was different, seaQuest was starting to feel like seaQuest…which for Lucas, meant the boat was starting to feel like home again.
Today seemed like it was going to be a bad day, though, when Chris Schafer was the first person to join Lucas. He hadn't been avoiding his former student, precisely, but he had certainly avoided being alone with him.
"Nice of you to join us, Wolenczak," Schafer said, sitting down across from Lucas. He bit back the urge to sigh.
"Good morning, Lieutenant," he greeted instead. He'd been doing his best with military courtesies, even if he felt some people didn't deserve them. Fortunately, he was starting to learn that officers like Ben and Tim only insisted on them when they were doing official things, and not in private conversation, where they were much more relaxed. Using the rank on Schafer, however, was Lucas' subtle way of telling the Communications Officer what he thought of him—they were only one rank apart in seniority, and that meant they should have been on much more friendly terms.
Should have. Schafer's own attitude clearly was preventing that from happening. The other officer smirked.
"You know, they don't hand out bonus points for showing up early. And even if they did, you're so far in the negative for all those meetings you missed that it won't make a difference." Obviously, Schafer was taking advantage of the fact that they had at least two more minutes before anyone else was likely to show up and he had time to gloat in private.
"What's your problem with me?" Lucas snapped. He just wasn't in the mood to play stupid games this morning—he had too much to do, and Schafer had just ruined his good mood.
"My problem with you? You stole my job," Schafer accused.
"I didn't steal your job, sir. You were shifted to communications, because Captain Bridger wanted only the best people in each position. You and I both know you wouldn't have been able to hack it as EWO. Especially not in combat situations," Lucas replied.
"Oh, because you know so much about combat situations. You've been in the Navy for what, six months?" Schafer asked.
"In case you've forgotten, I served on the first seaQuest. And maybe we were primarily a science vessel, but we were also a peacekeeping vessel, which meant sometimes we were getting shot at. I know what it's like to work under that sort of pressure, and I know you wouldn't have been able to keep up," Lucas said.
"Oh yes, you're just the captain's little golden boy, swooping in to save the day again." Lucas blinked, resisting the urge to laugh at how ridiculous the senior officer sounded.
"Why can't you just accept the fact that you're good at communications? You're still on seaQuest, so what's the matter?" Lucas asked.
"Some of us had to bust our asses to get here. You decided you wanted to be on seaQuest again, so you joined the Navy and got some strings pulled. You haven't earned that rank you're wearing, and you certainly don't deserve to be a department head," Schafer sneered. "I'm just glad I'll have a front row seat when you fail. It should be a great show."
The hatch opened, and Lucas didn't have a chance to reply before Commander Hitchcock entered the wardroom, stopping short as she saw the angry looks Lucas was exchanging with Schafer. One brown eyebrow arched.
"Is there a problem here, gentlemen?" she asked mildly.
"Just a little difference of opinion, ma'am," Lucas said before Schafer could open his mouth and start throwing more accusations around. As amusing as it would have been to see Hitchcock shoot Schafer down, Lucas knew he would have to keep working with him.
The XO didn't seem entirely convinced, but she took her seat at the head of the table, waiting until the other department heads finally arrived before starting the meeting. And if she noticed the heated looks between Lucas and Schafer, she didn't comment.
Lucas was relieved that she was going to let him handle his own problems. At least someone around here still thinks I'm capable…
6 December 2023
Tony's feet already hurt from standing. Of course, listening to the captain blather on was always better than doing real work under the slave driver Chief Shan. But if Tony had it his way, he'd be in his bunk with one of his magazines, not stuck in formation like some show dog on display.
Parades were one of the worst parts of being in the Navy, but at least they were rare, and this wasn't exactly a parade so much as a glorified opportunity to let the Captain show off how important he felt. At least it should be shorter than a parade, anyway. An' you can't complain too loud, Tony. You're the one who decided to stay in after your parole was up with your tour on Walrus. Could'a gone back to Aunt Rose's. And done practically nothing with himself, which might have been nice.
