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Authors: Eric Thomson

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"Very well, Able Spacer Vincenzo.  I now advise you that I will proceed with Petty Officer Zavaleta' charges against you.  The Cox'n will deliver a copy of the charge sheets to you within the next twenty-four hours.  In that time, you will decide on an assisting officer and so inform the Cox'n.  Mister Guthren, have Able Spacer Vincenzo examined by the surgeon, and if she declares him fit, have him brought to the brig."

"Sir."  The Cox'n snapped to attention and rattled out a series of orders to the senior of the two escorts.

"Oh, and Cox'n," Siobhan said, as Vincenzo and the bosun's mates turned to march out, "have PO Zavaleta report to the surgeon also."

When the doors closed, Siobhan sat back and looked speculatively at Pushkin, who'd remained silent all the time.

"What do you think, Mister Pushkin?"

The First Officer shrugged, his eyes fixed on the door.  "Vincenzo's been told to stay silent, and he's cooperating.  Normal in cases of informal counselling.  If he accuses Zavaleta of beating him up, Zavaleta' friends and supporters, like the two bosun's mates of the escort, are going to make sure he regrets it.  We're not going to get the truth out of Vincenzo.  He'll take his lumps, and like it."

Siobhan nodded.  It confirmed what she thought.  But it infuriated her because it was damned unfair, and lousy for morale.  Yet if Vincenzo played along with Zavaleta, there was nothing she could do.

"If you'll excuse me, sir," Pushkin rose, "I've still got to see the aft damage control team.  They fucked-up royally during the drill."

Left alone, Siobhan fumed in silence, but she couldn't see a way around Vincenzo's silence and Zavaleta' lies.  When the lower deck decided to keep things to themselves, no officer in the Fleet could pry the truth from their closed ranks.  An hour later, Luttrell called Siobhan, asking for an interview.  She was visibly outraged and it wasn't hard to divine why.

"Sit, Doctor," She watched Luttrell while the surgeon sat down, and waited for her to speak.

"That kid you sent down to be examined -"

"Vincenzo."

"Right.  I hope you're going to give that asshole Zavaleta what he deserves for beating the living shit out of a fucking defenceless rating."  Her voice was trembling with rage.

"Vincenzo admitted that he assaulted Zavaleta, without provocation."  Siobhan kept a flat, unemotional tone.

"Bullshit!"  Luttrell's cheeks turned scarlet.  "I examined both of them.  Zavaleta has a few bruises, nothing to crow about, but Vincenzo?   Hell, the kid's closer to fucking hamburger meat than human.  He's got a mild concussion, three cracked ribs, severe bruising on the legs, torso and face.  Half of his teeth are loose and he's damned lucky he didn't lose an eye.  He sure as shit won't be seeing the inside of the brig for a while,
Captain
!  I've kept him in the sickbay, under observation, and he'll stay there until I say he can go."   The Doctor's blazing eyes challenged Dunmoore to contradict her.

"Not that your opinion will make much difference at Vincenzo's trial," the Captain replied, as calm and emotionless as before, "but how do you think he suffered his injuries?"

"Trial?  You're going to try the kid for having defended himself against that asshole Zavaleta?  And I thought you were different."

"Doctor!  You forget yourself.  If Vincenzo doesn't speak up, there is nothing I can do.  Now  I asked you a question.  Answer me."

"Sure, Captain," her face twisted into a mask of disgust.  "The only way that kid could have sustained those injuries is by being knocked down on the deck and literally having the shit kicked out of him.  He's damned lucky he didn't suffer any internal bleeding.  Oh, and his arms are more bruised than anywhere else, which means he was trying to protect his head and face.  Make of that what you will."

"As I said, Doctor, I cannot do anything unless Vincenzo decides to contradict Zavaleta' story.  Now if there's nothing else, I have pressing matters to attend."

"No, sir," Luttrell spat, "there is nothing else, sir."

"You are dismissed, Doctor."

"You know, Captain," she said standing up, "when you came on board, I naively believed the bullying would be a thing of the past."  The surgeon laughed humourlessly.  "We officers never learn the realities of life, do we?  Under Commander Forenza, I got a steady stream of kids who'd fallen down access tubes, stumbled over thresholds, slipped on a piece of soap in the showers or injured themselves during supposedly consensual sex, and always it was kids working for the Zavaletas on this ship.  Forenza didn't give a damn when I tried to make her see the pattern.  The bullies kept the lower deck quiet, and that's all she cared for.  Hasn't been a beating or a rape since Forenza left the ship.  Until today.  Good bye, Captain."

