To Sail a Darkling Sea

CHAPTER 30

“From what PO Paxton says about you, you should be the captain,” Sophia said, yawning and looking at the print-out from the new guy’s “nautical training course.” “Scored a ninety-eight on the written? That’s better than most of our pro captains. Better than I did.”

It was ten AM but she’d had a late night partying with the Marines. Even Faith had finally gotten into the act. Which sort of pissed Sophia off since Faith was a way better dancer. And she could drink better than Sophia, who had been practicing for God’s sake.

The new crewman was both fairly good looking for an older guy and oddly… unnoticeable. He should have been sunburned after going from a compartment to the nautical course but instead was just starting to brown. Eyes so blue they were nearly black, grey-shot black hair and she could look him in the eye standing up which meant he was short as hell for a guy. There was something about him she couldn’t put a finger on. She’d been raised to be a paranoid and compared to most of her generation she was. But in this case what should have triggered paranoia, “something odd,” was instead triggering a feeling of… relief? She had the oddest feeling that the man, unnoticeable though he might be, was going to be a real asset.

* * *

“I’m a quick study, ma’am,” Walker said. He was trying not to laugh at the situation.

“The only question I’ve got is can you take orders from a fifteen-year-old?” the girl said, looking up finally. “According to this, you’ve also got some civilian shooting experience and you’re a vet. Which is great. But I’ve been fighting this damned war since the last sign of civilization fell. So can you, will you, do what you’re told when a fifteen-year-old girl tells you to do it?”

“There was a saying in the Army, ma’am,” Walker said. “Respect the rank, not the person. But you have been doing this job the whole time and you’re still alive and sane. So I respect both. And I’ve taken orders from people younger than myself. Yes, I’ll follow your orders, ma’am.”

“Sorry,” The Lieutenant said, shrugging. “We got a guy came down with the prize crews and he did not have that attitude. Which was why I pitched him off my boat as soon as we got back. There can only be one captain on a boat. And they took most of my crew down in Gulmar. They’d been with me for months. Paula and Patrick went back to when Dad kicked me off the Tina’s Toy to take over a boat. I’m not handling the transition very well. But… Welcome aboard the Bella Senorita.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Thomas said. He really was trying not to chuckle that he was now working for one of the youngest officers in the DoD. One of the youngest in history if his recollection was correct.

“If I may ask a question, ma’am?”

“We don’t usually stand on that much ceremony, Walker,” The Lieutenant said. “But go.”

“Aren’t you one of the youngest officers in Navy history?”

“There was a fourteen-year-old probationary third in the War of Eighteen Twelve,” the skipper said. “But my sister has him beat. There hasn’t been one younger than sixteen since. That young was more of a British Navy thing. They had a twelve-year-old Lieutenant put in charge of a prize crew during the Napoleonic Wars from what one of the Limeys told me. That kid had to be peeing his short pants. But, yes, my sister and I are sort of throw-backs. Da points out that this is also the smallest and most desperate the Navy’s been since the War of Eighteen Twelve.”

“A valid point,” Walker said. “But historically interesting.”

“We are living history,” The Lieutenant said, shrugging. “Each and every one of us. The founding fathers and mothers of a new nation. Which Da points out at every opportunity. Usually adding ‘conceived in liberty’ although we’re pretty much all stuck in conditions of tyranny. The next step is meet the rest of the crew. We also have a new quote engineer coming aboard. We’ll see how that works out. And Olga is staying aboard, thank God. That much I insisted on.”

“Olga?” Walker asked.

“Seaman Apprentice, just promoted, Olga Zelenova,” the skipper said. “She’s from Chicago, sort of. Ukrainian by birth but grew up in the States. She… can take some getting used to. Guys usually sort of drop their jaws and follow her around with their tongues out. But she’s actually pretty good at clearance. I got her the promotion cause she was one of the few people I could trust at my back. And she can drive the boat well enough to stand watch and she doesn’t mind doing the chores. Now if I could just get us a real cook.”

“I’m an okay cook, ma’am,” Walker said.

“I’m not bad,” The Lieutenant said. “Neither is Olga. But I’d like more or less a full time cook. We’re going to be doing pretty much continuous operations and I’d rather have someone handling the galley who has just that job. It’s not what they’re saying we need. I don’t think they’re right. So I’m going to grab a bottle of hooch and go wheedle HR. Olga!”

