The Command Read Online Free Page A

comics. They went back to them when she said her daughter’d got sick and the navy wouldn’t give her compassionate leave. They’d restricted her for the rest of A school and docked her pay.
    â€œWell, they teach a lot of stuff at that school we don’t use here. See, this ship was built in 1977. How many cars you see on the road from ’77? The gens are shit, they gave ’em to us off the
Haylor.
And the waste heat boilers, I don’t know why they put those things on here. We have to make the parts, or buy ’em out in town.”
    â€œWell, I’m eager to learn all I can and start to—”
    A second class rattled down the ladder, saw her, looked away instantly. He said, riding over what she was saying, “Chief says we got to cough up another mess crank. That ditzy B-bitch got the monthlies so bad she can’t get out of her bunk. The em-dee-em-ay wants somebody else.”
    â€œHell with him. We ain’t on the hook. If she’s sick, he got to go to another division.”
    â€œBolo says he’s countin’ bein’ on the rag same as sick-leaved off. He wants another guy or none of us are eatin’.”
    Cobie felt her heart sink. Not mess duty. Not the day she reported aboard. But to her surprise Helm said, “Ricochet, get your ass down there. And wash your fuckin’ hands before you stick ’em in our food.”
    X-Men
thumped to the gratings. “Fuck that, man! I just got off!”
    â€œYou’re only back on till the … regularly assigned person feels better.” Helm smiled at her.
    Ricochet left, not looking happy. The first class got up and said casually he’d take her around, give her a tour of the space. When they were out of earshot, pulling themselves up the smooth greasy-feeling handrails to the next level, he said over his shoulder, “What’s wrong with your leg?”
    â€œJust twisted my ankle a little.” Guys didn’t want to hear about what was wrong with you. Your headaches or stuff. Toby sure never had.
    â€œUh-huh. Well, listen. Some of these A-holes are going to act weird around you. Don’t take it personally. Chief engineer, he laid it on us certain things are written in concrete from the get-go. If any of the guys get caught screwing around with you people, it’ll be the wrath of God come down. Captain Ross don’t want any hanky-pankying on his ship. Wants us to concentrate on our jobs, not on our lib-a-do. You know what that is?”
    She told him yeah.
    â€œSo don’t take it wrong if the guys don’t talk to you. There’ll be some shit— There’ll be some stuff—”
    â€œYou can say ‘shit’ and ‘asshole,’ Petty Officer. My ears lost their virginity back when I worked at Ray’s Tire and Auto.”
    â€œUh-huh, well, like I was sayin’, there’ll be shit along the way, but we’re gonna work it out. And you just call me Mick, you don’t need to do that Petty Officer Helm stuff unless there’s an O around.”
    â€œAn ‘O’?”
    â€œAn O. A zero. You know, an officer. Or Chief Bendt. You got to work together, you don’t do that day to day. Anyway, you got a rack? Oh, yeah, the women’s bunkroom—we call it the Mustang Ranch.” He’d grinned. “Okay, we got a change of command this morning, you better hustle and get your whites out of your seabag. Remember to come right back after, we got a lot to get done today. You can meet the Wizard of Oz when we fall in. Flight deck, whites, half an hour, go.”
    â€¦
    SO that now as everybody milled around the helo deck, gradually dispersing, Helm took her over to meet the khaki. Master Chief Bendt, the “Top Snipe,” was short and harried. Gray-black hair grew out of his ears, and his tobacco-stained fingers trembled like a rabbit’s nose. He looked at her for a half second and said to get her lined up fast,