One step forward, two steps back
, Siobhan thought humourlessly when she was alone again.  Whatever she had gained with the doctor was gone.  It was useless to rail against the unfairness of life, or Admiral Nagira for dropping her into this fucking mess right after the
Victoria Regina
.  This was her problem and she had to solve it.

TEN

"Fuckin' asshole Zavaleta,"  Nosey growled as he, Rownes and Demianova met in a corner of the depressingly austere mess after watch-change.  The mood on the lower decks was ugly, a throwback to the bad old days.

"So," he looked at Demmi, disgust twisting his rodent-like face, "yer precious a-okay Cap'n Dunmoore ain't so fuckin' hot after all.  She's gonna put Vince in the brig, even though the poor bugger only defended himself.  Ain't no justice if you ask me.  Poor fuckin' Vince is all fuckin' beat ta shit, an' Zavaleta is struttin' around like a bleedin' peacock who's just screwed a lady peacock.  I says we takes care of Zavaleta ourselves, 'cause ain't no one else gonna do it."

"Dangerous talk, Bertram," a low voice said from the shadow of a half-height divider.  "Anyone would think you're planning mutiny."

"What do you want, Jallaba?"

"Just a word to the wise, Rownes.  Keep you little buddy here from saying stupid things and it'll be just fine.  Vincenzo didn't want to play ball, and now he's got the fucking bat stuck up his ass."

"More like Zavaleta kicked the living shit out of him to get his jollies,"  Banger replied, eyes narrowed, a dangerous edge to her voice.

"That's not what Vincenzo told the Captain."  Jallaba smirked.  "I was there.  He admitted to the charges.  It's open and shut.  Summary trial's gonna last all of two minutes, then its thirty days in the brig for the little twit.  That's what happens when you fuck around with PO Zavaleta, and you'd do well to remember, Rownes.  The PO don't carry you in his heart these days either."  He laughed softly and walked away.

"Whaddaya think, Banger?"

"I think Vince's been told to shut up and play along, otherwise, thing's 'll be a lot worse for him."

"Would not be the first time on this ship," Demianova growled.  "But that does not solve the problem."

"Bloody hell, Demmi, it looks like your precious Cap'n ain't doin' much to help Vince. Fuckin' Jallaba wouldn't come here pissin' on us if she was wise to Zavaleta."

"Ain't that simple, Nosey,"  Rownes raised her hand to silence Bertram.  "Zavaleta lays the charges, and Vince gets a chance to defend himself.  If he don't, then the Cap'n can't do nothing but work on what the asshole says."

"Then we gotta get Vince to talk!"

"If Zavaleta and his buddies scared Vince into keeping mum, Nosey, d'you think we're gonna get him to speak up?  There's more of them than there is of us, and Vince 'll pay for it, sooner or later."

"So we give up?"  Nosey sounded disgusted.

"No," Rownes replied, a speculative look on her face.  "Tell me, Demmi, you said Dunmoore was all right as Second on the
Sala-Ad-Din
.  D'you think she's gonna listen to a rating who tells her a PO's been counselling another rating, even if no one saw the shit-kicking?  Tell you why I ask, love.  If I go up and tell Dunmoore what we think has happened, and she don't believe me or take me seriously, and Zavaleta still gets away with what he did to Vince, I'm next on the list, and so are you two."

Demianova considered the question seriously.  "I think Captain Dunmoore will listen.  Will she believe,"  the young woman shrugged, "God only knows.  It is a risk."

"Damn right it's a fuckin' risk," Nosey vehemently replied, "but Vince is our buddy, an' I ain't gonna let him go down for something he didn't do."

"Relax, both of you,"  Banger held up both hands.  "I've already made up my mind to tell Lieutenant Devall.  He'll listen, that much I know, and he'll probably believe me.  If it backfires, so what.  At least we'll have tried something.  If it works, then maybe the bullshit 'll be over on this ship and we'll have done everyone a favour.  I'm getting real tired, you know."

From his vantage point in the opposite corner of the mess, Leading Spacer Jallaba watched Rownes leave, determination written large on her broad features.  She didn't spare him a glance, though when Jallaba's eyes drifted towards her table, he saw Bertram and Demianova look at him with open hostility.

