Valor At Vauzlee (41 page)

"You forget, Steven," Gavin said, "that Carver, essentially,
is
only an acting captain. I appointed her as captain, under my authority as the senior officer at Vauzlee, and subject to the provisions of battlefield appointments and promotions, but she won't be permitted to retain command once we reach Earth. Only a Space Command officer holding the rank of captain can be named as the permanent commanding officer of a heavy cruiser."

Captain Powers chuckled. "You're right, Larry. I did forget that for a moment amid all this talk of her tactics, actions, and heroics."

"From everything I've heard and witnessed," Captain Simpson said, "I expect that if Commander Carver remains in the service, she might well become the youngest officer, by a wide margin, ever to attain the rank of Captain and command a ship of the line."

* * *

"Thank you, Eddie," CPO Filip ‘Flip' Byrne said gleefully as he joined the other chiefs at the card table and took his seat. "Thank you, thank you,
thank you
."

Chief Edward Lindsey finished dealing the first hand and looked up from his cards with narrowed eyes before saying, "For what?"

"For wishing that Commander Carver be replaced on board this ship as acting XO."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your wish was granted. She was sent over to the Song."

"I thought that you liked her?"

"You mean you haven't heard?"

"Heard what?"

"Commandeer Carver is being officially commended for saving Higgins."

"What? She wasn't even at the battle. How can they credit her with saving the station?
We
were the ones getting our asses shot off out here."

"While we were getting our asses shot off over here, she was four FTL minutes away, engaged in solo combat with the largest battleship ever
seen
in Galactic Alliance space; perhaps the largest battleship ever conceived. A reclamation vessel just dragged the hulk in and put it in the scrap farm with the rest of the Raider trash. You should see that thing, it's gigantic. It makes the other ship hulks in the farm look like minor detritus. It's at least a thousand-meters longer than the Prometheus."

"A thousand-meters
longer
? What was she doing fighting a super dreadnaught solo with just a cruiser?"

"Her job, Eddie. And it wasn't just a super dreadnaught; it was the command ship for the Raider attack forces. After Carver destroyed it, the Raiders got spooked and bugged out. End of battle. If the Commander hadn't been assigned to the Song, she wouldn't have been out there to save our asses. So thank you, thank you, thank you."

"Who says that the battleship was the command ship?"

"Everybody— including Admiral Holt. He personally wrote the commendation for the Commander."

"This is genuine? Not some made up bull?"

"It's the God's honest truth. Commander Carver saved all our asses."

"Damn."

"Is that all you've got to say? You still believe she doesn't deserve the full measure of your respect?"

"Well—," Chief Lindsey said a bit sheepishly, "Damn, Flip, maybe she does walk on water."

~ June 19
^th
, 2268 ~

Departure was scheduled for 0130. The Song was the second ship to go to FTL, after the Prometheus. Once underway and the ship had settled into Light-262, the established task force speed, Jenetta turned the bridge over to Lieutenant Elizi and walked to her quarters to get some sleep. The slower speed of the task force would add a month to the normal travel time of either the Prometheus or Chiron.

Jenetta hadn't been able to get together with Commander Spence during the few days that she'd had at the station after being recalled from picket duty because he was still down on Vinnia. He'd been evacuated to an unoccupied industrial complex on the surface of the planet with other non-essential personnel before the Raider force had arrived. Given the amount of damage to the station, it might be months before the evacuees were recalled. Enormous areas would necessarily remain sealed off until repairs were completed. Nor could Jenetta travel down to the planet to visit him. The station was still on an elevated alert level, although downgraded from War Ready, and ship commanders were barred from taking personal leave. At least Jenetta had been able to speak with him via com signal several times during the past week.

At 1000 hours the first morning following their departure, Jenetta was on the bridge when the com operator said, "Captain, you have a call from Commander Kanes aboard the Prometheus."

"I'll take it in my briefing room."

