Convoy (The Shelby Logan Chronicles Book 1) Read online

  She didn't expect or want any ribbons or medals for herself, but she was by the gods going to do right by her people. They'd damn well earned that much, though she had to privately admit that some of the review process was valid. Two of her crewman had put in for Purple Hearts which were not valid. Yes, they had been injured, but the injuries had been sustained while on regular duty, not in combat. Also, one of the injuries had been relatively minor. Just about everyone on the ship got at least two medals, a good conduct medal as well as an expeditionary award. Some had four or more medals or ribbons assigned to them.

  There were fourteen Heroism, Achievement, Efficiency, and Commendation Medals when they were finished. Cynthia organized a ceremony for the crew in the mess. They didn't have enough room for the entire crew so they had to take them in batches. She called each enlisted or noncom up and gave them their awards as well as any promotions they had earned before they'd exchanged salutes and the bemused sailor had returned to his or her seat.

  The officers were awarded in the wardroom in a more subdued ceremony. Each also seemed bemused by the spotlight. Shelby knew the humble attitudes were mostly feigned but forgave them for that.

  She was surprised when the following day she was called to Admiral Subert's wardroom in her formal uniform. Cynthia also came, also in formal dress. Shelby was a bit dismayed by the sight of camera crews in the room as they were stopped by a human commander nearby and waved into a side room temporarily.

  Commander Garretaj inspected each of them critically. When they passed muster, he nodded. Shelby started to ask what was going on, but she had a sneaking suspicion. She didn't get a chance to ask as the commander put his right hand to his ear to signal he was getting a radio chat. After a moment, he nodded. “Remember to be on your best behavior for the cameras,” he murmured as he motioned for them to move out.

  Shelby took the lead, squaring her shoulders and moving at what she hoped was a proper pace. A Marine opened the door for them and she followed a text file from the commander to go to the end of the room where the human rear admiral was waiting. There Admiral Subert spoke of the southern loop mission before he awarded her a series of Achievement and Commendation Medals as well as a Meritorious Service Medal for her leadership.

  “You earned this, Captain,” Rear Admiral Subert said as he pinned the last one on. He seemed to have only a slight trace of grudging admittance in his tone of voice as they shook hands.

  “Thank you, sir. Thank you for my people too.”

  “You did a good job. Keep up the hard work, Captain,” the admiral said as he stepped back. They exchanged salutes. Then he turned to the cameras.

  ]][#]]]{OO}===}==>

  She wasn't quite out of the Admiralty's clutches however when the ceremony concluded. Her escape was cut off by a public affairs officer, a lieutenant who texted her to speak in general terms in a series of brief interviews with the major media networks.

  She did her best to buckle down and be on her best behavior under his supervision. “Captain, how bad is it in Epsilon Triangula? We've heard various reports about the damage and seen some images, but unfortunately video isn't available over the ansible,” a reporter from GNN said.

  “I know some video has been sent by courier,” Shelby said. “I don't know of what areas,” she corrected as she got a text from the public affairs flack warning her off that subject. “My ship and crew spent a lot of time helping in the rebuilding efforts. They are still ongoing of course.”

  “There are reports of vast amounts of graft and corruption in the process. Care to comment on that?” the reporter asked in a follow-up.

  “You'll have to ask someone in JAG or ET's police force about that I'm afraid. We were given a list of things to replicate and materials and did our best to fulfill the orders. Once they departed my ship, I didn't have control or oversight beyond that point,” Shelby said.

  “So you are saying there are such things?” the reporter pressed.

  “I'm saying I don't know and you need to ask someone with experience in tracking such things,” Shelby replied with a slightly put upon tone of voice as her professional skills and patience were tested. “I don't usually trade in scuttlebutt. I prefer facts, not innuendo,” she said. She turned to a Knox News reporter. “Yes?”

  “Ah, yes, Captain, you were in combat in Nightingale. Your thoughts there? Was it your first taste in combat? What was it like being on a tender? Shouldn't one of the warship captains been in charge?” she asked brightly.

