Black Box by Ivan Turner

retiring from the service. She wouldn’t
get a full pension, but at thirty four that didn’t seem like such a
big deal. Just one more tour. All she had to do was keep herself
from doing something stupid.
    Something else stupid.
Everything Out Of Sorts
    The Crew Chief met Captain Beckett as he
checked in aboard the Valor. He was an older, grizzled, surly man
by the name of Rumple Hardy (no one believed that Rumple was
his given name, yet it appeared on every legal document anyone
could turn up). Hardy was another of those guys who just couldn’t
get along with anyone. Most crews with which he’d worked had been
composed of men and women who had learned to hate him. For a Crew
Chief, that wasn’t the best of practices. And yet, he was so good
at his job that even the members of the Admiralty couldn’t
find an excuse to remove him from duty. He and Beckett had found
each other six years earlier and formed an instant and mutual
respect.
    It was amazing how Beckett had found himself
comfortable with his dependency on Hardy. Since becoming an
officer, he had worked very hard at making sure that his reliance
in all possible situations was totally on himself. Excessive
reliance on others led to mistakes for which he alone was
responsible. But Hardy was almost flawless. He was almost as
dependable as Anabelle Rodrigo. Beckett had found that he could
always count on the chief to gain important information or simply
provide valuable insight.
    “Boone’s been on board for six hours,” he
said by way of greeting.
    “No kidding,” Beckett answered. He didn’t
know whether to be impressed or worried. Boone wasn’t the type of
guy to push himself.
    Hardy nodded. “He ran an inspection of the
vehicles and weapons right away, had something to eat and a shower,
and then inspected Control.”
    That was very odd. The weapons and vehicles
were under Boone’s direct authority, but not the control room. As
an officer, he had a right to be anywhere on board and inspect any
equipment, but he seldom exercised that right.
    “Where is he now?”
    “Engine room.”
    “Another inspection?”
    Hardy nodded again.
    “That’s damned peculiar.”
    And again. “It’s a damned peculiar
tour.”
    They made their way down the corridor to the
service ladder that led to the control deck. On that deck was a
conference room where they could be comfortable.
    “What do you have on our new officers?”
    Hardy pulled a face. “They’re not our
regular additions. Ukpere is a company man down to the bone. His
record is spotless and his promotions have come on schedule to the
minute. Applegate’s not as squeaky clean, but he’s not a Space
Force reject like the rest of us.”
    “Ukpere, Applegate, and Tedesco.” Beckett
ticked off the names carefully.
    “Don’t forget about Cabrera.”
    The captain looked a question.
    “She’s got as good a record as any of them
and she doesn’t fit too well on board the Valor .”
    “She’s a good lieutenant.”
    “She was a good lieutenant. Now she’s
an officer.”
    “What’s your point?”
    “My guess is that they’re trying to turn
this ship around. Too many rookies come off of the Valor only to find their way back on a few years down the road.”
    Beckett suppressed a reaction borne of
frustration.
    “It would do the Admiralty good to
have someone on board that could set a good example,” Hardy
surmised.
    “And what do think they plan to do about its
captain?”
    This time Hardy had no answer, but that
didn’t mean he didn’t think they wouldn’t do something .
Beckett had almost no friends left in the service. Certainly there
were none of any rank. Even his relationship with Admiral Poulle
was tenuous. Rumors of his end had been floating around for
years.
    “It doesn’t matter. Cabrera wouldn’t be
involved in a plot to unseat me.”
    “Just because she kissed you?”
    Beckett reddened, biting back his
response.
    “She requested a transfer, you know.”
    This time Beckett couldn’t