Chapter 672

The Interceptor Pilots’ Training Room Aboard Ship

Arlene and Ann remained on Ship’s bridge until zero seven fifty-nine hours, at which time Ship transported them to the door of the training room.

At zero eight hundred hours, (8:00 A.M.). “Ready?” Arlene asked her sister-wife.

“Whenever you are,” Ann said with a smile.

When the two walked through the door, the pilots shot to their feet and came to Attention. The two young women continued on to the front of the room before turning to face the group. “As you were,” Ann announced.

Most immediately noticed that Arlene and Ann were wearing their duty weapons and assumed the Wing would be training with handguns today. The aviators’ training wasn’t usually focused on personal weapons since their combat, if everything went to plan, would happen in an interceptor. Each craft was fitted with an escape module. However, chances of the craft being damaged only enough to disable it during combat, yet not enough to destroy the escape module, were slim to none, as some aviators reasoned. You either won, or you got dead. However, just in case, each position was equipped with a shortened version of the pulse rifle, and each would already be wearing their duty weapon.

Indeed, when Worthington and Camp’s unit had been hit, the damage was so severe that the module had no chance to function. Had it not been for Arlene and Ann risking their lives, the two would have died in the next couple of seconds.

Still, there was the possibility that an interceptor crew might somehow be involved in personal combat, so they trained with a pulse rifle and a handgun, although not to the standards that a combat trooper would, and certainly not to the advanced level of the specialty teams such as the one Jeff had commanded.

Thinking that they would do something other than train for the parade had brought smiles to the faces of all present. All thought that personal weapons training was on the agenda, but just before Arlene could disillusion them and give them their orders for the day, the door opened, and Worthington strolled in.

Even Arlene was hard put to believe he would show his insubordination to this extent, but she suddenly realized this would be when he called her out.

Something deep inside her awakened, and the hint of a smile touched her lips. If he wants it this way, so be it.

The door opened again, and the Colonel stepped inside. “Lieutenant Worthington. I need to see you in my office — now!”

Worthington’s sloppy attitude ceased between one heartbeat and the next. He did a perfect About Face to march toward the doorway.

“You lead the way,” Jeff told Worthington when the classroom door had closed behind them.

“Sir, I...”

“Not until we get there,” the Colonel snapped.

When they entered the Colonel’s office aboard Ship, Jeff went on around his desk to sit and stare at the uncomfortable aviator who remained at Attention.

After the silence had dragged on long enough, Jeff remarked, almost to himself, it seemed. “I should just let her kill you and get it over with. It would save wasting my time filling out paperwork. Stand at ease.”

“Sir...” Worthington began as he snapped to Parade Rest.

“Did I give you permission to speak!” It wasn’t a question, and it never crossed Worthington’s mind that it had been.

“Your Commander has bent over backward because she felt sorry for you.” When a frown formed on Worthington’s face, Jeff slapped his hand on his desk, the sound not unlike a gunshot.

“Now, it’s your turn. Speak your piece,” the Colonel snapped out.

“Sir, I don’t know...”

“Do you think that I’m stupid, Lieutenant?”

Worthington froze.

“Well, do you?”

“Uh, Sir. No, Sir!”

“She felt sorry for you when your stupidity allowed those Paladin crews to destroy your interceptor.”

“We were outnumbered...” Worthington began but froze at the look on Jeff’s face.

“You would not have been outnumbered or alone had you followed your Commander’s orders, which, not that it matters, originated from my orders. Orders designed to keep my interceptor crews from being killed. When did you come up with the absolutely brilliant idea to call her out?” he continued, almost in one breath.

“Sir, I never even thought of such a thing, and I would never do anything like that. Whoever told you that I did was lying.”

Jeff didn’t respond but sat grimly staring at him as Ship mentally played back Worthington’s conversation with Camp. Jeff went on as soon as Ship was finished. “That ring is seldom used, and even when it is, it is only used for physical confrontations of people who are reasonably matched. Never think that the reasons behind such confrontations aren’t thoroughly investigated. You, a supposedly seasoned airman, is threatening to call out a seventeen-year-old female, your superior officer, who, incidentally, would fucking easily kill you. So easily that it would bother her conscience for a long time to come — and maybe mine. There is a lot that you don’t know. If you did, you would have already shit on yourself when you understood just how stupid challenging her would be. She would put a bullet between your eyes before you could even lift your weapon from its holster. And hand-to-hand would have the same result, except it would probably hurt more.