  “That's a lot of questions there,” Shelby said with a smile. “Okay, let's take them in order. First, no, that wasn't my first taste in combat. I was on Firefly for several years as her chief engineer and executive officer. I served on her as her chief engineer during the battle of Pyrax and as her XO, that's executive officer, during combat in Antigua as well as B101a1,” Shelby stated. The reporter bit her lip. Shelby wasn't certain if the woman had just wanted the sound bite or hadn't done her homework. “Now I admit, it was … different to be on a tender instead of a warship while in combat. And as to your last question, no, with all due respect to Captain's Levinson and Yu, I don't believe one of the warship captains should have been in charge. I was senior officer and put in charge for a reason,” she said with a little bit of bite in her tone of voice.

  “Thank you, Captain, I know you have other duties to attend,” the public affairs lieutenant said, interposing himself in-between Shelby and the reporters as she was hustled off. “Thank you all, no more questions,” the lieutenant said as Shelby was allowed to escape. More like thrown out, she thought in amusement.

  She met her XO in the hallway. The blond woman merely shook her head at her and then motioned for them to return to their ship.

  ]][#]]]{OO}===}==>

  When Shelby had a free moment, she checked in on some of her old shipmates and former junior officers and noncoms. It would be good to catch up … and to know where a few were for the mission plan.

  One of the first people she looked up was her former Veraxin executive officer. Commander Zeb was now a captain she noted with delight, but his ship was too far out to put a call in. She typed out an email congratulating him on the new post.

  She worked her way through people she remembered, mainly those who had served on the prize crew to start. Some were in the system; others had been transferred out to other postings. When she was finished with the prize crew, she started on the list for Firefly.

  Captain Mayweather had faced her board and had been demoted for her actions in ET. It wasn't fair, but the navy wasn't about fair. It would cost her points for her next promotion she knew, but knowing Renee the other woman would just square her shoulders and get on with the job. She nodded slowly, then a new thought came to her. Where was Firefly? She hadn't heard anything in the news. She typed out an inquiry.

  She didn't like what she found.

  She hissed in disbelief when she read that Firefly had been mothballed in the reserve fleet. It wasn't right; it was so wrong to see the grand old ship reduced to floating in the void empty of crew … they hadn't even repaired her! She sat back, affronted by the entire situation. There really was no justice in the galaxy she thought acidly.

  She scrubbed her face with her hands before a new thought occurred to her. What about Captain Firefly? The ship's A.I.? Did they just leave him in the ship? Step him down too? He was a senior grade captain! She typed out an inquiry. A chat request immediately came up. She smiled and clicked respond on it.

  “I was wondering when you'd get around to me,” Captain Firefly said as the chat changed from a text version to a video chat. His image appeared on her screen as a 2D image.

  “It's not right to see the ship just sitting there. Look! They didn't even finish fixing her! Just mothballed her! That is so wrong!” Shelby protested.

  “I know. But you and I both know the old saying. The right way, wrong way, navy way. Needs must bow to the service, Captain,” Firefly stated patiently.

  “It still isn't ri
ght,” Shelby grumbled. “We need ships like yours in the service.”

  “It's cold logic, Shelby. The ship took a lot of damage; it would cost nearly as much as a new ship to make it all right again. The navy needs to invest that into new ships. They'll get around to her eventually.”

  Shelby grimaced. “I see. Well, if you are okay with it …”

  “I'm far from okay with it, Shelby, but I am more or less resigned to it. The ship is my body. The computer systems have been repaired and in some cases upgraded.”

  “I see. I was going to ask that. Do you even have a crew? A skeleton watch?” Shelby asked.

  “No. The ship is docked. They added additional hard-wire lines so I can communicate with the base effectively. Right now, I am the senior ranking A.I. in the star system. I am one of a few smart A.I. in the star system as well.”

  “Ah,” Shelby said with a nod. “So they've kept you busy? I was worried about that to be honest,” she said.

