Command Authority, page 19
part #5 of Last Hunter Series
His shock made him a few moments late saluting as the man approached, but the commander didn’t seem overly perturbed by that as he returned the gesture. Derek made up for it by smiling as well as he could and extending a hand. “Commander McGregor? Lieutenant Derek Calvo. Welcome aboard Delta Orionis.”
“I won’t say it’s a pleasure to be here, but it sure is nice seeing a ship like this come to save our asses,” McGregor said, looking around the vast small craft bay. “I’ve gotta start by apologizing for my uniform. Until a few hours ago, I was retired. I’ve been out of the Navy for ten years, and I never expected to try to stuff myself back into the damned thing, but when a rear admiral tells you that you’ve been recalled, you get moving.”
Derek considered this new information and adjusted how he’d approach the situation. This man wasn’t necessarily his enemy, and if he could get on his good side, he could find out a lot of information about what Rear Admiral Allen intended.
“War makes us all do things we never expected,” he told McGregor. “If you want to change into something a bit more comfortable, I promise I won’t judge.”
“I’m tempted, kid, believe me, but it’s not right to be performing official duties in cargo shorts and flip-flops.”
“Then perhaps we could talk while one of our people sees about making some… adjustments to your uniform? I’m afraid your pants will rip off while you’re walking down the corridor, and that wouldn’t be good for Navy decorum.”
McGregor laughed. “Ain’t that the truth? Tell you what, I think I’ll go with that. I don’t want to humiliate myself any more than I already am, and it doesn’t matter if we spend a few minutes sitting around while we get to know one another. I’d appreciate the assistance in making sure I don’t have a very unfortunate wardrobe malfunction.”
“Are you alone, or do I need to have someone look after your pilot?”
“It’s just me.”
Derek pulled his comm off his belt and called Lieutenant Commander Hutton. The supply officer knew where everything aboard the ship was, and if anyone could do some work on Commander McGregor’s uniform, it was him.
When he’d made the arrangements, Derek gestured for the other Navy officer to come with him. Rather than taking him through one of the more traveled sections of the ship, he went to a small office just off the small craft bay where briefings between the pilots on any particular mission might happen. Since they didn’t have a dedicated pilot corps, it was empty.
Once the two officers were seated, the Marines planted themselves on either side of the hatch with bemused expressions.
“So, what brings you to Hunter, Commander?” Derek asked. “What can we do for you, and thus the admiral?”
McGregor pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped at his face. Even that little bit of travel had made him sweat. It was hard to believe someone this out of shape had piloted a cutter so professionally. It just showed that one couldn’t judge a person’s skills by their appearance. That was true of him, and he also needed to keep it in mind for other people.
“He wants an assessment of the condition of this warship. I had no idea what he was talking about until I did some research while I was stuffing myself into my uniform. This is one of the battleships that fought during the last invasion, right? I gotta say that I never expected to see one and just looking at it on approach filled me with all kinds of emotions that were hard to put a name to. This ship has been through the wringer. It sure as hell looks like you fought more than a couple battles.”
“Roughly half a dozen that I’ve been aboard for,” Derek agreed. “Some of them pretty tough. We were lucky to survive and even luckier to win. Not that our skills are lacking, but the ship was in bad shape when we started. Whatever you see today, just imagine what it was after being ignored for almost two centuries.”
McGregor nodded. “I can imagine.”
Before he could say anything else, the hatch slid open, and Hutton came in with two people trailing behind, pushing a trolley. He smiled at them as they both rose to their feet. Then grinned as he looked at McGregor. “Commander, you’re almost out of uniform.”
“Tell me about it,” McGregor muttered. “None of this was my idea, and I didn’t have any control over the timeframe. If you can help me here, I’d really appreciate it.”
“If you’ll strip out of your uniform jacket and pants, I’ve found some cloth that I believe will help. I can use regular Navy uniform fabric to expand everything I need. These gentlemen will help me get you fitted, and we should have you looking better in about half an hour. I hope you don’t mind chatting with the good lieutenant in your skivvies.”
“It’s not the worst thing that’s happened to me, so I’ll manage. Thank you, Commander.”
It took everyone Hutton had brought to help hold McGregor upright while he got out of his pants, but nothing disastrous happened. Once the jacket was off and they’d taken some measurements, McGregor sat. Derek found he was a lot more relaxed than he’d expected. It was hard for McGregor to project any authority in his undershorts.
“Speaking of being out of uniform, what are you wearing?” McGregor asked. “It looks like you’re playing dress-up. And speaking of playing dress-up, just how old are you? Do you even shave regularly?”
Okay, that was playing dirty.
“That’s a couple of questions, so I’ll start off with the uniform. These are the duty uniforms we’re required by regulation to wear for the battleship division. Nobody ever got around to updating that to something more modern, and these were the uniforms we had in stock. Could we change now? Probably, but I think we’ve grown used to them. Besides, I think they give us a bit of panache.”
“Panache? It looks like you’re at some kind of convention, though I’ll grant you do look sharp. What about your age? I’ve met a lot of lieutenants over the years, and you don’t look old enough to be a midshipman.”