He'd had this argument with himself lots of times, and whether he had won or lost by sticking around, he could never quite be sure. Think I might've lost this time, though. I still don't see what's so special about this boat. One sub's just the same as any other, right?
"Attention on deck!" Master Chief Crocker bellowed, and Tony reluctantly snapped to attention. A few moments later, the Captain appeared behind the podium.
"At ease, folks," he said first, and Tony shifted to a more casual pose, hands loose behind his back. At least he ain't bein' a dick about this, he thought. He looked up towards where the captain was standing off to his left. He hadn't had a chance to meet the infamous Captain Bridger up close yet, having only checked in that morning while the captain was busy with Admiral Noyce. Not bad lookin' for an old guy. Probably still gets all the ladies, too.
"I've never been big on making speeches, or on making people stand around and wait for me, so I'll keep this short."
He snorted, earning him a hard glare from Chief Shan. Short, my ass. That's what they all say, and then they start waxin' poetic about all their past glories. We'll be here 'til dinner at this rate.
"However, today marks the first time that this seaQuest's entire crew has been assembled. Our manning is now complete, with a total crew of 209. From this moment forward, you are all seaQuest, and whether she succeeds or fails is on our shoulders. Personally, I'm aiming for success.
"You all know the situation. I don't have to tell you that war is brewing out in the Pacific, or that when it comes, seaQuest will be in the thick of it."
Yeah, you're aimin' for success because then you can take all the glory. If this fails, it's the fault of guys like me. Us regular joes, the ones who are really gonna be fighting this war you say is comin', Captain.
"This boat has been one of the UEO's best-kept secrets for two years, and I know some of you are wondering why. But the answer to that is simple, and it's one you've uncovered as you've walked around our boat. Put simply, seaQuest is the biggest, meanest, and most advanced warship in the world, and if Macronesia got wind of what we are building here, you can believe they would do everything within their power to stop her from being completed."
Big stinkin' deal. The UEO don't even know what it's doing when it's not trying to keep secrets. All you gotta do to keep someone from finding out about somethin' is tell it to my detailer. He loses track of everything. Man shoulda gone into Intel.
"But that won't happen. Not on our watch. What will happen is that we'll get this 'Overgrown Metal Squid' into the water, and then we'll get her into the fight. You're all here because you're the best, and because of you, I expect seaQuest to be the best. So, I won't waste our time with pretty speeches—instead, I'll make you a promise."
Overgrown squid, right. What's long and hard and full of seamen…, Tony thought, managing to keep his snort soft enough this time to go unnoticed. Hurry up with your promise, Captain, you've already wasted enough of my time!
"If you do your best, I promise you'll never regret being assigned to seaQuest. But if you let this crew down, I'll kick you off my boat so hard and so fast that you'll be nursing your bruises for years to come, not to mention trying to remove the print of a size eight-and-a-half boot from your behind."
Most of the crew laughed, and even Tony had to join in. Still, he could not quite restrain his sarcastic side, thinking: Yeah, nice joke, sir. Now we all know what a regular guy you are. I'll be sure to be the first one lined up outside your door to be best pals with you. But at least the captain was trying to make jokes, which was more than his last commander had done. An' he don't mind threatening the crew a bit. Like my uncle always said, a little threat can go a long way. Maybe it won't be so bad here after all.
"On that friendly note, ladies and gentlemen, I'll wrap things up. Welcome aboard to all new seaQuest hands, and welcome back to those of you who served on board the last boat. I'm glad to have every one of you, and I know we won't let seaQuest down."
"Attention on deck!" the COB called again, and Tony snapped back to attention as the captain departed. Thankfully, however, the Master Chief felt no need to lecture the crew on whatever they were supposed to do next (unlike his last boat's COB, Master Chief Watkins, who would babble about nothing all day and make them stand at attention while he did it). Instead, he dismissed them almost before the Captain was out of sight, leaving Tony to the tender mercies of Chief Shan.
He looked around for a quick escape from his glaring superior, but there was nowhere to go. This ain't gonna be pretty, he thought. First day on board and already getting yelled at. Well done, Tony.