  “Thank you. I am on duty at regular times. I keep very busy, but I occasionally step on Lieutenants Kalmia's or Barry's virtual toes as you organics like to say.”

  “You are a ship A.I.; they were purposely built into the base's electronic infrastructure, right? Are you having problems with that?”

  “We have enough room to compromise,” the A.I. stated. “We are after all, professional officers. We'll get the jobs we are assigned done.”

  “Okay, just checking.”

  “And before you ask, no, I can't go out for drinks and catch up obviously,” the A.I. said.

  “You …?” Shelby chuckled. “Okay, don't say I didn't ask,” she said.

  “Technically, you didn't; I just headed you off at the pass as the saying goes,” the A.I. replied. “I've kept up on your travels and tribulations. I've read all of your reports. You did good work in each of your stops, and I thank you for your work both on my ship and with ET. I checked; I never personally did thank you for that.”

  “It is the least I could do,” Shelby murmured.

  “I do want to point out that you have an upcoming IG inspection tomorrow, so you might want to focus on that and less on looking up old acquaintances,” the A.I. said. “The inspector is a real stickler,” he warned.

  Shelby grimaced. “Okay,” she said, as her fingers pulled up a note box and wrote a note for her and the XO.

  “Your crew won't be allowed liberty until the inspection is complete. Since I understand the lieutenant is extremely thorough, down to maintenance logs since your last port of call, and is currently accessing them, it might be a good idea to get the crew doing a little extra for his colonoscopy. His last inspection of a ship your size took a week,” he warned.

  “Lovely,” Shelby sighed heavily. “Keeping the crew contained that long …,” she shook her head.

  “I know. I realize you've kept your paperwork up. You might want to remember that if they see near perfection they sometimes get suspicious and will go out of their way to find something, anything wrong. Try to keep such antics in stride.”

  “Will do. Thank you, Captain.”

  “Not a problem, Captain. Have a good evening,” the A.I. stated as he cut the circuit.

  Shelby blew out a breath as she sat back. She drummed her fingers on the edge of her desk for a moment as she replayed parts of the conversation in her mind before she finally decided they'd better act. She didn't want to go overboard, but they could at least do a thorough cleaning again and check on some of their worst areas.

  “Ensign Prometheus, let the departments know that the IG inspection tomorrow is going to be deep and thorough,” she said, tapping the button to contact the ship's A.I. “Then get the XO and Bosun to start spot inspections. When word gets around, it should wake people up.”

  “Understood, Captain,” the A.I. replied.

  “I'll be along shortly,” Shelby said as she rose from the chair and went to the head.

  ]][#]]]{OO}===}==>

  Cynthia and the bosun met the Inspector General agent at the lock bright and early at 04:30 on the ship's clock. “Here we go,” the bosun muttered as the lock cycled. To Cynthia's dismay, it was a full team, led by an elf.

  “Commander Troll I presume?” the elf asked. She nodded. The elf made a check on his tablet. “Very well. I've gone over your records. I'll be leading the inspection, but my team will spread out so they do not crowd themselves or the crew. I'd like to start in hydroponics. You did alert the crew that we would be inspecting every compartment? Every nook and cranny?”

  “Yes, we did,” Cynthia replied. She would be damned if she called the little imp, sir. She was a commander; he was a damn lieutenant.

  “Good, good. Well, let us get busy,” the elf said as he moved his little legs out. “This shouldn't take more than a week or two,” he said airily.

  Behind her, Cynthia heard the Bosun groan ever so softly in resignation.

  ]][#]]]{OO}===}==>

  Ensign Prometheus noted the bosun's groan. He also noted that the bosun had decided to send a simple chat line to warn Crewman Able and to let the woman know that she should do something about the ship's still. The A.I.'s emotional modulator signaled amusement over that. He wondered briefly what the lieutenant would do when he was confronted by Lively, the ship's fallow cat.

