The Message

 Month 14 Day 26 (day of wedding)

0701 Hours

Capt Jane Burke

Jane towel-dried her hair as she exited her private bathroom. She heard a gentle ping coming from her computer. A personal message? Can't remember the last time I got one of those. And it has to be an intra-ship message, or it would have come in my mail slot, which is a different tone. Well, it can wait until I'm dressed.

Getting dressed didn't take long, and then she slipped into the chair at her desk to see what the day held in store for her. The first thing was to open the personal message in order to get the repetitive ping to go away. That ping was beginning to get on her nerves. It wasn't supposed to repeat like that. It wasn't even a video message, but a typed one. How archaic, especially considering who it came from.

To: Capt Jane Burke

From: Lt Colleen MacDowell

Timestamp: Today's Date, 0033 Hours

Captain,

I have changed my mind and will not be marrying Mr Smythe this evening. I expect to take my usual days off today and tomorrow and to return to work on Monday, if the medical team lets me. My apologies for such short notice in this matter.

Uh oh. I don't like the sounds of that. What in space is going on between those two? There were no other personal messages, and all the work-related ones would be waiting in her office computer. Did they have a fight last night? Did Smitty finally confront her about her supposed pregnancy? Well, I won't find out what's going on by sitting here and asking myself questions I don't have answers to. How did a medical team get involved? She left her quarters, went directly to Smitty's.

She rang the doorbell, and the door opened. The living room lights came on as she entered, but the quarters were silent. "Smitty?"

She heard half a snort from the dark bedroom, and a muttered, "Colleen?"

I must have woke him. "It's Jane, Smitty. Aren't you up yet?"

"What? What time is— Oh. Sorry, captain, my alarm didn't go off."

Surely he could have thought of a better excuse than that. Nobody forgets to set their alarm if they want to stay in the Fleet. "I want to talk to you, Smitty."

"Aye, captain. I'll take a 2-second shower and be with you shortly."

For all that he promised a 2-second shower, it was more like a minute before she heard him open his closet to get a fresh uniform. While she waited, she paced back and forth between the sofa and the desk, until the glint of light off something on the desk caught her attention. Walking closer, she found 2 circles of glass sitting on the desk. When she picked them up, they were obviously a drinking glass that had somehow been split in two. Carefully placing them back where they had been, she frowned at what appeared to be a slight dent in the edge of the desk. What could possibly have done that? And how long has it been there?

"Captain, did you have any trouble getting in this morning?" Smitty called to her.

"No. Should I have?"

"Well, I did lock my doors last night," he muttered, just loud enough that she could hear him, although that might not have been his intention.

"Why did you do that?" There's really only one reason, and I thought he was serious about becoming a one-woman man.

It took him a moment to answer. "I wasn't alone last night."

Jane schooled her face not to show any emotion. She tried to keep her voice light and friendly. "Sowing some last-minute wild oats, Smitty?"

He appeared in the bedroom doorway, fully dressed except for his boots, which he carried in one hand. With the other, he picked up a rumpled, brown-stained towel and tossed it onto his bed. "I was with Colleen, captain."

So the problem isn't that he brought another woman here and the bride heard about it. "Have you given her residential rights to your quarters already?"

He looked confused by the question as he walked over to the sofa. "No. I haven't."

"Then how did she get out?" And when did she leave? Maybe sometime around midnight? When she went straight to her own quarters and called off the wedding? Disappointment or... what?

He sighed and started to put on one boot. "I suspect she fiddled with the lock mechanism. I'll have to look into that today." He picked up the other boot and paused. "I suppose she didn't want to wake me, for fear I wouldn't let her go. I wouldn't have wanted to, but I seldom tell her no."

"You were keeping her against her wishes?" That could put a damper on marriage plans.

"No! I mean, I don't think I was." He gave a slight shake of his head, his boot temporarily forgotten. "I wanted to take her to sick bay, but she kept putting it off. Then we got started with sex, and she enjoyed it as much as I did. Despite her injuries, which weren't that bad, after all."

"What injuries?"

Smitty grimaced and put his boot on. "A number of minor injuries, which won't make sense if I don't recall them in order. Let's see, she was very nervous and fussed with her glass of water until it broke, slicing her hands. But not very deep. But I saw blood, and jumped up to help her, which startled her, and she jammed her leg against my desk."

