Chapter 16

Sally stretched her week out to ten days and thoroughly enjoyed herself. She had contacted the Chief Clerk and sent him the chips, properly attested, to rate Morg and TJ as Assault Shuttle Pilots and he guided the process through despite the unusual signatures on the chip — all the signatories were legally able to so certify. The Chief Clerk also navigated the Second Space Lord's domain to have the personnel files updated and get the allowances in the paymaster process. Of course Sally got her flight allowance for her time — she was good people and deserved it.

TJ and Morg were sorry to see her go but that was the Navy — people meeting and parting to meet again sometime. The harbour was well known to them now and the turn arounds were much improved because the Boat Bay crew were now familiar with the system. The word very rapidly got around and the demand for the shuttle's services got to the point that the 'Jimmy' (First Lieutenant) got lumbered with the duty of assessing the requisitions and with TJ allocating the priorities for the next day's flights.

Flight Crew Rest requirements were not so much disregarded as not known. TJ and Morg hadn't heard of them as they had not been trained as aviation personnel specifically just incidentally to Rescue and Salvage work which was associated with Recovery Vessels or Space tugs. However the Captain and the First Lieutenant were acutely aware of crew fatigue as it involved the fitting out personnel and applied the same principles to the Assault Shuttle. TJ and Morg flew the shuttle double, occasionally triple and rarely four watches at a stretch. They recorded their times in their shuttle log books which were never meant for assault shuttle pilots.

That is perhaps why a blind eye was turned to certain of their activities or perhaps it was that the cabins had been for assault shuttle crews when the BCs were equipped with them. The companion way out of the Boat Bay ended in an outer bulkhead. The companionway to the cabins came off the first, aftwards between the Duty Room and the cabins and also ended in a bulkhead. Morg was puzzled as he could sense gaps behind both bulkheads. He closely inspected both and found at about eye level four indentations as if placards had been present, and that the repeated overpainting had 'sealed' the bulkheads. TJ had explained his intention of particle bonding a hatch in the aft companionway 'isolating' the suite. Morg explored the outer bulkhead by physically removing it to find that it was a sham to cover a dogged hatch in the inner hull — at that point he replaced the covering; he later made a visit to Orbital Engineering Stores and obtained a placard declaring "Inner Hull Inspection Hatch Cover — DO NOT BLOCK ACCESS WAY" and emplaced it. Before he got the placard he lifted the after sham to expose a knee knocker hatch passing through a strengthened transverse bulkhead which he calculated was the after Boat Bay bulkhead. On the after side of the hatch he found a sign announcing "Boat Bay Emergency Access — DO NOT BLOCK ACCESS WAY". He pulled it to, left it unclamped on the clip and did not replace the sham cover (He broke this up by the simple expedient of walking all over it and disposed of the fragments by putting them in the Duty Room's receptacle.).

Meantime TJ had dragged the portable bonder from the assault shuttle and bonded the hatch into position and after returning the bonder he was able to paint the new door 'in' to its surrounds. To ensure privacy, TJ had acquired a code lock. The hatch was readily opened from aft and when Morg told him of the after bulkhead TJ put in an emergency override (In Emergency — Break Cover).

TJ played with the com panels in the sleeping cabins and the rest room and found the 'other ends'. The toggles were then labelled.

Using the shuttle had meant that "Naseby" completed her fitting out before her squadron mates. The crew drafts had been called for in anticipation of this and "Naseby" was cleared for working up trials. Morg and TJ were able to catch up on some rest as the assault shuttle was not called for during evolutions not being in the TO&E and no one was telling the assessors of her presence — the First made sure their pinnaces and run abouts berthed at the personnel hatches and when Boat Bay evolutions were called for TJ and Morg with shuttle were ordered off and 'hid' in the Orbital Yard Transport for the day.