"Aye, Captain."

Jenetta walked into her briefing room, placed her coffee mug on the desk, and took her seat before raising the viewscreen panel on the com system.

"Good morning, Commander Kanes," Jenetta said as his face filled the image area of the com screen.

"Good morning, Commander. I've received your— little present. I understand that it arrived just minutes before we departed Higgins."

"I hope you liked it, sir. I've been saving it in a cold storage locker until it could be delivered. I'm sorry I didn't have time to wrap it properly, but the sentiment is sincere."

Kanes wrinkled his brow at this display of black humor, but realized that he had prompted it by using the phrase ‘little present.' His occupation required him to understand people and motives, and he knew that her forwarding of the body to him was her way of saying,
‘I told you so,
' without appearing insubordinate by actually coming out and
saying
‘I told you so,' to a superior officer. At first he'd been a bit miffed, but then realized that her assessment of Pretorious had been more accurate than his own and that perhaps he even deserved the silent rebuke.

"I was more than a little surprised by the events that transpired," he said. "I thought that I had seen the last of Pretorious. I'm delighted that the bastard was such a damned poor shot."

"A broken neck does tend to spoil your aim, sir. He apparently had trouble with goodbyes and just couldn't leave without visiting me one last time."

"How is your wound?"

"Pretorious was incapacitated so quickly that he released the trigger almost immediately after squeezing it, so he didn't have a chance to sweep it across my torso. The healing qualities I received as a result of the DNA modifications have mended the damage and left no sign that I was even wounded. I'm completely healthy again."

"That's good news. I, uh, understand that Admiral Holt has forwarded a medal recommendation in your behalf."

"A medal? For killing Pretorious?"

"For your actions and leadership at Vauzlee, and then at the Battle for Higgins. I know for a fact that he's been
very
impressed with you. Why do you think he's letting you skipper the Song back to Earth?"

"He said that he was short of qualified officers."

"Not so short that a full commander couldn't have been found. Commander Harlan Acklee, of the Calgary, was still available. He was the officer designated to take command of the Song if you'd arrived before the engagement with the Raiders. You're still in command there because of the superior job you've done over the past few months. Receiving a battlefield appointment from Captain Gavin, an appointment endorsed by and then extended by Admiral Holt, is going to look
very, very
good on your record the next time you come up for review by the promotions board."

Jenetta sighed silently, uncomfortable for not realizing that. "Yes sir. I expect you're right."

"Being right is my business. I'm just sorry that I wasn't as right about Pretorious as you were. I thought he was more interested in freedom than petty revenge."

"There was nothing petty about it, sir. Oh, it started out that way. Pretorious did come aboard with a plan to assassinate me, but if not for the million credit bounty placed on my head by the Raider hierarchy he might have left when he found how difficult it is to get at the ship's captain aboard a Space Command vessel. The bounty made the risk acceptable, in his mind."

"There's a million credit bounty on your head? That changes the situation considerably. Now I can understand his taking the risk. You never mentioned the bounty."

"I didn't want it to color anyone's behavior towards me. I'll take certain precautions, but I won't let it affect my life to the point where I'm afraid to show my face. While I'm ensconced within the Space Command sphere of influence, I'm as safe as anyone could be without surrendering any of her personal freedoms. Pretorious was the exception, not the rule. I won't mourn his passing, and I doubt that anyone else will. I'm just happy he wanted to gloat, instead of shooting me immediately. It gave me a chance to spoil his plans."

"And no one can ever say you squander your chances, Commander. That's one of the things that has consistently intrigued me. Your Academy record states you have trouble making decisions. It says that you hesitate much too long when confronted by difficult choices. Although your command simulation scores were among the lowest in the class, you've changed into someone that makes split-second decisions, and then acts with speed and purpose?"

"Sir, there's a world of difference between pretending you're in command during a lab exercise, however realistic, and actually being in command during a life and death situation."