Jane glanced at the sturdy desk. She hit the desk hard enough to dent it?

"What was next?" he muttered. "I was headed next door to get MacGregor, and she stepped forward to stop me, her leg gave out, and she slammed her face against the edge of the doorway." He sighed. "That's going to be a strange bruise for people to talk about."

"You make yourself sound perfectly innocent, Smitty."

He looked up in confusion, which eventually turned to suspicion. "You can't think I did anything to harm her, captain! I'd never do that!"

Well, here we go. I hate breaking bad news. "Then why did she send me a personal message this morning telling me the wedding is off?"

Smitty stared at his commanding officer for several long moments as his face drained absolutely white. "She did what?" he finally croaked.

Unexpected Arrival

Month 14 Day 26 (day of wedding)

0008 Hours

Della Harris

When the bedroom door opened, letting the corridor light shine directly in on her, Della sat up in bed. "Who's there?"

"Oh, good, you're home," Tall Bear said as he walked the length of the bedroom. He was carrying something big, but for a moment, Della couldn't figure out what it was. "Your roommate had an accident, and couldn't get home from sick bay on her own."

"Accident!" Della jumped out of bed just as Tall Bear placed the redhead on the edge of the bed on the other end of the room. Half of Mac's face was blue, headed for a darker shade, her hands were wrapped in bandages, and one arm was restrained. Her disheveled uniform had smears of blood, already turning brown as they dried out. "What happened?"

"I didn't ask," TB answered. "Unless she files a complaint, I don't want to know. Can you, uh, help her get ready for bed? I think she's more or less on bed rest for the next couple days."

"Of course I will! Oh, what rotten luck to have this happen right before your weekend, Mac. Oh! Your honeymoon!"

"Hmm, honeymoon," Mac repeated blandly. "Thank you, Tall Bear. I don't know how I would have gotten to sick bay or home without you."

"Well, I figure you've made me into a brother by now," TB told her.

Mac gave him a lop-sided smile. "That's not official. Yet."

"Well, I have to get to Security, make my report about this encounter and sign in. You're likely to get someone coming around tomorrow to ask you questions about what happened."

"I'll tell them the same thing I told Dr Davis."

"Well, that's good. I guess. Get some rest."

He left. Della requested the bedroom light to come on, and then removed Mac's boots. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

Mac sighed. "A series of unlucky accidents." She watched as the 2nd boot hit the floor. "Now, help me get to my computer. No, your computer. Yours isn't busy with half a dozen programs running."

"What do you need a computer for?"

"I have a short program to run in the main computer, and a message to send before I go to bed. And my right leg isn't working well right now, so I need your help."

"Can't these things wait until the morning?"

"No. I expect things to fall apart in the morning. And I don't want to deal with it then."

I have no idea what she means by that. Is she even in her right mind, after taking a beating like she's been through? But Della helped her roomie limp to the living room and to the unoccupied computer. Typing with one finger, Mac was busy at the keyboard for at least 20 minutes. Della watched the screen, but got lost in the various files before 5 minutes were up. When Mac sat back in the chair and breathed a sigh of relief, Della finally voiced her confusion. "What did you do?"

"I don't want visitors this weekend. Like Bear said, I'm supposed to rest. So I placed a super lock on the doors. Only you and I are allowed to come and go, and I don't plan to go anywhere."

"What do you mean, a super lock?"

"If I did it right, even Mr Smythe can't use his superior rank to override the lock." She frowned at the keyboard. "I don't know if it will stop the captain, medical personnel, or security, but I can hope."

"Well, I guess I understand why you don't want visitors, but... even Smythe?"

"Especially Smythe," Mac said grimly as she rose to her feet. "The other thing I did was send a message to the captain, calling off the wedding. She'll get it in the morning. I assume she'll let him know."

Della moved forward to help her return to her bed. "Are you sure you don't want to send that message to him? Not that that's a good option, either. I suppose common courtesy says you should tell him face to face."

"I'm not feeling very courteous right now," she answered. "He made a wrong assumption about me, and didn't listen when I tried to tell him he was wrong. So, since he thinks he knows so much, let him figure it out himself."

"Is he... Did he do this to you?" I've seen Smythe's temper, but I've never seen him get physical with a woman.