“Mon Capitan?” Olga said, popping her head up from below. “I wasn’t eavesdropping. Much.”

The girl was wearing bikini top and shorts. Tom successfully managed not to leer. It was tough, but he managed. The knife scars were rather surprising though, especially given that they were too old to have happened due to the apocalypse.

“This is Tom Walker,” The Lieutenant said. “Show him around the boat. I’m going to go see if I can scrounge up a cook.”

“Will do,” Olga said. “Hello, Tom, welcome to the Bella Senorita.”

“Between the captain and the clearance specialist, the boat is well named,” Tom said. “Before we take the cook’s tour: Ma’am, I met your father the other night.”

“Was Da his normal charming self?” the skipper asked.

“He was,” Walker said. “However, it was an interesting subject. Why sometimes doing things… off the books was better than officially.”

“Basis of Da’s master’s thesis,” the Lieutenant said. “Your point?”

“The compartment I was in included two Indonesian waitresses,” Walker said. “One of them, Batari, was also a cook. She’s currently doing forensic cleaning. But I’m sure I could persuade her to join us. Several issues: She hasn’t been through the nautical course. The answer to that is she practically grew up in a galley. Her father had a fishing boat in Indonesia. Issue: She’s pregnant.”

“By you?” the skipper asked.

“I believe the phrase is, ‘what happens in the compartment stays in the compartment,’ ” Walker said. “There were four other males in the compartment. The best I can say is possibly, I’d lean so far as ‘probably,’ and there was no rape involved.”

“Lucky her,” Olga said.

“So what are you saying?” the Lieutenant said. “Go steal her?”

“I understand boat crews get to scrounge more or less at will,” Walker said. “I think she’d prefer that to working for chits on one of the ships. Who is going to say I can’t bring her over to the boat? I doubt anyone’s going to miss one Indonesian cook.”

“How pregnant?” Olga asked.

“About six months,” Walker said.

“Fast work,” The Lieutenant said. “That sounds a bit like rape.”

“There wasn’t much to do in the compartment, ma’am,” Walker said. “You can ask her if you’d like. She speaks a bit of English. And I know where to find her this evening. That way you don’t have to waste your time wheedling HR.”

“I didn’t really have time for it anyway,” The Lieutenant said. “We’re getting Flotilla assignments this afternoon and having a meeting on the crossing. Okay, if you think you can scrounge a cook this evening, great. I’m all for it. And if she’s anything like Sari, Da’s cook, all the better.”

“So do I still get to show him around the boat?” Olga asked. “He’s cute. And he’s small. I bet he can fit in all sorts of spaces in the engine room.”

“She’s mostly a flirt,” The Lieutenant said. “Mostly.”

“After you, Miss Seaman,” Walker said, gesturing for her to precede him. “That way I can watch your butt while ignoring what you’re saying.”

“I zeenk I zee the beginning of zee beautiful relationship,” Olga said.

“Vos yeux sont de la couleur de la mer du Nord,” Walker replied.

“Oooo,” Olga said. “It speaks French.”

“It also speaks Ukrainian so I can know what you’re saying about me in your sleep,” Walker said.

“No hanky panky til I see if the new engineer is a prick,” The Lieutenant said.

* * *

The new engineer was a Filipino female.

“Celementina Rosamaria Starshine Sagman,” the girl said, shaking Sophia’s hand. “At your service, ma’am.”

“You’re a mechanic?” Sophia asked. She didn’t look like a mechanic. She looked like a China doll and younger than Sophia. Her documents said twenty but the Lieutenant was having a hard time believing them. And she was, unsurprisingly, pregnant. So much for that being an issue.

“My father was a mechanic, si,” Sagman said. “I grew up in the shop. I was a maid on the Festival. But I am a good mechanic.”

“Scores are high,” Sophia said. She was starting to wonder if Da was pulling strings in that regard. Walker’s scores had been through the roof. “Is that going to be an issue?” she asked, gesturing awkwardly at the young woman’s round belly.

“I will perform my duties, ma’am,” Celementina said. “I have been working with it already. This is not… ” She shrugged. “I am Filipino, ma’am. We don’t have the same attitude about it that some women have.”

“American?” Sophia said. “Or Western in general?”

“I was not meaning to be offensive, ma’am,” Celementina said.

