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bad,” Susan said.  Fisher had been one of their fellow cadets, back during their first year at the academy.  Her family had made her join the navy and it showed; she had no enthusiasm, no inclination to actually do her best and no real urge to succeed.  She’d passed her exams, by some dark miracle, but she hadn't returned the following year.  “He was in command of the ship?”
     
    “Yes,” Mason said.  “To all intents and purposes, he was the true commanding officer.”
     
    Susan ran her hands through her hair.  If she’d known what she was getting into, she would have taken the risk of declining the promotion.  It was clear the Admiralty hadn't known; they’d have sent an inspection team if they’d had good reason to think there was a major problem.  And there was a problem.  How could she step into the shoes of a man who had been effectively commanding a battleship?
     
    “If he deserted,” she mused, “why?”
     
    “I don’t know,” Mason said.  “He was always a very straight-laced officer.  I would have expected him to complete his term, then retire.  There was never the slightest hint of impropriety, Commander.  He certainly never went to Sin City while we were orbiting the moon.”
     
    Susan frowned.  “A wife?  A family?”
     
    “None,” Mason said.  “Susan ... he actually gave me his ticket to Luna, two months ago.  Just gave it to me.”
     
    “I don’t believe it,” Susan said.  “He just gave it to you?”
     
    “Yes,” Mason confirmed.  “He said I could have it, if I wanted it.”
     
    Susan shook her head.  A ticket to the moon, which meant Sin City as far as most crewmen were concerned, might be sold, or used as a gambling stake, but not just given away.  The crew would be given a handful of travel vouchers every so often, normally as rewards for good service.  If she’d had one, she wouldn’t give it up for anything. 
     
    She scowled down at the deck, thinking hard.  Commander Bothell might have deserted ... or he might have suffered an accident ... or he might have been murdered.  Could the captain have murdered him?  He had talked about the XO in the past tense, after all.  Or ... or was she just being paranoid.  Senior officers took loyalty seriously, as they should.  And if Commander Bothell had been doing most of the work, his sudden desertion had left Captain Blake in a fix.  He couldn't have wanted Susan when she lacked the experience to fill Commander Bothell’s shoes.
     
    “Then I’d better do my best to do my job,” she said.
     
    “I’m happy to accept any further travel vouchers,” Mason said.
     
    Susan gave him a rude gesture, then stood and walked over to the desk.  The drawers were locked, but a touch of her fingers to the scanner opened them.  Inside, there were a handful of papers, a small selection of Cadbury’s chocolate bars and a navy-issue pistol.  Susan picked it up and studied it, thoughtfully.  The weapon felt to have been crafted for a specific person, even though it was a standard design.  Further inside, there were two small packets of ammunition and a cleaning kit.
     
    “Interesting,” she mused out loud.  “Was Commander Bothell a shooter?”
     
    “Not as far as I know,” Mason said.  His voice became more formal.  “But we are encouraged to practice on the firing range.  Christopher - Major Andreas, the Marine CO - keeps score.  There’s a bottle of ship rotgut in it for the person who has the highest score, each week.”
     
    “I see,” Susan said.  It was a wise precaution.  The Tadpoles had tried to board Ark Royal during the war.  Having the crew armed and ready to fight back would, it was hoped, make it harder for the Royal Navy to lose ships to boarding parties.  “I’ll speak to him later.”
     
    She took a breath.  “I think I’m ready for that tour now,” she said.  She’d have to file something to the Admiralty, even if the file remained sealed.  “Is