Post by Lorpius Prime on Jun 23, 2009 4:07:53 GMT -5
Xi Feng had disciplined subordinates before. She'd been the Executive Officer aboard two ships before receiving her first command, and that was not a position than an Earth Fleet Officer could survive without having to discipline spacers. It was simply a part of the service, and Xi Feng had grown used to it.
But Xi Feng had never before had one of her subordinates arrested. No, Lieutenant Commander Devin Gordon, captain of the Propellant Tanker EFA Douala, was the very first person to receive that particular dishonor. Xi Feng would much rather have gone her entire career without having to give such an order, a fact which only added to her fury towards Lieutenant Commander Gordon.
Xi Feng clenched her fists together as she thought about it. Earth Fleet was not like the wet navies of Earth. Despite its immense size, the Uruguay carried a smaller crew than the average wet-navy frigate. Manning the ship was not a labor-intensive operation, but required extremely well-trained and intelligent personnel. It was not a job for the mediocre; and such people did not even get into the Academy. Those who graduated as officers like Xi Feng had a degree that was more valuable than a PhD from any top university.
In short, Earth Fleet was not a place for screw-ups. The men and women who wore the uniform were both highly capable and highly motivated. They were still human, and could still grow frustrated in the cramped conditions of space travel, and so disciplinary actions were sometimes necessary. But outright criminal activities were almost unheard of.
Which was why Xi Feng had been ready to personally throw Lieutenant Commander Gordon out of an airlock when one of the Douala's assistant engineers revealed that all three of the tanker's point defense laser pods had been disassembled and sold by some of the ship's senior officers. The lasers had been replaced with Bat-made devices bought on the civilian market. Those had performed just fine in demonstrations during routine inspections. But when the Douala attempted to activate all three lasers simultaneously for a combat exercise, they fried the point-defense systems. One had melted its entire mounting into useless slag.
Without point defenses, the Douala was not capable of independent operations, but needed to be screened by other units at all times. Impacts from space debris presented a particular hazard to the Douala, as a tanker, because of the danger of explosion if one of the high-pressure propellant tanks were compromised.
It was a headache that Task Force One didn't need, and Xi Feng hoped that she would not have to put up with it for long. For the moment, Xi Feng had put Lieutenant Colonel Borzakov's marines on board to arrest and supervise the command crew. The ship was now being captained by a Lieutenant Fenwicke, formerly the XO of the Douala's sister ship, the EFA Mumbai. Once the Task Force reached Mars, however, Xi Feng intended to replace the Douala with another tanker from Third Fleet. So far MarsCOM had only made noncommittal noises about her request, but Xi Feng was not departing for Uranus with one of her ships only partially functional and manned by a demoralized crew. She'd steal a replacement before that.
"Commodore?"
Xi Feng blinked and jerked her head upright. Colleen Muyskens, her flag adjutant, was standing on the other side of her desk, looking worried. Xi Feng scolded herself; she didn't usually let herself drift off like that in the presence of others, least of all subordinates. It was poor leadership.
"Yes, Lieutenant?" Xi Feng asked, quickly composing her expression.
"Sir, Ambassador Molinas still wants a meeting with you. I told him that I could answer any questions he has about the exercise, but he said that he wants to discuss your 'procedures', not the results of the exercise. He said that he'll call again."
Xi Feng frowned, "Do you know what he wants?"
"I… my impression is that the Ambassador is annoyed that he wasn't warned about the exercise. He thinks that they're diplomatically unhelpful."
"And did you tell the Ambassador to keep his nose out of Fleet business?"
"N—no sir!" Muyskens looked horrified. "I didn't think it was my place to say anything."
Xi Feng suppressed a smile, "It isn't, Lieutenant. I'll speak with Ambassador Molinas myself. Inform me if he does call again."
"Ok—I mean, aye, sir."
This time Xi Feng did smile, "What do you think of your assignment to Task Force One so far, Lieutenant?"
Muyskens hesitated, "It's interesting, sir."
"Speak candidly, Lieutenant."
"It's… well it's not what I expected, sir."
"What were you expecting?"
"I suppose I had just thought I would see more of the Tadpoles, but you've kept them pretty isolated on their ship and the Barn Swallow."
"Do you disagree with that policy?"
The Lieutenant opened her mouth, and then shut it again. She tried again, more slowly, "I guess I just don't know your reasons, sir. If we're part of a diplomatic outreach to the Tadpoles, shouldn't we be a little more engaging towards them?"