“I get your point,” Sophia said. “In the US we’d say ‘suck it up and drive on.’ I guess Filipino women just… do. Okay. ROWPU is running slow. See if you can get it figured out. I’ve asked for a replacement but there aren’t any with the same capacity. At least that they’re willing to give up. It’s probably the filters but that’s just a guess. And we don’t have any spare ROWPU filters. So… try to figure it out. Once we start at-sea clearance, if there is any at-sea clearance, we might be able to find a new one or some filters. But for now, we need this one working. Tanking water is a pain.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the mechanic said. “Are there tools?”

“Pat should have left most of his,” Sophia said. “And, again, if not wheedle, beg or borrow. We could maybe go raid one of the liners. That’s how we roll.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Celementina said. “I am used to this.”

“And I’m off to a meeting,” Sophia said. “Walker!”

“In the engine room, ma’am,” Walker yelled.

“Grab the inflatable,” Sophia yelled. “You’re running me over to the Bo.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Walker said.

* * *

“Ma’am,” the mate said on the way over to the liner. The inflatable was a 25' Brig Eagle center console. It had the name ‘Anarchy’ written on the side in flowing script. “Since I’m here, mind if I go try to find Batari?”

“The cook?” Sophia said. “No time like the present. We could definitely use a full-time cook.”

“I shall endeavor to provide, ma’am,” Walker said. “When should I pick you up?”

“They’ll radio the boat,” Sophia said. “Should be at least two hours. Probably more. You’ll know when all the other boats start flocking around.”

The floating dock of the Boadicea was crowded with boats. It took some time to get the Lieutenant to the dock.

“Be available in two hours, max,” Sophia said.

“Roger, ma’am,” Walker replied. “I’ll wait for some of this to clear down to board.”

“See you in a few,” Sophia said.

* * *

The meeting was in the theater and there was a seating chart. The Flotilla and division commanders were down front and the boat captains were to the rear, port, organized by boat names, alphabetically. The Marine contingent was starboard along with engineering and support. She found her seat and chuckled. Each of the seats had a yellow pad, clipboard and a pen on them. Just in case the attendees forgot they’d need to take notes.

She sat down and looked at the skipper next to her. He was an older guy she didn’t know. There were getting to be more and more people she didn’t know which was encouraging.

“Lieutenant Sophia Smith,” she said, offering her hand. “Bella Senorita.”

“James Dave Back,” the captain said, shaking her hand. “Bare Naked.”

“I hope that’s the name of your boat and not a Freudian slip,” Sophia said, chuckling.

“I was told it had become tradition not to rename your boat,” Back said. “So, yes, boat name.”

“That’s probably my fault,” Sophia said. “At least in part. I used that as an excuse to keep the name ‘No Tan Lines’ on my second boat.”

“Second?” Back said.

“I’m on my third,” Sophia said. “The first was a thirty-five and they retired it. Then I had a mechanical out-and-away on the lines and there was this sweet ninety-footer just aching for a new crew… ”

“Wait,” Back said. “Smith? Seawolf Smith?”

“Don’t let my sister’s stories fool you,” Sophia said. “She liiies.”

“Quiet down,” Isham said. “Time to get this started… ” He paused as the murmur of conversation continued.

“AT EASE!” Gunny Sands boomed.

“Thank you, Gunnery Sergeant,” Isham said. “Welcome to the first full captain’s meeting of the Wolf Squadron, my name, in case you don’t know me, is Lieutenant Commander Jack Isham. I’m the Squadron Chief of Staff. A small smattering of applause is welcome since I got promoted this morning.”

“Oh, he’s going to be insufferable for the next couple of weeks,” Sophia said, clapping politely.

“Know him?” Back asked.

“Loathe him,” Sophia said, smiling. “Capable. Real ass.”

“There are a series of promotions to announce before we begin since they affect the management of the upcoming crossing,” Isham said. “Hold your applause on these, we have to get through this meeting as quickly as possible. Chen, Zachary, Lieutenant Commander, USNR. That’s a permanent position, Zack, approved by the NCCC. Not frocked as the Navy says. Garman, Charles, Lieutenant Commander, USNR. Kuzma, Robert, Lieutenant Commander, USCG. Volpe, Michael, Captain, USMC. Paris, Elizabeth, Lieutenant, USNR… ”

Sophia knew all of them and wanted to applaud every one. She found herself trying not to cry.

