Lieutenants

By Scott Washburn

Book Two

Chapter 13

"All hands stand by for acceleration! Repeat: All hands stand by for acceleration!" The speaker mounted in the ceiling blasted out the announcement so loudly Anny flinched.

"Man, they aren't wasting any time!" exclaimed Private Kerbeck. "We just got aboard this tub!" The other members of Anny's platoon were shuffling through the airlock leading from the hanger bay.

"Don't call it a tub if there are any crewmen around," warned Anny. "They tend to get upset about things like that."

"Sure thing, Lieutenant," smirked Kerbeck.

"Should we hold on to something, sir?" asked a young private named Urbaniak. He was looking around for a handhold, she guessed.

"No, that was for the crew, not us. If the compensator is working properly we won't feel a thing."

"And if it's not working?"

"We still won't feel a thing."

"Yeah, 'cause we'll all be squashed to strawberry jam before we'll even notice, right, Lieutenant?" said Kerbeck looking at Urbaniak, who had gone pale.

"That's right," sighed Anny. "But don't worry, the crewmen take very good care of the compensators. First time off planet, private?"

"Y-yessir. Well, except for a few hops in shuttles during training."

"You'll be fine." Anny turned as Sergeant Kay made his way up to her through the tightly packed troopers. "All present, Platoon Sergeant?"

"Yes sir."

"All right, stick together and let's see if we can find our berths. They're all on this deck, so they shouldn't be too far." She automatically reached for her computer pad, but it wasn't on her belt the way it would normally be. Parade red-and-blues, what a pain! Generally Anny liked fancy uniforms quite a lot, but the traditional Barrayaran parade uniforms were patterned after a type worn by the Vorbarra clan infantry several centuries earlier. The only pockets were in the long tails in back that hung down to the knees. Anny fumbled around until she managed to pull the 'pad out and turn it on.

"Okay," she said, consulting their orders and an attached deck plan of the ship, "we should be down this way, compartment E-19." She was about to say 'grab your gear', but they didn't have any gear. They'd been shipped directly up from Vorbarr Sultana after the big send-off parade with nothing but their uniforms and ceremonial weapons. Supposedly all their other gear had already been sent up and ought to be waiting for them. She hoped it was. "Follow me."

She led her platoon past the other groups of milling troopers. The way seemed familiar to her and it was. They were aboard the Imperial attack transport Stalwart. Anny had spent a few days aboard the ship during an exercise in her third year at the Academy. What was the name of that ensign who had piloted their shuttle? Kershaw, that was it. She wondered if he was still aboard.

E-Deck on Stalwart was where all the important stuff was located—at least if you were an assault trooper. Arrayed along both sides were the bays where the assault shuttles were kept. Just inboard of those were where the troopers' suits of battle armor were stored. And then along the center of the deck were the berthing quarters for the men.

"Birthing quarters?" snorted Private Kerbeck when someone used the term. "Ya mean like a maternity ward or something? Ain't nobody here gonna be giving birth … er…." his laughter faltered when he saw Anny staring at him.

"Kerbeck, how the hell do you manage to walk with one foot in your mouth all the time?" asked Corporal Whelan.

"Mmmph… practice… Mmmph!" choked Kerbeck, hopping on one foot. The men laughed and Anny grinned. They were all in good spirits. Off on a big adventure. She was so glad to be back with them!

"Here we are, E-19," said Anny. The compartment was filled with bunks stacked four high. Each bunk had several large duffle bags sitting on it, the men's gear, presumably. The two walls flanking the door were rows of lockers. The far wall had three doors in it. One led to the showers and toilets which also connected to three other berthing compartments. If everything had been organized properly they would be occupied by the other three platoons of C Company. A second door led to what Anny assumed was the officers' quarters. But when she looked inside the bunks were filled with the gear of the platoon's sergeants and corporals. On her training cruise they had put the cadet-officers in there… where…?

The third door solved the mystery. It had been sealed on her training cruise, but now it was open and she saw that it led to a steep set of steps that went up to D Deck. Rechecking her orders, she saw that, indeed, she was listed as being on D Deck. Of course. Heaven forbid that officers would bunk near their men! Actually, it was a bit of a relief. She hadn't been sure how she would work out the bathroom arrangements.