Xi Feng nodded, "We are a tool of diplomacy, Lieutenant Muyskens, you're correct. But Earth isn't signing an alliance with the Tadpoles; we're making a mutually beneficial exchange. Our immediate job is discourage anyone from stopping that exchange, either the other aliens or the Tadpoles themselves. We're a show of force, not an olive branch, and we're being sent out to demonstrate that we're not the Tadpoles friends. They need our help, and we're being generous enough to grant it to them."
Muyskens shifted her weight uncomfortably, "I don't think Ambassador Molinas feels the same way. Sir."
"I think you're right, Lieutenant," Xi Feng smiled pleasantly. "But he is simply our public face for the Tadpoles. I will consider any advice he offers, but I am commanding this mission. Until my own superiors overrule me, it will be conducted according to my own best judgment."
"Yes, sir."
Still smiling, Xi Feng met Muyskens eyes for a moment, "I don't mind if you disagree with me, Lieutenant, so long as you do obey my instructions. This is your first real assignment, you're supposed to have a lot of questions, and it's the duty of the other officers to help you understand the answers."
Xi Feng's PDA buzzed on her desk, and she frowned. "Time permitting, of course."
She picked up the device, but it was just a status alert. Engineering was sealing and depressurizing a service compartment on the lower levels to perform some maintenance that Xi Feng had already approved. She put the PDA back down on the desk.
"Any other questions, then, Lieutenant?"
"No sir, I think I understand a little better now."
"All right, then. Next I want you to get in touch with Colonel Borzakov and Commander Mendelssohn over on the Archimedes. See if they've gotten anywhere on rebuilding the Zhukov. I'm sure that if they do, it'd help to have Third Fleet's repair facilities on hand, so we need to get moving."
"Aye sir," Musykens saluted.
Xi Feng gave her PDA a dark look, "Meantime, I'll be explaining what I've just told you to Ambassador Molinas. Dismissed, Lieutenant."
"Hello, Commodore," Pascual accepted the call without looking immediately up from his PDA. It wasn't actually all that critical that he finish reading the e-mail before speaking to Commodore Lee. Rather, Pascual wanted to set the tone for their conversation. Commodore Lee struck him as the type of person for whom reason was less important than power in a discussion. If he came across as weak, she'd try to walk all over him regardless of what he wanted from her.
"Lieutenant Muyskens said that you wanted to speak with me, Ambassador Molinas," the Commodore's voice on the speaker was cool.
"Yes, I did," Pascual said. He counted to ten in his head before setting the PDA on his desk and turning to the face on the computer screen. "I wanted to discuss the matter of your train—"
Pascual choked on his words. For a second or two, he just stared at the screen.
The only other time Pascual had seen Commodore Lee, she had actually been standing in front of him. Then the difference in their height had been obvious, she was almost a third of a meter shorter than Pascual. She'd also had her hair tightly bound against the microgravity on Quito station.
Now, however, the Commodore's dark hair hung loose over her shoulders and her height was concealed by the angle of the camera on her face. She had dark spots under her eyes from working too long and she was glaring at Pascual with an expression of poorly-contained irritation. Pascual's stomach tightened.
She looked like Sonia. Pascual couldn't count the number times he'd seen that same expression on his girlfriend's face. She'd worn it whenever he called because she was working too late at the office, or when her bosses were trying to schedule her for another conference at the Miami headquarters.
The shock of seeing Sonia in the Commodore's image was almost too much for Pascual. He'd been trying not to think about how he'd missed her funeral yesterday. He'd been trying not to think about how—justly—furious Mrs. Basurto had been when Pascual told her that he wouldn't be there. He'd been trying not to think about how he couldn't help but feel that Sonia's mother was right when she went so far as to blame Pascual for her daughter's death.
Pascual was just starting to worry that he was going to vomit when a burst of warmth struck his middle, and he felt the muscles of his abdomen unclench. He seemed to have triggered a dose of anti-nausea meds from his implants.
"Ambassador?"
The sound brought Pascual back to himself. As angry with Pascual as Sonia might have appeared sometimes, her voice was always warm and comforting to his mind. But Commodore Lee's voice was just as cold and hard-edged as her expression. Now that Pascual had looked at her face for a moment, too, the resemblance to Sonia was less apparent. Yes, she had roughly the same color hair and an overworked look in her eyes, but those eyes were the wrong shape entirely, and her skin was much too light.
Pascual clicked his tongue. No, she really wasn't much like Sonia at all. Pascual must be rather tired himself to have had such a thought.