“You okay?” Back asked.

“These are all great people,” Sophia said, sniffling. “Just… great people. I’m so happy for the… ”

“Smith, Sophia, Ensign, USNR… ”

“What?” Sophia said.

“Oh, HELL yeah!” a voice shouted. This time, there was a applause.

“I thought… ” Sophia said, sliding down in her chair. “I thought they were going to wait.”

“No time, people!” Isham said, holding up his hands. “Besides, there’s only one more to go… ”

He waited for the buzz to die down then looked at his list. Sophia knew he was trying not to growl. And why.

“Smith, Faith Marie, Second Lieutenant, USMC.”

“And now the reason for the promotions, besides being well deserved,” Isham said when the cheering had died. He brought up a power-point slide. “This is the overall manning of the Squadron. As of this morning, we have seven ships and sixty-three auxiliary craft which is what the smaller motor yachts are now being called. Since that means that Lieutenant Commander Chen, for example, was handling twenty-seven boats in his ‘Flotilla,’ that has now been changed to a Wing. There will be three Flotillas in Wing Alpha… ”

Sophia automatically looked for her name in the chart and found it: Commander, Division 7, Flotilla Four.

“Oh… shit.”

* * *

“Flotilla Four,” Isham said. “North wing. You are entirely response boats. The primary search vessels will be submarines. Each Division will be assigned to one sub, spread out so as to act as a secondary search group. Each boat will have at least one Navy clearance specialist and the Division command boat will have a Marine clearance team as well. Captain Volpe will be in overall charge of your Marines. You’ll change subs during rotation. Stay back from the subs. Two reasons. One, we don’t want them getting contaminated. Two, their radar turns out to be about as powerful as their sonar. They said something about ‘having kids with two heads’ if you got too close. They’ll be scanning by periscope and radar but they’ll only have about ten to twenty miles on visual, depending. You need to maintain a good watch at all times… ”

* * *

“There will be not a pass in review but a group photo taken prior to leaving harbor. Uniform is NavCam, MarPat or work blues, for Navy, Marines or Coast Guard, respectively and as to civilians, you can wear the usual riot of colors… ”

* * *

“Last item,” Isham said. “Awards. By orders of the Joint Chiefs, who had to remind our glorious commander that there were such things, award recommendations were circulated among the officers of the Squadron. These were reviewed at Squadron level. Some were either increased or decreased. I’m given to understand that in the past, virtually any award recommendation was automatically down-graded. That’s not what happened. We don’t know how the JCS made their decisions but most stood. Some were upgraded. None were downgraded.”

There was a bit of a buzz at that, mostly from the professionals explaining the concept to the newbies.

“We’ve all been here a long time and because of the number of actions that have taken place, there is a stack, literally, of these to go through. So quiet down. Two additional notes. The NCCC, being a civilian, can give purely civilian awards. Several civilian are up for awards as well… ”

“Is there a bump in pay?” someone shouted.

“Ah, there is why some people stay civilians,” Isham said. “And no. Second item. The Congress of the United States has to approve new awards other than campaign ribbons. The DoD can on its own create new skills badges. The difference is a designated skill versus a particular action. One notable skill badge, so I am told, is the Combat Infantryman’s Badge. The Marines don’t generally have many skill badges. You’re a Marine, that’s your skill. Take it or leave it. In this case, there have been two new skill badges created by the current JCS with the approval of the NCCC which are available cross-service.

“The first is the Sea Savior Badge. That is primarily for small boats who do at sea rescues. The badge is in three levels of award, Basic, Senior and Master Savior. The levels are based upon how many people came across the transom of small boat crewed or captained by an individual from another boat. Persons picked up from land do not in most cases count. There is a silver civilian award and a gold military award. Prior civilian experience accrues so if you’re a member of the military who did at-sea rescue prior to joining the military, your ‘points’ accrue to your military badge. The badge design is a cross surrounded by a life-saving ring. Senior has a star on top. Master is a star and wreath.

“The second new skills badge-I keep wanting to say ‘merit badge’-is the Boarding and Clearance Badge… ”

“Ooorah!” the Marines shouted, more or less as one.