The bosun's mate briefly wondered whether he should warn Zavaleta there was trouble in the air, then shrugged, deciding Rownes and her friends didn't have the guts to run to the officers with their stories.  No one had done so before, and every rating knew that it was still damned dangerous to do so now.  A starship had a lot of dark corners and dangerous places where a body could lose her step and take a long fall onto a waiting fist.

 

The door chimes interrupted Siobhan as she and Pushkin were planning the training schedule for the next week.  She looked up, a flash of irritation crossing her eyes.  Dunmoore's meeting with Luttrell had soured her temper further and even Pushkin was treading carefully.

"Come."

Lieutenant Devall stepped in and came to attention, as precise as a cadet.  "Pardon the intrusion, sir, but I have some new information relating to the incident involving Able Spacer Vincenzo."

Siobhan looked at the Gunnery Officer with raised eyebrows, surprised that the aloof aristocrat cared about a simple rating, especially one who wasn't in his division.  Her irritation vanished in a flash.

"Speak, Mister Devall."

"Sir.  One of my gun captains has brought information to my attention which might shed some light on the events during the battle stations drill.  She overheard PO Zavaleta threaten Spacer Vincenzo with counselling."

Devall spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, but the interest in his deep blue eyes was unmistakable.  Siobhan leaned forward and steepled her gloved fingers under her chin, ignoring the sudden roiling of acid in her stomach.

"This gun captain, is she reliable?"

"Aye, sir.  Leading Spacer Rownes is in charge of the Number Two portside one-oh-fives, and her performance has always been beyond reproach.  I consider her one of my best."

Siobhan didn't immediately reply.  She didn't know the Gunnery Officer well yet, and couldn't judge what he considered beyond reproach, not in this ship.

"What's her background?"

"Leading Spacer Rownes was a merchant gunner before the war.  She was drafted when her ship became a casualty, and after Fleet School, was assigned to the
Stingray
.  Her gun crew is well-trained and she has never caused a disciplinary problem.  I consider her fit for promotion to Petty Officer Third Class."

Siobhan thought for a moment, trying to remember the gun crews she'd seen during her inspection at General Quarters.

"Is she a big boned woman, older than the rest?"

"Aye, sir.  Nicknamed Banger."  Devall seemed both pleased and impressed that Dunmoore could remember a junior rating after only a short time aboard.

"Yes."  Siobhan nodded.  She could see the Number Two portside one-oh-five turret in her mind's eye.  Whatever else might be wrong with her, Siobhan's memory retained its  voracious efficiency.  Rownes' gun crew had indeed been in better shape than most.  "Have Leading Spacer Rownes report to me soonest."

"Sir." Devall did a smart about-turn and left.

Siobhan glanced at her First Officer, a smile playing on her thin lips.  "Well, Mister Pushkin, maybe we have a solution to our problem after all.  What do you think?"

"Don't know, sir.  Unless she saw the incident, hearing a PO threaten a rating with counselling doesn't amount to much at a summary trial."

"We shall see."  Siobhan's fertile mind was already toying with an idea.  If it worked, she would make some progress towards resolving the morale problem.

"Sir,"  Lieutenant Devall reported a few minutes later, "Leading Spacer Rownes."

A burly, broad-faced woman wearing a clean but well-worn uniform marched into the room and stopped at attention three paces in front of the desk.  She saluted crisply.

"Leading Spacer Yvonne Rownes reporting to the Captain as ordered."

"At ease, Spacer."

Rownes relaxed and adopted the 'at ease' position, rather than the more formal  'parade rest'.  Her eyes dropped down and met Siobhan's with undisguised interest.  The two women examined each other in silence for a few moments, and Dunmoore found herself in the interesting position of being evaluated by a rating.  Rownes exuded an almost palpable aura of self-confidence.  She could well imagine that the other woman had weathered Forenza's period of command with her self-respect and sense of duty intact.

"You have information relating to the incident involving Able Spacer Vincenzo, Rownes?"

