The Clones of Mawcett (4 page)

“I think you're mistaken there, Jen,” Gavin said. “You're the first Terran military officer ever to be honored by the Nordakian government. And since you're being awarded their highest military honor, it's no small matter. I suspect that every news agency in the GA will be represented there, or they'll be getting a feed from a news service on the planet.”

Jenetta sighed. “Yes sir; that's probably true.”

“Is your wound completely healed?” LaSalle asked.

At first mention of the injury, Jenetta's left hand moved involuntarily to her abdomen, fell again to her side. “Yes ma'am; I'm completely fit for duty. There's not even a scar to show where I was shot.”

“Following the official launching ceremony tomorrow, a Galactic Alliance delegation will be coming aboard ship,” Gavin said. “They'll accompany us to Nordakia for the medal ceremony. As one of our senior officers, you'll be required to have dinner with the delegates some evenings. Since this trip is being made to honor you, better plan on at least four nights a week.”

Jenetta grimaced, only slightly, but Gavin noticed the almost imperceptible change in her expression.

“I know,” he said. “The thought of entertaining a group of politicians for five months doesn't appeal to me either, but it's part of the duty of a senior officer. Better get used to it, Jen, because entertaining dignitaries gets worse as you move up in rank. I'll probably be dining with them every single night. Commander LaSalle is fortunate because she has the second watch, but she'll have more than her fair share of luncheons.”

“Yes sir,” Jenetta said. "It's just that I've been attending PR and recruitment events for months. I'd hoped that I could stand down for a while. Don't worry, sir, I'll bear up.

Gavin grinned. “Good. You'll have the third watch from now on. Dismissed, Commander.”

“Yes sir. Thank you, sir.” Turning to Commander LaSalle, she said, “See you at 2400 hours, Commander.” After LaSalle nodded, Jenetta turned and left the bridge.

After changing into her sweats, Jenetta hurried to the gym to work out for a couple of hours, then returned to her quarters to take a shower and get some sleep since she'd be up all night while on watch. Regulations required that the bridge be fully manned 24/7, even when the ship was docked at an Earth spaceport.

* * *

Jenetta dressed, quickly brushed her collar-length blond hair, and was on her way to the amidship officer's mess within twenty minutes of waking. The wonderful food aromas wafting about the room almost completely overcame the lingering odors of paint, adhesives, and new materials used in the recent reconstruction work in this area. Since almost ninety percent of the present crew had come aboard the Prometheus after Jenetta left to take command of the Song, there were few faces that she recognized as she entered and quickly scanned the dozen and a half tables in the spotlessly-clean dining room. She'd been the acting first officer for only one month during the new ship's voyage to Earth for the commissioning ceremony, so she'd had little time or opportunity to develop close, personal relationships with the few officers she did recognize.

As she moved through the brightly-lit mess hall towards the serving counters, Jenetta nodded and smiled at the officers with whom she made eye contact. Taking two trays from the rack, she walked along the food line, selecting items that appealed to her from the variety available on the gleaming stainless steel counters and clear polycarbonate shelves. As she carried the two overflowing trays to an empty table, a few people stared openly. It had been some time since she'd had to consider what others might think of her out of control appetite. As captain on the Song, she'd had a private dining room, so she could eat her normal three full helpings of food without curious minds wondering where she put it all and how she remained so fit.

Just as she dipped a spoon into her first bowl of soup, she heard, “Is this seat available, Commander?”

The grinning face of Lieutenant Donald Kerrey greeted Jenetta as she looked up. At five-foot eight-inches, with dark, curly hair and chestnut colored eyes, Kerrey was a familiar figure. He'd served as acting second officer under Jenetta during her brief former posting aboard the Prometheus.

“Hello, Lieutenant. Please, sit down. I'm not expecting anyone.”

Kerrey placed his tray on the table and sat down across from her. Looking directly into her bright, azure eyes, he said, “I wasn't entirely sure it was you when I first spotted you, Commander. You look so different. But those two pips on your collar told me it had to be you.”

“My body is still changing as a result of the DNA modifications that the Raiders performed on me while I was their prisoner. When I entered the Academy, my appearance was extremely similar to that of my five-foot one-inch mother, even though I was three inches taller. Our faces are still somewhat similar, and you can see the genetic relationship, but my appearance has definitely changed, and I've grown almost six inches in height. I'm a couple of inches taller than you now.”

“Those aren't the only things different about you,” Kerrey said, flicking his eyes downward for only a millisecond.

Jenetta sighed, grimaced, and said, "Yes, my chest has grown quite a bit also. It's a lot more uncomfortable when I exercise, and some people tend to be rather distracted by it.

“You can always have them reduced through surgery,” Kerrey offered.

“The doctors tell me that I shouldn't attempt that until my body stops changing, but it'll be eight to ten years before all the cells in my body are completely rewritten. It's also been suggested that perhaps my body won't allow it to remain altered. My altered DNA immediately begins to 'repair' any changes to the new genetic 'blueprint'. I guess time will tell. I just wish I wasn't so darn hungry all the time. Perhaps once I finish growing…”

 Kerrey glanced down at the two food trays and nodded in understanding if not total sympathy. Many adults would love to be able to eat everything they desired without worrying about packing on extra pounds. “I missed you following our battle with the Raiders at Vauzlee. The Captain brought a Commander over from the destroyer Asuncion to replace you here as acting first officer after he appointed you captain of the Song.”

