"But you couldn't do anything to help them." Jen's mouth opened for a moment, then closed. "Do you think perhaps you focused so intently on saving those sailors with you because that was something you could do?"
Jen finally looked fully over at Paul, her eyes wide, then back at the chaplain. "That was all I could do at the time," she agreed in a soft voice.
"All you could do. You wanted to do more?"
"Yes! Of course! But I couldn't even get out through the damned internal airlock! And when I wanted to find another route forward I had all those sailors looking to me for help. To me. I couldn't go forward until I did everything I could for them. I had to do that."
The chaplain nodded. "Yes. You did. You couldn't go to try to help the others in engineering because those sailors needed you."
"That's what I said. Ma'am."
"And you learned later that there never was anything you could've done. They were already dead." Jen flushed, though with anger or other emotion Paul couldn't tell. "You were able to save those sailors, though. You made the right decision."
Jen looked down, then back up as she suddenly grinned tightly. "Yes. Someone advised me I should try to focus on what I could and did do and not on what I couldn't have done."
Chaplain Hughes' eyebrows rose and she looked over at Paul. "You told her that?"
Paul nodded. "I received that same advice some time ago, after a fatality on my ship."
"It's good advice. You talked to a grief counselor?"
"No, ma'am. A supply officer."
"One with a more than adequate supply of wisdom, it appears! Jen, are you having difficulty working?"
She shrugged. "I haven't had much to work on."
"What you have been doing. Have you been able to do it?"
"Of course I have."
"You're completing tasks assigned to you?"
Jen glared at the chaplain. "I always complete tasks assigned to me."
"Do you dream about the explosion? About those events?"
"No."
"Nothing? No flashbacks?"
" No."
Chaplain Hughes looked over at Paul, then back at Jen. "There's a time for strength and a time for confronting problems."
"I don't have any problems."
"I understand your father is commanding officer of the Mahan?"
"Yes."
"And the Mahan just departed on a long patrol. Your mother is…?"
"Dead."
"I'm sorry." The chaplain leaned forward. "Your father a commanding officer and your mother dead. You must be pretty tough."
Jen shrugged again. "I'm nothing special."
"You saved, let's see, twenty-one sailors in the aft section of the Maury. That sounds pretty special to me."
Jen sat silent for a moment. "Anyone else could've done the same."
"Maybe. But the fact that you did it counts." Jen didn't answer. "Listen, Jen, this is just a first preliminary session-"
"I don't need any more sessions."
"You'll get them, anyway. Courtesy of the U.S. Navy."
"I don't — "
"Did I mention the sessions are mandatory? By order of the Fleet Commander?" Jen subsided, looking sulky. "It won't be that bad, Jen."
"I have other things to do, ma'am."
"Mary. Sadly, not enough other things. Maybe you won't need much help. But my job is to see if you do and help you through any rough patches."
Jen leaned forward, her face earnest. "I help myself. I mean that. I can't go running for a shoulder to cry on whenever things get tough. I have to be able to work through it myself."
"You can't be weak, in other words."
"I didn't say that."
"This isn't about being strong or weak, Jen. It's about being human. You've been subjected to tremendous stresses. If you were a piece of this ship and had been stressed, you might need to be reinforced. Not because you weren't strong, but because even the strongest can be overstressed. Do you see?"
Jen nodded with visible reluctance. "I honestly do not believe I need reinforcement."
"I believe you. Let me do my job, though." Hughes checked her watch. "Too many people to see and too little time. I'll schedule the follow-up sessions and make sure you're notified." She pointed to Paul. "Use him."
Jen couldn't help smiling. "I do."
"I didn't mean it that way. Though if it helps… no, just remember you've got someone to confide in, someone who won't think you're not strong if you need to talk." Hughes looked at Paul. "Right?" Paul nodded. "You've got my contact information, Jen. I'm always available, too. But I have to leave now. Paul, could I see you for a moment?"
He followed Commander Hughes out of the stateroom. She studied him for a long moment. "Paul, I think you understand Jen's in serious denial about the effect this has had on her."
"That's who she is, ma'am."
"Mary! You line officers… I can tell Jen's like that. She never admits weakness, does she? Well, you watch her and you contact me if you think I need to know something. At some point Jen's going to confront her feelings, and somebody'll need to be there for her."
"What feelings? Do you know?"
"Not for certain. In a case like this survivor's guilt is common. 'Why did I survive when others died?'"
"She said something like that. The first time I saw her after the accident."
"She did? Then she's at least admitted to that feeling. But there'll likely be more. Feeling she should've prevented it, done something, somehow. She's maintaining a protective shell of being professional and controlled because that's what she thinks the world wants to see, but there's got to be a lot of doubts inside."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Mary!' Chaplain Hughes walked off, shaking her head.
Chapter Seven
Carl Meadows didn't seem to have changed much as he grinned out from the display screen at Paul's desk. Paul hadn't expected a video letter from his old shipmate, but it'd been a pleasant surprise. "Greetings from the Pentagon, Paul. Long time no see. I miss you guys." Carl's smile faded. "Truth is, I sent this because I heard about the Maury and you guys. That must've been real tough. Thank God Jen made it okay. Just wanted you guys to know I'm still thinking about you."
Meadows ran one hand through his hair. "There's been a whole lot of running around in the Pentagon. Admirals and generals bouncing off the walls right and left. All those stars in motion at once reminds me of maneuvering the Merry Mike. Anyway, I get the real feeling they're trying to put a lid on all this. It's no secret that we're not really ready for a war in space with the SASALs, and I don't think they're really ready for a war with us. Nobody wants to start shooting at each other down here on Earth, either. We're seeing a lot of stuff about cooling things down, confidence-building measures and junk like that. There's going to be a lot of pressure on the investigators to figure out what happened to the Maury as fast as possible, and I gather all the military and political brass are keeping their fingers crossed that whatever it was didn't involve the South Asians."
Carl rambled on some more, with Paul enjoying listening to his friend again, then closed his letter with a list of people to say hi to on the Michaelson.
Colleen Kilgary stuck her head in his stateroom. "Did you hear?"
"Hear what?"
"Preliminary investigation results released."
Carl had been right. Given the damage to the Maury, that was a very quick announcement. "What did they say?"
"Bomb definitely ruled out. No residue of any kind that'd be consistent with that."
"That should calm the war talk a little."
"Also, external sabotage ruled out. The Maury 's safety interfaces would've kept any software or hardware problems from producing that kind of catastrophic failure of so many components in engineering."
"Wow." Paul stared at his now-blank display. "Are they saying what they think did happen?"
"Not yet. But I thought you'd like to tell Jen, just in case she hasn't heard."