"No," Mac answered shortly, and thankfully sat on her bed again. "He didn't do any of this. Well, we had sex, at long last, and apparently that's painful when it's the first time."

"Only for women," Della told her.

"That figures," Mac muttered, and considered her wrinkled and stained uniform. "Della, I hate to keep you up any longer, but I'd really like to change into pajamas."

"Of course," Della agreed. "Where are they? Do you want the striped or the lace?"

"Striped. Bottom drawer on the left."

It took some doing, to get the rumpled clothing off the redhead when she could hardly even stand on her own, and couldn't do much to facilitate her own release. Putting on fresh clothes proved easier, as by then, they had figured out how to work together. Plus the pajamas were a looser fit than her uniform, and slipped into place much easier. Della tossed the blanket out of the way, and helped Mac lay down.

"Thank you, Della," Mac said, and her voice was thin and wan. Tears started down her face.

"Are you in pain?" Della asked.

"Only... emotional."

"I'm sorry things didn't work out for you."

"Me too. Now you'd better get some sleep. It'll be time to go to work before you know it."

"How high do you want the blanket?" Della asked.

"Up to my chin. I know the temperature is constant, but the night seems to have gotten very cold, in my mind."

Della draped the blanket over her friend. "Try to sleep."

Mac gave a deep sigh. "I'll try." She closed her eyes, which squeezed more tears onto her cheeks. She told the computer to adjust the gravity on her bed.

Della went to her own bed and told the computer to turn off the lights. Wish I knew what Smythe did. I'd sure give him a piece of my mind about it! Ugh. I have to work with him tomorrow. I don't know which would be worse, having him unaware the wedding is off and him giddily waiting for it to happen, or having him know it's been called off, and him angry and depressed. Wish I could call in sick tomorrow.

Unexpected Patient

Month 14 Day 25 (day before wedding)

2318 Hours

Dr Margaret Davis

 Margaret looked up from her computer as someone stopped in her office doorway. "Where do you want your patient, Doc?" Tall Bear asked. He held a certain redhead, who Davis hadn't seen as a patient in some time.

Mac looked battered and disheveled, and Margaret wondered if she'd been fighting. "Any open exam table," she answered, and got up to follow him to the exam room. Where are the nurses? There were 2 on duty, but neither one was in the station in the lobby. Guess I'm on my own.

Mac was awake, but seemed to have trouble getting comfortable on the exam table. Davis realized the girl was only using one arm and one leg, the left in both cases, and it didn't include her left hand. Her clothes were spotted with blood stains, including in her groin. "Is there a second patient?" she asked Tall Bear. Mac isn't one to meekly accept attempted rape.

"Not where I found her. And she hasn't told me about any."

Would she have told him? "Tall Bear, what happened?"

"All I know is I found her on the officer's housing deck, leaning against the bulkhead and moaning in pain. When I suggested she come here, she said she planned to, but she didn't seem able to get here on her own. So I picked her up and carried her."

"I'm right here," Mac said through clenched teeth. "You could ask me."

"Tall Bear, could you go solve the mystery of the missing nurses?" Davis asked. "It's too late for a break, and I didn't give them any assignments, but that doesn't mean they didn't find something to do in the back."

"Sure, doc," the lieutenant agreed, and left.

"Okay, MacDowell, what happened?"

"Lots of unfortunate accidents," Mac answered. "Starting with a broken glass that sliced both hands."

"And this huge bruise that takes up half your face?"

The redhead grimaced. "You're getting ahead of me, Davis. After the cuts, I was startled and jammed my leg against something immovable. That's a big bruise, too. Then I unthinkingly tried to walk, the leg gave out, and my face was slammed against a doorjamb. When I thought it time I left, my leg gave out repeatedly, eventually slamming my shoulder against the bulkhead. That was when TB found me."

"Well, the hands will heal, but don't use them for a couple days. I'll wrap them to remind you. You are a mass of bruises on your right side, and a torn ligament in the right shoulder. I'll restrict that movement, give it time to heal. So, no working for at least 2 days, then we'll see. But even if you are allowed to go back to work then, your right arm will still be restricted, so you'd have to be able to function with just one hand."

"I'll make do. The next two days are my normal days off."

