discipline officer. As far as I see it, that includes heading off disciplinary problems
before
they become actual problems. Wouldn’t you agree?” Helstead asked. The sheathed blades came to a brief rest as she gave Ia a pointed look, though her toes continued to tap the air.
“Yes, I would,” Ia said. “But we honestly don’t have enough time on the schedule for a party before we leave dry dock. There is a compromise, though. How do you like the idea of dangling the carrot on the end of the stick?”
“Sir?” Helstead asked her, tilting her head a little in curiosity.
“Promise them a party
after
we leave dry dock. After we leave the Sol System. That should spur them on a bit longer in the cooperation and enthusiasm department. Wouldn’t you agree?” Ia asked, parroting her.
The shorter woman studied her for a moment, then started twirling her stilettos again. “I think that could work. I don’t suppose you’re going to make that announcement yourself?”
“I’d think it’d be a task more suited to an officerwith experience in balancing exhaustive expediency versus encouraging underlings toward their goals,” Ia countered wryly, eyeing Helstead’s wiggling boots for a moment. “That makes it your job. Give them vague assurances at first, then increase the specifics over the next two weeks. I’ll make the formal announcement at that time, but I figure you can lay the groundwork for it.”
The bejeweled blades fell still with a sigh, and her boots swung back down to the floor. “I suppose
planning
this party is also up to me, once you’ve waved your magic official-announcement hand?”
“Not the first one,” Ia said.
Opening a drawer in her desk, she fished out a datachip and tossed it at the other woman. Helstead caught it with her heavyworlder reflexes, one brow quirking. Her toes finally stopped tapping. Ia lifted her chin at the chip.
“You’ll find all the details you’ll need on that, along with the release codes for unlocking the rules and regulations for parties on board the
Hellfire
. They’re already loaded into each crew member’s Company Bible; they just haven’t been made available, yet. I didn’t want them distracted from their lessons by reading the, ah, unusual circumstances for such things.”
“They’re already in there, are they?” the lieutenant commander asked, glancing up from the datachip. She slotted the chip into her arm unit, though she didn’t open up the screen just yet. “Official Company rules for these onboard parties doesn’t make them sound very enjoyable.”
“We’ll be calling them Wakes, to go with the overall ‘Damned’ theme, but they’ll be as cheerful as we can make them. They’ll also run in twenty-four-hour segments,” Ia added, “to ensure each watch gets some time to relax and enjoy the party when they’re not sleeping or on duty—come
Hellfire
or
Damnation
, our ship will be manned at all times with rare exception—but we’ll squeeze in onboard Leave wherever possible and try to make it as relaxing as we can.”
“And by ‘we’ you, of course, mean ‘me,’” Helstead quipped dryly, toes resuming their silent rhythm.
“Oh, I fully expect the other officers to pitch in. Including myself. This first one has been preplanned, and there’s a list of themes and such,” Ia pointed out. “Things we can pull out of the onboard supplies. But I’m always open to ideas.”
“Even if they conflict with your precognition?” her 3rd Platoon officer asked, lifting a brow.
“Like all superiors, I may not always follow up on an idea for a particular instance, but I’m willing to listen whenever I have the time,” Ia conceded dryly. Mention of the T-word made her dip her head. “Of course, I’m not always going to have that time, which is why I think this is something you might enjoy handling. Now, is there anything else you wanted to discuss?”
Helstead frowned softly. “Yeah. Something Harper said. Something about
before
they become actual problems. Wouldn’t you agree?” Helstead asked. The sheathed blades came to a brief rest as she gave Ia a pointed look, though her toes continued to tap the air.
“Yes, I would,” Ia said. “But we honestly don’t have enough time on the schedule for a party before we leave dry dock. There is a compromise, though. How do you like the idea of dangling the carrot on the end of the stick?”
“Sir?” Helstead asked her, tilting her head a little in curiosity.
“Promise them a party
after
we leave dry dock. After we leave the Sol System. That should spur them on a bit longer in the cooperation and enthusiasm department. Wouldn’t you agree?” Ia asked, parroting her.
The shorter woman studied her for a moment, then started twirling her stilettos again. “I think that could work. I don’t suppose you’re going to make that announcement yourself?”
“I’d think it’d be a task more suited to an officerwith experience in balancing exhaustive expediency versus encouraging underlings toward their goals,” Ia countered wryly, eyeing Helstead’s wiggling boots for a moment. “That makes it your job. Give them vague assurances at first, then increase the specifics over the next two weeks. I’ll make the formal announcement at that time, but I figure you can lay the groundwork for it.”
The bejeweled blades fell still with a sigh, and her boots swung back down to the floor. “I suppose
planning
this party is also up to me, once you’ve waved your magic official-announcement hand?”
“Not the first one,” Ia said.
Opening a drawer in her desk, she fished out a datachip and tossed it at the other woman. Helstead caught it with her heavyworlder reflexes, one brow quirking. Her toes finally stopped tapping. Ia lifted her chin at the chip.
“You’ll find all the details you’ll need on that, along with the release codes for unlocking the rules and regulations for parties on board the
Hellfire
. They’re already loaded into each crew member’s Company Bible; they just haven’t been made available, yet. I didn’t want them distracted from their lessons by reading the, ah, unusual circumstances for such things.”
“They’re already in there, are they?” the lieutenant commander asked, glancing up from the datachip. She slotted the chip into her arm unit, though she didn’t open up the screen just yet. “Official Company rules for these onboard parties doesn’t make them sound very enjoyable.”
“We’ll be calling them Wakes, to go with the overall ‘Damned’ theme, but they’ll be as cheerful as we can make them. They’ll also run in twenty-four-hour segments,” Ia added, “to ensure each watch gets some time to relax and enjoy the party when they’re not sleeping or on duty—come
Hellfire
or
Damnation
, our ship will be manned at all times with rare exception—but we’ll squeeze in onboard Leave wherever possible and try to make it as relaxing as we can.”
“And by ‘we’ you, of course, mean ‘me,’” Helstead quipped dryly, toes resuming their silent rhythm.
“Oh, I fully expect the other officers to pitch in. Including myself. This first one has been preplanned, and there’s a list of themes and such,” Ia pointed out. “Things we can pull out of the onboard supplies. But I’m always open to ideas.”
“Even if they conflict with your precognition?” her 3rd Platoon officer asked, lifting a brow.
“Like all superiors, I may not always follow up on an idea for a particular instance, but I’m willing to listen whenever I have the time,” Ia conceded dryly. Mention of the T-word made her dip her head. “Of course, I’m not always going to have that time, which is why I think this is something you might enjoy handling. Now, is there anything else you wanted to discuss?”
Helstead frowned softly. “Yeah. Something Harper said. Something about
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