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J. Joseph

Promotion


“Captain, report to the bridge.” The announcement came over the speakers of the ship. Lying on a chaise in the observation deck, Nina Soler groaned. The Iratus was still in a space dock, for retrofits to their weaponry. She also knew they’d be remaining docked to the station for another two standard days. That meant she was supposed to be able to relax for two more days. Slowly standing up, Nina keyed her comms unit, direct to the bridge. “Bridge, this is Captain Soler. En route. Over.”

Slowly and confidently, she made her way through the maze of corridors that made up her ship’s interior. The Iratus would probably get replaced in the next couple of years, but until then Nina could move through her ship faster than pretty much anyone besides maintenance crews. After all, she basically lived on the ship during shore-leaves and wanted to be certain she could get everywhere on the ship quickly. In no time at all, Nina entered her bridge.

Other than the communications officer on duty, the bridge was empty. That, Nina supposed, was a good thing, considering she was only in her more casual, combat uniform, rather than the crisp, official one she wore to inspire dedication and tidiness in her crew. With a brisk nod to Communications Lieutenant Margorie Phillips, Nina asked, “What is the issue, Lieutenant Phillips?”

Margorie nodded in return. “Urgent call from Admiral Jefferson, Captain Soler,” she stated.

Nina forced a smile. “Throw him on the screen,” she said. After a moment, the aged face of Admiral Devon Jefferson spread across the bridges massive viewscreen. “Sir,” Nina told her superior, “I apologize for my appearance, I was not expecting a call.”

“There is nothing for which to apologize, Captain,” Admiral Jefferson stated, “I was calling to discuss the recent leak that you managed to plug.”

Nina held back her grimace, the cordial smile overpowering it. Of course, that was why someone so high up was calling her, she thought, because there was some problem with how she’d proceeded. It had only been a couple of weeks since she’d found the leak and reported it up the chain. Albert still hadn’t forgiven her yet. He’d come around, he always did when she betrayed his trust or lied to him, just like she did when he was the betrayer or liar. It was just a matter of time. With a nod of the head, she replied to the Admiral, “What about the leak, Admiral?”

“No need to be so worried, Captain,” the admiral placated, “This isn’t a bad call.” That revelation took Nina by surprise, but much like the grimace, her cordial and professional smile held the surprise at bay. The admiral, seeing no reaction coming from the captain, continued, “The leak you found turned out to be much bigger than we expected. Lieutenant Orson wasn’t just reporting valuable targets to criminals, he was leaking information about our research stations to Hadrian. Finding him has decreased the number of information raids from Hadrian by sixty-three percent. The Admiralty is pleased.”

Nina shook her head. “I was just doing my job,” she stated.

The admiral smiled. “And that is exactly the attitude that people like about you.”

Nina furrowed her brow at the man. “What do you mean?” she asked. That sort of phrase always held a lot of implications, especially considering hardly anyone actually liked Nina’s attitude. She was abrasive, formal, efficient, and professional, with few exceptions only where friends were involved.

“Rear Admiral Timothy has put you in for a promotion to Commodore. When the Iratus is decommissioned, your new commission will be put at the head of a patrol flotilla.”

“Thank you, sir,” Nina lied, “It is an honor.” The commandant hung up. Nina knew well this wasn’t an honor. Rear Admiral Bryon Timothy hated her with a passion. He was promoting her to what was pretty much as close to a desk job as could be achieved from her position. A patrol flotilla meant no real combat ops, because pirates don’t mess with more than lone ships and she wouldn’t be leaving the same single shipping route until she got promoted. Which wouldn’t be able to happen if she was stuck patrolling the same shipping route. She needed to vent. Turning to Margorie, she nodded one more time. “Keep me appraised. I’ll be in the Lounge. Do not send for me if it isn’t necessary and urgent.”

Margorie nodded in return. “Yessir,” she said as she turned back to her console.

Nina turned on her heel and walked out of the bridge. The lounge was one level down, near the middle of the ship. For most people, that would mean heading all the way to the elevators at the back, taking them down, then looping back around to the lounge. However, Nina knew that there was a maintenance shaft connecting the false wall of a supply closet outside Bridge Crew quarters to the rear access to the food processors and following that access hallway led to a wall panel right across from the lounge. As she was shimmying along the skinny passage, she realized that this promotion would also mean the Service would get rid of her ship sooner than she’d been expecting. No more shimmying through maintenance corridors to get around the ship with incredible speed. Finally letting out a heavy sigh, she entered the lounge, poured herself a drink, and called Albert’s personal line.

The unit rang once, twice. After several sips and what felt like an eternity to Nina, Albert picked up. “Apologies, Captain Soler, I’m a tad busy,” Sergeant Spitz said, his breath heavy. He called her Captain Soler, Nina thought, that wasn’t a good sign.

“Albert,” Nina replied, “I know you still hate me, but I need to vent.”

Albert chuckled. “Fine, Nina,” he said, “Hour long pause on the fight. Warning, though, I’m actually busy, so I’m sorry if I don’t hear everything perfectly.”

Nina laughed back. That meant Albert was fighting someone. Because, of course he was. “Bryon finally did it,” she said with a groan and took a heavy swig.

