3
Gain stood at ease in the SC's office as the Sub-Unit Officer arrived. Even a shavehead knew that SUO's were the real power in any military organization. Officers might issue orders, but it was up to the noncoms to get things done. A good SUO could make you look real sharp, if he or she wanted; they could also make you look like a sunbleached old white dog turd if they didn't like you.
Sitting behind his desk, the Old Man nodded at the SUO as he stepped inside and came to attention. "At ease, Chan."
The man relaxed. He was maybe forty-five T.S., a head shorter than Gain, had a lot of smile wrinkles, black hair cropped in a spacer's buzz, and a look of having seen and heard it all. His skin was coffee-and-cream-colored, and the whites of his eyes were remarkably clear. A forty-year man halfway through, Gain figured, and not somebody to screw around with. He'd know the system backward and how to get what he wanted out of it.
Everything Gain had learned at the Academy wasn't theoretical—the Subs had run things there, too.
"SUO Chan Singa, this is Light Unit Commander Stelo Gain, just assigned to Oasis II."
Gain gave the other man a military nod. "Sub."
"Luck," Chan said. He turned back toward the Old Man. "What's up, Pil?"
Gain wanted to shake his head. What, was the Old Man on a first name basis with everybody? Discipline must be hell around here.
"Usual FU. I've just given the LUC here a very sensitive mission, and I want you to volunteer to go along and make sure he has proper backup."
"A sensitive mission. What are we talking about here?"
"Oh, a little trip down to the water. A few days of R&R in Oondervatten. A few odds and ends."
"And you let me out of brig to tell me this? Come on, Pil. Fire the other barrel."
Out of the brig?
"Well, I can't give you all the details—we're talking commissioned-ears-only—but you might be paying a little visit to the Hot and Moist."
"What? You want me to go to Fishtown? Officially? To Jaskeen's place? Have you lost your mind?"
"You're still on speaking terms with Limos, aren't you?"
"When the uniform's in the locker, yeah."
"So leave it in the locker. You have some cit clothes, don't you?"
Chan shook his head. "I don't like the sound of this, Commander. Maybe I'd be better off in the brig."
"Well, I can tell you that the future of the Petit Harriers may be in jeopardy."
"Yeah, so? It's always in jeopardy, what else is new?"
Gain was holding himself in check, but barely. Who was this noncom to talk back to the SC like this? But—what could he learn from listening to a noncom who could talk back like this without getting cashed and booted out of the service? He listened.
"It's a matter of galactic importance?" the Old Man tried.
"The brig ain't so bad. Good food. Nice bed."
"How about, if we pull this off, we'll put a big fat dog of a problem right on the Grand Harriers' new Marshal-in-Chiefs lap? Maybe get him fired?"
SUO Singa grinned. "Hell, why didn't you say so in the first place? I'm in."
As Chan and Gain left the SC's office, the SUO turned to the LUC and said, "So, you in charge here, Luck?"
The question meant more than it was asking on the surface, and Gain damn sure knew it.
Gain thought about it for about three seconds. Yes, he was the officer and, in theory, responsible for, and in control of, this mission. The Sub was being let out of the brig for this operation, and God knew why he'd been put there in the first place and why the SC thought he should be released. The rules said there was a certain way to do things; the chain of command dictated it so.
Gain wanted to play the game as he had learned it. On the other hand, he wanted to get the job done. That was more important. Not only for the Petits, but for his own hide. If he had to take a risk, now was the time, before it all started to sizzle. You didn't need to be a physicist to know which way the reaction blew.
"Sub, I'm just out of the Academy and I don't know squat except what they taught me there. I'd rather win than be in charge. If you can get me out of this in one piece, I'm all ears and no mouth." One of his Subs at the Academy had been fond of that phrase, telling him it was the best way to learn. Gain was halfway convinced that all Subs everywhere knew each other.
Chan smiled, adding to his eye wrinkles. He reached out and slapped Gain on one shoulder. "Good for you, kid, that'll make things a lot easier."
Gain was relieved. "So, what now?"
"We have to collect a few people to give us a decent op unit."
"How many?"
"Oh, I figure another three besides us can manage it."
"Only five?"
"More'd only get in our way, where we're going."
"The courier ship was sabotaged," Gain offered.
"Yeah, I heard when I was in the brig."
Gossip was faster than subspace com, nothing new about that.
"Still, if we can't do it with five, we probably can't do it. We can yell for help, though it probably won't get to us in time."
"Mind if I ask you something?" Gain asked.
"Shoot."
"Why were you in the brig?"
"I punched out my LUC. Guy you're probably replacing. A real wetbrain. A shavehead Academy boy thought he knew squat about everything." Chan grinned.