Tamara Johansen gaped at Admiral George Hammond. He couldn't have gotten a more stunned reaction out of her if he'd suddenly ripped off his own face and revealed himself to be a Xzav wearing an exceptionally clever disguise.
Hammond was seated behind his desk, his fingers steepled in front of him. He watched Johnson pace his office with a mixture of amusement and awe. As usual, the woman seemed like a barely contained dynamo of energy. When she was this upset, her face tended to darken and provide such a contrast to her sunshine blond hair that it looked as if her head was on fire. Her ire, her astonishment, were so inflamed that it took her several moments to regain her composure sufficiently to articulate her thoughts. "Rush?" was all she could get out. "Nicholas Rush? My Nicholas Rush?"
"Your Nicholas Rush?" Hammond made no effort to keep the surprise out of his voice. "Commander, I'm well aware of the rumors regarding a history between you and Rush. Still, it's been my impression that it's been many years since he was your Nicholas Rush."
"Yes, yes, God yes," she said quickly, having regretted the slip the moment she'd said it. "There's no feelings in that regard. None. There had been a---brief flirtation, I admit...."
"How brief?"
She drew herself up stiffly. "I don't believe that is necessarily your business, sir."
"Agreed. How brief?"
With a sigh she said, "Three years."
"That's not what I'd consider brief, Commander," Hammond said doubtfully. Then he shrugged. "Well, it's not as if you were engaged---" And then he saw her look. "You----weren't engaged to be married, were you? Well?"
Endeavoring to rally herself, Johansen said firmly, "Admiral, I'm asking you to take my word for it that the past is squarely in the past. Furthermore, I feel I must inquire as to----that is, I'm curious as to the thinking behind...." She cleared her throat, and then forced herself to remember her place and station in life. "Permission to...."
"Yes, yes, speak freely," said Hammond impatiently.
At which point Johansen promptly tossed aside any attempt to speak in a diplomatic or tactful manner. "Dammit, Admiral, what the hell is going on in Fleet?" demanded Johansen, the fury practically exploding out of every pore.
"I didn't quite mean that freely..."
She didn't hear his dry response. She was too angry, waving her arms so vigorously that she looked as if she might go airborne any moment. "Putting aside that the Universe should be my ship---putting aside that I should have received my own command ages ago---putting aside all that....I find it personally infuriating that preference is being given to a man who walked away from Fleet over an officer who has served unwaveringly and unstintingly!"
"I see you're determined to make this about you."
"Frankly, sir, since I'm the only one here aside from you, I think it's a thing for me to do." She shook her head. "May I ask whose decision this was? I know perfectly well it wasn't yours."
"Weir suggested it..."
She rolled her eyes. "I might have known. Payback. Payback because I gave Sheppard a hard time."
Even though he knew it wasn't exactly the proper time, Hammond couldn't help but smile slightly. "Believe it or not, Commander, the galaxy doesn't revolve around you. Situations occur, decisions are made, people are born, grow old, and die, all without having anything to do with Tamara Johansen."
"I'm sorry, sir."
"Don't apologize. At the rate you're going, someday maybe it will revolve around you. The point is, although Weir suggested Rush, it was Admiral Lutes who had sealed the pact."
"Lutes?" She was clearly surprised. "I thought there was no love lost between Lutes and Weir."
"There wasn't, last I heard. There's something else going on, though. Something I haven't been able to completely find out about." He drummed his fingers on the desk, thoughtfully. "There've been rumors floating around."
"Rumors?"
"Stories, really. For example, shortly after he resigned from Fleet, Rush was alleged to have gotten into a serious drinking match with some admiral and made a wager involving the world of Prolla II
"Prolla II." Johansen made a face. "Wasn't that the world where a survey party got caught by the natives years ago, and they took the leader of that party and cut off his, uhm---" She shifted uncomfortably. "....his..."
"Privileges," Hammond said judiciously. "That's the place, all right. Never let it be said that Fleet can't take a hint. We've steered clear of Prolla since then. However, Prolla II apparently produces the best ale in the quadrant. Better than Sebacean ale, and tougher to get. Apparently, on a bet, Rush snuck onto Prolla II, acquired a case of ale, and hotfooted it off the planet with half the Prollan fleet on his ass."
In spite of herself, Johansen smiled. "That sounds like Rush, all right." Then she shook her head. "But I don't understand what that's got to do with anything."
"Maybe nothing." Hammond shrugged. "Maybe everything. Someone with that kind of attitude and resourcefulness might've been of interest to Lutes. He's got his fingers in a variety of 'unofficial,' 'behind the scenes' pies." He saw that Johansen was looking at him blankly and he sighed impatiently. "Do I have to spell it out for you, Commander?"
"Are you saying that Rush may have been involved in some kind of---under-the-table information gathering, sir?"
"It's possible, Commander. We live in a universe of possibilities. What it all boils down to," and he leaned forward on his desk, "is that Rush apparently has powerful backers. And those backers are inclined to give him the Universe and turn him loose in the former Centauri Republic."
