Moving Forward

Month 11, Day 8

2209 Hours

Abdulla

 Smythe’s personal timer went off, and without a word, everybody started putting their tools away, marking where they had been working in the translated Yukoskian technical manual. Smythe always set his timer when they started working on this project; he was the type to completely lose track of time while he was working.

What a strange night this has been. First, Mac was late, but she warned us she would be, and it was less than half an hour. The advantages of working on a project ‘in our spare time’. But she came in with red eyes and a blotchy face, like she’d been crying. When I asked, all she did was shrug and say she’d been unpacking baggage. She’s been aboard almost a year, and she’s still unpacking? She didn’t bring that much with her.

Smythe had greeted her with a simple question about the Yukoskian manual, without growling, and it was like he and Mac each discovered the other had a brain, they kept nattering at each other, practically without including Ivy and me. And Smythe was smiling! Almost all night, like he couldn’t stop. It’s not to say it’s unlike him, I’m just not used to seeing it for hours on end.

And now, as we’re breaking up for the evening, he looks ready to ask another question. We decided long ago to end our sessions at 2200 hours, no matter how little or how much we got done. After 4 hours of concentrating, we need a break. Although, we did make some good advances today. I think. If we can eventually make it work will be the test.

“Shall we go and have coffee and pie?” Smitty asked. “As a reward for the progress we made today?”

He seemed to be addressing all of them, so... “Sure, I’m up for it,” Abdulla agreed.

As they rode the lift towards the messhall, Smitty turned to Mac. But instead of a technical question about the machine they were trying to build, he asked, “Was Oakhurst able to recreate your computer files for you?”

Mac rolled her eyes and exclaimed, “Oak is a wonder! I just wrote my programs and put the computer to work. But he had the main computer break into the work twice a day—for about 3 minutes each time—to save copies of my files! Why didn’t I think of that? Well, of course, I never expected...” She swallowed and went on. “...for my computer to land on the floor and be smashed, but still, I should have thought of it.”

“So you didn’t lose much of the work.” Ivy wanted to make sure she understood.

“About 7 hours worth. But considering I could have had to start from square one again, I’m happy with that.”

“Well, that is good news.” Smythe beamed.

“Does that mean you’re about to start teaching us the Yukoskian language?” Abdulla teased.

The corner of Mac’s mouth twitched. “Yes, I’ve 2 or 3 lessons ready. I was going to wait until I had enough for a book, but I can send them out, make adjustments according to what questions you guys ask me.”

“What else are you still working on?” Ivy asked.

“The Yukosk dictionary. I think that will progress much faster now that Kolla has sent me one of their dictionaries. Naturally, I sent one of ours back.”

Conversation continued as they enjoyed their pie and beverages. Eventually, they began taking turns telling an amusing anecdote, which had them all laughing until Abdulla’s personal alarm gently chimed. “Oh. Time for me to call it a night and head for bed,” she stated.

“Yes,” Ivy agreed. “I have a date with a pool table.”

“Smit,” Mac said uncertainly.

How does she get away with having shortened his name like that? Well, why do I let her call me Abs?

As Smythe turned his head her way, she asked, “Could I borrow a technical manual? With Tall Bear on days now, I usually find a quiet place to read for lunch.”

“I suppose so. Communications?”

“I passed my test,” she reminded him, slightly defensively.

“Yes, so you did. Then what...”

“I was thinking... the warp engine.”

“That’s... pretty advanced. Are you sure you don’t want to start with the sub-light engines?”

She hesitated, and looked confused. “Is there a lot of difference between those and tug engines? Because I’ve read the manual on tug engines.”

“You have?” His brow furrowed, but not in anger, more like confusion or concentration. “What other manuals have you read?”

“Quite a few,” Mac stated quietly. “Um, weapons, support appliances, computer hardware, computer software... Do I really need to list them all?”

“Bugs didn’t tell me that when he asked to borrow that warp engine manual for you,” Ivy blurted out.

Mac shrugged. “He doesn’t know. It’s just... something I do. Trying to stay out of trouble.”

Smitty looked from one woman to the other. “Wait, are you saying she’s already started reading the manual on the warp engine?”