9 December 2023
Three days after the Captain's Call, the bars and restaurants were still crowded with tourists who had come to Pearl Harbor for the annual memorial services, lingering until the weekend to see the sights. But Ben had managed to find a table for the two of them at one of the places frequented mostly by locals and Navy types, and Lucas was enjoying the rare chance to relax.
He was exhausted, and probably should have been taking the opportunity to catch up on sleep, but spending time with his friend, now that they were back on better terms, seemed like the better choice. I'll probably regret it in the morning though…Knowing Ben, we'll end up in a drinking contest trying to impress some women before the night is through.
But the thought made Lucas smile, and he readily accepted the bottle of beer Ben brought back for him from the bar.
"So, I notice you've been making it to meetings on time," Ben drawled, wearing a lazy grin. "Is my sweetheart of an ex that intimidating?"
"Do you really have to ask that question, Ben?" He grinned for a moment, and then let it fade. "I don't think the captain's noticed though."
"Why not?"
"He's still angry at me. We've barely even talked since he yelled at me," Lucas said, peeling at a corner of the label on his beer.
Ben snorted out a laugh. "He barely ever talks to me—except when I have to go brief him on one supply SNAFU or another—and I don't think he's mad at me."
Lucas had to take a long pull of his beer before he could respond. "It's different with me and him. You're just... part of the crew."
"Oh, ow. That hurts, Lucas." Ben feigned chest pain, dramatically clapping his hands over his heart before turning serious again. "Yeah, I am, or at least compared to you. But I still don't think he's mad at you, kid."
He scowled. "What would you know? He didn't even say anything when I finally worked out the kinks in the sonar package, just took off for Florida. And I've only missed one meeting in the last month, and I told the commander about it ahead of time."
"You know where he was in Florida, don't you?" Now Ben was smirking, clearly relishing knowing some juicy piece of gossip.
"Aside from New Cape Quest, you mean?"
"Miguel told me. You know he got dragged along, right?"
"Yeah, so? Have you got a point here, Ben, or are you just enjoying being a jerk?" Lucas asked, rolling his eyes.
The older officer smiled, not taking the jab personally. He never did, after all, and just continued merrily: "Actually, I do have a point. This time." His eyes swept over the patrons around them, and he lowered his voice. "Miguel told me that he got to brief the UEO Command Strategy Board about the, um…thing that he found out about on Atlantis, and that the captain had to go, too. Thing is, while Miguel got kicked out after he briefed them, the captain had to stick around. As a member of that board."
"He was gone for less than two days. It's not like they were planning a war or something."
Ben just snorted, and gave Lucas a significant look.
Lucas gave him a skeptical one in return. "Even if they were, which I don't think they could do in such a short amount of time, he still hasn't been talking to me since then."
"You're not the only one who's been busy, you know. Think of it this way: if you're running around on four hours of sleep a night just trying to get the systems you own up and running, how much must it suck to be the guy who owns the entire boat?" Ben grimaced. "I can't believe how reasonable I'm sounding. I must be losing my touch. Waitress!"
She approached quickly, and Ben ordered another beer.
"She's a sweetie," he told Lucas. "I can introduce you two, if you like."
"I don't need your help hooking up with girls, Ben," Lucas said dryly.
"Could've fooled me, Mister-I-Forget-To-Go-Home-Some-Nights. I promise you, staying in the office till nine or ten at night is no way to get a date.""
He rolled his eyes. "Just because I'm not chasing anything with a pulse in a skirt doesn't mean I'm not getting any. As you've so aptly pointed out though, I haven't exactly had the time. Captain Bridger expects me to have everything at least mostly operational by the end of this month, and at the rate I'm going, I'll have to cut back to only two hours of sleep a night."
"You do know that you've got a department full of talented sailors who are going home at three o'clock every afternoon because they don't have enough to do," Ben pointed out with a sigh.
"They don't know the code like I do. I wrote most of it, and now I need to figure out why it doesn't work. It's just quicker this way," Lucas replied.