The yard signed "Naseby" 'off'; the full crew was brought aboard and intensive training of the crew was done. The Marine platoon had boarded and were overjoyed to find an assault shuttle — they had been told the BCs had been stripped of her shuttles and were woefully looking forward to being turret crew instead of marines. The Marine OC had once been a Colour Sergeant and at first opportunity buttonholed the First Lieutenant in the Mess (actually second dog the first day he joined) and between them further spread the gun crews (TJ and Morg did not appear on the Watch and Manning bills) so the marines could play together as a platoon with the Assault Shuttle. In subsequent discussions with the marines, Morg and TJ found what the marines needed and eventually became as good as any Flight School pilot.

"Naseby" was undergoing gunnery trials, when the Captain laid the task on them to pick up PO2 Denholt from the BuShips dock. Denholt was a big blond with an amiable smile and they chatted back and forth with Denholt (call me Denny) in the third seat. He was part of a small team in Wep Dev who were looking at manning tables in the various classes of warship and admitted the job was not easy as the actual number required to sail as compared to fight a warship was only a fraction of what was carried even in peacetime and his team were attempting to get war time numbers — the research required from past battles alone was huge and they seemed to have their noses always in a 'puter rather than being on the ships. Morg and TJ invited him to drop into their quarters for a bite to eat if he was aboard over night.

The shuttle had been ordered off to call beams' impact on the target drone — the view from the Gunnery Director (actually a screen in front of the Gunnery position on the bridge control panel with secondary positions aft of the main) was directly from the ship and was obscured by the flash of the weapons themselves. TJ and Morg hoped this wasn't going to be a role for them in action as they felt very exposed sitting out in space. During a lull in the practice, Tangerine was loitering out by the tug. "Naseby", for some inexplicable reason, temporarily disappeared from their screens. They rapidly assured themselves she was still there by use of the Mk 1 eyeball. For the rest of the exercise, TJ and Morg went over the system checks and found nothing. After parking in the Boat Bay, Morg examined the external radar and lidar antennae while TJ clambered about the inside checking cable and power runs. They pulled the sets themselves, retired to their rest room with them and performed every check they could without requiring a 'clean room'.

They were sitting there decidedly frustrated when the Duty Room commed and asked if PO Denholt could come around. Morg collected him while TJ fired up the coffee perk. Denny accepted the offer of food complaining the officers had been at him for about four hours and forgot to feed him let alone restore his flagging caffeine blood level. Morg cleared the table by putting the sets on the side table and TJ offered the coffee. Denny eyed the sets,

"Bit old, aren't they?"

"Yes" TJ confirmed, "but hadn't been used; they were put in new and not used until about two months ago; but there are no spares carried on board" (not offering an explanation) "but Murphy got at them this morning and they went on the blink for about three minutes. We cant find any fault and I hate intermittent faults ... but the tug..."

"Was still there" Morg took up the point "and there was a spot on the screen..."

"That followed "Naseby" finished TJ, "peculiar, most peculiar. It was as if "Naseby's" radar return got rubbed out."

"As Filister says curiouser and curiouser" Morg muttered and the others could almost see the neuronal gymnastics reflected on his features as he started to analyse the situation.

Denny was looking a bit shifty eyed and TJ pounced

"Denny! What do you know about this? You were on the bridge when this happened with Guns — I heard you in the background when I called in the 'beams shot'."

"Can I finish my coffee, first, I'm parched."

"How about we eat and get that out of the way — you aren't spoiling my meal" Morg offered reasonably.

Denny and TJ agreed and the meal was devoured and appreciated. Second mugs of coffee and Denny asked his companions

"How much do you know about electronics?" and waved at the sets.

"Quite a bit actually; we are gunnery rated because the navy can't teach us anything about it we don't already know and we didn't want to get stuck in EW or coms (and grinned) and now we are, aahh, well, officially stuck in gunnery."

"So, I've noticed" Denny observed. "You can stop looking and replace the sets. I got invited to "Naseby" because of a wrinkle a couple of friends and I have developed. We have a little black box that tunes a ship's shields to the background radiation and radar / lidar beams just sweep over the shield without return."

Both TJ and Morg sat up very straight and mentally began an analysis of the tactical implications and the electronic wizardry needed.

"That hole could be a problem" Morg said slowly "but we have brand new sets and we could almost touch "Naseby" we were so close. Why not tune the ship to the radiation, that way the hole will be much smaller."