“That’s more complicated,” Derek admitted with a sigh. “When the war started, I was in the Naval Academy. To say that we were short of people that could operate a ship like this would be a huge understatement. Some friends and I brought skills operating the old technology to the table, and Commodore Romanoff has been putting us to use. I was delighted with being promoted to ensign, but he believed my leadership skills were of a level to make me a lieutenant. I’m not going to argue with a commodore.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” McGregor said with a nod. “What skills did you bring to the table, and how did you get them?”
“I’m the senior helm officer, though not the head of the department. I’ve got the skills to use the independent quantum drive and to maneuver this battleship in combat. Believe it or not, I got the skills through a game. Those of us manning the bridge had high-level skills in the game, and I mean tournament level. We were good, which has allowed us to carry through and defeat the Locusts at every turn.”
McGregor held up a hand. “Whoa! You’re telling me that Romanoff has been fighting this ship using gamers? That can’t be right. Where are all the Navy officers?”
Derek shrugged. “Circumstances were weird. When Hunter set out, there were very few naval officers available. Commodore Nastasi has a staff, and we took aboard the crew of a wrecked Navy cruiser, but for a ship that’s supposed to have five thousand people, there are a lot of naval Academy students and recruits aboard. The same was true of the Marines, though we’ve managed to supplement them with some planetary defense forces personnel from New Copenhagen. The thing you need to keep in mind is that while we started off green, we’ve been through blood and fire. Just because we look young, don’t dismiss us. As you probably very well know, appearances can be deceiving.”
McGregor grunted. “I suppose there’s something to that. It’s been a long time since I was in active service, and to say that I’m a bit rusty doesn’t go nearly far enough. That cutter there is my personal property because I own a transport company. I wouldn’t even have those skills if I didn’t use them all the time. I’ll try to keep what you’ve said in mind, but I need to warn you that this won’t carry much water with Admiral Allen. I never served directly under the man, but I’ve heard things.”
“That’s not my fight, sir. Commodore Romanoff is more than capable of doing what needs to be done, and I work for him. Let me be clear, Commander McGregor, this ship is under the commodore’s command, and I’m not going to be dictated to while I’m following his orders. I’m more than willing to show you around, but that’s a courtesy. Clear?”
“Hey, it ain’t no skin off my nose. Allen wanted a rundown of the situation aboard this ship, and I’m going to give him that report. What he does with it isn’t my business. If I had any choice in the matter, I’d rather not have been reactivated. As you can see, I like food, and I’m not a big fan of exercise these days, so Navy uniforms and me don’t mix, if you know what I mean.”
Derek wasn’t thrilled with the idea that some flag officer would try and dictate how their ship was run—particularly since they had no idea how to fight this war—but that was above his pay grade. His job right now was to represent this ship and make sure everything was done the way the commodore needed. If Romanoff decided Allen was calling the shots, then Derek didn’t have any say in the matter.
“If you’ll stand up, Commander, I believe we’ve got your pants in order,” Hutton said. “The jacket will take a few more minutes, and there’s no need to be uncomfortable.”
Derek watched with amusement as the three men helped McGregor into his pants and noted with approval that they didn’t fall down or threaten to split apart.
While the reactivated officer was walking around the compartment and making sure that the pants fit well enough, Hutton and the others wrapped up the work on his jacket and quickly had him back together.
Derek eyed the clothes that Hutton was using for scraps. Where had those Navy uniforms come from? Then it hit him. Those would’ve been from Hawkwing. Either they were salvaged from the ship before they’d abandoned it, or they’d come from dead or injured crew people. That was both dark and grim but somewhat amusing as well. He’d just keep that information to himself.
Once they were done and Commander McGregor was once again in uniform, he thanked Hutton and let the others depart. Then he turned his attention to the officer that had come to inspect his ship.
“Well, I think we’ve covered the background as much as we can,” Derek said as he gestured toward the hatch. “I’ll cover everything we’ve been through and what we’re using to work around those things we can’t get running while I take you up to the bridge. If you’ve never been on a ship like this before, you’re in for a treat. I appreciate you giving me the heads-up about Admiral Allen.”
McGregor stayed facing him rather than turning toward the hatch. “While none of us had a great look at what went on when you arrived, this ship destroyed a lot of Locusts. That carries a lot of weight. Between you, me, and the table, Admiral Allen has a bad reputation. He’s a micromanager and can be something of a tin horn dictator. If Commodore Romanoff lets him push him around, that man will end up in charge of fighting this war, and I’m not so sure that’s a winning proposition, if you know what I mean.”
Derek smiled at McGregor’s continued use of that phrase. It had to be a favorite of his.
“I do, and we’ll do the best we can. In the end, we all want to save humanity, don’t we? There are some things I can’t talk about because they’re classified, but I’m sure the commodore will be filling the Admiral in as quickly as possible. This isn’t the time to jostle the driver’s elbow. Commodore Romanoff knows what he’s doing, and we need to trust that he can lead us to victory.”
He turned toward the hatch. “Now, let me give you a tour of the ship and fill you in on our condition.”
