The Name Game

By R. L. Keller

Admiral Harriman Nelson paused as he passed the office door in the Admin building at NIMR of his boat’s XO, Lt. Cdr. Chip Morton. A frown crossed his face as he noted the light coming from the small space under the door; it was after 1900 hours on a Friday night and apparently Chip was still working. While Nelson appreciated his employees’ dedication to their jobs there were limits, and he headed towards the door to chase the younger man out of the building – for the night, at least, and hopefully for the rest of the weekend. Seaview wasn’t scheduled to leave port for the next ten days, and Nelson knew that Chip had most of his pre-cruise projects already done.

As he neared the door, however, the frown changed to a grin as Nelson realized Chip wasn’t alone. Chuckles from the other side of the door told him that Seaview’s captain, Cdr. Lee Crane, was also present – for whatever reason also working late. On the other hand… Sudden laughter from both of his officers had Nelson almost laughing himself. It was a sound heard far too infrequently from the dedicated men. Oh, Nelson was perfectly aware that both could show a silly side on occasion, especially off-duty. But it was still good to hear, whatever was causing it at the moment.

He was turning to leave, not wishing to interrupt the pair from whatever was causing their good humor, when suddenly Lee’s voice changed drastically. “Absolutely not,” was uttered strongly, but with a quality to it that Nelson almost never heard – a subtle undertone of… Nelson hesitated to call it fear. But something closely related, definitely, and he turned once more and tapped on the door.

“Come,” was called instantly in Chip’s strong, clear XO voice of authority, and Nelson entered the office. He was quick to note Lee take a deep breath and instantly get himself back under control from whatever had just shaken his usually so under control persona. Both younger men sent him expectant looks as they quickly rose from their chairs – Chip behind his desk and Lee to one side, almost facing the door.

“Just wondered what had the pair of you stuck here well after hours on a Friday night,” Nelson answered. Actually he wanted to know much more. Specifically, what had so instantly changed Lee’s laughter to unease.

Chip pointed to two large stacks of folders on the desk in front of his chair, and a smaller stack closer to Lee’s side, as both his shoulders and Lee’s relaxed. It only made Nelson more curious as to what had stiffened them in the first place. “Every time Seaview makes the news,” Chip started, “and especially the Navy News, NIMR gets inundated with requests for transfers. They all go directly to Security and when they’ve weeded out any iffy ones they get dumped on me.”

“I just discovered how Chip does his first sort,” Lee took up the explanation. “Coffee, sir?” Belatedly Nelson noticed large mugs of dark brew close at hand to both younger men.

“Sure,” Nelson agreed. “I’d love to hear this apparently marvelous system.” His curiosity only intensified as Lee grinned and Chip cringed ever so slightly. Lee handed him a matching mug and all three men sat down, Nelson taking a long draw of the coffee as he settled into a chair in front of Chip’s desk.

“Sorry, sir,” Chip told him. “I wasn’t planning on company,” he sent Lee a badly disguised glare, “so it’s not overly fresh.”

“Had worse,” Nelson told him, and waved his free hand at the stacks of files.

“Ah, yeah, well…” Nelson sent his XO a grin over the top of his coffee mug. It was so unusual to catch the ultra-competent man off-guard. “It started as sort of…just making sense.”

“One of the benefits we have here,” Nelson said with a nod. “Seaview isn’t required to take anyone who simply gets assigned to her.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And one of the things I so value you for,” Nelson continued, “is your ability to keep a well organized, under control, smooth-fitting team.” Nelson was distracted as Lee choked off a snort and quickly buried a grin behind his own coffee mug. Chip’s face had started to turn bright red at the compliment but he was able to deflect most of his embarrassment at the praise into a glare at the brunet. Nelson loved the interplay between his two officers, so telling of the strong friendship the two shared that allowed the teasing and faux threats. But it made Nelson even more curious about what had caused Lee’s earlier apparent distress. “So…” he now encouraged his XO to continue with the explanation.

“So…” Chip seemed reluctant to explain. Nelson was patient. He had nothing in particular planned for the evening, and obviously the other two didn’t either. He grinned as Chip sent him an almost puzzled look – Nelson wasn’t known for being a patient man. Nelson’s grin broadened and Chip finally surrendered to the inevitable. “I…ah…do an initial sort, especially when I have this many at once, by name,” he got out.

Nelson, in the process of taking a sip of coffee, carefully pulled the mug away from his mouth and pointed an eyebrow at the blond. That was definitely not what he was expecting. Years in the service, experience with their specialties, fit-rep scores; those were what Nelson was expecting. But names?

Chip seemed to hurry on, to get his explanation out before Nelson could interrupt. “With a relatively small crew, I decided early on to try to limit the chance of confusion in an emergency as much as possible by not duplicating a last name. I don’t eliminate a man just because of that,” Chip quickly assured his boss. “But I’d prefer we don’t have ten Jones’ and fourteen Smiths aboard.”

