"let's tighten up our radio procedures, at least for open channels."
Black nodded, a smile appearing at the corner of her mouth. "Aye aye, sir. I will yell at people accordingly."
"Good, good," said Dillon, turning to lean against the wardroom counter. Chief Black took a cookie from the jar and popped it in her mouth, leaning next to him. She wiped her sugary fingers on her uniform pants.
"Chief—" began the Captain.
"I know, sir. I know," she said, now wiping the sugar off her pants. "Habits."
Dillon shook his head. "Don't let the crew see you doing that."
"All the crew ever sees is my usual perfection, sir." For a few moments, the two stood in silence, nursing their mugs.
"Hey," said Dillon. "You heard from Atwell?"
Her face lit up in a smile. "Aye, sir. I got a message from her yesterday."
"You've got that look again, Chief. Was it a naughty message?"
"Parts of it."
"Good," said Dillon. "How's life in the academy? Is she enjoying her posting?"
"I guess," said Black. "She's still teaching second-year cadets. And since a full-time job somehow isn't enough, she's now taking classes in her spare time. She's started part of the command and staff course."
"So," said Dillon, "she meant what she said. She wants a command of her own someday."
"Yeah. She always means what she says," said Black, turning back to the jar of cookies. "That's one of the things I like about her."
"You two are a cute couple."
Chief Black stopped, in the middle of putting another cookie in her mouth. "Cute, Dillon?" She waved the cookie back and forth for emphasis. "No, no. We're not cute. You and the Tassali, you're cute."
Dillon smirked. "Is the crew saying anything?"
Black shook her head, her mouth full. "Nuh-uh," she mumbled as she chewed. "When anyone says anything, it's only to be amazed that you two can remain celibate for the entire deployment."
"Seriously?"
She just nodded, reaching for a napkin. "Seriously. The crew is fine with it. They think you two are being professional. More than they'd be." She shrugged. "I kinda agree. Hey," she said, "you ever hear from Maureen?"
Dillon blinked, as his mind took a moment to catch up. "Nah," he said. "I never hear from my sisters any more. You?"
"Nope. Last note I got from her was, 'oh wow, my little brother is now my best friend's boss, ha ha'."
"What do you think, Chief?"
Black shrugged. "You get the stripes, you get the job. The Admiralty Board doesn't give a shit if you grew up on the same street as your chief."
"Good," said Dillon. He leaned forward, stepping away from the counter. "So, Tremblay…"
"I've got one more good prank for him, sir. If he doesn't reciprocate, I'll leave him alone after that. His first deployment will be over when we get back."
"Fine with me."
"And if he has questions about the Tassali or her people, I'll tell him to go ask her himself."
"Sounds good. Well," said Dillon, raising his mug. "Back to work."
Chief Black pushed away from the counter, following him to the wardroom door. "Aye aye, Captain."
CHAPTER SEVEN
A scrum of reporters faced the podium, the glare from their camera lights flooding the room. Behind the podium stood the Defence Minister, with his tailored suit and perfect, greying hair. He had a practiced frown: his eyes narrowed, his jaw set; everything calculated and practiced to express a specific level of gravitas and authority.
From the back, the reporter's question was hard to make out above the noise of the room. The minister tilted his head slightly, turning one ear toward the speaker while his face took on an expression of sincere concentration.
"Yes," he said, when the reporter finished. "We're going to be taking a number of prudent steps in response to this Palani aggression." He spread his hands, giving a hint of a shrug as if about to concede a point. "Of course,
Black nodded, a smile appearing at the corner of her mouth. "Aye aye, sir. I will yell at people accordingly."
"Good, good," said Dillon, turning to lean against the wardroom counter. Chief Black took a cookie from the jar and popped it in her mouth, leaning next to him. She wiped her sugary fingers on her uniform pants.
"Chief—" began the Captain.
"I know, sir. I know," she said, now wiping the sugar off her pants. "Habits."
Dillon shook his head. "Don't let the crew see you doing that."
"All the crew ever sees is my usual perfection, sir." For a few moments, the two stood in silence, nursing their mugs.
"Hey," said Dillon. "You heard from Atwell?"
Her face lit up in a smile. "Aye, sir. I got a message from her yesterday."
"You've got that look again, Chief. Was it a naughty message?"
"Parts of it."
"Good," said Dillon. "How's life in the academy? Is she enjoying her posting?"
"I guess," said Black. "She's still teaching second-year cadets. And since a full-time job somehow isn't enough, she's now taking classes in her spare time. She's started part of the command and staff course."
"So," said Dillon, "she meant what she said. She wants a command of her own someday."
"Yeah. She always means what she says," said Black, turning back to the jar of cookies. "That's one of the things I like about her."
"You two are a cute couple."
Chief Black stopped, in the middle of putting another cookie in her mouth. "Cute, Dillon?" She waved the cookie back and forth for emphasis. "No, no. We're not cute. You and the Tassali, you're cute."
Dillon smirked. "Is the crew saying anything?"
Black shook her head, her mouth full. "Nuh-uh," she mumbled as she chewed. "When anyone says anything, it's only to be amazed that you two can remain celibate for the entire deployment."
"Seriously?"
She just nodded, reaching for a napkin. "Seriously. The crew is fine with it. They think you two are being professional. More than they'd be." She shrugged. "I kinda agree. Hey," she said, "you ever hear from Maureen?"
Dillon blinked, as his mind took a moment to catch up. "Nah," he said. "I never hear from my sisters any more. You?"
"Nope. Last note I got from her was, 'oh wow, my little brother is now my best friend's boss, ha ha'."
"What do you think, Chief?"
Black shrugged. "You get the stripes, you get the job. The Admiralty Board doesn't give a shit if you grew up on the same street as your chief."
"Good," said Dillon. He leaned forward, stepping away from the counter. "So, Tremblay…"
"I've got one more good prank for him, sir. If he doesn't reciprocate, I'll leave him alone after that. His first deployment will be over when we get back."
"Fine with me."
"And if he has questions about the Tassali or her people, I'll tell him to go ask her himself."
"Sounds good. Well," said Dillon, raising his mug. "Back to work."
Chief Black pushed away from the counter, following him to the wardroom door. "Aye aye, Captain."
CHAPTER SEVEN
A scrum of reporters faced the podium, the glare from their camera lights flooding the room. Behind the podium stood the Defence Minister, with his tailored suit and perfect, greying hair. He had a practiced frown: his eyes narrowed, his jaw set; everything calculated and practiced to express a specific level of gravitas and authority.
From the back, the reporter's question was hard to make out above the noise of the room. The minister tilted his head slightly, turning one ear toward the speaker while his face took on an expression of sincere concentration.
"Yes," he said, when the reporter finished. "We're going to be taking a number of prudent steps in response to this Palani aggression." He spread his hands, giving a hint of a shrug as if about to concede a point. "Of course,
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