"The normal line of reasoning is that people become
more
indecisive when faced with life and death situations simply
because
of the possible consequences."

"Perhaps for some. But when I was confronted by my own mortality, I knew that hesitation meant death. At the Academy I was mainly worried about my grades, or about being embarrassed in front of my classmates if I made a wrong decision. Out here, my life and those of my crews have been on the line. I didn't have time to worry about how some professor or review board was going to grade me on every move, utterance, or simple gesture I made, or what someone was going to think about me afterwards, so I didn't try to analyze every situation fifty different ways. I went with my instincts, only being concerned with whether we were going to be alive or dead at the end of the day. The old me is gone now. Since being found in the escape pod, I've looked upon this as my second life— or perhaps my third after my enslavement at the hands of the Raiders."

"After seeing your grades, I was astonished that the SCI recruiters let you slip through their fingers while you were at the Academy. Your math and science scores were consistently at the top of the class. That's the fertile ground they like to till."

"They may have felt my indecision would be too much of a handicap. Recruitment efforts probably wouldn't have done much good anyway; I've never wanted anything except to be aboard a ship in space."

"What is it— the excitement— the danger— the unknown?"

"All of those things, I guess," Jenetta said casually.

"You'd have the same things, working in my intelligence section."

"It just wouldn't be the same. I'm happy where I am, Commander. Thank you for the offer, though."

"Okay, Commander. If you change your mind, you always know how to get in touch with me at Higgins."

"Yes sir."

"I'll see you at the ceremony on Earth. Have a safe trip, Commander."

"You too, sir."

As the image of Kanes winked out on the com, Jenetta sat back in her chair and thought about the offer. She knew that her face was too well known to allow her the freedom to move around the way an intelligence officer has to. That meant she would be stuck behind a desk doing analysis work, which didn't interest her at all right now. Perhaps in a year or so, as people forgot about Jenetta Carver and what she looked like, the situation might change.

* * *

"Does anyone wish to review the presentation again?" Admiral Moore asked of the admirals seated around the table in the Admiralty Board Meeting Hall. They had just finished watching the special holographic vid prepared by the War College from the logs of all the ships involved in the Battle for Higgins. The logs had been individually viewed by the Board soon after the action, but the special presentation vid, with included charts and a holo-graphic representation, gave a substantially better overall perspective of the event without influencing any particular viewpoint.

"I certainly don't," Admiral Platt said. "I've screened all the ship logs so many times that I can't stand to watch the deaths of our people and the destruction of our ships again."

"I feel the same," Admiral Bradlee said. "I think we all understand exactly what took place at Higgins. Our people did an incredible job against an enemy force of vastly superior strength, but there's no doubt in my mind that Lt. Commander Carver ultimately saved the station from certain destruction when she destroyed the Raider battleship Glorious commanded by Raider Admiral Nazeer."

"I don't wish to see it again, either," Admiral Hubera said. "And I am sick of hearing about Carver. It's always Carver did this, Carver did that, or Carver did that other thing. There were more than eight thousand other brave Space Command officers, noncoms, and ratings at the Battle for Higgins. Two-thousand, three-hundred-fourteen, a full quarter of our fighting forces there, won't be returning. But all we seem to do is talk about one little girl; one lone, inexperienced officer who acts more like a loose cannon than a disciplined officer. Approving that court-martial was the single biggest mistake this board has ever made. It turned Carver into some kind of super hero to Space Command and Space Marine personnel alike, not to mention the public at large. Now, whenever anything happens, the first thoughts in anyone's mind are: Where was Carver when this happened? What did Carver do? How did Carver save us this time? I tell you, I'm sick to death about hearing about Jenetta Carver. I'm sick to death about seeing her face on every holo-magazine cover. I'm sick to death of seeing her face on every vid news broadcast. I'm sick to death about being questioned about her by the newsies. And most of all, I'm sick to death about talking about her in this chamber."