“Lieutenant, I don’t want my wife to doublethink herself after she kills you, and kill you, she would. In case you don’t know, she’s gone one on one with a mercenary, a well-trained mercenary who already had his weapon in hand and pointed in her direction. She did it to save the rest of us, and she did it knowing she was about to die. His bullet struck her just as hers hit him. Hers was instantly fatal, but his missed her heart by a fraction of an inch. She was pissed that she missed the end of the battle because she was unconscious. Had it not been for Little One and Ship, she absolutely would have died. She didn’t mind killing that mercenary one bit because she saved my life and several others doing it, but I’m afraid she would worry that she should have just wounded you and didn’t really have to kill you. I, however, have set her straight on that wounding bullshit. Guaranteed, Lieutenant, she will put a bullet straight through the middle of your brain.

“I am starting to be of two minds about my having stopped this nonsense. You are planning to challenge someone who has bent over backward to keep you on the unit. As I mentioned a few minutes ago, it would be simpler to let your challenge proceed. There is little paperwork to a challenge in the ring. Are you ready for certain death, Lieutenant?”

“Sir, I didn’t challenge her...”

“I am told that you are going to challenge her to a duel in the ring.”

“Camp is lying. Besides, I was just pissed at the way she was treating me. I should be the Command pilot, not Camp.”

“Who says it was Camp who told me? Have you forgotten that Ship is sentient? And since you’re challenging that, would you like to hear the conversation with your partner where you said you were going to call her out? The one that you lied to me about earlier?”

“I was pissed at the way she was treating me. I never meant that I would actually do it. Besides, that was a private conversation. Recording private conversations is illegal.”

“Have you somehow forgotten that you’re in the military, Lieutenant? The General’s army owns you and can do with you as the General wishes. In addition, we are in Ship, an alive, thinking battleship who does not adhere to our rules unless it pleases her to do so. Should she want to, she can know everything that goes on inside her. Mostly, she gives us privacy, but certain words and actions awaken her attention. Threatening my Wing Commander brings about her full attention, as does it mine,” he snapped.

“Now if you can’t get along with your Commander, you can ask for a transfer or even provide charges against her, should you feel she has violated departmental regulations, but you have already lied while standing before me this morning.

“I have a written list of your insubordinations, slack work and attempts to screw up the training for the parade that I ordered my Wing Commander to provide me — signed and attested to by both the Commander and her Assistant, your interceptor’s AI — and Ship. Did you honestly think that Ship wouldn’t notice when you deliberately tried to screw up the timing when you practiced, or that your interceptor’s AI wouldn’t report you to her? If you had done those things while under my direct command, I would have disciplined you — instantly. Because you already had a unit shot from under you, your Commander went easy on you and gave you a second and even a third chance. She’s young and didn’t want to punish you, and worried that if she did, the rest of the Wing would view it as her being too hard on you. But she screwed up and let you get away with obvious and blatant insubordination. She will answer to me for that. But ... you have lied to me this morning. Regardless of your previous insubordination, that lie this morning is sufficient and beyond for you to be dismissed from the Wing.”

“Fuck the Wing,” Worthington snarled. “You should have put me in charge. It wouldn’t have been led by a couple of pussies then. It would have a real man leading it.”

“So be it,” the Colonel snapped. “Leave the Wing’s uniform and all your gear in your quarters. Report to Security and they will return you to your old unit. Remember, you were already blocked, and that block was reinforced to cover the secret materials you used and were given to use while in the Wing. Should you attempt to disclose the happenings here, it will be considered a breach of your oath and will be dealt with accordingly.

“I will only report that you are being returned to your original unit. There will be no reason given or expected. If you keep your mouth shut, that will be the end of it. That’s because I had an understanding with your Commander that I did not think that all aviators would work out in the Interceptor Wing, and some would probably be returned to their old jobs. Run your mouth, and I will report in detail your attitude and what happened to you to your Commander. In case you are too pigheaded to realize it, let me make myself clear. I am giving you one hell of a break.

“And Worthington. Hear this! If something happens to my wife, I’ll kill you without a second thought. Now get out of my face before I change my mind and do what I know should be done.”

Dessie and Phillip’s First Backpacking Trip Continued

Six weeks earlier continued.

“Are you okay?” Dessie asked, suddenly very sober, not to mention worried.

...”Sure,” he returned, “but, well, when I came to, my tongue was tingling. Are you okay down there?”

“She’s just fine. No, make that just absolutely wonderful,” Dessie said as she hugged her husband.

“I think the storm is just about over. Why don’t we get dressed and check outside?”

“Uh, sure,” she returned as she tore her eyes away from his groin. Her hand reached out to cup him there, even though he seemed to be in a hurry. Deciding to not aggravate him by dawdling, she quickly dressed and went out the tent doorway, only a step behind him.