There he found an open door that led to the office of Huntley Camaroon, the Secretary of the United States Extry. Coalbridge paused, took a breath, then entered the SECEX’s office with trepidation. This was it, wasn’t it? The moment he’d always dreaded. He was going to be grounded, he just knew it. TACTIC was the traditional resting place for captains awaiting new commands to be readied. He hadn’t exactly enjoyed pushing data there, but he’d accepted it as necessary. And definitely temporary. But today’s orders, out of the blue, sent him over to STRAT for the grand tour. STRAT was definitely not a way station for field officers. STRAT was a specialty. After the tour, he was report to SECEX. Not the section of the New Pentagon that housed the office suites—but to the man himself. They had to be priming him for some bogus promotion. Planning staff. Headquarters. Something along those lines. And if so, he would lose his vessel. Yes, assignment to STRAT was a big deal. It meant somebody had an eye on you for admiral, for one thing.
