secured inside the dock. Mr. Diego, in the future you are to ensure the gig's fuel is topped off prior to launch so that I have the option to use it as needed instead of bringing it back almost immediately. Is that clearly understood, Mr. Diego?"
"Y-yes, ma'am."
"It had better be."
Carl turned toward Paul and let a flash of exasperation show on his face.
Paul nodded briefly back. Carl told Randy to fuel up the gig. Randy didn't listen, probably because he'd stayed focused on getting his training records reviewed. Now Randy's in the captain's dog house and the captain is probably looking for someone else to screw up so she can rip their head off. I hope Carl and I don't run into any more problems until Gonzalez calms down again .
Fortunately for Paul, Carl, the rest of the bridge watch and any other sailor within Captain Gonzalez's sight and hearing, no further problems hampered the recovery of the remaining pods. Whether cowed by the warning the Michaelson had sent out, or simply exercising an uncommon degree of common sense, the demonstrators avoided any other maneuvering, so their pods could be snapped up in tense but problem-free intercepts.
"Knock it off!" Carl gave the enlisted watchstanders a hard look to accompany his order, and both ceased their conversation instantly.
Paul raised an eyebrow at Carl. "They weren't that loud," he noted in a whisper.
Carl frowned, then nodded. "No, they weren't. I'm a little on edge."
"Me, too. We sit here for half an hour, then for a few minutes everything's tense as we grab a pod, then we get beat up by the ship maneuvering and get to wait a while again. I'll be real happy when we either get that last pod or our watch reliefs get here."
"They're here, Paul." Carl hooked a thumb toward one corner of the bridge.
Paul glanced that way, surprised to see Lieutenant Diem and Ensign Gabriel attached to tie-downs there. He checked the time, shocked to discover he was already past due for relief. Heck, I've been so wrapped up in each stage of this I lost track of how long we've been chasing these damn pods . "Why haven't they relieved us?"
"In the middle of this goat rope? I wouldn't want to take over under those conditions, and neither would you. We'll finish this out, then they'll relieve us."
Paul nodded reluctantly. "I guess that's true. What if we'd only been halfway through snagging the pods when our relief time rolled around?"
"We weren't. Different situation. Don't get locked into fixed procedures, Paul. If everything could be handled by formulas they'd have a couple of robots doing our job." Carl paused, his expression thoughtful. "Of course, my robot would be a lot better than your robot."
"And prone to delusional thinking. Okay, we're about to snag the last pod."
Carl tapped his communications panel. "Boats, any problems with stowing this last pod?"
"No, sir. It'll fit. The gig's not going anywhere else 'til we off-load these pods, though."
"Understand the gig's penned in by the pods in the dock. Thanks, Boats. Here comes number twelve."
Another pass, another lurch, and Michaelson had the last pod in tow. Carl gazed upward thankfully. "Mission accomplished. Captain, we have the last pod in tow."
Captain Gonzalez nodded shortly. "So I see. Notify me when the pod is secured."
"Aye, aye, ma'am."
Lieutenant Diem stole a glance at Captain Gonzalez, still stewing in her chair, then unlatched himself, quickly swung over to Carl and spoke in a low voice. "What's with the CO? She looks ready to chew some serious butt."
"It's a long story, starting with the Greenspacers screwing up the test firing. Just be real careful around her for a while."
"You don't have to tell me twice." Diem watched intently as the last escape pod was hauled in toward its resting place in the gig dock.
After several more minutes, the Chief Bosun called the bridge. "All pods secured, sir. Request permission to secure the gig and grapnel details."
Carl looked toward Captain Gonzalez, but before