“Really? How long after I departed?”

“Almost right away. Commander Ashe arrived on the afternoon following the battle, just several hours after you reported that you had the situation under control over there, and that the Song would be able to travel to Earth under its own power. At first, the guy was pleased as could be at being appointed acting first on the Prometheus. That was entirely understandable. But once he learned that you, a mere Lieutenant Commander, and a recently promoted one at that, had been posted as captain of a GSC heavy cruiser, he never stopped grousing about it. He kept offering to take over for you.” Kerrey chuckled. “The Captain finally came right out and told Ashe, on the bridge— in front of the entire watch— that if he wasn't happy onboard the Prometheus, the Captain would arrange for his immediate return to the Asuncion. I don't think he ever again suggested that he replace you on the Song, but he never stopped grumbling about it. I believe the Captain missed you all the more because of it, and I'm sure that he was really glad to see that guy return to his own ship after we reached Mars. I know I was. Ya know, I'd use John for a first name instead of Jack, if I had his last name. I'm sure I don't have to tell you the nickname the crew had for him. I'd love to see the captain's evaluation of his performance while he was aboard. I'd bet anything that 'pestiferous' is in there somewhere. I'll give ten to one odds that he retires still a commander.”

Including the word 'pestiferous' anywhere in a performance evaluation, even in a seemly innocuous sentence that appears to praise the officer, could be the kiss-of-death to a career in Space Command. Every bureaucratic and military organization has certain 'code words' to warn others about a problem without really saying something directly. The officer's present commanding officer would have to write an especially glowing recommendation to erase the stigma if Gavin had really used the word in a performance evaluation.

Jenetta grinned. “It's funny. He was desperately trying to get to the Song, and I was wishing I was on the Prometheus.”

“Seriously? Were things that bad on the Song?”

“No, no, it wasn't bad at all. The crew was fantastic and things really came together once I made the temporary appointments to replace the bridge crew killed during the battle. It's just that I think of the Prometheus as my ship. I know every square meter of him and I've been in love with him since I first laid eyes on him. I think that I'd rather be the second officer of this ship than the captain of most others. That's certainly not a reflection on their crews.”

Kerrey, looking relieved, smiled. “I'm glad that's all it was. I have a couple of friends on the Song and they've told me how delighted they were to have a chance to serve under you.”

“I was really touched that most of the officers turned out to say goodbye when Captain Yung relieved me and I left the ship.”

“My friends say they were genuinely sorry to see you go, but they knew all along that you wouldn't be appointed as permanent captain of a heavy cruiser since you only hold the rank of Lt. Commander. They were happy to serve under you for as long as they did.”

“How have things been going for you, Don?”

“Fine, ma'am. It was great being the acting second officer for a while, but it felt almost like a demotion when I had to resume my duties as helmsman once we'd reached Mars and the new crew reported aboard. Now that we're fully staffed, I don't expect to have an opportunity to be a watch commander again for a while.” Lowering his voice to communicate a confidence, he said, “And there are so many new faces on board that I feel a little out of place. I was delighted to spot you here when I came in. We old timers have to stick together.”

Jenetta smiled at being called an 'old timer.' While true that she was chronologically thirty-four-years-old, the DNA recombinant and Age Prolongation processes performed on her while a prisoner of the Raiders had kept her looking like a academy cadet. Kerrey, at just thirty, didn't look much like an old-timer either.

“I'm delighted that you joined me for dinner,” Jenetta said. “I was feeling a little detached myself among this sea of new faces. What watch have you drawn?”

“Third watch, with you.”

Jenetta let her face register the surprise she felt at hearing this news. “Based on your seniority I would have expected you to get the first watch, or the second watch at the very least.”

“I was assigned to the second watch, but I requested a change to the third.”

“Why? Third watch is generally avoided whenever possible.”

“Because of you, Commander. I've felt much more, uh, comfortable under your command than with Commander LaSalle on second watch.”

“Have you had a run-in with her, Don?” Jenetta asked, trying to keep any hint of accusation out of her voice.

“No ma'am, honest; I haven't had a direct problem with her. She just, I don't know, makes me feel— uneasy. I guess it might be the way she always talks down to everyone when the Captain isn't around. I've worked for you in the past and I've always felt honored to be under your command. Also, you've had several ship commands, so I know that you know what you're doing.”

Kerrey hadn't directly said that he felt Commander LaSalle didn't know what she was doing, but it seemed the implication was there. Jenetta would never ask him to clarify the ambiguity because it might put both of them on the spot; him for criticizing a superior officer, if that's what he intended, and her for hearing it and not reporting him for insubordination. He'd been careful while relating the situation with Commander Ashe not to make any direct, personal observations about the Commander's abilities.

“Okay, Don,” Jenetta said smiling, “welcome to my watch. I guess that we'll be spending a lot of nights together. Just you— and me— and ten other crewmembers.”

As was her habit, Jenetta arrived on the bridge ten minutes before her watch was due to start. She immediately noticed how deathly quiet it appeared. The dozen crewmembers there were performing their duties in absolute silence. Near the very end of the watch, whether in port or when traveling FTL, crewmembers frequently talk openly, albeit in lowered tone, as they discuss plans for their off duty time. LaSalle, sitting in the command chair, motioned Jenetta over to her side. She approached and came to attention.