"Now for the really big question," Davis stated as she made notes in MacDowell's file. "Were you raped?"

Mac's head jerked in shock. "What kind of a question is that?"

"You're battered and bruised, including that area, so I would be remiss if I didn't ask."

"I told you what happened! My body bruises easily, so the least little thing makes me look a mess. If anybody had tried to rape me, I would have left him in worse shape than I'm in!"

"I understand that, so the next question is, who should we check on, to see how he's doing?"

"Nobody!" She was obviously angry at the thought.

"Mac, calm down and try to understand. Rape is a crime; I can't let it slide. And besides the physical damage, you may need counseling. If there was a rape. Or attempt."

"No rape," Mac said fiercely but quietly. "It was completely consensual."

"Your first time?" Mac gave a quick nod. Davis nodded. "Well, it could be sore for a day or two, but that area heals quickly. Come back to see me if it doesn't."

"You make it sound as if I won't be spending the next couple days in sick bay." Mac seemed either surprised or suspicious of the idea.

"I don't see why you should. I'll give you a temperature-control pad to help alleviate the bruises, but there's no reason to keep you here."

"Good. I'd rather not have any visitors."

That wasn't like the friendly young woman. "Why?"

"I'm supposed to be married tomorrow," Mac stated. "People will be curious when it doesn't happen."

Margaret considered that for a couple minutes as she bandaged the lieutenant's hands. "There's nothing medical that would keep it from happening." Is she worried about more pain during the honeymoon?.

"Maybe so," Mac whispered.

Nurse Oleander hurried in from the lobby. "Sorry, doctor, Qrilly found supplies in a mess in the big closet, and we need to get them straightened out before the end of shift, or we'll be blamed for it."

Monroe was working B shift today. "I'll pass that on to the next shift," she said. "As for our patient, she's torn a ligament in her right shoulder, so she'll need a restraint. And a temperature-controlled pad so she can care for her bruises."

Oleander looked at Mac. "Space, Mac, I hope you gave at least as good as you got."

"No other patient," Mac returned. "A series of accidents. Although if I told Dr Fong about it, I'm sure he'd say my nervousness and guilt made me do it to myself."

"Guilt about what?" Margaret asked.

Mac took a moment to answer. "Apparently, over nothing. I thought I'd done something wrong, but it seems I was mistaken. Anyway, I'll set it straight."

It was a fine example of Mac's logic, but Davis knew the redhead well enough to know she wouldn't get any more information about it, no matter how hard she pried.

"A shoulder restraint and a temp pad," the nurse repeated. "I'll be right back."

"Doc, if you don't keep me here, how am I going to get to my quarters?"

Davis looked up from fastening the 2nd bandage. The girl was genuinely concerned. "Why don't I ask Tall Bear to help you? Then neither of us will have to worry about your leg giving out again."

The redhead nodded. "Okay."

And then what? Will her roommate be home to help her climb into bed? Don't know if she'd trust a man to help her with that.

"Let me see if he's left yet." Davis walked to the lobby, where Tall Bear stood with his arms crossed. "Good, you're here. Ugly bruises, but nothing very serious, so I won't be keeping her. On the other hand, she can't trust her leg to support her, so she needs your help to get to her quarters. She says if you get her shoes off—assuming her roommate isn't there—and get her to the bed, she'll take it from there. And I don't recommend you even think of getting fresh with her."

"Wouldn't do it, doc. Her friendship means too much—" He stopped and thought for a moment. "Space! She has turned me into another brother!"

So much the better, in this case.

Oleander had come from the back room with the needed supplies in time to hear that. "Doesn't know what she's missing," she muttered, and hurried into the exam room.

Now that Davis had some help with her patient, it was only a few more minutes before Tall Bear picked up the injured redhead and carried her away. A series of accidents brought on by guilt. Guilt about what? 

Planning the Future

 Month 14 Day 25 (day before wedding)

2127 Hours

Smythe

 The bedroom lights were currently set to moonlight, and Smythe used the dim light to try to memorize the face of the beautiful woman who now slept in his bed. Of course, he could only see half of her face, for she lay on her side. The pillow and curls of her red hair hid the sharp demarcation of the impression of the edge of the doorjamb. If that was still visible. It might be gone by now, to show up in a few hours as a strange, straight bruise.