"Quicker for you to do it by yourself, or quicker for ten of them to attack it at once? You've got to delegate something, Lucas, or you'll go crazy. Take it from someone who knows. My first tour—oh, it was a mess. I drugged myself up on so much caffeine and No-Doze that I wound up having to have my stomach pumped.
"Besides," Ben continued before Lucas could get a word in edgewise, "You, me, and dang near everyone else who even looks at the bridge on the underway watchbill have to start spending at least two hours a day in the simulator, every day—XO's orders. You aren't going to fit that in if you don't trust some of your people to get stuff done."
"The XO is already making me spend three hours in there every day. That's why I haven't had time to do my regular work. And there are some things I really can't delegate."
"And there are some things you can. I know you can't delegate everything, Lucas—that's why they pay us such princely salaries, after all—but you've got to give your guys a chance to do something. They'll hate you for it, if you don't."
Lucas almosttold Ben that he was crazy, but he knew the other officer was right. The sailors in his department were top-notch…and he'd over heard more than one of them making a comment about how no one on the boat seemed to trust them. He even understood how they felt, sort of. Except…
He sighed. "That doesn't change the fact that the captain's been ignoring everything I've been doing. If I'm not even the one doing this stuff anymore..."
"Is that what you think?" Ben asked suddenly, comprehension dawning on his face. "You think he hasn't been noticing it? Hell, Lucas—I'd give my right leg to get him out of my hair sometimes. I'm happy when he leaves me alone, because that means he's trusting me to get my job done without supervision."
Lucas wasn't sure if Ben was just trying to make him feel better. He could understand the bit about the captain showing trust by not supervising him, but their relationship hadn't ever been like that. "On the old seaQuest, he was always checking up on what I'd been doing, ask about my results, why I was doing things the way I was…"
"Yeah, that's 'cause you were a kid back then. You're not, now." His friend grinned. "I think he realizes that."
"He didn't do it to treat me like a kid. He did it to treat me like a colleague. That's what scientists do, Ben."
"But not what Naval Officers do. In our profession, staying out of people's hair is a big sign of trust, especially coming from the Captain. It means he trusts you to come tell him if there's a problem," Ben explained. "And he knows you, so he knows you will."
Ben's statement hurt, though it was clearly meant as a compliment. Lucas wasn't entirely sure why it did. He'd been in the Navy for months, and he was reminded every day of the fact that he was an officer now. But hearing it put like that seemed different. Maybe…maybe things were more different than he'd realized, and he was only making things worse for himself by being sensitive about it, even if he was only doing so within the confines of his own mind.
He sighed. "Look, thanks for the beer, Ben, but I should probably be getting back to the Q. I've got to go in early tomorrow."
"Yeah, me too. We've got a bunch of galley equipment coming in, and I've got to be there to receive it and sign on every dotted line. Oh, the fun times of being the Supply Officer! I get to do such exciting things."
"You wouldn't trade jobs for anything, and we both know it," Lucas replied, taking one last swig of his beer before standing up.
"Definitely not." Ben finished off his beer, too, and swung an arm around Lucas' shoulders as they walked out. "Look at us. Just like old times—except for the part about you being legal to drink, and all." He grinned. "That's new."
"Yeah, and you being old," Lucas teased. But Ben was right, it did feel like old times, at least for the most part. The thing with the captain was still going to eat at him, but for now he could pretend like nothing had changed.
They laughed together, and left the bar. At least tomorrow was Sunday, which meant that Lucas really didn't have to be in too early...but recently the entire crew had been working at least six days a week, and most of the officers had been in for at least a half day on Sundays, too. It wasn't exactly fun, but at least Lucas felt like he was doing something useful—which sure beat babysitting Ph.D. students.
A/N: We know this chapter's a bit slow, but the setup is just about done, and we're about to start moving into a lot more action. Next chapter: "The Rising Tide". Here, the reality of war hits Lucas right where it hurts, seaQuest's entire schedule gets thrown in the crapper, and Bridger gets painted into a corner he's not sure he wants to be in. While you're waiting for that fun to arrive, though, please do review!