“Understood,” Nelson assured him.

“So that stack,” he indicated one of the two bigger stacks, “is men with names either the same as, or extremely similar to, current crewmen. I’ll give them a second look later, after I’ve been through this batch.” He laid his hand on top of the other larger stack, the one closest to him.

Nelson nodded. “Sounds perfectly reasonable,” he agreed. “And the little stack?” Both younger men cringed, and Nelson sent them both a raised eyebrow.

“That…ah…” Once more Chip seemed reluctant to answer. Lee glanced at him, reached out and picked up all but the bottom folder of the small stack, and handed them to Nelson. Nelson sent a glance at the ignored folder but put down his mug and accepted the stack, laying them on his lap and opening the first one. It contained the application for one Ensign Adam Malarkey. Nelson sent Lee a glance as the brunet snickered softly.

“I’m with Chip on that one, sir,” Lee told him, barely controlling the smile in his voice. “I’d just as soon not be placed in the position of picking up a mic and calling Malarkey to the Control Room.”

Nelson struggled to swallow a bubble of laughter as he closed that folder, tossed it on the edge of Chip’s desk, and opened the next one. “Machinist’s Mate Luke Bleeding,” he read out the name.

“You want to put up with Jamie’s commentary on that one, sir?” Lee asked with another grin.

Nelson chuckled. “Point taken,” he agreed, and that folder followed the first. The next one was for sonar specialist Anthony Bologna.

“If I call him to the Conn,” Chip told his boss after Nelson read the name, “and Cookie shows up with a bologna sandwich, Lee would kill me.” Nelson laughed out loud, mostly at the expression Lee sent Chip, and continued on.

Folders for Lt.’s Boozapour, Barfus, and Fungi were quickly dispatched, leaving only one more in Nelson’s lap. He sent Chip another puzzled look as he read out loud that applicant’s name. “Ensign Horatio Vanlandinghampton? What’s wrong with him, other than having a little old fashioned given name. The last name is certainly distinctive enough not to get confused with anyone else.”

“Try saying it quickly in an emergency, sir,” Chip told him. “By the time you get it spit out Seaview could have blown up.” Both Nelson and Lee chuckled softly at the disgust in Chip’s voice, and Nelson tossed that folder on top of the others.

“And that one?” Nelson waved a hand at the last folder sitting closest to Lee, and sent both younger men curious looks as Chip lowered his eyes and Lee openly cringed. When neither offered to hand it to him, Nelson leaned forward and grabbed it himself. But even he went stiff as his eyes caught the name: Electrician’s Mate Allen Krueger.

“Absolutely no relation,” Chip informed him softly, still not quite able to meet his boss’ eyes. “Security made very sure of that.”

“Uhm,” Nelson muttered, barely keeping a steady hand as he closed the folder and very carefully put it back on the bottom of the small stack. “Yes…ah…” He stopped and cleared his throat as he also gave himself a shake. “So,” he pointed to the stack still in front of Chip. “Looks to be plenty there to choose from,” he changed the subject.

“Yes, sir,” Chip was more than ready to end that part of the conversation and turn it away from an episode in Seaview’s history that no one wanted to be reminded of. “There aren’t any open positions at the moment – I just like to have a list of names in case something comes up unexpectedly.”

Nelson nodded. He glanced over at Lee. Seaview’s captain had himself mostly back under control, although he still looked a couple shades paler than his normal coloring. Nelson had his answer to Lee’s earlier outburst. Now he felt the need to get everyone past the moment. “So, either of you have dinner plans?” he asked, and got back double ‘no sirs’. “In that case, I’m buying,” he told them with a grin.

Lee played along, grateful for the distraction. “Friday night – we’ll never get reservations at Visconti’s or the Cottage Inn.” Those were both favorites of Nelson’s.

“Actually,” Nelson told him with a bright grin, “I was thinking more of pizza and beer at BZ’s.”

That popped Chip’s eyes up to meet his as a grin spread across his face. “Sounds good to me,” he told his boss.

“Me, too, sir,” Lee agreed.

“Good.” He pointed to the stacks of folders. “Those can wait until Monday.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes, sir,” Chip told him, standing up and grabbing his jacket. Lee grabbed his, laying across another chair, and Nelson shooed the other two out. The last one to the door, Nelson pulled it closed behind him with one final glance at Chip’s desk, and a soft smile crossed his face. He may be the one with the Nobel Prize, but ever since he’d met Lee and Chip as Plebes at Annapolis they continually surprised him with their creative solutions to whatever challenges life threw at them. Never a dull moment, he chuckled silently, and hurried to catch up with them.