Ivy swallowed and nodded. “When she was in the brig, Bugalu came and asked to borrow it, said he wanted something good and hard so she’d have to work to understand it, and wouldn’t be dwelling on... why she was in the brig.”

Smitty let out a deep sigh. “Well, there’s no sense in withholding it from you now, then, is there? Come along, let’s go get it.”

The four left the messhall. Abdulla and Ivy watched the other 2 head for a lift. “Why do I get the feeling it won’t be long before I lose a communications officer?” Abdulla asked.

Ivy smiled. “We could do a lot worse than add Mac to engineering.”

“She’s good at her job, and I just got her broke in. I don’t want to lose her,” Abdulla objected.

“I know it’s hard to believe, after she had such trouble passing her probation. But now that she knows it’s okay to be good at something, she is moving forward as fast as she can!”

Bad News Shared

Month 11, Day 8

1657 Hours

Smitty

 Smitty claimed his supper tray and a cup of hot tea, and made his way over to the table where Jane and Duck were already seated. Not sure I even want supper. I’ve had a sour stomach since Jane dismissed us this morning, and digging through Colleen’s sub-sub files have only made it worse. Now I can understand why she was so willing to use her fists if a man got too fresh with her.

He sat down and stared at his food. Why the devil did I get this? This is never going to sit in my stomach and be a comfort. I probably won’t even be able to sleep tonight, especially if I continue to study her files.

He realized someone was talking to him and looked up. “What?”

Drake looked him over carefully. “I asked if you were okay. You look a bit green, and you’re staring at your food as if it were poison.”

“I just— I’m not feeling quite right. Sour stomach.”

“How long has it been like that?” the doctor asked.

“All afternoon. I thought it was because I skipped lunch, and some food would help, but the more I think about food, the worse it gets.”

“What have you been doing all afternoon?” Jane wondered.

“Studying records. Personnel records. Like you told me to.”

Jane and Drake exchanged glances. Drake pulled a small bottle from his pocket and passed it over to him. “I think these will help. I got so worked up this afternoon, I had to resort to them myself. Take one now and 1 before you go to bed.”

“And if I still feel like this in the morning?”

“Then I’ll want to see you in sick bay before I prescribe anything stronger.”

That figures. “Alright.” Smitty took one of the pills and washed it down with some tea. “Captain, did you talk to Colleen, uh, MacDowell this afternoon?”

“Yes.” she confirmed. “Timed it pretty well, if I do say so myself. Afterwards, I took her onto bridge, released Lt Bugalu even though his replacement hadn’t arrived by then, and sent them off together.”

Stunned, Smitty could only stare at her in dismay. What’s this? Jane is actively encouraging Bugalu and Colleen to be together? Well, why not? They’re both lieutenants, there’s no rank differential to speak off. You know perfectly well Colleen’s not for you, Smitty, so just stop thinking about it. It’ll never happen.

“I imagine she was pretty upset,” Drake stated.

“That’s what I expected. But if I had to describe how she took the news, I’d say she was stoic. I took that to mean she wasn’t surprised by my news, and since there was nothing more she could do about it, she was determined not to let it ruin her day. Or week. Or her life.”

“That sounds all well and good,” Drake stated. “But it isn’t good for her to keep her feelings all bottled up inside.” He frowned at his scalloped potatoes for a moment. “Maybe I should alert Dr Fong to this. If she’s determined not to let it bother her, she might not even mention it to him.”

“Has he mentioned how she’s doing during their sessions?” Jane asked. “Is she still seeing him?”

“Every day, from what I gather. He mentioned that he has to pick at what she says from time to time to get her to elaborate, but I gather that’s pretty par for the course.”

“Every day? Isn’t that a bit much?” Smitty asked.

“She started out their first session asking him to help her unpack her luggage from her upbringing. She didn’t say a word about Winthrop’s attack until he specifically asked her about it. So he says he’s seeing her so often in part to get her over the attack and in part to see where her head is at, in order to help her get over the attack.”

“Kind of a circle of work for him, then.”

“Exactly. I haven’t asked for specifics, but when he comes back from one of their sessions, he frequently has a dazed look about him. She hasn’t told me a lot about her childhood, but I already don’t have any respect for her father, so I understand what Fong is going through. I think.”

Jane shook her head. “One wonders how she passed her psych eval to get in the Academy.”