They faced each other, his arm under his head, her hands once again gripping the towel between them. After a period of time that seemed like forever, and yet, no time at all, her eyes fluttered, and opened. She smiled shyly. "Is it time to get up already?"

He glanced at his clock. "Far from it," he reassured her.

"Then why are you awake?"

He took a deep breath before admitting, "I can't believe you're here."

Her smile broadened. "I'm inclined to think it was bound to happen sooner or later, although, truthfully, I'm having a little trouble believing it, too."

"Besides that, I've been thinking about how little we've said to each other, for all the so-called 'talking' we've done these past 2 weeks."

"Well, I guess there's talking, and then there's 'talking'."

"Yes." He grinned, wished the towel wasn't crammed between them.

"If, when I lured you to the jeffries tubes to 'talk', if I had said I wanted sex, would we have done it right there?"

"In a jeffries tube? Not very private!"

"I tried to find a tube that wasn't used very much."

"And the 2nd time we were there, Wilson found us."

"So I asked for 'talk' and tried to see where it would get me."

"Eventually, it got you here." He reached up and pushed her curls behind her shoulder, let his hand fondle her upper arm. "But for all the non-talking we've done, there's some things I should have said. I should have at least let you know I've been making plans. I've got some pull, and I'll not let them send you planetside for 18 years."

Her eyes—at least, the one he could see—seemed to cloud over, and her eyebrow lowered in confusion. "Why would they do that?"

"Don't worry, because it isn't going to happen. I've been asked—more than once—to head a shipyard. I can pretty much take my pick. So I'm going to pick the biggest one, the Goliath. You'll go with me, of course."

"To a shipyard? I thought you liked it on the Fireball."

"Of course I do, but the Goliath is the biggest of the Fleet shipyards," he affirmed. "They build and refit 6 ships at a time. The station is located between Earth and Mars, and is a megalopolis unto itself. I'll request a 3-bedroom apartment, and set the gravity in one bedroom to Gaelund standard, so you won't have any trouble sleeping. Or maybe we can set half a double bed to Gaelund standard for you, and let me sleep on the other half. We may have to experiment and see what works."

Colleen seemed ready to say something, but he was on a roll, now, and gently placed a finger on her lips to stop her.

"You'll probably have to take a desk job for a time. Can't be helped, but I'll find something for you to do that won't drive you crazy. Well, unless I just put you on maternity leave and let you work out the kinks in that Yukosk transportation device. But that could get a little tricky. If you're on maternity leave for that long, and known to be working on new technology, there's some who will insist you've gone civilian. Unless you agree to turn over that device to the Fleet, will be their demand. I don't recommend that. Keep control of it for yourself."

"Ourselves," she interrupted. "Or wouldn't you be working on it?"

"I will happily help you work on it. Ideally, that would mean we would each work our own jobs during the day, and that device would be our hobby, to while away the evenings and weekends. At least until you do go on maternity leave. But I assume the baby will take up a lot of our time at that point, so work on it may come to a standstill."

She had slowly disentangled her hands from the towel, and now tossed it aside, wriggled her way forward to press her body against his. He happily pulled her closer, all thoughts of the future forgotten in favor of the passion of the present.

Sometime later, as they lay entwined but with the flame of passion flickering down to an ember, she lay her head on his shoulder. "Lights out," he told the computer, for he was tired and content, and ready for some sleep.

"Wait. You kept talking about maternity leave."

He sighed, too content to think there was anything strange with her curiosity. "As my wife, you'd have options, so it all depends how you want to play it. Until you deliver. After the baby is born, it's an automatic 6 months of leave. Then we can hire a nanny, and you can return to duty. At my side, as my protégé. If I'm running the place, who's to tell me no?"

"A baby," she whispered, as if she hadn't thought far enough ahead to realize her condition would result in that.

"Yes, of course your baby. Now, I told you, it doesn't matter. This time. But any other babies born to this marriage will be mine."

"Other babies," she repeated, and lifted her head to look at him. "But right now, you've been talking about this baby."

"We have to make plans," he told her as fatigue swept through his body. He guided her head back to his shoulder. "But we can talk about that another time. I know you've had a rough evening, so... let's get some sleep, okay?" He pulled her just a little closer and let his body relax.