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Authors: Cliff Happy
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hoping he realized she wasn’t the former.
Brodie leaned back in his seat as his fingers resumed their gentle tapping on the surface of the table. “The other person you could have been would have to be someone special indeed to put up with all of the vile crap you had to go through.” He paused for a moment, still scrutinizing her. He then lowered his eyes to the table top as if to examine his fingers. “And if, by chance, you turned out to be the latter, you would be someone I’d rather like to have in my crew.”
It was a concise, logical argument. Something she understood. But was it sincere? She couldn’t be certain. She was still stinging from their first encounter, and the anger she’d felt toward him had yet to fade. Had he just been taking her measure? If so, then none of what had transpired in this cabin had been a game. He was not some sick sadist who enjoyed toying with people’s emotions. Brodie had been assessing her character and determining how best to use her for the benefit of all on board. He’d done what she herself would have done in his place. Kristen nodded her thanks and came to attention.
“That’ll be all, Lieutenant. Dismissed,” he said, having already returned his attention back to the report.
“Aye-aye, sir. Have a good day, sir.” She responded as she’d been taught to do years earlier as a Plebe in the Naval Academy.
“You too, Lieutenant,” he answered without looking up.
As she stepped toward the door, she heard him offer a final word, “And get some dry clothes on before you catch your death.”
“Aye, sir.”
Chapter Five
The Wolf’s Den, USS Seawolf
K risten waited impatiently by the rear entrance to the crew’s mess deck. Meanwhile, work continued throughout the submarine, the men seemingly unimpressed by her being on board. Those who saw her ignored her or—in most cases—were simply too tired to take notice. Since leaving the captain’s cabin, she’d been driven back to her barracks on base to change into a working uniform and was now waiting for her department head to arrive.
As a new officer on board, she was automatically assigned to the engineering department in order to begin preparing her for the infamous engineering watch officer exam. It was just the first of many tests she would be subjected to over potentially years before she earned the coveted gold dolphin pin. Most officers arrived on board as ensigns after completing months of training on nuclear reactors followed by the submarine officer course. Although Kristen had finished both of these courses at the top of her class, she’d been bounced around the Navy for another two years pending a decision on her petition to serve on a submarine. Thus, she was checking aboard as a senior lieutenant junior grade and was nearly three years behind where she should be in earning her qualification badge.
A thunderclap-like sound startled her, and she turned abruptly to see a gruff, broad-shouldered lieutenant commander glaring at her with a look that could blister paint. He’d just dropped a three-inch thick binder on a mess table, and he was looking at her as if she were something stuck to the bottom of his shoe.
“Good afternoon, sir,” she said politely, drawing her five-foot, ten-inch frame to attention. She was slightly taller than he, something she knew men tended to detest. His uniform was covered in grime and grease stains, and she knew intuitively that he was the chief engineer. Her new boss. She saw the name stitched on his coveralls: Kaczynski.
He responded by dropping a custody receipt and ink pen on top of the binder. “That’s your qual binder. Lose it, and I’ll have your ass. Got it?” he grumbled.
Kristen knew what the qualification binder was. It was a book filled with checklists for every system and compartment she’d have to become certified on before earning her dolphins. It was also classified and couldn’t leave the skin of the ship. In fact, when not in her
Brodie leaned back in his seat as his fingers resumed their gentle tapping on the surface of the table. “The other person you could have been would have to be someone special indeed to put up with all of the vile crap you had to go through.” He paused for a moment, still scrutinizing her. He then lowered his eyes to the table top as if to examine his fingers. “And if, by chance, you turned out to be the latter, you would be someone I’d rather like to have in my crew.”
It was a concise, logical argument. Something she understood. But was it sincere? She couldn’t be certain. She was still stinging from their first encounter, and the anger she’d felt toward him had yet to fade. Had he just been taking her measure? If so, then none of what had transpired in this cabin had been a game. He was not some sick sadist who enjoyed toying with people’s emotions. Brodie had been assessing her character and determining how best to use her for the benefit of all on board. He’d done what she herself would have done in his place. Kristen nodded her thanks and came to attention.
“That’ll be all, Lieutenant. Dismissed,” he said, having already returned his attention back to the report.
“Aye-aye, sir. Have a good day, sir.” She responded as she’d been taught to do years earlier as a Plebe in the Naval Academy.
“You too, Lieutenant,” he answered without looking up.
As she stepped toward the door, she heard him offer a final word, “And get some dry clothes on before you catch your death.”
“Aye, sir.”
Chapter Five
The Wolf’s Den, USS Seawolf
K risten waited impatiently by the rear entrance to the crew’s mess deck. Meanwhile, work continued throughout the submarine, the men seemingly unimpressed by her being on board. Those who saw her ignored her or—in most cases—were simply too tired to take notice. Since leaving the captain’s cabin, she’d been driven back to her barracks on base to change into a working uniform and was now waiting for her department head to arrive.
As a new officer on board, she was automatically assigned to the engineering department in order to begin preparing her for the infamous engineering watch officer exam. It was just the first of many tests she would be subjected to over potentially years before she earned the coveted gold dolphin pin. Most officers arrived on board as ensigns after completing months of training on nuclear reactors followed by the submarine officer course. Although Kristen had finished both of these courses at the top of her class, she’d been bounced around the Navy for another two years pending a decision on her petition to serve on a submarine. Thus, she was checking aboard as a senior lieutenant junior grade and was nearly three years behind where she should be in earning her qualification badge.
A thunderclap-like sound startled her, and she turned abruptly to see a gruff, broad-shouldered lieutenant commander glaring at her with a look that could blister paint. He’d just dropped a three-inch thick binder on a mess table, and he was looking at her as if she were something stuck to the bottom of his shoe.
“Good afternoon, sir,” she said politely, drawing her five-foot, ten-inch frame to attention. She was slightly taller than he, something she knew men tended to detest. His uniform was covered in grime and grease stains, and she knew intuitively that he was the chief engineer. Her new boss. She saw the name stitched on his coveralls: Kaczynski.
He responded by dropping a custody receipt and ink pen on top of the binder. “That’s your qual binder. Lose it, and I’ll have your ass. Got it?” he grumbled.
Kristen knew what the qualification binder was. It was a book filled with checklists for every system and compartment she’d have to become certified on before earning her dolphins. It was also classified and couldn’t leave the skin of the ship. In fact, when not in her
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