“Well, there aren’t a lot of questions about sex to trip her up,” Drake answered.

Smitty took another swig of his tea, but it was no good. Even that wasn’t settling his stomach. “This is no good,” he said. “These pills aren’t helping at all. I’m going to call it a night and go to my room.” He stood up and walked off to place his untouched meal in the recycling.

Halfway to the exit, he heard Colleen tell her friends, “I have to go; I’m already late.” She stood up and turned and saw him as they both approached the recycling chute. “Oh, Smit,” she greeted him. “You look a little pale. Is everything alright?”

“No,” he returned tartly, and then caught his breath. “Sorry, I’m a bit under the weather today.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. It won’t keep you from coming to our meeting tonight, will it?”

What meeting?

“I’m not sure we can get much of anything done without you there.”

What meeting? Who is ‘we’? Will she please stop talking in riddles?

“Oh, I’m probably going to be late. I’m already late for my session with Dr Fong, and he really expects a full hour for our sessions. Then I’ll have to change into my D uniform. I don’t feel like wearing my E uniform this week. I hope that’s okay.”

The Yukosk transporter beam! The 4 of us working on trying to build it! And that’s tonight! How could I have forgotten? “That’s fine,” he told her, slightly disappointed she wouldn’t be in an E uniform. No doubt I’ll find it easier to think. “Wear whichever uniform makes you comfortable.” As she shoved her tray into the recycling chute, he dared to add, “I’m sorry about the news from Headquarters.”

“Oh. Well. I was hoping I was wrong. See you in about an hour, Smit.”

She turned and left, and he very nearly placed his tray in the recycling chute out of habit, but then it dawned on him that he hadn’t eaten lunch, now he was about to skip supper, and space, he was hungry! He turned around and rejoined Jane and Drake and started shoveling his food into his mouth, only pausing to tell Drake, “Wonderful pill you gave me, Duck.”

Taking Out the Garbage

Month 11, Day 8

1034 Hours

Drake MacGregor

 Other than telling the 3 men to sit down, and Yeoman Blossom to take a break, the captain hadn’t said a word for 5 minutes. She seemed to be seething, and all her minute rearranging of items on her desk didn’t seem to have any effect on her mood. Drake had been trained to be patient, so he sat and waited, although he did wonder, as the minutes ticked by, what her blood pressure might be at.

Next to him, Smitty sat quietly, only showing his impatience when he occasionally picked an imaginary piece of lint off his pant leg.

On the other end of the line, Lt Tall Bear sat perfectly motionless. He might have fallen asleep with his eyes open, he was so still. But Tall Bear would never be so disrespectful as to fall asleep at a meeting called by his captain.

Jane finally closed her eyes and took a deep breath. And then she spoke, her voice raspy with emotion. “I’ve had several communications with Fleet Headquarters,” she got out, her hands balled into fists. “As a result, we are on our way to Q’lorn, where I’ve been ordered to turn Lt Cmdr Winthrop over to the local Fleet personnel, who will convey him to the Q’lorn Fleet hospital for further medical and psychological testing.” She took another deep and shuddering breath, let it out slowly. It didn’t seem to help.

Drake leaned to one side of his chair and crossed his legs. “I take it they didn’t like my report on his... condition,” Drake stated.

“They not only didn’t like that, they didn’t like anything we sent them!” She pushed her chair back, paced a couple times behind her desk before she managed to sit down again. “They said that MacDowell has a history of filing sexual assault charges against higher officers, so they didn’t believe any of that. Then they stated that if Winthrop was self medicating for some condition missed by you and your staff, then they would get him all the help he needed before reassigning him.”

“Oh, black space,” Drake muttered. I thought my professional reputation was better than that.

Smitty opened his mouth, ready to say something angry, but apparently changed his mind and closed his mouth.

Jane turned her attention to the NAmerind, and cleared her throat before speaking. “You, Mr Tall Bear, will temporarily serve as my Chief Security Officer for the next 6 weeks, until we rendezvous with the Blaze, where our new Security Chief will join us. I would have preferred promoting you, but they declined to let me do that.”

“Thank you, sir. For the thought.” There was no hint of anger in his voice, but the news must have been galling.