  As the ship's A.I., he was fairly confident that the inspectors wouldn't find any contraband on board. He was, however, not as confident about the ship's inventory as the inspector began to open every access panel to look inside.

  “Neatness counts here,” the inspector said as he pointed a small stylus to a nest of wiring. “This should have been tidied up better. I see they used zip ties, but this could rattle and wear against something over time. Not good,” the lieutenant said as he made a note on his tiny tablet.

  The A.I. detected an odd sound coming from the XO. He had to switch cameras and audio feeds in the hallway until he could see her face. She seemed to be grinding her teeth.

  ]][#]]]{OO}===}==>

  “They are nickel and diming us to death!” Cynthia complained with a shake of her head. “You went one degree over temp? You realize that can take five minutes off the operational lifetime of the component?” she said in a false nasal whine.

  Shelby grimaced. “The paperwork is in order, right?”

  “Yes. We had plenty of time to keep it up, but that makes them suspicious.”

  Shelby nodded. “Their job is to nitpick, to find slack and to keep excess down. I get that in theory,” she said.

  “Staff. Rear Echelon Mother Frackers who want to be self-important tin gods since they have nothing better to do,” Cynthia said bitterly.

  “Now, now, Number One, you know everyone has a role to play. Theirs is to make sure we stay honest,” she said. Cynthia snorted.

  “You laugh now,” Cynthia accused, shaking a finger at her. “But when they get the micronometer out to measure the paint and count salt grains in a shaker, then you'll rue the day you mocked me.”

  “Mock? I didn't say that,” Shelby said, placing a hand over her heart. “I just know how the process goes. Let them get it out of their system, Trollop; some things have to work that way. We'll take our medicine, be nice, and then they'll be off to ruin someone else's day.”

  “Right,” Cynthia drawled. “It can't happen soon enough for me!”

  ]][#]]]{OO}===}==>

  Once the inspection was complete, the lead IG officer met with Shelby to present his team's findings. Shelby met him in the wardroom. She set her cup of coffee aside to read his transmitted report.

  Privately she also considered the elf. He seemed polite, which was good considering the differences in rank. He didn't seem like a tin god, which was also good. He knew he could make or break careers. He also seemed absolutely obsessed with details on a level of OCD that had dismayed Cynthia and the crew.

  The IG officer was named First Lieutenant Neat and Orderly, which explained a few things she thought as she looked up to him and knitted her fingers together complacentl
y in front of her on the table as she waited his verbal presentation. “Captain Logan, I'd like to thank you for being patient with us,” the officer said. “I am particularly impressed that you have kept your paperwork in order and up-to-date,” he said. “I wish more ship crews were like you. You did a good job keeping up with the paperwork including the inspections and logistics inventories. I can tell you didn't just check them off either.”

  “I know the importance of regular maintenance and inspections,” Shelby replied dryly.

  “Yes, well, you do need to work on a few things. I've made a list,” the elf said.

  “I have your list,” Shelby replied dutifully, nodding and indicating the tablet in front of her.

  “Good. If you adhere to it, you shouldn't have many problems in the future. I do recommend you work on training your people a bit better. Temperature spikes are very harmful to equipment,” Lieutenant Neat and Orderly said.

  Shelby nodded dutifully. “I know.”

  “You know how?” the officer asked suspiciously. “Are you just parroting what I'm saying?”

  “No, I was a chief engineer for several decades,” Shelby replied, placing her elbows on the edge of the table and then resting her chin on her folded hands in front of her. “We can't all be perfect, and there are times such as in combat or under load when temperature spikes happen.”

  “Yes, well, those are best to be avoided. Your ship shouldn't be in combat at all!”

  “I know that. You know that. The enemy has their own say in it unfortunately,” Shelby replied with a shrug. “I've already faced the review board for that action. “Hopefully, it won't happen again. Prometheus isn't a warship,” she said, looking around the wardroom as if in apology.

  “Well,” Lieutenant Neat and Orderly said with a nod.

  “Is there anything else?” Shelby asked politely.