"The upper deck might not like going around with no shields — they are funny that way." TJ objected, "but still, from standby, the shields take about a minute to raise"

The talk moved from the tactical problems to the electronics and the discussion ran into middle watch.

"Got to break this up. We've got to take you back before eight morning. You can camp in here. TJ put the bunk down. I'll get a linen bundle from next door."

...

The BuShips trip was accomplished without problem and they took the opportunity to visit the providores where in exchange for another black bottle, a goodly amount of flash frozen vegetables was obtained to be stored in their new cooler.

Morg had an arrangement with the cook in the after mess to get the rations for two 'in the raw' and was in the process of making TJ into a passable cook; cook, mind, not chef. It was one of TJ's rare burnt offerings that evening which opened up a rare opportunity and made a young man's dreams come true. (Why just young men?) Morg had forgotten to mention that he had run into one of the female spacers working in the laundry which butted onto the transverse bulkhead — some of the female crew had appropriated a store room on the outer of the companionway aft of the bulkhead as a relaxing room to get away from pesky males (they weren't menhaters they just wanted a private male free place) and Morg had literally run into her. He had apologised, collected the linen parcel (unofficially), nodded at her as he passed back and returned to the suite.

"Naseby" had a crew of about three thousand and there would always be strangers so it was not surprising that Morg was an unknown but clutching a linen parcel heading for the Boat Bay? Gunlayer 2nd? A mystery and goodlooking too.

Questions to the other women relaxing; a com to the Duty Room where another female provided a partial answer. But Gunlayer pilots? The puzzle deepened. A leading spacer had a conversation with a brand new female ensign, who, as low person on the pecking order got Laundry, Morale and Mail Officer, and more details emerged. TWO? Both good looking and not a bad thing was said about them (not much was said at all). The rotation of watches brought the curious one down to relax with her friends just after second dog. The smell of burnt meat drifted into the 'store' room, hurried checking of surroundings because fire even in metal ships was an emergency, they followed their noses and found the hatch on the clip and the smell coming from the Boat Bay. A nod at one another, the hatch unclipped and the exploring party assured themselves there was no fire. Some returned to their rest room but several lingered and an enjoyable night was had.

Next morning TJ raised his eyebrows at Morg, who shrugged,

"I aint hunting it but I aint kicking it out of the bunk, either."

...

The Marines put the greatest demand upon the shuttle now that the pure transport requirements were back to 'normal'. Captain Bonder, though, had became very canny about using the assault shuttle; he made sure that approaches and departures to and from "Naseby" were undertaken when the squadron was nightside of the planet and used the bulk of "Naseby" to block radar sweeps getting a return from the shuttle. The ensuing evolutions (contortions?) plus the propensity of "Naseby" to disappear off the screens of its squadron mates led many a matelot and some officers to wonder if the ship was bewitched.

Being new to having such a small marine detachment, the upper deck was at a loss as to how to use them and the question being 'too hard' no answer was provided. From the point of view of the Marines, having their own assault shuttle, albeit unarmed, was like having their own private coach.

The Squadron was finally signed off, certified for fleet duty and ordered to Maureen's Moon to join 3rd Fleet. Morg and TJ were not impressed by the sensations experienced traversing the Junction but at least they retained their last meal.

Fleet evolutions were still restricted by tight Treasury limits — the bureaucracy and the cursed pollies were beginning to realise that there might perhaps be a war coming or they might want to hand control of the Junction to Harbouria to avoid one, temporarily. So while extended fleet exercises were not overly well funded yet, showing the flag about the Perseus arm was allowed.

The Squadrons were allocated their ports of call and in their turn, 3rd BC Squadron made the voyage to New Liege and to Grenoble — both were miserable places to visit particularly New Liege where the antagonism was palpable. Fortunately there were no incidents during shore leaves apart from the usual drunk and disorderly with Morg standing angrily over a spacer who dared to deposit a foul smelling collection of stale alcohol, half digested food liberally mixed with malodourous stomach juices, ensuring that every particle was removed from the pristine deck of the shuttle. Morg was singularly unimpressed and with his size impressed not a few matelots to temper their intake while on a shore run.