Assured that her men were getting settled in, Anny trotted up the steps and into a long corridor with lots of doors. There were a batch of officers wandering up and down looking at the numbers on the doors. She smiled when she saw Patric Mederov. He had been briefly given command of her platoon, but had graciously agreed to shift to A Company when she returned. "Hey, Anny", he said when he saw her.

"Hi Patric! Found your bunk yet?"

"No, but it must be up this way, I think."

"There seems to be stairs leading down to each company. You'd think they'd put us right next to the stairs to our men." She looked at the numbers on the doors close by and that clearly wasn't the case.

"Naw, that would make too much sense. I'm in D-44, that must be back this way," he said, pointing toward the stern.

"Looks like I'm in the other direction. Well, see you later." Her orders said she was in D-09, which ought to be right about… there. She hesitated before hitting the entry button. Was this a standard two-person compartment? Would she be expected to share it with another officer or would they put her in here alone? On her apprentice cruise they'd given her the quarters intended for a company commander. In the last minute rush to get her back with the regiment had anyone even thought about her situation? What if in some bizarre cosmic practical joke she was paired with one of Adrien Vorkerkas' buddies? At least it couldn't be him since he was on the 2nd battalion transport. She took a breath and pushed the entry button. The door slid open and she saw that the room was not unoccupied, but…

"Jac!"

"Ah, there you are, sir," said her dog-robber, looking up from a pile of her things on the bunk. "Welcome aboard."

"What… what are you doing here?" she gasped. "The ship is breaking orbit! You won't be able to get back down!"

"Not going back down, sir," said the elderly soldier with a grin. "Coming along with you."

"But… but… your wife! And you'll be retiring soon!" Anny was flabbergasted.

"Not retiring for almost two years, sir. And Polly said that she was letting me off the leash for one last time. After I get back I'm hers for good. D'you want your tunics hanging up or folded?"

"Uh, hanging if there's a spot. But Jac, we're heading into a combat zone!"

"Wouldn't be the first time for me, sir."

"Really?" Anny had had many a conversation with Jac, but he'd never said anything about being in combat!

"My first time was during Vordarian's War. I was a raw recruit, of course, hell, they pulled my whole training battalion out of camp, gave us rifles, and sent us to one of the trouble spots. Not a lot of fighting, of course—hell, we didn't even know which side we were on until it was all over—but a few of my buddies got nicked. After that, well, I was a lot of places where a person could get shot at. Komarr, during the uprising… fought pirates once or thrice… oh, other times, here and there. This shouldn't be much different, I'm thinking. Besides, someone needs to look out for you, sir."

"Where… where are you bunking?" The compartment did have two beds…

"Oh, with the other non-commissioned staff, Lieutenant. One deck down. Don't worry, I'm all settled in. Came up here with all the other gear yesterday. And some damn good chow on this here ship, sir."

"Yes, one good thing about the navy."

"But here I am yacking away and you wanting to be out of those red-and-blues, I'm certain! Always hated those things. I'll wait out in the passageway while you change, sir, then I can get the rest of your kit unpacked." He went through the door and shut it behind him.

Anny stared after him for half a minute, a warm glow inside her. Having Jac along made things just feel… right, somehow. She had become quite fond of her old dog-robber over the months he'd been working for her and she'd been upset that during the mad rush to get herself re-integrated with the company that she hadn't been able to find him to say good-bye—now she knew why!

She shook herself and peeled off her parade uniform and hung it up, thinking how ridiculous it was to haul it halfway across the Nexus and back again when she wouldn't need it for anything. She wasn't sure if undress greens or black fatigues would be more appropriate for shipboard, but she decided on the side of caution and went with the greens. Normally, the uniform for the day was announced beforehand, but no one seemed to have thought of it today. Just as she was finishing up, the door buzzer went off and a moment later the door slid open. Jac was standing there with a strange expression on his face.

"Uh, sir, your… uh… your roommate is here."

"My what…?" Roommate? Who…?

Jac stood aside and a person stepped up to the door.

A woman.