"Excuse me, Commodore," he answered, recovering, "I wished to talk about your training procedures for the Task Force."
"Yes, and I'm curious as to why your concern couldn't be handled by Lieutenant Commander Sykes or my own adjutant."
Pascual ignored her dismissive tone, "I've already spoken with both of them, but captain Sykes advised me that I would need to contact you about changing training procedure."
"Are you unhappy with the way the task force is performing its duties, Ambassador?"
"Yes I am," Pascual said. He held up a hand to pre-empt the expected protest, but the Commodore remained silent, waiting for him to continue. "I'm sure you've been following standard Fleet procedure and doing an excellent job of it, Commodore. But I think it would be best if you could make some special allowances because of the diplomatic nature of this mission."
"What did you have in mind?"
"I'd simply like the Barn Swallow exempted from any more spur-of-the-moment combat exercises or maneuvers. Our guests were rather startled when captain Sykes had to sound the shipboard alarms. And that situation was only compounded by the fact that I myself had no idea what was happening and could not contact any of the ship's officers for some time. I need to have the Tadpoles' confidence if I'm going to do my job properly, which means I need to be on top of situations like that."
"I understand your concern, Ambassador, but I'm afraid that I cannot change my training methods for your own convenience. The entire reason my warships are here is to protect the colony ships and your transport. If you aren't part of our exercises, we're going to do a poor job of fulfilling that responsibility."
"I'm not suggesting that you don't train, Commodore. I'd simply like to avoid the appearance of an emergency aboard this ship unless there really is one."
"The best way for my spacers to prepare for unexpected crises is to confront them in simulation. I'm rather less concerned about frightening the Tadpole delegation than I am about allowing them all to be killed because their escorts can't coordinate a point-defense effort in a hurry."
Pascual huffed involuntarily, "I'm grateful for your diligence, Commodore. But, in all seriousness, if this Task Force is attacked by aliens, do you really think your ships will be able to fight them off?"
The look Commodore Lee gave him was so dark that Pascual could barely control his urge to swallow. She replied after a moment's pause, picking her words slowly, sharpening each one before delivery.
"You had better hope that we can, Ambassador. That Bats have already made two attempts to sabotage this exchange. I do not care to speculate about how the Charterlings and Kyhyex will respond when we attempt to pass through their patrols."
"The Tadpoles are friendly with the Charterlings."
"And we're friendly with the Bats. I expect that you already understand how these relationships make our current negotiations more dangerous, Ambassador," she let Pascual's title linger between them for a moment. If the Bats and Charterlings have been trying to fit both of our species into the alignments of their war, then this operation runs the risk of turning either or both of them further against us. The situation is neither stable nor predictable and I will not put us in greater danger by ignoring that reality."
Pascual set his teeth. He did understand the implications of the situation Commodore Lee was referring to her, and didn't require the lecture. Even so, he was annoyed at the way she had been able to twist his attitude into making him sound complacent.
"I have no argument with your interpretation of the diplomatic situation, Commodore," Pascual said slowly. "I am merely requesting a slight modification of the task force's exercise procedures to better allow me to deal with that diplomatic situation. I do not believe that the change I have suggested would compromise your ability to ward off—"
"I believe that it would, Ambassador. And I'm afraid that it is my opinion which matters in this regard. I have no interest in further discussion of the issue, is there anything else?"
Pascual blinked, this was a level of rudeness that he would not have thought possible.
"E—excuse me?" he demanded, incredulous.
"I have made my decision, Ambassador. Is there anything else you wish to bring to my attention?"
Pascual stared at the screen. How was he supposed to respond to that?
"If there is nothing else, Ambassador," she said in an infuriatingly polite tone, "then I'd like to get back to my duties. I'm sure you have responsibilities of your own."
"Yes," Pascual said, narrowing his eyes, "it appears that I do."
"Good day to you then, Ambassador," was her curt reply. The connection died.
Pascual stared at the closed call for several seconds while opening and closing his right fist. He had dealt with plenty of difficult people before, and he usually had no problem just working around them. But Commodore Lee seemed to be going out of her way to make his life difficult, and without any apparent justification. Ignoring her wasn't an option either, his current assignment made it necessary for the two of them to work together. Indeed, the success of the mission made it vital that they do so. This put Pascual in a rather difficult position if he was to deal with their conflict.
As a rule, Pascual eschewed resorting to politics. The fact that most everyone expected him always to pull strings in his own favor had made it a matter of personal pride. His friends and family liked to tease him about it, but avoiding dirty tricks for petty gains allowed him a peace of mind that he treasured.