“It means I’ll need access to you, so change your sleeping habits,” she said bluntly, and sighed in exasperation. “In the meantime, make copies of all the reports, holograms, photos, everything of evidentiary value about this incident. I’ve already sent copies to Headquarters, but no doubt they’ll ‘misplace’ them. Send copies with Winthrop when we drop him on Q’lorn, put copies in the security files, and put the originals in some deep hiding place that only you have access to. Same with you, Duck, with his complete medical file.”

For what purpose? “We can do that, but then what?” Drake asked. “Sooner or later, one of us will leave this ship, either transferred out or retired or something.”

“You take the original files with you,” she stated. “Just remember to keep in touch with your old captain, in case I see an opportunity to make use of those files.”

“She was right,” Smitty muttered.

Jane’s eyes flashed with anger as she turned her attention to him. “She was right,” she agreed. “I thought we were past this kind of cover-up, in this day and age, but that little slip of a girl from a backwards colony knew exactly how things would go. It’s enough to make my blood boil.”

“There’s got to be something we can do,” Smitty stated, sitting forward.

“I have friends,” Jane stated, “and I’m pretty sure Winthrop has some enemies. I’m hoping some carefully placed words in the ears of like-minded people might bear fruit. And, if I hear he’s being reassigned after a few weeks of medical and/or psychological treatment, I will lodge that complaint again, right up the chain of command, if I have to.”

“Is that wise, captain?” Smitty asked, his brow furrowed with concern.

“Wise? Possibly not. But women in the Fleet are supposed to be equal to the men. And that young lady hasn’t been treated ‘equally’ since she entered the Academy. There are a lot of women in the Fleet, some of us in the upper echelon, who won’t think that such treatment is ‘okay’. Because it isn’t.”

Drake frowned thoughtfully before he offered any help. “Jane, I have some friends in the medical field. They all profess women are equal, and some of them are women. Do you mind if I spread a few words of my own?”

She considered that for a few moments. “It can’t hurt. As long as you’re sure you can trust them. And if you’re discreet.”

“I wouldn’t mind saying a few words in my friend’s ears, either,” Smitty offered.

“I know your heart’s in the right place, Smitty, but Winthrop is security, supposedly with a medical problem. There wouldn’t be any logical reason for you to get involved in it.”

“I beg to differ!”Smitty declared. “The person who was attacked was communications! I am fully convinced that women are every bit as capable as men, and I am outraged, absolutely outraged at this kind of treatment of one of mine!

She considered him for a long time. “Smitty, when you discovered she was in the brig, you assumed she was in the wrong,” she reminded him.

He looked stunned for a moment. “As I might do with anybody who showed such a willingness to fight as she did when she first came aboard. Now that I know she truly was defending herself, I’m blood-thirsty enough to wish she’d done more damage to her attacker!”

“If you want to express outrage on her behalf, I suggest you study her personnel file from before she came here. And I mean all the sub-sub files, too. Piece together what her life was like on the tugs. You’ll have plenty of outrage to talk about.”

Again she turned to Tall Bear. “As for you...”

“Captain, as the investigating officer, I don’t think I should be discussing the case with any of my peers.”

“Exactly,” she agreed. “But if the subject should come up, you might let some interesting tidbit slip out. Completely by accident, of course. Or not. Whatever makes you comfortable.” She sighed and stood up, fingertips on her desktop, a sure sign she was dismissing them. “And that, gentlemen, is probably all we can do at this point. MacDowell is off tonight, I’ll ask to see her and break the news to her just before the end of B shift this afternoon. I assume she’ll want to be with friends this evening to help her get through it.”

 

Good Night

Month 11, Day 3

2320 Hours

Tall Bear

 Tall Bear entered the brig but stopped before he could see into holding cell 1. “Zhang, let me talk to Mac,” he requested. She manipulated the controls and nodded for him to go ahead. “Mac, this is Tall Bear.”

Whatever he expected, the answer came in her usual friendly tone. “Good evening, Tall Bear. You sound tired.”

“We have things to talk about. Can I come in?”

“Into my cell?” That put a quiver of nervousness into her voice.

“Into the lobby so we can see each other,” he answered.

He could almost hear her swallow. “Well, go ahead. I didn’t panic when you announced yourself.”

