Metal Boxes - Trapped Outside Read Online Free Page B

Stone pulled up the specification on his dataport for the Vasco de Gama. He was becoming familiar with many of the navy’s ship types, but the unfortunate incident at Point Alpha-Beta had skewed his studies to combat vessels. The legal wrangling around UEN Periodontitis charted out all manner of warehouse and supply ships. Explorer class ships were almost an unknown type to him. Of course, specifics about the Vasco de Gama itself were classified, nevertheless there was a great deal of information available about the type of ship.
    Stone wondered where the Vasco de Gama was headed. Marines weren’t sent on explorer craft, certainly not one as small and middle class as a level three. A full platoon of sixty-four marines, with their officer, would be more cramped than usual, even having to sleep in shifts due to available bed space. The thought was brief. He felt a surge of joy hearing the master chief was going with the commander to babysit an ensign jg instead of a lowly midshipman. Butcher hadn’t said anything about taking a midshipman along, and a class three didn’t need more than three officers, one of whom was the chief engineer. Neither Butcher nor Bhutros wore engineer insignia.
    He doubted he’d been called into this meeting to get an assignment on the Vasco de Gama. He didn’t expect reassignment anytime soon. The legal wrangling about the events swirling around UEN Periodontitis was almost done and he didn’t have any scheduled meeting with the Empire’s Military Investigative Service, the Navy, or the Marine legal departments. However, they had said they wanted to keep him around for any follow-up questions. There always seemed to be more follow-up questions, although, at this point, their questions were becoming annoyingly repetitious.
    Butcher selected a set of orders from the displayed packet on his desk. He pressed a finger against one, tapped it twice to make a copy for his own files, and then flicked his finger, throwing the document’s cyber bits at LTSG Bhutros. Bhutros caught the bits with his dataport and glanced through the form with the experience of a man who had seen more than his share of official documents.
    Butcher copied and threw a second set of documents at Thomas. He de-stacked a couple of records and flicked the documents across the room, adding, “We also have an amended packet of orders to transport PO3 Ryte as a dedicated communications technician.” He looked unhappy that an officer of his rank and stature was dispensing common transfer orders to a low-ranking NCO instead of Ryte going to BuPers like all other enlisted and low ranking officers. He sounded like he wasn’t happy her assignment was added to his shipboard complement after the fact, even for transport. The small ship was scheduled to be packed and stacked with people like an unopened jar of sliced pickles.
    Ryte looked surprised at receiving shipboard orders. Her look of disappointment faded quickly since it was considered bad form for any low ranking enlisted to complain in the presence of a commander, to say nothing of griping in front of a vice admiral. She glanced through her orders, didn’t appear happy with the transfer, but she nodded acceptance.
    Stone was even more baffled. Ryte hadn’t filed sexual harassment charges against him, so why was he in this meeting? Butcher hadn’t said anything about taking a midshipman with him, either as ship’s complement or for transport. Maybe he was going to be passed to another supervisor. He had to be assigned somewhere on Lazzaroni Base if Butcher left.
    It dawned on him. Often, vice admirals were as close to retirement as they can get without holding a fruity umbrella drink on a beach somewhere. Temple must have requested Butcher transfer Stone to the admiral’s staff once Butcher deployed shipboard. It wouldn’t be difficult for an admiral to find a place on his staff for a midshipman who was at least four years away from his next promotion. The thought didn’t