Doug fought the urge to snap to along with his men. “At ease,” he ordered. He’d never get used to it. Not the boatswain pipes and the bells hailing him on and off the ship. Not the responsibility for a crew of five thousand men and women. Certainly, not the call to attention and deadpan silence that followed whenever he passed through a compartment. None of it. He hadn’t asked for the job. He’d just slept his way to the top while the former XO let a VIP—er…showgirl with the USO—run the ship aground. The exact details of which were still under investigation. The CO and XO had both been relieved of command and removed from the ship without ceremony along with the civilians. Doug as Operations Officer, or second officer, and third in line for command had been sound asleep in his rack. Not for long. And not since. Sleep deprivation had taken its toll. He’d become short tempered with his crew and distrustful of his junior officers.