Sometimes, however, politics were necessary.
Pascual called up his e-mail program.
But Xi Feng had never before had one of her subordinates arrested. No, Lieutenant Commander Devin Gordon, captain of the Propellant Tanker EFA Douala, was the very first person to receive that particular dishonor. Xi Feng would much rather have gone her entire career without having to give such an order, a fact which only added to her fury towards Lieutenant Commander Gordon.
Xi Feng clenched her fists together as she thought about it. Earth Fleet was not like the wet navies of Earth. Despite its immense size, the Uruguay carried a smaller crew than the average wet-navy frigate. Manning the ship was not a labor-intensive operation, but required extremely well-trained and intelligent personnel. It was not a job for the mediocre; and such people did not even get into the Academy. Those who graduated as officers like Xi Feng had a degree that was more valuable than a PhD from any top university.
In short, Earth Fleet was not a place for screw-ups. The men and women who wore the uniform were both highly capable and highly motivated. They were still human, and could still grow frustrated in the cramped conditions of space travel, and so disciplinary actions were sometimes necessary. But outright criminal activities were almost unheard of.
Which was why Xi Feng had been ready to personally throw Lieutenant Commander Gordon out of an airlock when one of the Douala's assistant engineers revealed that all three of the tanker's point defense laser pods had been disassembled and sold by some of the ship's senior officers. The lasers had been replaced with Bat-made devices bought on the civilian market. Those had performed just fine in demonstrations during routine inspections. But when the Douala attempted to activate all three lasers simultaneously for a combat exercise, they fried the point-defense systems. One had melted its entire mounting into useless slag.
Without point defenses, the Douala was not capable of independent operations, but needed to be screened by other units at all times. Impacts from space debris presented a particular hazard to the Douala, as a tanker, because of the danger of explosion if one of the high-pressure propellant tanks were compromised.
It was a headache that Task Force One didn't need, and Xi Feng hoped that she would not have to put up with it for long. For the moment, Xi Feng had put Lieutenant Colonel Borzakov's marines on board to arrest and supervise the command crew. The ship was now being captained by a Lieutenant Fenwicke, formerly the XO of the Douala's sister ship, the EFA Mumbai. Once the Task Force reached Mars, however, Xi Feng intended to replace the Douala with another tanker from Third Fleet. So far MarsCOM had only made noncommittal noises about her request, but Xi Feng was not departing for Uranus with one of her ships only partially functional and manned by a demoralized crew. She'd steal a replacement before that.
"Commodore?"
Xi Feng blinked and jerked her head upright. Colleen Muyskens, her flag adjutant, was standing on the other side of her desk, looking worried. Xi Feng scolded herself; she didn't usually let herself drift off like that in the presence of others, least of all subordinates. It was poor leadership.
"Yes, Lieutenant?" Xi Feng asked, quickly composing her expression.
"Sir, Ambassador Molinas still wants a meeting with you. I told him that I could answer any questions he has about the exercise, but he said that he wants to discuss your 'procedures', not the results of the exercise. He said that he'll call again."
Xi Feng frowned, "Do you know what he wants?"
"I… my impression is that the Ambassador is annoyed that he wasn't warned about the exercise. He thinks that they're diplomatically unhelpful."
"And did you tell the Ambassador to keep his nose out of Fleet business?"
"N—no sir!" Muyskens looked horrified. "I didn't think it was my place to say anything."
Xi Feng suppressed a smile, "It isn't, Lieutenant. I'll speak with Ambassador Molinas myself. Inform me if he does call again."
"Ok—I mean, aye, sir."
This time Xi Feng did smile, "What do you think of your assignment to Task Force One so far, Lieutenant?"
Muyskens hesitated, "It's interesting, sir."
"Speak candidly, Lieutenant."
"It's… well it's not what I expected, sir."
"What were you expecting?"
"I suppose I had just thought I would see more of the Tadpoles, but you've kept them pretty isolated on their ship and the Barn Swallow."
"Do you disagree with that policy?"
The Lieutenant opened her mouth, and then shut it again. She tried again, more slowly, "I guess I just don't know your reasons, sir. If we're part of a diplomatic outreach to the Tadpoles, shouldn't we be a little more engaging towards them?"