“And, yes, the Marines are going to tend to get these,” Isham said. “This skills badge is based upon deck area cleared in large vessels with significant belowdecks spaces including but not limited to, freighters, liners and military vessels. I’m reading this from the notes, people. That’s what it says. As with the Sea Savior Badge, the Clearance and Boarding Badge counts prior civilian experience. There was apparently some debate on the design but the JCS finalized on a gold crossed Halligan tool and grapnel with a fouled rope representing its connection to the United States Marine Corps.”

“Away boarders!” Gunny Sands boomed.

“Oorah!” the Marine contingent replied.

“Again, Senior has a star surmounting it, Master has a star and wreath. And, Gunnery Sergeant, here’s one for the books. You don’t get a Master Boarder badge. Badge is to be worn on daily undress uniforms.

“The Hole took all our records and ran them through a computer algorithm to come up with these badges. Before we begin, let me warn the Marines that most of you are not going to get even a senior level clearance badge. The ‘points’ on both are based on how many feet of deck were cleared or people pulled over a transom divided by how many people were involved and their time involved. We’re going to take this in the order I’ve worked out. Each individual is going to come up and get pinned with all their awards and badges at once. Persons getting the least in terms of level of award and number are going to go first.

“Last item before we begin. A general ‘I was there’ award has been struck for clearance operations in and around the Canary Islands as well as actions in the North Atlantic prior to the Canaries. The North Atlantic Campaign Medal has a civilian counterpart that civilian crews who have operated in the area can wear as their choice. We’re having a hard time producing all of them but we’ll get it done. Those are going to be handed out through the chain of command later.

“Captain Smith, if you could take the stage to give the awards.”

Sophia had recommended Olga for a Silver Star, the only award she knew. She’d been gently informed by the Flotilla Commander that that was over the top. They’d settled on a Navy Commendation Medal with V device for Valor. She’d been told that it had been approved but the award would be at a later date in the Flotilla. She wasn’t even sure what a NavCom was.

The first award that caught her attention was:

“Sergeant Joshua Hocieniec,” Isham said. “United States Marine Corps. Six awards, one badge. First Award: Silver Star Medal for clearance operations on the liner Voyage Under Stars. Within hours after being rescued subsequent to being stranded at sea for two months, then Lance Corporal Hocieniec volunteered to join a small team on clearance of the massive ocean liner, Voyage Under Stars, to affect rescue of remaining crew and passengers. For three weeks, with little rest and no breaks, the Lance Corporal drove on with the mission, clearing two million feet of deck area and terminating, with the rest of the team, an estimated two thousand infected personnel, participating in the expenditure of over twenty thousand rounds of ammunition when he was not engaging in hand to hand combat with infected. During the course of the operation, one hundred and forty-two persons were rescued.

“That’s the last time I’m going to read the full text,” Isham said. “We’ve just got too many to go through.

“Second award: Bronze Star Medal with Valor. For clearance operations on the USS Iwo Jima… ”

“New award: Wolf Squadron Formation Medal. For operations as part of Wolf Squadron prior to clearance operations on the USS Iwo Jima. Mostly civilians are going to get this award. Hell, I think I get one…

“New Award: North Atlantic Campaign Medal…

Sophia was glad to see that Hooch was getting the recognition he deserved. She remembered how bad the Voyage was. The whole team would come back to the boats every night just dead with a look of absolute horror in their eyes.

“Last award:” Isham said. “Skill badge. Senior Boarder Badge.”

“Oorah!” the Marines boomed. “Away Boarders!”

Listening to the litany was a time-capsule of the last few months and it was starting to wear on Sophia’s nerves. She really didn’t want to be reminded of the Voyage, the Iwo Jima, the thousands of empty lifeboats and yachts and freighters that she had found. She found herself shrinking into her chair, wishing it would just end.

“McGarity, Cody, Specialist, United States Army,” Isham said. “Bronze Star with V Device. Posthumous. For actions in clearance in the Canary Islands operating area. Accepting the award, Ensign Sophia Smith… ”

“Hold onto this, honey,” Steve said, when Sophia accepted the award. “It’s possible that some family survived. If not… Keep it.”

“I will, Da,” Sophia said, clutching the award to her chest. “Thank you. I didn’t even think about it… ”

“That’s what senior officers are for,” Steve said. “Grab your seat again. But don’t get comfortable.”

