Free Stepping Up by Robert Culp Page A

“Please do, I’m Ron,
this is Johan.  Is that a stout? That’s an unusual drink for a woman.” 
    Ron looks like Joe Average, but Johan is definitely making a
fashion statement.  His scalp is shaved except for a strip of hair two inches
wide that creeps from his eyebrows to the base of his skull.  And the shade of
yellow dye doesn’t occur in nature, at least not among mammals. He snips at
Ron, “Like you would know anything about what women like.  Hi Sonia, welcome to Night Searcher . I suppose you came aboard at Tammuz?”  I sit, they sit.
    “I did.  I’m in the Engineering department.  And I like
stouts.  I think they are best when warm. I find it brings out the flavors to
their maximum potential.  Anybody can drink them cold.  So what’s life like on Night
Searcher? ”
    “It’s pretty exciting, actually,” Ron says. “We do a lot of
different missions. I handle the robots and targeting systems. Johan works on
the computer displays and the occasional auxiliary system here and there.”
    Johan adds, “You’re likely to see me anywhere.  I work for
Controls And Instrumentation.  Except for robotics.  Those people are just too
cranky.” Ron makes a face at him.
    “Well, if they break or need upgrades you may or may not see
my smiling face.  Help a sister out, just looking around, I see more than the
occasional infantry type. Does the ship do a lot of fighting?”  Another group
of Troopers has come in.  Before Ron can answer, one of the biggest stops by
our table.
    In a deep booming voice, he says, “Ron and Johan, my
favorite butt-buddies! Who’s the hot bimbo?”  Bimbo? Oh, no he didn’t.  
I fix him with a withering glare. To his credit, he returns it just as evenly.
    “Beat it Jackson.  Don’t make me call your sergeant again.”
Johan hasn’t yelled. He hasn’t physically done anything even remotely
threatening.  He barely looked up from his drink.  But the Trooper raises his
hands, backs away and quickly joins his friends.  What happened when he did call the sergeant? I can’t help but wonder.
    As though nothing happened, Ron says, “Some fights, maybe
more than our share.  But mostly salvage missions that no one else wants to
take on.”
    “Or can.  Some of our missions are pretty tough nuts to
crack.”  Johan adds.  “Wasn’t that how we lost our last Chief Sergeant?”
    Ron nods.
    “Why do some people have ranks or titles but others don’t?”
I ask.
    “The Captain and some of his senior staff have titles.
Commander this, Lieutenant that.” Ron explains, “The Troopers have a
military-ish system, so they use ranks.  Trooper, Sergeant, Chief Sergeant, but
they try to keep it minimal.  For them it’s a sort of command and control
thing.  For us lowly star-faring workaday types, it’s more functional than
anything.  A department head will use the title ‘chief.’  Or educational
titles, like Dr. Sinnair, your boss.  He is the number one engineer aboard, so
he gets the title ‘Chief Engineer.’”
    Johan points a thumb at the retreating Trooper. “Oh, and
don’t mind Jackson, he’s as dumb a grunt as they come,” he opines. “But he’ll
do anything for you.”
    “Granted,” Ron chimes in. “Of course, you’ll have to listen
to him brag about coming to your rescue.  Often.”
    “It’s the curse of being a pretty girl.  There’s always some
knuckle-dragger waiting around to make life miserable.  Anyway, it sounds like
it’s going to be an adventure.  Thanks for the company, boys, but it’s time for
me to get some shuteye. Catch you later?”
    Both of them stand. “I hope so, maybe we could discuss super
conductor theories over a cold beer one day?” asks Ron.
    “Or which Troopers aren’t attached.” Johan catches the
immediate glare from Ron. “What?”

6 SAXON
    “Engineering,” Aria’s voice is in my earpiece, “we are
reading a temperature fluctuation among the Transit drives.”
    I see it, Aria . I do some quick