He looked from face to face, feeling his temper start to flare. “Let me guess,” he added, when none of them seemed inclined to answer the question. “You reached the limits of what could be legally gambled, so you started searching for forfeits. And one of you two idiots” — he gazed at the two men — “had the bright idea of a striptease. Right?”
“Yes, sir,” Richardson stammered.
James rolled his eyes. Gambling rings existed on almost every large starship, often serving as a vehicle for the younger and more naive crewmen to be separated from a third of their wages. Normally, the Boatswain would supervise to ensure that no one was drained of all their available wages — a third of naval wages were banked on Earth or Britannia, rather than onboard ship — but this particular ring had clearly failed to remain under supervision. He made a mental note to have a few sharp words with the Boatswain, then glared at the two men.
“Here is my judgement,” he said, coldly. He scowled at the two men until they were shifting uncomfortably. “You will return all the money you won over the past two weeks, then report to the Boatswain for shit duties for the next week or so. And, while we are on this cruise, you will refrain from any further gambling until we return to port. Do you wish to dispute my judgement?”
He smiled, inwardly, at their expressions. They could, legally, ask the Captain to review the judgement. It had been known to happen, from time to time, but it was far more likely that the Captain would confirm the punishment and add a few refinements of his own. And it would end up in their permanent records, where it would be a black mark when they applied for promotion or mustang status.
“Out,” he ordered. “Fletcher, stay behind.”
He waited until the hatch had closed, then studied the younger crewwoman. She was a year or two younger than Midshipwoman Lopez; her file stated that she was the youngest child of a merchant family. James was surprised she'd fallen for such an obvious trick — non-money forfeits weren't covered by any rules — but this was her first cruise. And perhaps she was foolish enough to believe that the next round would allow her to make up her winnings.
James rolled his eyes as she twitched under his gaze. If the two men hadn't rigged the game, James would have eaten his uniform hat. She looked too sweet and innocent to deserve the chewing out she was going to get, but he pushed that aside and straightened up.
“Agreeing to that bet was stupid,” he said, sharply. “What were you thinking, precisely?”
“I ran out of money,” Sally said. She sounded on the verge of tears. “I…”
“So you agreed to a forfeit without checking the terms in advance?” James interrupted. “Or were you idiotic enough to believe you could win?”
He paused, long enough for her to pull herself together. “I know; idiotic gamblers will agree to idiotic forfeits. And I'm sure they would have pushed you into it if you tried to back out. But there are regulations against such matters, young lady, and you would have been left holding the bag. You could have been summarily charged with breaking those regulations and booted out of the navy.
“Which might not matter,” he added, “if we don't make it home.”
She flinched, again. “You will not recover whatever money you lost to them,” James said. “Instead, it will go into the kitty — which should win you some plaudits from your comrades who might otherwise be disappointed. And, for the rest of this cruise, you will be barred from any further gambling, with anyone.”
He paused. Chances were she no longer had the money to gamble with, whatever else happened. “I would suggest, in addition, that you never played for forfeits again,” he added. “You are not experienced enough to tell the difference between something tolerable and something that will pose a threat to good order.”
“Yes, sir,” Sally said. “Thank you, sir.”
James smiled. He had let her off lightly… but it was her first cruise. Maybe she’d learn a lesson, without needing to face more formal punishment.
“One other thing,” he added. He glanced down at the duty roster, then looked back at her suddenly nervous face. “I'm assigning you to work under Deputy Boatswain Harrison. You will find her a good mentor, if you learn to listen.”
He watched her go, then sighed. Seven hours to the jump into unexplored space, seven hours until they knew what was waiting on the other side… and he was busy dealing with disciplinary problems. But at least it was a distraction from worrying about the future. His lips quirked as he realised that was probably what the gamblers had had in mind, too.
But she had been idiotic, he knew. Naval life could be hard for a woman, particularly one who went out of her way to make it plain she was a woman. Poor Sally would have lost all the respect she’d earned if she'd gone through with the striptease, her status plunging instantly from fellow crewmember to whore. Even now, her status had probably been weakened. At least she’d shared in some of the punishment the two men had earned. It would save her from losing everything.
But enough of a punishment, he decided, ruefully. She didn't deserve additional punishment duties — shit duties, as they were called — let alone a public whipping. Hell, jokes aside, there had only ever been four since the Royal Navy had become a space-based service. It was far more common for someone to be dumped in the brig and then discharged as soon as the carrier returned to port. Maybe Sally could be transferred to another starship, one where her new reputation wouldn't follow her.
Shaking his head, he made a note in his private log of what had happened, then stood. The reporters had been badgering for a briefing and he couldn't put it off any longer. Maybe answering a few silly questions would help him relax.
And if they didn't, he told himself, he could always discuss the odds of them reaching home, once again. The reporters always found it alarming to hear the odds from a naval crewman.
“Kiev is in place, sir,” Farley reported. Ahead of them, the tramline glimmered on the display, waiting. “They’re reporting ready to jump.”
Ted sucked in a breath. They’d repaired the damage, reloaded the mass drivers and reorganised the starfighter squadrons. But they weren't at tip-top condition, he knew, and they wouldn't be until they gained an additional handful of starfighter pilots, as well as some additional repairs.
“Order them to jump,” he said, finally. He couldn't help a thrill of excitement, even though he knew it was dangerous. This was real exploration, the sort of work he'd hoped to do as a younger man. But instead he'd been assigned to Ark Royal… he shook his head, amused. It was funny how the world worked out, sometimes. “And then power up the Puller Drive.”
Kiev vanished from the display. Long seconds passed before she popped back into existence, signalling urgently. There was no alien fleet waiting for them, Ted saw to his relief, but there was a source of radio signals orbiting the G2 star. An alien settlement? There shouldn't be anything human on the other side of the tramline.
He smiled to himself. No one had explored the tramline, according to the latest records. In hindsight, that had clearly been a disastrous mistake. Who knew what precautions could have been taken if the aliens had been discovered before the first encounter? But now… One way or another, they were definitely going where no man had gone before.