“Fontana, Thomas, J. Lieutenant, United States Army Reserve, six awards, one badge… ”

“Silver Star, for clearance operations before and on the liner Voyage Under Stars… ”

“Senior Boarder’s badge… ”

“Smith, Faith, Second Lieutenant, Six awards, one badge. Three civilian awards, five military… ”

“Six?” Sophia muttered. “Six? Seriously? For Faith?”

“From what I hear, she deserves them,” Back said.

“But six?” Sophia said.

“Navy Cross. Leading combat teams in close-quarters clearance of ships in the North Atlantic. This award reflects civilian experience in clearance of vessels prior to the Lieutenant being commissioned. Basically, she really got it for the Voyage and the Iwo… ”

“Bronze Star with V device. Leading clearance teams on littoral clearance missions in the Canary Islands operating area… ”

“Navy Commendation Medal… ”

“Bronze Star, Second Award… ”

“Wolf Formation Medal… ”

“North Atlantic Campaign Medal… ”

“Last Award: Skill Badge. Master Boarder Award. First one awarded. Over the course of her civilian and Marine career, Lieutenant Smith has cleared or led forces in clearance of over nine million square feet of enclosed space combat at sea.”

“OORAH!”

“Smith, Sophia, Ensign,” Isham said. “Six awards, one skill badge… ”

“Oh,” she said.

“Time to go get covered in glory,” Back said, grinning.

“Defense Distinguished Service Medal, clearance and rescue operations as master of a Navy auxiliary vessel, from formation of Wolf Squadron. This award reflects prior civilian experience… ”

“Bronze Star, with V device, for commanding Navy security and clearance teams in the Canary Islands operational area… ”

“Navy Commendation medal, with V device… ”

“Last Award: Skill Badge: Master Sea Savior. First one awarded. Over the course of her civilian and military career, as both a crewman and master of small boats, Ensign Smith has contributed to the rescue of over one thousand persons from small craft at sea, including many of the people in this room… ”

“Oorah!” the Marines boomed. They generally felt that Sophia showed there was a good side to the Navy.

“Whenever you get to thinking about all those empty boats,” Steve said, pinning the award on his daughter to a round of enthusiastic applause. “Just rub this badge and know how many you have saved.”

“Yes, Da,” Sophia said, her face working to hold back the tears.

“We’ve got a long road ahead of us,” Steve said. “If these little bits of cloth keep the wheels turning, that’s worth it. And I think we’re finally done. Except for a couple of surprises.”

“Surprises?” Sophia said.

“I’ll take the mike, now, Jack,” Steve said.

“Oh, really?” Isham said.

“Really,” Steve said. “As some of you may know, Lieutenant Commander Isham and I did not start out well… ”

“Got that right!” Faith said, loudly.

“I outrank you, now,” Isham said, pointing a finger at the Lieutenant.

“But this whole lash-up wouldn’t work without Lieutenant Commander Isham putting in long hours of skull sweat,” Steve said. He took an award out from under the podium. “Lieutenant Commander Jack Isham, Front and Center.”

“I don’t need a medal, Captain,” Isham said.

“You’re getting one anyway,” Steve said. “Just one, though. By direction of the acting Joint Chiefs of Staff with the approval of the National Constitutional Continuity Coordinator, Lieutenant Jack Isham is hereby awarded the Defense Superior Service Medal for operations in the Atlantic Ocean Area. Congratulations, Jack.”

“I’m not even sure what a Superior Service Medal is,” Jack said. “Wait, I read the matrix… ”

“Just take it, Jack,” Steve said, pinning the medal on the Lieutenant Commander’s uniform. “If we ever get dress uniforms, you can start building up fruit salad. And I think we’re done.”

“Oh, no,” Isham said. “You have your surprises and I have mine, Captain.” He snapped his fingers and Stacey came out of the wings with a stack of award boxes. “Captain John Steven Smith, front and center.”

“Crap,” Steve muttered.

“By the authority of the National Constitutional Continuity Coordinator and the Chairmen of the Joint Chiefs of Staff,” Jack said. “Captain Steven John Smith is hereby awarded the following awards or badges.

“Silver Star, for establishment of Wolf Squadron and clearance of vessels at sea. This award reflects both military service and prior civilian actions.

“Defense Superior Service medal… ”

“Navy Medal… ”

“Bronze star… ”

“Senior Boarder’s badge, primarily reflecting prior civilian service… ”

“Senior Savior’s Badge, primarily reflecting prior civilian service… ”

“And we’re done,” Isham said, grinning.

