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just by quoting non-existent regulations.”
     
    “I would be astonished if anyone fell for that one,” Susan said.  She shook her head.  “It’s practically a licence for the breakdown of naval discipline.”
     
    “Perhaps,” Mason said.  “But it’s also useful to have an informal connection, from time to time, even if it was shaped in the academy.”
     
    Susan shrugged.  “What’s wrong with the captain?”
     
    Mason gave her a long look.  It was, she knew, an awkward question.  Asking a junior officer to pass judgement on a senior officer was a breach of naval etiquette, even if it went no further.  A captain might pass judgement on an admiral, if he or she served on a court martial board, but anyone junior?  It simply didn't happen.  Hell, even if it was perfectly legal to report one’s superior officer for misdeeds, it wasn’t impossible that the whistleblower’s career would come to a screeching halt.  Betraying one’s senior officers, for whatever reason, wasn't something that endeared a person to his future superiors.
     
    “You don’t need to answer,” she said, “if you don’t want to answer.”
     
    She kept her expression blank with an effort.  Paul Mason had been more than just a joker, he’d been the most outgoing person in their class.  She still smiled at the thought of how he’d made a pass at her, then befriended her when she’d shown no interest ... and at how he’d constantly pushed the limits, just to see how far they could go.  Hell, he’d cheerfully bragged of having a foursome in New Sin City.  She found it hard to imagine anything that could silence him.    
     
    “I haven’t actually had much contact with him,” Mason said, finally.  He glanced up at the ceiling, as if he was suddenly unwilling to meet her eyes.  “Commander Bothell handled almost everything, Susan.  He was practically the real commanding officer on the ship.  The captain would come onto the bridge, but he wouldn't stand watches or anything unless there was something important, like a visit from a visiting dignitary.  Princess Elizabeth visited us for the launch ceremony and the captain was practically kissing her ass in public, yet the moment she departed he went back to his ready room and Commander Bothell resumed command.”
     
    Susan rubbed her eyes.  “And no one noticed?”
     
    “I rather doubt it was entered in the reports,” Mason said.  “Commander Bothell was the one who should have filed any complaints, if necessary, and I assume he didn’t say a word.”
     
    “ Vanguard is meant to be the most powerful ship in the fleet,” Susan said.  “Why didn't she get a commanding officer ...”
     
    She shook her head.  The answer was obvious.  Captain Blake’s connections had been more than enough to get him moved to Vanguard , a transfer that would probably be worth more than a promotion to Commodore.  And his record probably wasn't bad.  He was old enough to have served in the war and, presumably, he’d earned credit merely for surviving.  Hadn’t John Naiser managed the jump from starfighter pilot to command track in the depleted years, following the war?
     
    “I see,” she said.  She wasn't sure how to proceed.  If she contacted the Admiralty and reported the budding nightmare, Captain Blake’s connections would kill her career, even if the Admiralty agreed with her.  But if she kept her mouth shut, she would be compliant in ... in what, precisely?  Allowing someone to claim the rank without actually doing his bloody job?  “What was Commander Bothell like?”
     
    “Competent,” Mason said.
     
    Susan frowned.  “You say that as though it was a bad thing.”
     
    “He did his job,” Mason said.  “And yes, he did most of the hard work of commanding this ship.  He was approachable, always willing to listen, and yet he had no spark of insight or genius.  I would honestly have said he was ... well, like Fisher.”
     
    “That’s