“Okay. Here goes.” He walked forward, halfway to the dashboard and then turned to look at Mac. She hadn’t jumped to her feet, but her hands were balled, although not tightly. “You okay?” At another time—no, with another woman—I’d take the time to admire how her D uniform fits, but not with this woman, and certainly not now.

She let out a breath, unballed her fists and rubbed her palms on her thighs. She pushed her reader away from her on the bed and leaned back against the wall. “I’m glad you announced yourself.”

“There’s a forcefield between us,” he reminded her.

“Yeah, I know. But if I’m caught by surprise, I don’t always remember that. Not right away.”

“Fair enough. Do you feel calm enough to let me send Zhang home at the end of her shift? Keep in mind that regulations require I have a guard in here if we have a prisoner in a holding cell. But I could have him sit near the door so you don’t have to see him.”

“Let me think about that,” she requested, and stared at her cell floor for a time. “Actually, I prefer to have him where I can see him, I think.” She sat up and blinked. “Has somebody informed Mr Smythe that I can’t work tonight?”

“Yes,” he answered. “I believe he’s sending an ensign to cover for you.” She nodded and lowered her head. That subject seemed to upset her, so he asked, “What are you reading?”

She looked up with pleasure in her face. “A tech manual! Bugs borrowed it from Ivy, and made arrangements for Della to come get it before she goes for breakfast, in order for her to put it back. So Mr Smythe won’t even need to know it left engineering!”

Bear grinned. “I assume it’s not a communications manual, then.”

She shook her head, dismissing the idea. “Not hardly. It’s about the warp drive engine!”

“No wonder you’re so happy about it. Now, about your meeting with Dr Fong. That is supposed to be a private meeting between you two. Doctor/patient confidentiality, and all that. I understand why you want someone else here, but it isn’t very private if someone is. And it would be unethical for one of my people to listen in, especially since we’re still in the midst of an investigation of the incident that brought you here.”

“Does it have to be one of your people who keeps an eye on me?” she asked.

“Well, technically, the regulations only require an attendant be in here, capable of using the dashboard, in case of an emergency. But since you want someone here—”

“Bugs will be here,” she interrupted.

Bear hesitated. “He’ll be asleep.

She shook her head. “He went home 3 hours ago to rest. He said he’d be here by 2, and afterwards, he’ll go home and sleep as long as he wants. It’s his day off.”

Bear still wasn’t sure about it. The captain had suggested a nurse. “He’s not bound by the patient privacy issue.”

“No, but he’s my brother. Acts like my brother, and I’m certain he won’t go telling everybody all my deep, dark secrets. He hasn’t yet.”

It’s a solution I haven’t considered. Wouldn’t consider for anyone besides Mac and Bugs. The captain suggested... Well, this is my investigation. “Okay. Bugs, it is.” That seemed even better than Dr Fong and some nurse, because Bugs would have some familiarity with security protocols and the dashboard. Doctors and nurses were seldom cross-trained, while command cadets were cross-trained in nearly everything. “Okay. I guess that’s about it. I will let you get back to your reading, and I will go get something to eat and then a nap.”

“Good,” she told him. “You have to take care of yourself, Tall Person. I hope you know I would never have started this ugly mess if I’d had any idea how worn-out you’d get trying to figure out what happened.”

“Did you?” At her blank look, he went on, “Start the fight?”

“No!” she answered at once, looking aggrieved. “Winthrop was waiting in my quarters. I asked him what he wanted, and he said sex. I told him no, told him to leave, and he grabbed my arm, tore the sleeve off when I tried to get away. Then he grabbed my shoulder, really hard, and I pulled away again, tearing my tunic. He hit me, and that’s when I started fighting. In my mind, he started it. I just wouldn’t be cowed by his methods.”

“Okay, that sounds like he started it,” Bear said cautiously. It gave him things he could check out; was a sleeve torn off her tunic? Did she have finger bruises on her shoulder? He sighed and rubbed his face with one hand. But not right this moment. First, he needed something to eat. And then a nap. “Good night, Mac.”

“You, too, Bear.”

He left the brig, went to the security office and briefed Ensign Xavier—who would be covering for him this shift—on the day’s happenings and the arrangements that had been made. Then he made his way to the mess hall for a long overdue meal.