Month 9 Day 9
(Shore Leave Day 10)
1503 Hours
Bugalu
Previously:
“I see,” was the
captain’s careful return. “And who am I speaking to?”
Mac grimaced.
“Colleen MacDowell. I apologize. ‘Mac’ is my nick name for Dr McGregor.”
“Duck!” Burke called, and half a moment later, McGregor stood
beside her. “Lt MacDowell says you fixed her confusion over Yukosk vs Fleet
technology a couple days ago. Can you shed any light on that statement?”
“Oh, sure. I sent a report to the ship, so look for it after
leave. Quite by accident, Mac- Dowell showed up in a sick bay at the local
water park. An allergy to a local plant. Working with the local doctor, we
discovered her brain chemistry was considerably different from when she came
aboard. Apparently a side effect of meeting Kolla the way she did. So we put
her chemistry back to her own, and Kolla’s memories faded away.”
“Not exactly,” Mac refuted softly. “They’re in a file in the
back of my mind, readily available if I want them, but they don’t present themselves
as my memories.”
“Well, that sounds like an improvement,” Jane stated. “And
certainly less confusing for you.” She turned back to the arcade owner. “You do
know that my chief engineer is Lt Cmdr Smythe, one of the foremost spaceship
engineers in the Fleet, don’t you?”
The portly man gave her a startled look, then let his gaze
turn to Smitty. “He’s that Smythe?”
“Indeed,” the captain agreed. “And Lt MacDowell - although
assigned to communications - is in the midst of being cross-trained in engineering.
So, here’s my proposal; if you have a copy of the schematics for this console,
Mr Smythe will oversee MacDowell as she puts things back to rights.”
“No,” Smitty stated firmly.
Burke slowly turned to face him. “It seems the perfect
opportunity for you to see how much she’s learned.”
But Smitty would not give in. “She’s already passed her computer
test, and this is, as I’ve pointed out, nothing more than a specialized computer.
I have others in mind to help me document what she did as they straighten
things out. And with a team in here, it’ll get done that much faster.”
“But it’s my mess!” Mac protested before Bugalu could squeeze
her hand to stop her. “I don’t ask others to clean up after me!”
“You aren’t asking,”
Smitty told her sharply. “I am.”
“But captain!” Mac tried again.
“No, sorry,” Burke responded with a small shake of her head.
“I asked Mr Smythe to handle this, so I can hardly micro-manage his decisions
about how to do that. However, if you sit down at one of the other consoles and
stay quiet, he might let you watch.”
She gave the engineer a questioning look.
Smitty looked up from his personal communication device.
“What?” For a moment, he seemed uncertain how to respond. When he cast a quick
glance at Mac, he actually seemed uneasy at the suggestion. “Alright, sit at
medical.” He grudgingly gave her the seat furthest from where he and his team
would be working. He turned to the arcade manager. “We’ll need the original
specs, and I assume your maintenance crew has some tools.”
“I’ve sent for them. Do you mind if my technician works with
you?”
Smitty smiled at him. “If he can get here before we’re done.”
With that settled, he took a couple steps toward the trio who had just entered
the gameroom. “Since you all got here in under a minute, I assume you were here
to see the contest. Therefore, you saw how Colleen treated her console. An unorthodox
way to play, but I understand she got good results. However, now we have to put
things back the way they’re supposed to be. First, document everything she did.
We can analyze it after shore leave.”
Abdulla gave a wry smile to Wilson. “Here we go again.”
Oakhurst shook his head. “Wow. Far more wiring than the
computers I’m used to.”
“I suspect the manufacturer does that in an attempt to make
it seem like the actual wiring of a
ship,” Smythe stated. “But if I’m right, most of it is just for show.”
“Yeah, big blobs of wiring that don’t do anything,” Mac
stated.
“Quiet,” Smythe told her. “I said you could watch, but no
commentary.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied meekly.
“Some day,” Capt Burke softly told Bugalu, “I want you to
explain why you took a communications officer who has barely started her
cross-training and made her your chief engineer.”
“She may have only officially
started her cross training,” Bugalu replied just as softly. “But I suspect she
could pass any engineering test given to her. As long as it isn’t Smythe doing the testing.”
“She didn’t make a good impression on him when she first came
aboard. And that poor impression seems to be hanging on far longer than I
hoped.” Burke turned to face him directly. “Usually, Wilson is your engineer.”
“I don’t think I’ve spoken to Ivy in a month,” he answered
slowly. “Maybe more.”
Burke thought about that for a moment, but didn’t ask for
details. “Well, I’m going to get out of the way,” she decided. “Maybe Yellow
Dog will give me some practice on Nooto.”
“I suggest you try Bear instead,” Bugalu told her. “Dog is...
competitive.”
“Or maybe I’ll try a few laps through that Ohrt Belt
simulator, see how rusty my piloting has gotten. Care to join me?”
“Lieutenant!” Smythe roared.
Bugalu snapped to attention. “Yes, sir!” he answered, and
heard several other voices saying the same. He turned to see Rags holding a
ball of wiring from an upper console panel, Mac standing nearby, and Smythe
glaring at them.
“No commentary!” Smythe repeated.
“I was just saying-”
Smitty held up his hand for silence. Mac’s face went red with
determined defiance. “Since I don’t remember doing anything to that, then Oak
doesn’t need to do anything but put it back inside and shut the panel!” she declared.
“If you didn’t do
anything to it, then Oakhurst will see that when he compares it to the
schematics, and will know what to do with it!” Smitty returned hotly.
“Does he yell at her like that a lot?” Burke asked.
“She usually starts it,” Bugalu admitted. “But they’re on
opposing shifts, so they don’t see each other much.”
“Maybe we should take her with us.”
“I... don’t know if she knows how to pilot.”
“Good. We can call it cross-training,” Burke decided, and
raised her voice. “MacDowell! Come with us!”
Smythe gave his captain a glance that was... hard to read.
Mac looked confused and kept looking at her friends, all drafted to ‘clean up’
what she had done, but she made her way to Bugalu’s side. “Captain, I-”
“Bugalu says you don’t know how to pilot.”
Now her face paled. “I know the... theory. I’ve never gotten
much practice at it.”
“That won’t do. Everybody who serves on a ship should have
some rudimentary piloting skills. Come on, we were just going to get some practice
at it.”
“But what if that guy still wants to get paid for what I did
to his machine?”
“He won’t. If necessary, Smythe will send him to me, and I’ll
straighten him out.”
Mac seemed ready to protest again, but the captain distracted
her as they moved up to the 3rd level by telling her stories of her own efforts
to learn to pilot. Plus a couple embarrassing moments Bugalu had as he learned
to pilot the Fireball’s bulk.
No doubt Smythe feels
relief now that Mac’s been distracted. He always seems... less tense when she’s
not around.
