First Try (Part 1)

Month 10 Day 26

0035 Hours

Smythe

The lift arrived too soon to suit Smitty, who was not sure how to phrase his apology. Not surprisingly, he heard some conversation between the door opening and his stepping off. “Mr Adams, that is a personal question that I choose not to answer,” Colleen stated stiffly. Adams is here? Smitty stepped unnoticed onto the bridge. Firoz, at the engineering console, caught sight of him; Smitty motioned for silence. What’s going on? 2 men stood flanking Colleen’s chair, leaning on it.

“I’m sorry I missed your party,” Adams told her. “I wouldn’t have let you substitute Bugalu for me, if I’d caught you under the mistletoe.”

“Don’t you need to modify the range to allow for proximity?” Evans asked.

“Not if we’re on course!” she growled through clenched teeth.

“That’s enough,” Smitty said softly.

She whirled, leaving Evans unbalanced as the chair pulled out from under his hand and struck Adams in the- The man’s face blanched as he leaned against the console and fought for breath.

Evans regained his feet. “You’re on report, MacDowell! For striking a superior!” His attitude suddenly changed. “Unless you care to... dissuade us from reporting this?”

She jumped up to face him. “Why stop with striking one officer? Why not assault 2?”

“Belay that!” Smitty roared, walked over to consider her... and realized she was wearing makeup. Not like that night on B-27, but... She doesn’t usually have dark circles under her eyes. What am I going to do with you?

She turned her head. “Are you asking for suggestions?” she whispered.

Oh, space! I said it aloud. How many others heard it? What kind of suggestions? Sitting at the same table, side by side, their knees touching, his hand on hers, her lips so sweet-- No, I don’t dare follow that question down that path. “I told you to keep a lid on that temper,” he reminded her loudly.

“Oh.” Her face turned a delicate pink. “Well, it has been 10 months,” she pointed out. “That’s a really long time. For me.”

“Has it?” he asked, and calculated the time. “10. And a half. Almost 11. Well, I can’t expect miracles overnight, can I?”

“Mr Smythe, I’m glad you witnessed it,” Evans stated. “I’m putting MacDowell on report for striking a superior officer!”

Doesn’t he realize- “Are you?” he asked. “What if her temper isn’t all I witnessed? What if the blow was accidental, and wouldn’t have happened if Adams hadn’t stood so close to her?” At least he has the sense to blanch, now that this isn’t going his way. “What I witnessed was one of the worst cases of harassment in history! I rather wish you-“

“Temper, temper,” he heard her whisper, and forced himself to calm down. Can’t expect her to stay calm if I can’t manage it.

“I wish you’d see that we are on course,” he groused. “Make do without a communications officer for a time; I need to speak to her.”

Evan’s eyes narrowed as he considered the woman suspiciously. “Yes, sir,” he stated, and turned for the helm.

Smitty turned to the lift, paused to consider Firoz. He told Adams, “I’m glad you’re here, Adams. Take Firoz’s place for a time; I need a few words with him, also.”

Adams swallowed, not yet over his pain. “Yes, sir,” he agreed hoarsely.

The 3 of them entered the lift, which he directed to deck 4. It had the closest briefing room. And... Colleen’s quarters. Maybe I should give her the rest of the night off. No, that won’t solve anything. He glanced at her, leaning in a corner, staring at the floor, arms crossed.

“Hey, Mac.” Firoz reached for her shoulder, but her forearm batted his hand away.

“Don’t touch me!” she hissed.

“I don’t know how you put up with it,” Firoz told her quietly. “Or why.”

“What can I do?” she returned shortly, but just as softly. “I’d just give them more material for their dirty imaginations.”

The door opened. Smitty paused at the briefing room door. “You first, Firoz. MacDowell, you can go to your quarters, if you need a drink or...”

She shook her head grimly. “I need a belt, but... not on duty.”

Startled, he was ready to tartly tell her he hadn’t meant alcohol, but pulled his temper under control. How does she irritate me so easily? I’d have found the remark amusing, if Abdulla had made it. Well, at least she expressed the right idea; not on duty. “Yes, he mumbled. “Glad to hear it. I’ll be ready for you in a moment.”

“Promises, promises,” she uttered. He refused to dwell on the meaning of that, and entered the briefing room.

“Mac, don’t you ever think before you speak?” Firoz asked her.

