Chapter 2 - The Signature That Shouldn't Exist
"Don't tell me what you think happened," I said.
"Tell me what you can prove."
Rebecca nodded.
"The original maintenance package was uploaded yesterday afternoon. At 0203, someone accessed the system using Petty Officer Owens's credentials. Three open discrepancies were changed to corrected status. The supporting work orders were also modified."
"Source files?"
"Preserved."
"Audit trail?"
"Preserved, although there is an unusual routing event we haven't explained."
I looked at Cole.
"Who controls access to this system?"
"The ship's maintenance administration personnel, under the engineering department's procedures."
"Then nobody touches the affected records until we establish the chain of custody."
Cole nodded once.
"I'll notify the commanding officer."
The commanding officer, Commander Daniel Pierce, met us outside the wardroom.
He was forty-three, lean, disciplined, and visibly exhausted.
His handshake was firm.
"Welcome aboard, Admiral."
"Commander."
He glanced toward Cole.
"Sir, I understand there was an incident at the pier."
"There was," Cole answered. "It's being documented separately."
Pierce nodded.
He seemed relieved that neither of us intended to discuss my brother at the opening brief.
Inside the wardroom, charts covered the walls.
Officers sat around a rectangular table with notebooks open.
A large display showed the ship's planned operational schedule.
Sterett was preparing for an upcoming deployment.
The schedule included a final readiness evaluation.
On paper, everything looked organized.
Almost perfect.
That was the problem.
Real ships were never perfect.
Machines broke.
Sensors degraded.
Pumps leaked.
Crew members made mistakes.
An honest maintenance record showed the repairs, inspections, and remaining limitations.
A record with every problem suddenly erased could be an indication of excellent work.
Or something much worse.
"Commander Pierce," I began, "why were three significant maintenance discrepancies closed overnight?"
He looked genuinely surprised.
"Which three, ma'am?"
Rebecca placed the records on the display.
Pierce read them.
His shoulders stiffened.
"Those were supposed to remain open pending verification."
"Who ordered their closure?"
"I didn't."
The executive officer, Lieutenant Commander Martin Vale, cleared his throat.
"Ma'am, I may be able to explain."
Every head turned.
Vale was a handsome, polished officer with immaculate sleeves and a smile that arrived too quickly.
"The work was substantially complete," he said. "The administrative updates simply caught up with the repairs."
"Then the verification evidence should be available," Rebecca said.
"Of course."
"Where?"
Vale blinked.
"In the supporting package."
"We reviewed it."
His smile thinned.
"Perhaps your team received an incomplete transfer."
I studied him.
"Is that your explanation?"
"I'm offering a possibility."
"Then let's resolve it with records, not possibilities."
Pierce turned to his engineering officer.
"Lieutenant Chen, provide the original test reports."
Lieutenant Emily Chen was young, perhaps thirty, with tired eyes and a neat bun.
She stared at her notebook.
"Sir."
"Lieutenant?"
She looked toward Vale.
It was a small movement.
Less than a second.
But I saw it.
"I'll have to retrieve them," she said.
"How long?"
"Not long, ma'am."
"Good."
I closed my folder.
"Until the technical condition is established, any associated readiness certifications remain under review. Commander Pierce, you retain responsibility for the ship's safe operation."
"Understood."
Vale shifted in his chair.
"Admiral, with respect, our schedule is extremely tight."
"Safety isn't a scheduling inconvenience, Commander."
"No, ma'am."
"Then we understand each other."
The meeting continued for another twenty minutes.
We reviewed personnel readiness, training documentation, maintenance controls, and outstanding work.
Vale answered quickly.
Pierce answered carefully.
Chen barely answered at all.
As the room emptied, Rebecca handed me a second document.
A personnel access report.
Brandon's identification had been used at 0203.
But the pier gate recorded his departure at 2157 the previous evening and his return at 0652.
"Could he have accessed it remotely?" I asked.
"Possibly, depending on the account permissions. We haven't established that yet."
"Where was the access made?"
"The system shows an internal network terminal."
"Which terminal?"
Rebecca turned the display.
Engineering administration.
Deck three.
Compartment 3-127-0-L.
I looked toward the passageway.
"Have someone preserve that terminal and the relevant logs."
"Already requested."
A voice came from behind me.
"Admiral?"
It was Lieutenant Chen.
She was holding a thin manila envelope.
Her fingers trembled.
"I found the verification records."
Rebecca extended her hand.
Chen didn't give them to her.
Instead, she looked toward the open wardroom door.
"Ma'am, before I hand this over, I need to ask something."
"Go ahead."
"If somebody knew a system wasn't safe, but signed the paperwork because they were ordered to..."
She stopped.
I waited.
"Would telling the truth now make them responsible for everything that happened afterward?"
The question was too specific to be hypothetical.
"Responsibility depends on what they knew, what they did, and the circumstances," I said. "But evidence matters, and so does reporting a danger before someone is hurt."
Her eyes filled.
"Then you need to see what's inside this envelope."
She placed it on the table.
The first page was a failed test report.
The second was a maintenance request marked urgent.
The third was a photograph of damaged equipment.
On the final page, someone had written a sentence by hand.
DO NOT RELEASE THIS SHIP UNTIL THE COOLING LOOP IS REINSPECTED.
Beneath it was a signature.
Commander Daniel Pierce.
Dated six days earlier.
I looked up.
"Did the captain know these records were missing?"
Chen's lips parted.
Before she could answer, an announcement sounded over the ship's internal communications system.
"Lieutenant Chen. Report to the executive officer's stateroom immediately."
Her face went white.
May you like
Then she whispered something I would remember for the rest of my career.
"He's already found out I talked."
