Until the World Stops - L.A. Witt Page 0,80

he hadn’t toed the right lines, and leadership had determined he was enough of a pain in the ass that they needed to send him packing. And now MA2 Colby was ready to peace out because people above her paygrade treated her like shit and there was nothing she could do about it.

So maybe you need to step up and do something like you didn’t do when it was Tristan on the chopping block.

My guilty conscience throbbed, and it was even worse lately since things were extra uncomfortable between me and Tristan. If it weren’t for my dereliction of duty, he wouldn’t have been stuck with me through this stupid pandemic. The least I could do was not sit back and let our chain of command push Colby out.

Without a second thought, I texted Senior Chief Johnston: When you come by the base, I need to talk to you for a few minutes.

And as the message sent, I hoped I could actually get somewhere with him.

It was two days before Senior actually swung by the base during my shift, and we stepped into Chief’s office and closed the door.

Sitting behind Chief’s desk, Senior folded his hands. “So, you wanted to talk?”

“Yeah.” I swallowed. “I’m, uh… I’m kind of concerned about some things Chief Larson has been saying here at work and also on social media, and I—”

“MA1,” he said on a sigh. “Listen, I know you’re still not happy about your husband getting admin sepped over what he posted, but—”

“That’s not the issue here, Senior.” I paused. “Okay, yes, it bugs me, the fact that Tristan was kicked out for essentially telling us all not to commit war crimes, but that’s not the issue here. Chief is posting on his social media and repeating—in uniform to subordinates who aren’t in a position to argue with him—conspiracy theories about COVID. Like, the kinds of conspiracy theories that could actually get people hurt or killed. And when he starts in on that, I can push back a bit and say I don’t want to hear it, but my MA2s? My third classes?” Shaking my head, I gestured over my shoulder. “They can’t. And it’s becoming a problem.”

Senior studied me. “So is the problem what he’s saying? Or the fact that your junior Sailors are stuck listening to it?”

“Uh, both?”

He cocked his head. “Well, if it’s not a work-related conversation, I don’t see why they can’t politely extricate themselves from the discussion.”

“It’s not like they can just get up and leave,” I said. “Not if he’s in the guard shack with them or they’re trying to make their lunch. And I mean, you and Chief could have clicked away from Tristan’s Facebook page, but instead, you had him booted out. Now when Chief is making my junior Sailors uncomfortable, you want them to tell a chief—at work, in uniform—to stop? Or walk away from that chief?”

“I don’t think those are quite the same scenario, do you?”

“No, they’re not. But the Navy came down hard on Tristan over something he said on his personal social media that wasn’t even against any actual regulations. Junior Sailors in uniform who are a captive audience and have to worry about their ‘attitude’ affecting their eval? Especially when they know from what happened to Tristan that political biases can screw them? They have to take responsibility and remove themselves from the conversation?” I scowled. “I mean, doesn’t that seem a bit, I don’t know, inconsistent to you?”

Senior sat back, sighing like I was personally responsible for all his gray hair. “Even if your junior Sailors don’t care for the subject, nothing Chief is saying is out of line or against regulations.”

“Neither was anything Tristan said.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. I narrowed mine right back.

Then I huffed with the kind of audible insubordination that would’ve had me ready to choke Tristan in another lifetime. “So it’s not that MA2 Holloway said anything incorrect or dangerous. It’s that it was disrespectful and offensive to leadership. But a member of my leadership can say things that could actually hurt people, and it’s fine because it doesn’t hurt the feelings of anyone who outranks him?”

Senior’s eyes narrowed. “MA2 Holloway was speaking out against leadership as a uniformed member of the armed forces, not—”

“Chief repeats this shit in uniform, at work, to subordinates who don’t have the liberty to tell him they don’t want to hear it.” I glared at him. “Holloway was on his own personal page, and he was literally