Read Online Ride The Rising Tide (The Maxwell Saga) by Peter Grant - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Peter Grant
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first year aboard. I’ve got to have at least that much time in grade as a Spacer First to be eligible for promotion to PO3, and I’ll need that rank before I can be rated as PIC. If you’ll help me get everything together in that time frame, I’ll do all I can to help you with the dirty jobs.”
Garza stopped in his tracks, frowning angrily. “Just who do you think you are, trying to make deals with me? This is the Fleet, not some tramp freighter, and Hebe ’s your first ship since Boot Camp! No matter that you’re wearing First Class badges — as far as I’m concerned you’re still a beginner!”
Steve stood his ground. “In a warship you’d be right, PO, but Hebe ’s not a warship. She’s the same size as the freighter I worked aboard in the merchant service — in fact, I reckon that’s why I was assigned to her in the first place, because I already know my way around this type of ship. Also, you’ll have noticed I’m wearing the Superior Unit Award ribbon, from when my merchant ship was chartered as a Fleet auxiliary. We exceeded the Fleet’s standards, which is why the Fleet spacers we had aboard nominated us for it. I’ll be productive from day one, and I’ll work harder, smarter and faster than any newbie spacer on his first shipboard assignment. In return, all I’m asking for is the chance to build up my stick time. I don’t want favoritism — just fairness.”
Garza looked at him thunderously for a long moment, then unbent. “Well… I’m not used to new arrivals taking that line with me, but you may have a point. Prove it to me, Spacer. Work hard and smart, show me you’re worth it, and I’ll see about getting you ten to fifteen hours of stick time a week. You’ll probably have to work overtime to fit in that much flying, mind you!”
“Thanks, PO. I understand. The overtime’s no problem.”
~ ~ ~
Garza was as good as his word. He loaded Steve down with as many dirty, unpleasant jobs as he could find; but when Steve proved he was ready, willing and able to tackle them all, and did them well, the Petty Officer kept his side of the bargain. Steve found himself flying many missions aboard Hebe ’s big cargo shuttles, which had more need of a second pilot than her smaller cutters and lone gig for the Captain’s use. The ship’s senior pilots gave him plenty of stick time, even if only so they could brew coffee and relax for a change. He seized every opportunity he could get, and his hours of experience as second pilot mounted steadily.
All the pilots bitched and moaned about the amount of non–flying work that came their way. On a smaller auxiliary such as Hebe there were never enough crew to tackle everything that had to be done, so everyone had to fill in by doing multiple jobs. At times their secondary tasks became so onerous that their flying and maintenance duties suffered; but Lieutenant–Commander Wollaston pointed out unsympathetically that they had off–duty hours, just as he did. If he could spend some of them catching up with his backlog, so could they. Muttering to themselves, they followed his example.
One morning, three months after Steve had joined the ship, the pilots and small craft crew members paraded as usual to hear the day’s assignments. PO Garza was in a particularly irascible mood.
“PO3 Smith, take two Spacers and report to Senior Lieutenant Dickerson. She’s having the devil of a time getting the new refrigeration coil bedded down. She’s asked for someone with a strong back and a weak head to shove it around for her. I told her you’d be perfect for the job!” The formation chuckled. “It’ll be dirty work, so change into your oldest coveralls.”
Smith came to attention. “Aye aye, PO. Any preference who I take for my work party?”
“It’ll be a long job, so pick people who won’t be required anywhere else for the rest of the day.”
“ Aye aye, PO.”
Smith relaxed to the ‘at ease’ position again, grinning wryly at Steve
Garza stopped in his tracks, frowning angrily. “Just who do you think you are, trying to make deals with me? This is the Fleet, not some tramp freighter, and Hebe ’s your first ship since Boot Camp! No matter that you’re wearing First Class badges — as far as I’m concerned you’re still a beginner!”
Steve stood his ground. “In a warship you’d be right, PO, but Hebe ’s not a warship. She’s the same size as the freighter I worked aboard in the merchant service — in fact, I reckon that’s why I was assigned to her in the first place, because I already know my way around this type of ship. Also, you’ll have noticed I’m wearing the Superior Unit Award ribbon, from when my merchant ship was chartered as a Fleet auxiliary. We exceeded the Fleet’s standards, which is why the Fleet spacers we had aboard nominated us for it. I’ll be productive from day one, and I’ll work harder, smarter and faster than any newbie spacer on his first shipboard assignment. In return, all I’m asking for is the chance to build up my stick time. I don’t want favoritism — just fairness.”
Garza looked at him thunderously for a long moment, then unbent. “Well… I’m not used to new arrivals taking that line with me, but you may have a point. Prove it to me, Spacer. Work hard and smart, show me you’re worth it, and I’ll see about getting you ten to fifteen hours of stick time a week. You’ll probably have to work overtime to fit in that much flying, mind you!”
“Thanks, PO. I understand. The overtime’s no problem.”
~ ~ ~
Garza was as good as his word. He loaded Steve down with as many dirty, unpleasant jobs as he could find; but when Steve proved he was ready, willing and able to tackle them all, and did them well, the Petty Officer kept his side of the bargain. Steve found himself flying many missions aboard Hebe ’s big cargo shuttles, which had more need of a second pilot than her smaller cutters and lone gig for the Captain’s use. The ship’s senior pilots gave him plenty of stick time, even if only so they could brew coffee and relax for a change. He seized every opportunity he could get, and his hours of experience as second pilot mounted steadily.
All the pilots bitched and moaned about the amount of non–flying work that came their way. On a smaller auxiliary such as Hebe there were never enough crew to tackle everything that had to be done, so everyone had to fill in by doing multiple jobs. At times their secondary tasks became so onerous that their flying and maintenance duties suffered; but Lieutenant–Commander Wollaston pointed out unsympathetically that they had off–duty hours, just as he did. If he could spend some of them catching up with his backlog, so could they. Muttering to themselves, they followed his example.
One morning, three months after Steve had joined the ship, the pilots and small craft crew members paraded as usual to hear the day’s assignments. PO Garza was in a particularly irascible mood.
“PO3 Smith, take two Spacers and report to Senior Lieutenant Dickerson. She’s having the devil of a time getting the new refrigeration coil bedded down. She’s asked for someone with a strong back and a weak head to shove it around for her. I told her you’d be perfect for the job!” The formation chuckled. “It’ll be dirty work, so change into your oldest coveralls.”
Smith came to attention. “Aye aye, PO. Any preference who I take for my work party?”
“It’ll be a long job, so pick people who won’t be required anywhere else for the rest of the day.”
“ Aye aye, PO.”
Smith relaxed to the ‘at ease’ position again, grinning wryly at Steve
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