"Aye, sir.  Me and Able Spacer Vincenzo are mates," Banger said, establishing her interest in the matter up front.  Siobhan nodded, understanding.  The simple gesture seemed to satisfy the rating and she continued, in a more forceful tone.  "We and two other of my mates were finishing lunch just before eight bells when PO Zavaleta came into the mess and told us to get a move-on.  Then he told Vincenzo that no matter what he did, he'd be reported as late on duty, and Zavaleta would take care of him personally, with a bit of counselling."

Siobhan didn't speak, but her eyes held Rownes'.

"Then," Banger continued, "when Vincenzo left the mess, Zavaleta gave him an all mighty shove and promised him a little talk.  Oh, and he also called Vincenzo a grease-ball."  Rownes fell silent, watching the Captain for a reaction.

Siobhan sat back, studying the other woman.  "Tell me," she finally said, "how do you think this will help Able Spacer Vincenzo?  You did not witness the incident.  All you saw was a Petty Officer going about his duty."

Rownes' face tightened and she stiffened into the parade rest position, her eyes snapping up to stare over Siobhan's head.

"I'm sorry to have bothered you, sir."  She spat out, anger working her jaw muscles.

"At ease, Spacer," Siobhan snapped, standing-up so that their heads were level.  She caught Banger's stare and held it, reading resentment and contempt in the ratings eyes.

"What I need to know about this business is the truth."  Siobhan's tone was harsh and biting.  "So far, all I have is PO Zavaleta' declaration, your words hinting at friction between a non-com and a rating, and Vincenzo recognizing the veracity of the charges.  With this information, all I can do is proceed with a summary trial.  Now do you, or don't you have something that changes the circumstances of the incident?"

"The truth, sir?"  Rownes replied bitterly.  Behind Banger, Pushkin stiffened, ready to reprimand her for her insolent tone.  Siobhan shook her head minutely, stilling the words forming in the First Officer's mouth.

"Yes, the bloody truth, Spacer.  Something that seems to be in short supply aboard the
Stingray
."

"The truth, sir, is that Zavaleta is a fucking bully who's been beating the living shit out of a lot of people.  And he ain't the only one doing it.  Vincenzo's been his scapegoat ever since you came aboard, 'cause he wants to do his duty right and Zavaleta wants to do what he's always done. Now, Vince is fucking scared shitless to tell anyone, 'cause he'll just get the crap kicked out of him again.  That's the way it's been on this ship for a long time, and it ain't gonna change any time soon."

Unless Captain Dunmoore does something about it, Siobhan thought, understanding Rownes' unspoken words.  The Captain nodded.

"Fine, Spacer.  Strange as it may seem to you, I have no problems believing you."

Rownes started in surprise and looked searchingly at Dunmoore.  A flash of hope crossed her face before she slipped back into naval formality.

"You and Vincenzo are mates, right?  Well then, the best thing you can do for your mate is convince him to tell the real story.  As for whatever lower deck consequences that may bring, I think it's past time this ship was cleaned up."

Rownes looked uncertain.  "It'll be difficult, sir.  Vince is scared, and to tell you the truth, so's everybody else."  Then, resolution wiped the uncertainty away.  There was something in Dunmoore's manner that showed the new Captain meant business, and Banger desperately wanted to believe she'd make things right again.  "I'll try, sir.  The crap has got to stop."

"You do that, and report any problems to the Cox'n or Mister Pushkin."

"Aye, aye, sir."

"Dismissed."

"Mister Pushkin, ask the Cox'n to join us.  We have a few things to discuss."

 

The sickbay was empty when Banger stepped in.  Doc Luttrell was off-watch, and the duty medic was cleaning out the operating theatre, whistling as he worked.  Vince lay on one of beds, his face a mass of bruises.  The monitor above the bed showed no immediate danger, but Rownes' gut clenched at the sight of her friend.

Gently, the gunner sat down on the neighbouring bed and looked at Vincenzo, struggling to contain her rage.  He must have sensed somebody's presence, even in his sleep, and his one good eye opened.

"Hey, Banger,"  he whispered, "what's happening."

"Lots, kid.  Zavaleta really gave you a beating, didn't he?"

Vince tried to shrug, grimacing in pain.  "Shit happens, eh."

"Not this kind of shit, Vince.  I've been to see the Captain, and told her Zavaleta' been on your case for a while, and that I think you got beat up by the bastard just for the hell of it."

"Aw,"  Vince coughed painfully, "why do you go do a thing like that?  Now Zavaleta is going to go crazy."

BOOK: No Honor in Death
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