“Did what?” Albert asked. Nina recognized the sound of hot plasma hitting flesh in the background. She couldn’t tell whether Albert was getting hit or doing the hitting, nor did it particularly matter. He was a monster, he’d do fine.

“The leak was the perfect opportunity to get me promoted,” Nina said.

Albert left it hanging for a moment. “See, your words are celebration worthy, but your tone is complaining. What’s wrong? You’ve wanted to be a legit Admiral since you were, like eight. Now you’re getting to be a commodore before sixty is really impressive. Last time that happened was a couple decades ago, right?”

“Yeah. With Current Fleet Admiral Isaiah Wallace,” she answered, then, shaking her head and taking a drink, added, “But that’s not the point. The point is, he’s promoting me to a patrol flotilla. I’m about to be stuck as a commodore for the rest of eternity.”

Albert laughed. “Didn’t you say that when he put you in command of the oldest ship in the Service?”

“Yeah, but I got lucky,” Nina replied, nearly cutting him off, “It’s not like I’ll be lucky enough to catch a leak in system red-handed if I’m flying around with five ships. Everyone knows, people don’t target flotilla protected supply chains. No, the only way I could possibly get even a modicum of a chance here is if between my official promotion ceremony tomorrow and the retiring of the Iratus in a year, there’s some massive war that breaks out and command is forced reactivate the Expeditionary Fleet, so me and the others with me who originally joined up in the since dispersed fleet get pulled out from under that idiot’s thumb and get to actually prove ourselves. But it isn’t like the cold war’s about to erupt, that’d just be dumb. There are too many parties, and if everyone’s not involved, no one will be. Nope, say goodbye to the fantastic and beautiful Naval Officer meteoring to the top, and hello to the career middle-management of officers, giving the same orders every week or so for all time.”

“Don’t worry too much,” Albert began, then paused, then added, “At least your stagnation has an end date, unlike some of us.”

“Oh, I hope you get shot,” Nina groaned.

“Too late,” Albert said with a chuckle, “Already happened a couple of times. But seriously, I wouldn’t worry too much about stagnation.”

“Why?” Nina asked.

Albert made a high-pitched squeal-like noise and laughed.

“You don’t get to do this, Albert,” Nina said, “What aren’t you telling me?”

“That would be unprofessional of me to tell you anything untoward, Captain,” Albert joked.

Nina knew what that meant. That meant he did know something. Letting out a very loud groan and finishing off her glass, she said, “Well, unfortunately for you, I’m always worried, about, like, everything.”

Those words hung for a moment, and then Albert asked, “Nina, are you drinking?” It was clear from his breathing that the pause was him processing the words, not any sort of fighting related thing.

“A bit,” Nina said as she poured herself another glass, “It keeps the stress down.”

Albert sighed. “Mm-hm,” he said, “You do realize you have the tolerance of a child.”

“Shut up,” Nina complained, taking another drink, “I’m on shore-leave. Everyone’s on the station, and this sofa is really comfy.”

“Well, before you embarrass yourself, I need to leave, because, um, well, work-stuff?” Albert said with a laugh.

“Enjoy work-stuff. It’s the best kind of stuff,” Nina replied, only slightly slurring words. Albert hung up, leaving Nina laying on the lounge’s couch alone. Albert had been very confident about her not needing to worry. That meant he, or more likely, his compatriot, knew something would be happening. Unless his current objective was starting a war, which is unlikely because people generally backed down when a monster showed up to the negotiating table, that meant they’d seen something on the news that made them certain a war would start. Slowly getting up, Nina hobbled over to the lounge’s tablet.

It only took three tries and one drink to get the tablet unlocked. Sitting down at the desk, Nina began looking through the news. Obituaries, fluff pieces, data raids, the usual. She then noticed the reports about an Astro Incorporato Security Ship being blown up by an agent of Hadrian Systems, along with an entire asteroid field mining complex. That meant tension between two, but not necessarily a war. Especially if the Service got involved. But then, she noticed another odd thing. This wasn’t in the news, which was really weird, but instead in one of her personal search algorithmic notifications. It seemed there was a lot of chatter about one of the monsters who left the service disappearing. No one reported it, so there wasn’t anything much to go on, but if someone had a way of killing a monster, it would mean one of the Services primary deterrents would be rendered moot. Nina couldn’t help but chuckle. Albert had been happy, almost, which meant he didn’t think that one of his old friends had died, but it didn’t matter whether or not it was true. All that mattered was if people believed it, and more and more seemed to. Standing up and doing a little dance, Nina put the booze back behind the bar, left the halfway drunk glass sitting on top, and twisted the bust on a bookshelf. The shelf opened before her, and she walked into the escape tunnel to the top deck. The door swung shut behind her, and carefully Nina began to climb the ladder. The ladder took her to the most defensible part of the ship: the observatory. It was the only place besides the bridge that could be locked down completely, and while regulations held that there could be no passageways into or out of the bridge, the observatory could be accessed from almost every deck. Pushing to the side the secret hatch concealed by the globe, she climbed out. Settling back into her chaise, she mentally prepared herself for the ceremony the next day. She didn’t want to tip her hand to the Rear Admiral, in case he could speed up the ship retirement process, which meant Nina had to practice her professional and cordial but slightly disappointed looks. And for the next three hours, while she sobered herself up, that was what she practiced, lying back and staring out the window at the stars around her ship.

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