As they headed out, he really hoped that Commodore Romanoff didn’t let Admiral Allen run over him. He doubted he would, but the very last thing they needed was some officious desk jockey thinking they knew how to fight a war. Humanity was one loss away from slavery and worse.
21
Jack spent the next hour explaining what they’d been doing to Admiral Allen and Commodore Monahan. To his dismay, the admiral wanted to spend more time discussing the validity of his uniform choices and the steps he’d taken getting his ship ready for battle than the threat hanging over their heads.
Being as patient as he could, Jack explained everything and moved on to each new subject as quickly as he could, trying to shepherd the conversation back to the important matters.
Interestingly, both Sara and Commodore Monahan stayed quiet. Sara had to be feeling a bit out of place because this wasn’t the area under her responsibility. She shouldn’t even be here, and the other woman might see her as an intruder.
Jack kept a few items to himself. High on that list was Lisa’s condition and the fact Regex had been implanted inside her. That would come up at some point, but he wanted to hold that off until he had no choice but to reveal it. The other items were more prosaic. Details on who was running Port Royale, what he had to promise them, and the ambiguous relationship with the Tardan civilians.
He had mentioned the colony ships. He just hadn’t said what he’d done with them. He figured other things were more important. Apparently, Rear Admiral Allen disagreed.
“This is quite the mess you’ve dumped into my lap, Romanoff,” he said with a grimace. “I suppose we’ve got several things to work out. We should probably start by verifying that your rank is authentic. Yes, yes. I understand Commodore Nastasi indicated it is, but she’s outside her area of operations and lacks authority here. Naval judicial matters in the cluster are Commodore Monahan’s bailiwick, so I’d like her opinion.”
The woman, her expression still serene, leaned forward and smiled. “If Sara says the orders are valid, I’m willing to accept that, though I will verify them for formality’s sake. I would like the orders for our records, but she and I went to the Academy together, and I’ve known her for years. I’ve never had reason to doubt my judgment, and I won’t start now. You can take those orders at face value, Admiral.”
It didn’t look like that particular pronouncement pleased him, but Allen nodded. “Very well. What about the commissions and promotions? That’s outside the authority of a ship’s commander or flag officer. The office of personnel is responsible for both of those items. I understand he needed to fill the command positions with anyone he could get his hands on, but these are children, and none have been trained to be officers. Surely that’s not legal.”
“The regulations during wartime are somewhat different than in peace, Admiral,” Sara said. “Under normal operational circumstances, Commodore Romanoff wouldn’t have been able to authorize a commission for anyone, much less give them an actual promotion as opposed to a brevet one. With the invasion in progress, that triggered some provisions in our general regulations as well as the authority given to the commander of the battleship division. While I’m certain some of his decisions may be questioned at a later time, they are valid.”
“I see,” the man said with a tone that said he didn’t agree. “I appreciate the measures you’ve taken to fight back against these aliens, but the overall strategic decisions going forward are no longer yours. That duty falls to me as the senior Navy officer in the cluster, so far as we know. I may not be able to directly command your vessel, but you will respect my strategic orders.”
“No, sir,” Jack said politely. “I’m afraid the general orders covering the invasion, as well as the orders for the battleship division, are clear that I hold that responsibility.”
Allen’s face grew dark. “You overstep yourself, Romanoff. While I respect what you’ve accomplished and am willing to listen to the experience you’ve earned the hard way, you don’t get to place yourself outside the chain of command. If I understand correctly, you were a captain on the verge of being cashiered just months ago, so don’t lecture me about my suitability to command in place of you.”
“Not to be offensive, sir, but let’s discuss your suitability,” Jack countered. “What command experience do you have? What departments have you worked in aboard a warship?”
Allen ground his teeth hard enough that Jack could see his jaw muscles clench. “I never served aboard a ship as my work is administrative, but as a rear admiral, I have significantly more experience in general than you. Don’t let the fact that your father wrote those orders for you while he was in charge of the Navy go to your head. He’s out of the picture, and you have to deal with the circumstances in which you find yourself.”
“My father is far from out of the picture, sir,” Jack said with a slight shake of his head. “He’s been called back to service and is currently acting as a full admiral in command of the defense of the Confederation outside the cluster. I understand my obligations and under what circumstances I must bow to the chain of command. You may believe you have more experience, sir, but it’s an illusion. None of what we went through during peacetime prepared us for this war. My people and I have fought half a dozen battles and bled until we were white. That’s the kind of experience we have to have since a single loss will cost us the cluster.”
“I don’t accept that,” Allen said firmly. “I’ll have my people go over everything in these regulations until I find what I need, and don’t doubt for a moment that I will find it. Defy me, and I will have you brought up on charges. Your ship will remain in orbit until I authorize its departure. I have someone inspecting your vessel, and they’ll report back to me on its current condition. If you push matters too far, I may decide it’s better I command this vessel in person than in a more strategic sense from Argent. Don’t push me, Romanoff.”
Jack wished he could let things go—or let Sara do the negotiations—but this was one of those situations where he didn’t have that option. If he allowed this desk jockey to wedge himself into some position of authority over him, he’d micromanage the fight from the background or demand to be there in person. There were no circumstances under which that was good for humanity, and he could not allow it to occur.
