Junior Gods Squadron: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Battleship Chronicles Book 5) by L. Eclaire

Author:L. Eclaire [Eclaire, L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aethon Books
Published: 2025-02-25T00:00:00+00:00

Back then I hadn’t given his comment any thought, but now I realized exactly what it meant. It was the possibility to make decisions that had led Wilco to claim a command of his own after Augustus’ promotion to the admiralty. Now, I was given similar authority and all the annoyances that came with it.

“Afternoon, ma’am,” the private at the entrance of the building said as he gave me a salute.

Regulations started that everyone had to go through a decon procedure each time they entered. With the potential number of spores in the air, it was a valid safeguard that had managed to catch a few instances of dangerous accumulation on people. The fact that there was a direct corridor connecting the base’s medical facility with the central building was beside the point.

“Afternoon.” I returned the salute. “Which one is it today?”

“Two, ma’am,” the private replied.

Chamber two, I said to myself and went inside.

Since nanites weren’t allowed, decon used the next best method: chemical spray. The moment I stepped in, the glass became opaque. I took off my uniform and personal items and placed them in the assigned drawers.

“Ready for the procedure,” I said. A fine spray filled the chamber, covering me from every direction. Keeping my eyes and mouth closed, I waited for sixty seconds, after which it stopped. Phase one was complete.

The light changed to the ultraviolet spectrum, as I was carefully scanned for any potential danger. When such wasn’t found, the ventilation cycle began, recycling all the air in the chamber.

“You’re good to go, ma’am,” the private said, giving me the all-clear.

Protocol required that he verbally informed me I was allowed to put my uniform back on, but that was a detail no one bothered with. It was bad enough going through the experience several times per day.

Systemically, I put on my uniform, then waited the final ten seconds for the chamber door to open. The instant I stepped out, a ping from my datapad let me know I’d received a new message. I took it from my pocket and skimmed through it while walking to my quarters.

My temp promotion and new assignment had been made public. Going through the standard congratulations template, I made a note of the new privileges I was granted. Most of them were pointless—access to the CO canteen, ten additional daily minutes of privacy, walking in casual clothes within certain sections of the base, and extra SR time. I had also been officially granted the authority to start my selection process, as well as make requests for weapons, equipment, and research facilities, pending approval.

The second message was from Jespersen. Apparently, he had been assigned as my science officer, which meant that while outranking me, he had to follow my instructions regarding anything mission related. All research decisions would be dealt with by him. There was no indication who was responsible for administrative matters, but I hadn’t spent decades in the Fleet without learning a few things.

“Jespersen,” I said in the comm. “Have a moment?”

“Ah, Elcy,” the man replied.

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