Karen 1

Thank the very heavens - half of supper went down, and smoothly. I feel disinclined to push my luck by eating more. I sense fresh air would be just the thing - go up on deck - see Chief Petty Officer Rasmussen leaning on the rail, smoking his pipe.
He grins, "you're looking remarkably better."
"First I've eaten since leaving Hawaii."
"Obviously your first voyage."
I nod.
"You're tough, mosta the young people woulda long since given up, asked for the drugs. Lemme guess, old-fashioned."
"I knew it would pass."
"Still, two days is a long time. Been meaning to talk with you - never had the chance yet. I'd like you to clear up a mystery."
"Fair enough, then you do the same for me."
"Sure kid, long as it ain't confidential. Now we picked you up in Hawaii when the fleet refuelled. We'll drop you at the small weather station west of Wake Island. But you just ain't the sort."
"The sort?"
Laughs, "over the years, dropped two dozen such people in various places. They run to a type - they're inches away from the stockade - the year on the weather station is their plea bargain. Yet you don't have the look, I'd say you've never spoken with a cop - civvy or mil - except to ask directions."
"That's right."
"So now the mystery. Why are you aboard HMCS Restigouche IV, headed toward such duty?"
I blush, "my free will choice."
He gasps, then a moment later laughs, "got it. You were offered a choice of two or three postings. Rest musta been ghastly, for you to 'choose' this."
I laugh, he joins in.
"And now I can tell you why. The exam process missed on weeding you out. All that psy mumbo-jumbo, those multiple choice questions, you were smart enough to tick the right boxes. You know the stuff, just don't feel it. Usually this does not become apparent til after training. Then they discover you don't fit, don't bond with anyone, lack the particular chemical in the brain."
"Ye-es."
"Kid, see them Cpl stripes on your arm, far as it goes. You are unpromotable you know, best to get out after the first hitch."
I nod.
"And now, I owe you one mystery clarification, shoot."
"Chief, I had expected a certain sneer factor, them Navy, me Army. I wasn't prepared to be a Typhoid Mary. Why does everyone hate me?"
He groans quietly, "it ain't personal, it's a superstition. See in the half dozen dropoffs since I've been CPO here, every one went sour, bad luck, some mechanical breakdown."
"Well I'm relieved to know it's not personal."
"No one, me included, will breathe easy til we've got rid of you."
"Why are we being shadowed by the neoSoviet sub, Chief?"
"It's fairly routine, they like to get photos. Not against the law, is the High Seas."
"Still Chief, why us? Why not the main fleet instead?"
He blushes, "I hate these NATO maneuvers. Since Canadian ships are so crappy, they simulate mine sweeping or sub detection, anything to keep them away from the main fleet. So our crappy old garbage doesn't collide with their real ships."
"Still, why would the sub go after penny antes like us?"
"Near as I can guess kid, new skipper, training gig for him."