By this point Johansen had sat in a chair across from Hammond. But Hammond's final statement seemed, to her, to more or less finish off the meeting. She slapped her legs, rose, and said, "Well, Admiral----I appreciate your candor." Trying to keep her voice even, to battle back the disappointment, she continued, "I hope you'll keep my service record in mind for potential future assignments in..."
"Sit down, Commander, we're not done."
"We're not?" She was genuinely confused, even as she obediently sat again. "With all due respect, I'm not sure what else there is to say."
"I may have been overruled in the matter of the captaincy," said Hammond, "but I can pull enough strings to jump you to the top of the list for first officer."
She stared at him for a long moment. The a short, disbelieving laugh jumped out of her throat, followed by longer, sustained laughter. Hammond displayed remarkable patience as he waited for the mirth to subside. It didn't happen quickly. Finally she managed to compose herself enough to say, "You're joking. You're not serious."
"Commander," he said evenly, "I've got a reputation for many things, but it's come to my attention that 'comedian' is not one of them. Do I look not serious?"
"It's ridiculous."
"Why is it ridiculous?"
"For one thing, I'm not interested in the post. Second, Rush would never accept me. Third...."
"Not interested in the post? Commander, I shouldn't have to do a selling job here," said Hammond impatiently. "It's a first-officer post on a ship with which you've already got some familiarity. A ship that's about to embark on a very high-profile mission which offers excellent opportunities. As first-officer, you'd be taking part in any kind of away mission...."
She snorted. "You don't know Nicholas Rush very well, Admiral. If you think he's going to sit around on the bridge while I spearhead away teams...."
"It's the first officer's job to make damned sure that the CO doesn't thrust himself into those kinds of high-risk situations." He leaned back in his chair and looked at her with what seemed to be faint disappointment. "Are you telling me, Commander, that you'd be incapable of riding herd on Nicholas Rush? That his bootprints would be all over you every time you tried to do your duty as you see fit? Well. Well, well, well," and he shook his head. "I guess I overestimated you."
Hammond could practically feel the waves of barely contained anger radiating from Johansen. "I didn't say that, Admiral."
"I beg your pardon, Commander, but you most assuredly did."
"I said Rush wouldn't sit still for it. That doesn't mean that I would just knuckle under." She smiled thinly. "To a certain extent, that's why we broke it off years ago. I wasn't his image of what he wanted in an ideal woman. I didn't jump to his tune, and I wasn't willing to make my career secondary to his."
"What a very old-fashioned attitude."
"He can't help it. It's part of his upbringing. When all's said and done. Rizajor aren't the most socially advanced of races."
"That's exactly my concern, Commander. Rush is a very tricky devil. Very resourceful and very sneaky. I think he's going to need a first officer who knows all his tricks. Someone he can't pull any fast ones on, or try to steamroll over. Someone who can stand up to him." He permitted a small smile. "I'm not stupid, Johansen, nor am I completely disconnected. I knew damned well before you set foot in here that you and Rush had history together. In my opinion, that's exactly what he needs. And you've got other----positives----that I think contribute to your viability as candidate for first officer."
"Those positives being that I'm ambitious," said Johansen. "That I want my own command. That if Rush screws up, I'm going to be there to note down the screwup in every detail so that, with any lucky, we can get him out of the captain's chair and replace him with someone who deserves the position."
Hammond nodded. "I'm glad to see that we're on the same wavelength, Commander. With your permission, then, I'll put forward your application with my strongest recommendation."
She considered it for a long moment. "You do realize that he'll never go for it."
"Maybe. Maybe not. If I need to narrow the options available to him, I can pull a few strings in that department. I wouldn't do that immediately, of course; only if he proves 'reluctant.'"
"Ah. Well." She folded her arms and looked squarely at Hammond. "There's two other things that I think I should clarify, Admiral. The first is, reverse psychology is a fairly obvious tactic, and I wish you had not had to resort to it."
"Mmmmm-hmmm," he said noncommittally. "And the second....?"
"The second is," and she leaned forward with her knuckles on the desk," if I should get the assignment, understand: My loyalty as first officer will be to my captain. It doesn't matter if we were once lovers. It doesn't matter if I think he's pigheaded, or stubborn, or a first-rate pain in the ass. If I sign on, I sign on for the whole package. I accept it and I deal with it. And if you think that I'm going to weasel my way on board and then turn around and be some kind of snitch, spy, quisling, rat, or in some other way, shape, or form search out means by which I can undercut or disenfranchise my superior officer, all for the purpose of advancement, then you, Admiral, with all due respect, can go screw yourself." And with that she turned on her heel and walked out the door.
Hammond sat there, staring at the space which she'd just vacated with undisguised amazement. And then, to no one in particular, he said, "Just once I'd like it if someone coupled the phrase 'with all due respect' with some sort of sentiment that was genuinely respectful."
ns 15.158.61.51da2
