in here in about an hour." Paul dropped his tentative plan to review the exercise timeline once again, and instead went looking for Petty Officer First Class Ivan Sharpe. He found him standing near the mess decks, watching the crew file past as they grabbed their breakfasts.
Sharpe touched his brow with one finger in an informal salute. "Mornin', Mr. Sinclair."
"Morning, Sheriff. Got a minute?"
"For my favorite ship's legal officer? Of course, sir."
"I'm the only ship's legal officer." Paul led Sharpe away from the other sailors before speaking again. "I hear you've been watching Seaman Fastow."
Sharpe rolled his eyes. "Me, sir? Perish the thought."
"Come on. She's in my division. I know all too well that she's had an attitude problem since she reported aboard a couple of months back. Is there something else going on with her?"
The master-at-arms rubbed his chin and looked back at Paul. "Nothing for certain, sir. I've just got a feeling there's something else. Fastow's got trouble written all over her."
"Let me know if you find out anything specific."
Sharpe grinned. "Why, sir, I thought you were dedicated to motivating your sailors and helping them maximize their potential."
Paul gave the Sheriff a sour look. "Fastow doesn't seem to want to be motivated. Right now the only thing she's maximizing is the amount of supervision she requires."
"Yes, sir. If I can bust the little lady, I'll make sure you know it."
"Thanks, Sheriff. Anything else going on?"
Sharpe looked around thoughtfully. "Not that I can think of. Things've been pretty quiet lately."
"The XO's all wrapped up in making sure this exercise with the foreign ships goes perfect."
"Everyone needs a hobby, sir."
Paul just grinned, shook his head and walked back toward Combat. Might as well get there early. I can watch the Maury get underway. Jen's ship. I wonder how many more times we'll have to watch the other's ship leave ?
His sailors were already at their watch stations, too. Chief Imari nodded a greeting to Paul then went back to discussing something with one of the petty officers. Paul went from station to station, speaking briefly to each sailor, getting some personal idea of how they felt and were doing, and letting them know he was personally interested in them. Little stuff. But it makes a difference .
His rounds made, Paul sat down at his own console, logged in, and centered the display on the Maury . The Michaelson 's own sensors couldn't see the Maury with a big chunk of Franklin Station in the way, but remote feeds from Franklin's own sensor net provided a clear picture. Like the Michaelson , the Maury resembled a slightly elongated football, all smooth surfaces and gentle curves designed to minimize reflections that would help someone spot the ship in space. With her visual bypass system shut down, the Maury 's hull was a dull gray that seemed to soak up light.
Once the system of fiber optic cameras and visual screens covering the hull was activated, the Maury would seem to vanish as the cameras picked up whatever they saw, routed it 180 degrees around the hull, and displayed it on the other side. Effectively, the Maury would bend light around herself, making her very hard to see. But this time out Maury 's not going to turn on her visual bypass system and neither are we. The whole point of this little exercise is to ensure that lots of people see what we're doing. Besides, hiding from the other ships that're going to be maneuvering close around us at high speed doesn't strike me as a very good idea . He wondered at what point in his time in space he'd begun to think of distances of fifty or a hundred kilometers as "close."
As the time approached for the Maury to get underway, Paul could see the magnetic lines holding her tightly to Franklin being taken in. Precisely at the scheduled time, the last line left contact with Franklin and Maury 's symbol changed to indicate she was a freely maneuvering object.
With the last tie to Franklin
Sharpe touched his brow with one finger in an informal salute. "Mornin', Mr. Sinclair."
"Morning, Sheriff. Got a minute?"
"For my favorite ship's legal officer? Of course, sir."
"I'm the only ship's legal officer." Paul led Sharpe away from the other sailors before speaking again. "I hear you've been watching Seaman Fastow."
Sharpe rolled his eyes. "Me, sir? Perish the thought."
"Come on. She's in my division. I know all too well that she's had an attitude problem since she reported aboard a couple of months back. Is there something else going on with her?"
The master-at-arms rubbed his chin and looked back at Paul. "Nothing for certain, sir. I've just got a feeling there's something else. Fastow's got trouble written all over her."
"Let me know if you find out anything specific."
Sharpe grinned. "Why, sir, I thought you were dedicated to motivating your sailors and helping them maximize their potential."
Paul gave the Sheriff a sour look. "Fastow doesn't seem to want to be motivated. Right now the only thing she's maximizing is the amount of supervision she requires."
"Yes, sir. If I can bust the little lady, I'll make sure you know it."
"Thanks, Sheriff. Anything else going on?"
Sharpe looked around thoughtfully. "Not that I can think of. Things've been pretty quiet lately."
"The XO's all wrapped up in making sure this exercise with the foreign ships goes perfect."
"Everyone needs a hobby, sir."
Paul just grinned, shook his head and walked back toward Combat. Might as well get there early. I can watch the Maury get underway. Jen's ship. I wonder how many more times we'll have to watch the other's ship leave ?
His sailors were already at their watch stations, too. Chief Imari nodded a greeting to Paul then went back to discussing something with one of the petty officers. Paul went from station to station, speaking briefly to each sailor, getting some personal idea of how they felt and were doing, and letting them know he was personally interested in them. Little stuff. But it makes a difference .
His rounds made, Paul sat down at his own console, logged in, and centered the display on the Maury . The Michaelson 's own sensors couldn't see the Maury with a big chunk of Franklin Station in the way, but remote feeds from Franklin's own sensor net provided a clear picture. Like the Michaelson , the Maury resembled a slightly elongated football, all smooth surfaces and gentle curves designed to minimize reflections that would help someone spot the ship in space. With her visual bypass system shut down, the Maury 's hull was a dull gray that seemed to soak up light.
Once the system of fiber optic cameras and visual screens covering the hull was activated, the Maury would seem to vanish as the cameras picked up whatever they saw, routed it 180 degrees around the hull, and displayed it on the other side. Effectively, the Maury would bend light around herself, making her very hard to see. But this time out Maury 's not going to turn on her visual bypass system and neither are we. The whole point of this little exercise is to ensure that lots of people see what we're doing. Besides, hiding from the other ships that're going to be maneuvering close around us at high speed doesn't strike me as a very good idea . He wondered at what point in his time in space he'd begun to think of distances of fifty or a hundred kilometers as "close."
As the time approached for the Maury to get underway, Paul could see the magnetic lines holding her tightly to Franklin being taken in. Precisely at the scheduled time, the last line left contact with Franklin and Maury 's symbol changed to indicate she was a freely maneuvering object.
With the last tie to Franklin
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