“Now what did I say?” she asked, sounding exasperated.

He chuckled. “Ask Tall Bear at lunch. He’ll explain.”

“Umm, I may not be having lunch with TB.”

He seemed surprised. “No? Well, then I’ll explain after shift.”

When the door closed, Smitty took a seat and motioned the other engineer to another. “You seem to be friendly with Lt MacDowell,” he observed.

“She’s all right,” Firoz replied guardedly.

Now he remembered; Firoz prefers men. Well, move on. It doesn’t change why I’ve got him here. It might even be better. “I’m appalled by what I heard on the bridge. Tell me how that got started.”

Firoz scowled. “Evans needs to be put in his place, but I can’t squeal. That’s how he’d see it.” His dark eyes held anger. “He can be blasted mean. To anybody he feels is in his way.”

“Then you condone his behavior,” Smitty suggested

Firoz shivered in disgust. “I should be spaced if I do!”

“If you don’t act, you might as well encourage him,” he pointed out. The younger man hesitated, and Smitty went on. “Try to look at this as a debriefing.”

Now the swarthy features grinned. “A debriefing! Exactly! What would you like to know, Mr Smythe?”

“How many times has Lt Adams come to the bridge while on duty?”

“Just on duty?”

“Does he come when he’s off duty?”

Firoz shrugged. “Doesn’t seem to matter to him. He’s been showing up pretty much the last... almost 11 months.”

11 months? “Every night?”

“Whenever Mac and Evans are working. He tried to come when Evans wasn’t on duty, but Amana put an end to that.”

Amana? Oh, the relief helmsman. Correction. Evans is relief these days; Amana is midnights. From what I remember, she’s a no-nonsense woman. “What’s his reason for being on the bridge?”

“To pester Mac.”

“I mean, his official reason.”

“Don’t know that he bothers with one,” Firoz answered.

“What I heard tonight, was that typical? Or was this a special case?”

“Well, they referred to the party and mistletoe, and they don’t usually have that material to work with. But actually, what you heard was pretty tame.”

“Tame?”

“Of course, the shift has hardly started. Last week, they went into graphic detail about...” Smitty listened in growing horror at the tale of persecution the redhead had to endure, night after night. Firoz suddenly stopped. “Are you okay?”

“What?”

“You’re looking kind of... green.”

“What you’ve described is pretty--“

“Raunchy,” Firoz agreed.

I was going to say ‘graphic’, but ‘raunchy’ is a better choice.

The younger man went on. “Pretty sickening to listen to. I keep expecting Tall Bear to punch one of them. Either one would suite me. Or both.”

“Tall Bear,” Smitty repeated. Across the messhall, Tall Bear kissed the redhead under the mistletoe, her hands firmly held by his own...

“--lunch with her,” Firoz was saying. “Otherwise, they’d go to lunch, too, and she’d have to endure it even then. By having lunch with Tall Bear, she has a chance to calm down. But he’s never even threatened them. Which I don’t understand, if he’s trying to get on her good side.”

Is he rambling? Or have I lost track of things? “What I saw was pretty horrible. If it gets even worse—” He sighed. “Why does she put up with it?”

“Because of their insinuations,” Firoz replied. “Since she keeps refusing them, they’ve decided she’s a braid-chaser.”

“Braid chaser!”

“That’s someone who--“

“I know what it is,” he told the man tartly. Do they know about— Do I dare to ask? “Who... who do they say she’s—”

Firoz gave him a strange look. All my talk about ‘no gossip’, and here I’m asking him to repeat it! But then the junior engineer answered. “Well, MacGregor, Winthrop and Moor are the only names they’ve used so far. So if she went to one of those with a complaint about them—she’d be a fool to go to Winthrop—they’d claim it was proof of their allegations. And if she went to another officer, they’d claim she was having an affair with him. So... checkmate.”

They’re bluffing. Surely she’s smart enough to realize that?

“She shouldn’t be on the night bridge, Mr Smythe,” Firoz stated. “Haven’t you wondered why no woman accepts duty there? There’s no women in night engineering, either. So both Evans and Adams have set their sights on Mac. Can’t you do anything about it?”

“Something needs to be done,” he agreed. But what? Lost in his thoughts, it took him a while to remember to dismiss Firoz. “And send her in,” he added.