“Thanks,” Steve said. “Now I feel like a generalissimo.”

* * *

“It’s well deserved, honey,” Steve said. “Seriously. You’ve been doing a wonderful job.”

Steve had taken the opportunity to have a family dinner. With the way they were planning on doing the crossing, it might be the last for a while.

“I think most of the people think it’s nepotism,” Sophia said.

“It was almost the opposite,” Steve said. “We’d discussed across the board promotions due to the increase in the size of the Squadron. When Jack sent the list up for the NCCC’s approval, it came back with both your names penned in and a note asking why we were failing to promote good officers.”

“How does the Nick know we’re good officers?” Faith asked. “It’s not like he’s here.”

“There’s a good bit of back channel going on through the subs,” Steve said. “I don’t mind it; the pros want to know that I’m not going hog wild. And we’re about the only entertainment the subs and The Hole have these days. So, yes, the Nick knows who you are and the officers in the Hole can make some rational judgments as to whether you’re doing your jobs and are worthy of promotion. Under Secretary Galloway says that your reports are getting much better, Faith. I’m putting Lieutenant Buford in charge of ensuring that improvement continues. And that you continue your schooling.”

“Ugh,” Faith said. “And I was looking forward to this float.”

“Sophia, your new deck crewman was an ESL teacher,” Steve said. “From the test scores, he has to be a fairly smart fellow. So I’m going to put him in charge of continuing your education as well. If that doesn’t work out, we’ll figure out something.”

“And running a Division and a boat,” Sophia said. “Da, this is getting worse than that walk in the rain.”

“Don’t remind me of that,” Faith said.

“There will be universities again someday,” Steve said. “Somewhere. And when there are, you’re both going. You have to be prepared, however. Now… we all have duties. Stay safe, please.”

“We will, Da,” Faith said. “As long as the fricking toy you put me on doesn’t sink.”

* * *

“We have a cook?” Sophia asked, stepping into the zodiac and sitting down quickly. “Get us gone from this mob, Tom.”

The new crew member had picked up some threads on his expedition. He now was wearing a bright Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts that appeared a size too large for him. On the other hand, there was a bag in the dinghy that had a blue jumpsuit in it.

“We are out of here,” Tom said, puttering through the crowd of boats. Fortunately, they were all inflatables and while he occasionally bumped other boats, they were, well, inflatables. The inner tubes just bounced off each other.

“Batari Dian Eko, Ensign Sophia Smith.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Eko,” Sophia said.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Acting Ensign,” Batari said, carefully.

The cook was, if anything, more round than Celementina. This was going to be interesting.

“My mistake, hang on,” Tom said. He chattered at the cook for a moment.

“I apologize,” Batari said. “I am not good with the rank. Congratulations on your promotion, Ensign.”

“Thanks,” Sophia said. “It was a completely surprise. So was the promotion to Division Commander.”

“My automatic reaction based on my previous service is to flinch,” Tom said. “You’re not ready to command thirty-two thousand men. Then I remembered with the Navy that’s a three or four element unit. Three boats?”

“Yes,” Sophia said. “And you’re going to be getting some personal orders to assist in my continuing education.”

“I’m not surprised your father is interested in that,” Tom said. “Being a teacher as he was. I can handle pretty much anything you need taught.”

“I was taking Chemistry,” Sophia said.

“Analytical or experimental?” Walker said. “And I don’t know where we’re going to find a lab but I can probably gin up some doozy experiments with explosives.”

“Not on my boat,” Sophia said, laughing. “Where did you learn explosives?”

“I’ve been around the block a few times,” Tom said. “Let’s say that while a zombie apocalypse is my first apocalypse, disasters I’ve seen a few. ESL teacher is a somethingth career. I can and have taught a good number of classes. It will be an honor continuing your education, Ensign.”

“And we have a group photo op the day of the float,” Sophia said. “And I need to get ahold of my two new Division boat captains and actually meet them. They were somewhere in the crowd but there was no way to find them.”

“Which boats?” Tom asked.

“Negocio Arriesgado and Finally Friday,” Sophia said. “I don’t know either of the skippers. Rainey and McCarthy. Both civilians.”

“Should we just call it the Risky Business?” Tom asked.

“Probably,” Sophia said. “I’ll get up with them when we get back to the boat.”