Xi Feng nodded, "We are a tool of diplomacy, Lieutenant Muyskens, you're correct. But Earth isn't signing an alliance with the Tadpoles; we're making a mutually beneficial exchange. Our immediate job is discourage anyone from stopping that exchange, either the other aliens or the Tadpoles themselves. We're a show of force, not an olive branch, and we're being sent out to demonstrate that we're not the Tadpoles friends. They need our help, and we're being generous enough to grant it to them."
Muyskens shifted her weight uncomfortably, "I don't think Ambassador Molinas feels the same way. Sir."
"I think you're right, Lieutenant," Xi Feng smiled pleasantly. "But he is simply our public face for the Tadpoles. I will consider any advice he offers, but I am commanding this mission. Until my own superiors overrule me, it will be conducted according to my own best judgment."
"Yes, sir."
Still smiling, Xi Feng met Muyskens eyes for a moment, "I don't mind if you disagree with me, Lieutenant, so long as you do obey my instructions. This is your first real assignment, you're supposed to have a lot of questions, and it's the duty of the other officers to help you understand the answers."
Xi Feng's PDA buzzed on her desk, and she frowned. "Time permitting, of course."
She picked up the device, but it was just a status alert. Engineering was sealing and depressurizing a service compartment on the lower levels to perform some maintenance that Xi Feng had already approved. She put the PDA back down on the desk.
"Any other questions, then, Lieutenant?"
"No sir, I think I understand a little better now."
"All right, then. Next I want you to get in touch with Colonel Borzakov and Commander Mendelssohn over on the Archimedes. See if they've gotten anywhere on rebuilding the Zhukov. I'm sure that if they do, it'd help to have Third Fleet's repair facilities on hand, so we need to get moving."
"Aye sir," Musykens saluted.
Xi Feng gave her PDA a dark look, "Meantime, I'll be explaining what I've just told you to Ambassador Molinas. Dismissed, Lieutenant."
* * *
"Hello, Commodore," Pascual accepted the call without looking immediately up from his PDA. It wasn't actually all that critical that he finish reading the e-mail before speaking to Commodore Lee. Rather, Pascual wanted to set the tone for their conversation. Commodore Lee struck him as the type of person for whom reason was less important than power in a discussion. If he came across as weak, she'd try to walk all over him regardless of what he wanted from her.
"Lieutenant Muyskens said that you wanted to speak with me, Ambassador Molinas," the Commodore's voice on the speaker was cool.
"Yes, I did," Pascual said. He counted to ten in his head before setting the PDA on his desk and turning to the face on the computer screen. "I wanted to discuss the matter of your train—"
Pascual choked on his words. For a second or two, he just stared at the screen.
The only other time Pascual had seen Commodore Lee, she had actually been standing in front of him. Then the difference in their height had been obvious, she was almost a third of a meter shorter than Pascual. She'd also had her hair tightly bound against the microgravity on Quito station.
Now, however, the Commodore's dark hair hung loose over her shoulders and her height was concealed by the angle of the camera on her face. She had dark spots under her eyes from working too long and she was glaring at Pascual with an expression of poorly-contained irritation. Pascual's stomach tightened.
She looked like Sonia. Pascual couldn't count the number times he'd seen that same expression on his girlfriend's face. She'd worn it whenever he called because she was working too late at the office, or when her bosses were trying to schedule her for another conference at the Miami headquarters.
The shock of seeing Sonia in the Commodore's image was almost too much for Pascual. He'd been trying not to think about how he'd missed her funeral yesterday. He'd been trying not to think about how—justly—furious Mrs. Basurto had been when Pascual told her that he wouldn't be there. He'd been trying not to think about how he couldn't help but feel that Sonia's mother was right when she went so far as to blame Pascual for her daughter's death.
Pascual was just starting to worry that he was going to vomit when a burst of warmth struck his middle, and he felt the muscles of his abdomen unclench. He seemed to have triggered a dose of anti-nausea meds from his implants.
"Ambassador?"
The sound brought Pascual back to himself. As angry with Pascual as Sonia might have appeared sometimes, her voice was always warm and comforting to his mind. But Commodore Lee's voice was just as cold and hard-edged as her expression. Now that Pascual had looked at her face for a moment, too, the resemblance to Sonia was less apparent. Yes, she had roughly the same color hair and an overworked look in her eyes, but those eyes were the wrong shape entirely, and her skin was much too light.
Pascual clicked his tongue. No, she really wasn't much like Sonia at all. Pascual must be rather tired himself to have had such a thought.
"Excuse me, Commodore," he answered, recovering, "I wished to talk about your training procedures for the Task Force."
