No Honor in Death by Eric Thomson Read Free Book Online

given command of the Stingray and my brief is to get her back into the war, notwithstanding anything that may have happened up to the moment I stepped aboard.  This ship will sail for the line in one week.  I am prepared to do what I must to make this happen.  You, the First Officer, will be part of the solution, or you will find other employment.  Understood?"
    Face tight, Pushkin replied, "Aye aye, sir."
    "I wish to speak with all the officers in the wardroom, which had better be clean by now, in half an hour."
    "Aye, aye, sir.  Will that be all?"
    "For now, Mister Pushkin.  Dismissed."
    He saluted Dunmoore with stiff precision, eyes filled with anger and humiliation.  When he was gone, she sighed and slumped back in her chair, massaging her temples.  The interview had gone as badly as she had feared.  Though he deserved her anger, he was also, until she relieved him, her right hand, the man who would turn her orders into action.  One thing was clear by now.  This was the unhappiest ship she had ever seen.  Siobhan touched her desk terminal's screen.
    "Computer, access authorization Dunmoore, Captain's logs for the last six months."
    "The Captain's logs are unavailable," the computer's soothing, plain voice replied.
    "Why?"
    "Under Article 115.1, the Captain's logs have been impounded by the Disciplinary Board, pending resolution of charges against Commander Forenza."
    "Damn!"
    "Please rephrase the question."
    "Disregard," Siobhan smiled briefly at the computer's mistake. "Display ship's logs for the last cruise."
    "Under Article 115.1, the ship's logs have been impounded by the Disciplinary Board, pending resolution of charges against Commander Forenza."
    In frustration, Siobhan hit the keypad, switching the terminal off.  If the Forenza family still had as many connections within the Navy, those logs would vanish forever, no matter the outcome of Helen Forenza's hearing.  The only way she would discover why her ship was in such a lousy state and why the crew's morale and pride were in tatters was through her crew.
    Siobhan got up, intending to work off her frustration by pacing the small cabin, but she forgot her migraine.  She reached the toilet just in time.
    In her misery, she didn't hear the first ring of the door chimes.  When the sound finally registered, she climbed to her feet and glanced at herself in the mirror.  If she had looked bad this morning, she looked ghastly now.  Quickly rinsing out her mouth with water, she adjusted her uniform and returned to her desk.
    "Come."
    The hatch whispered open and a thick-set slab of a man stepped in.  His close-cropped blond hair contrasted neatly with the short grey beard surrounding a battered, homely face.  Intelligent, pale brown eyes shone under thick brows, framing a flattened nose.   His shipboard uniform was clean and well-pressed, but the short tunic strained over a muscular chest.    The sleeves of the tunic bore the starburst and crossed anchors of a Chief Petty Officer Second Class.  Five years had wrought many changes on the man, but his coarse features still registered the smug satisfaction Siobhan knew so well.  She rose, a smile breaking through her gloom.
    There is a God after all.
    "Cox'n reporting to the Captain as ordered, sir," Chief Guthren saluted, a tentative grin emerging from the beard.
    "It's been a long time, Chief."  Siobhan felt unexpected warmth in the pit of her stomach. Five years and a whole lifetime ago, a younger woman, not yet worn out by strain and fatigue, had taken command of a small scout ship.  The powers that had decreed a maverick Lieutenant named Siobhan Dunmoore would take her first step up the ladder of command had also given her a senior petty officer under a suspended threat of court-martial as Cox'n.  Guthren.
    "Aye," Guthren relaxed, smiling with genuine affection now, "a long time.  You're looking well, skipper.  An' your stripes suit you.  Not before time, either."
    "Still a silver-tongued