"Lieutenant Payne?" she said. "I'm Chief Medical Technician Tropio, 389th Field Hospital Company. My orders say I'm supposed to stay here."

[Scene Break]

"It just never occurred to me that there would be other women with the expedition," said Anny. "I mean I know that's stupid; I know that there have been women in the medical services for a long time, but I've just… just…"

"Gotten used to being the only woman around?" finished Christine Tropio, with a grin. The two women were sitting on their bunks, facing each other. Tropio looked to be about ten years older than Anny, half a head shorter, and her pale blonde hair was cut nearly as short as Anny's dark brown locks.

"Yes," said Anny with a snort. "There were times at the Academy when I'd sort of forget that women even existed until I'd see myself in the mirror."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Dealing with nothing but men day after day it gets to feel like the whole world is male."

"But you say there are eight other women in your company? Where are they staying?"

"They curtained off a section for them in the NCO quarters in one of the normal company berths. My company is quartered just aft of your troopers. But apparently, as the senior tech, they are now considering me as a sort of officer, so they sent me up here. I hope you don't mind—not that it would make any difference if you did."

"No! Not at all! I think it will be… really good having you here. But are you in command of your company, Chris?"

Tropio snorted. "Not likely! Haven't you heard? Women aren't fit to command men." She stared at Anny and grinned. "But no, I guess you haven't heard that, have you?"

"I've caught a few rumors to that effect," said Anny, grinning in turn. "But maybe some changes are coming."

"Maybe. Actually, my CO, Lieutenant Krelnikov, isn't a bad sort. He's willing to give us girls a chance and, in fact, I do end up commanding a lot of men. Not that they'd admit it, of course, since I'm not technically a soldier." A note of bitterness seeped into Tropio's voice and Anny nodded sympathetically. The medtech was wearing a uniform, but it was distinctly different from any worn by the regular military. It was a pale green—almost the same shade as surgical scrubs—and lacking most of the military style and decorations that made Barrayaran uniforms so snazzy. And while Tropio wore a name badge that said she was a senior medical technician, there was no rank insignia of any sort. At least the women were permitted to wear trousers—although Anny had noticed when Tropio was unpacking that her 'dress' uniform included a knee-length skirt that was worn over her trousers.

"Well, I'm certainly glad to have you along, in any case," said Anny. "They're attaching one hospital company with each battalion?"

"That's what we've been told. I know you assault troopers don't have much in the way of organic medical support."

"No, that's true. We're supposed to be as self-contained as possible to stay mobile. Our armor can supply quite a bit of first aid and there are two men in each platoon with extra training, but for serious injuries we need outside help." Anny hesitated. "If any of the men give you or your girls any trouble let me know."

Tropio smiled. "We're pretty good at taking care of ourselves, Anny. But if we run into anything we can't handle, I'll be sure to tell you." Now Tropio hesitated. "Sometimes there's trouble when we're first attached to a unit. The men don't know what to think of us and, well, some of them think the wrong thing. But usually, once we've worked with them for a while, the men are glad to have the Vivs around."

"Vivs?"

"Oh, that's what we call ourselves. It's short for vivandiere. It's French. Means 'givers of life' or some such thing. Goes way, way back in history, Old Earth. Women who followed the men into battle and carried water and dressed wounds and such. I guess some people would call them camp-followers, but they wore uniforms and were on the unit rosters and got issued rations even if they weren't paid. Not sure how we picked up the term, but it's all through the medical service."

"Interesting. So how did you decide to become a Viv, Chris?"

Tropio shrugged. "I wanted to be a doctor. But I had no money for school and I didn't rate a scholarship. So I figured Imperial service might be a way around. Put in my twenty years and then use my benefits to go back to school. I'm a little over halfway there. Picking up a lot of good experience, too."

"But surely you haven't had to treat many wounded men. I mean there's no war—or wasn't until now."

"There are always training accidents. And a few years ago we were in that big fire in Vorkosigan District and…"

"You were there? So was I!" exclaimed Anny.

"With all the cadets, sure. We heard about that, although my unit was way down at the other end of the line. Plenty of injuries to treat there. Almost like a combat zone, I guess."