"Yes, and I'm curious as to why your concern couldn't be handled by Lieutenant Commander Sykes or my own adjutant."
Pascual ignored her dismissive tone, "I've already spoken with both of them, but captain Sykes advised me that I would need to contact you about changing training procedure."
"Are you unhappy with the way the task force is performing its duties, Ambassador?"
"Yes I am," Pascual said. He held up a hand to pre-empt the expected protest, but the Commodore remained silent, waiting for him to continue. "I'm sure you've been following standard Fleet procedure and doing an excellent job of it, Commodore. But I think it would be best if you could make some special allowances because of the diplomatic nature of this mission."
"What did you have in mind?"
"I'd simply like the Barn Swallow exempted from any more spur-of-the-moment combat exercises or maneuvers. Our guests were rather startled when captain Sykes had to sound the shipboard alarms. And that situation was only compounded by the fact that I myself had no idea what was happening and could not contact any of the ship's officers for some time. I need to have the Tadpoles' confidence if I'm going to do my job properly, which means I need to be on top of situations like that."
"I understand your concern, Ambassador, but I'm afraid that I cannot change my training methods for your own convenience. The entire reason my warships are here is to protect the colony ships and your transport. If you aren't part of our exercises, we're going to do a poor job of fulfilling that responsibility."
"I'm not suggesting that you don't train, Commodore. I'd simply like to avoid the appearance of an emergency aboard this ship unless there really is one."
"The best way for my spacers to prepare for unexpected crises is to confront them in simulation. I'm rather less concerned about frightening the Tadpole delegation than I am about allowing them all to be killed because their escorts can't coordinate a point-defense effort in a hurry."
Pascual huffed involuntarily, "I'm grateful for your diligence, Commodore. But, in all seriousness, if this Task Force is attacked by aliens, do you really think your ships will be able to fight them off?"
The look Commodore Lee gave him was so dark that Pascual could barely control his urge to swallow. She replied after a moment's pause, picking her words slowly, sharpening each one before delivery.
"You had better hope that we can, Ambassador. That Bats have already made two attempts to sabotage this exchange. I do not care to speculate about how the Charterlings and Kyhyex will respond when we attempt to pass through their patrols."
"The Tadpoles are friendly with the Charterlings."
"And we're friendly with the Bats. I expect that you already understand how these relationships make our current negotiations more dangerous, Ambassador," she let Pascual's title linger between them for a moment. If the Bats and Charterlings have been trying to fit both of our species into the alignments of their war, then this operation runs the risk of turning either or both of them further against us. The situation is neither stable nor predictable and I will not put us in greater danger by ignoring that reality."
Pascual set his teeth. He did understand the implications of the situation Commodore Lee was referring to her, and didn't require the lecture. Even so, he was annoyed at the way she had been able to twist his attitude into making him sound complacent.
"I have no argument with your interpretation of the diplomatic situation, Commodore," Pascual said slowly. "I am merely requesting a slight modification of the task force's exercise procedures to better allow me to deal with that diplomatic situation. I do not believe that the change I have suggested would compromise your ability to ward off—"
"I believe that it would, Ambassador. And I'm afraid that it is my opinion which matters in this regard. I have no interest in further discussion of the issue, is there anything else?"
Pascual blinked, this was a level of rudeness that he would not have thought possible.
"E—excuse me?" he demanded, incredulous.
"I have made my decision, Ambassador. Is there anything else you wish to bring to my attention?"
Pascual stared at the screen. How was he supposed to respond to that?
"If there is nothing else, Ambassador," she said in an infuriatingly polite tone, "then I'd like to get back to my duties. I'm sure you have responsibilities of your own."
"Yes," Pascual said, narrowing his eyes, "it appears that I do."
"Good day to you then, Ambassador," was her curt reply. The connection died.
Pascual stared at the closed call for several seconds while opening and closing his right fist. He had dealt with plenty of difficult people before, and he usually had no problem just working around them. But Commodore Lee seemed to be going out of her way to make his life difficult, and without any apparent justification. Ignoring her wasn't an option either, his current assignment made it necessary for the two of them to work together. Indeed, the success of the mission made it vital that they do so. This put Pascual in a rather difficult position if he was to deal with their conflict.
As a rule, Pascual eschewed resorting to politics. The fact that most everyone expected him always to pull strings in his own favor had made it a matter of personal pride. His friends and family liked to tease him about it, but avoiding dirty tricks for petty gains allowed him a peace of mind that he treasured.
Sometimes, however, politics were necessary.
Pascual called up his e-mail program.