"Well, hopefully you won't be kept too busy on this deployment. Nobody seems to know just how much fighting we'll run into. There might not be any at all."

"You sound disappointed at the possibility. I've heard you've already seen combat yourself, Anny. You eager for more?"

"I'm a soldier; it's what I do," she answered. Then her thoughts went back to those hours on Dounby. "I don't know. It was scary and we lost a lot of men, but still… it was… I wouldn't have wanted to miss it."

"Not eager for combat, but eager to be allowed to do the job you've trained for. Yeah, I guess I can understand that. I hate seeing men all torn up and in pain, but if they didn't go out and get themselves all torn up I'd have no reason for being here, either. It's a strange thing, isn't it? Did you always want to be a soldier, Anny?"

"I… guess so. I'm not sure, really. My father was a 20-year man and I wasn't born until after he retired. My older brother, Peter, he was always army-mad and everyone expected him to follow in our father's footsteps. Da had come from a long line of men who had served. He'd tell these great stories about his time with the fleet—he was an assault trooper, too. Peter and him would play army in the woods and sometimes they let me play with them. But then Peter was killed…"

"How?"

"Logging accident. He had an after-school job and one day a load of logs fell on him."

"I'm sorry. Up in those mountains you'd be a long way from any emergency medical care."

Anny nodded. She could still feel the shock and pain. "It killed my da. He just couldn't handle it. He died less than a year afterwards."

"So you took your brother's place." Tropio was staring at her intently.

"I promised my da I would. He didn't believe me, of course, but it made him smile. It was the first time he'd smiled since Peter died. And the last time, too."

"So you made an impossible promise. One that you couldn't possibly keep. But you kept it anyway, even though it was impossible."

"I… I had a lot of help. I never would have even had the chance without Countess Vorkosigan's help."

"Somehow I doubt she sought you out, Anny."

"Well, no, but…"

"You've got grit. Should have known you would—you'd never have made it here without it."

"Sounds like you and your girls have a fair share of grit, too, Chris."

"Hell, yes. You could use the lot of us for sandpaper."

Anny laughed. "I think it's going to be fun having you around."

"Well, fun or not, I'm gonna be here with you for the next four months. No telling where they'll send us once we get where we're going, but until then we're roommates." Tropio stuck out her hand. They had already shaken hands when they first met, but Anny took the hand and shook it again.

Before either of them could say anything else, an announcement came over the intercom: "Attention! All 1st Battalion officers report to the briefing room. D-Deck, compartment D-02. Repeat: All…"

Anny popped to her feet. "Gotta go! See you later, Chris."

"Okay," replied the woman. "Still got some unpacking to do and I need to check on my girls. Oh, and we're gonna have to talk about this dog-robber of yours, too. I know you gotta pay him, but if he's gonna be doing chores for me, too, then I ought to chip in."

Anny went out into the corridor and saw that it was filled with officers heading forward. At the end of the corridor there was a large compartment with tables and chairs and even viewports looking out. The attack transports were designed to be able to keep a fighting force in good condition even after extended periods in space. So even though the men were crammed together in their berthing spaces, there were a number of larger compartments where men could gather in more comfort. One deck below this officer's briefing room there was an even bigger space where the troops could exercise or relax. Anny found a seat and was pleased when Patric sat on one side of her and Sven Estaban on the other.

"How are you doing, guys?" she asked. "All settled in?"

"Nearly," replied Patric.

"Yeah, and have you heard? There are women on this ship!" said Estaban, grinning.

"What? No way!" said Anny, grinning back at him. "You must have been seeing things!"

"Well, I haven't actually seen any myself, but I have it from a reliable source. Nurses or something."

"Really?" said Patric. "Maybe I'll go stub my toe and check things out for myself."

"Actually, I'm bunking with one of them. Seems nice."

"Oh, ho!" crowed Estaban. "Introduce me to her will you?"

"She might be a bit old for you, Sven…"

"I like older women! Is she pretty?"

Anny was saved having to answer that when Major Vorglanov came into the room. Everyone shut up and jumped to their feet. Vorglanov went to a podium at the front of the room; he had a small smile on his face. He'd been looking pleased with himself, Anny thought, ever since his promotion to major. There had been a whole wave of promotions in the regiment in preparation for the expedition. Most of them were long overdue. And a number of new officers had transferred in, as well. With this the first chance for real combat in many years, anyone with any ambition wanted to be part of it. If they had influence, they pulled whatever strings they had. And apparently the high command had felt that with replacements a four-month trip away, it would be sensible to send some extra officers along. As a result, the 61st (and presumably the other regiments) were now actually over-strength. There were a half-dozen new faces among the battalion's officers, in addition to Patric Mederov. One of them, an Ensign Vorstuban, had been assigned to C Company. He'd graduated with her class from the Academy, but she didn't really know him. And he wasn't on the assault trooper track with us. How'd he manage to get here?

"Good evening, everyone, sit down please," said Vorglanov. "Quite a day, eh? I know everyone's tired, so I won't keep you long. I just wanted to reiterate some of things I said dirtside, now that you've had a chance to see the ship. We've got quite a challenge facing us. And I'm not talking about what's waiting for us at Nova Paveo! I'm talking about what's facing us right here on this ship! We've got a four month trip ahead of us with only three or four scheduled chances for shore leave. The men are going to get edgy and bored and unless we officers do our jobs to maintain discipline and keep their fighting edge, we'll be delivering a dispirited mob instead of a battalion of Imperial soldiers. We will do our jobs, gentlemen!" Vorglanov stared at them with a stern expression. "Now, most of you have spent time with the fleet before, so this isn't new. You already know a lot of the tricks to keep the men happy and focused. But this is a longer trip than normal and at the end of it we'll be going into combat instead of returning home. Frankly, we don't have much experience in a mission of this type so we have to expect surprises to pop up.

"One thing that will add some interesting challenges and opportunities is the multi-national nature of this venture. Over the next few weeks we will be rendezvousing with the other contingents of the expedition. I've been informed that once that is complete we will be having some joint exercises with the other forces. In addition to that, we will be having 'social' contacts with our counterparts. I'm not entirely sure just what that will entail, but I'll pass along any information when I get it. But in the meantime we will train the men and keep them busy. Obviously the facilities on the ship are limited and we will have to rotate the men through them and that will mean an around-the-clock duty schedule which will be posted shortly. Questions?"

"Uh, yes sir," said Captain Harris of B Company. "When can we expect to get some tactical briefings about our mission on Nova Paveo?"

Vorglanov snorted. "Good question! I wish I had an answer. All I've been told is that we will be briefed at some point. I suspect that it won't be until the last minute. And I guess I can't really blame the generals for that. Any information we have is months out of date and will be even more out of date as time goes by. Our mission may have to be completely re-written once we get there and see what the situation really is. Brigadier Sylvanus has informed us that we will be getting a thorough briefing on the planet itself, its geography, climate and inhabitants, but tactical briefings are going to have to wait. Not the best situation, I know, but there it is"

Vorglanov gave them a few more bits of routine instructions and looked to be about to dismiss them when he paused. "Oh yes, one more thing: we have a hospital company attached to us and as I'm sure most of you have already heard, there are some female technicians among them. Gentlemen! There will be no… how do I put this…?" Vorglanov paused.

He's going to say it. I just know he's going to say it… thought Anny.

"Shenanigans," said Vorglanov. Anny groaned softly. "Yes, that's the word: shenanigans. There will be no shenanigans, gentlemen. No fraternization between these women and the men. Those orders come right from the top. Those women will be treated with the utmost respect. Remind your men that at some point in future those women may be literally holding their lives in their hands. They are professional medical personnel, as highly skilled in their fields as any of us are in ours. No inappropriate behavior will be tolerated. If any issues arise—any issues at all concerning those women—you will report them to…" Vorglanov hesitated and his eyes scanned over the assembled officers.

Oh shit…

"Lieutenant Payne," the inevitable words came out of his mouth and Anny winced. "Yes, Lieutenant Payne will be our liaison with the female medical technicians." He focused on her. "Payne, you will see to it that no trouble arises, understood?"

Anny stifled the exasperated sigh that was struggling to get out and simply said: "Yes, sir. I understand."