Continued Failure & Big Brother Again

 Continued Failure

Month 15 Day 1

1814 Hours

Smitty

 Like Abdulla and Wilson, Smitty watched in dismay as the cube of gelatin tried to solidify, but quickly slumped into a pool of goo that covered the bottom of the petri dish. Oh, bloody hell.

Abdulla muttered under her breath. Her tone made it plain she was not saying what a lovely day it was. "Well, no need to get upset," Smitty stated evenly. "We're still in the early stages of testing. Let's take our measurements, make our observations, share the information among ourselves and then set the problem aside for tonight. Just forget completely about it."

"Easier said than done," Wilson stated. "I've been doing nothing but think about it this past week."

"Mind going around in circles, is it? Getting you absolutely nowhere?" he asked.

"You know it," Abdullah confirmed, while Wilson nodded.

"I suggest going to the gym for a hard workout," he told them. "Don't give your brain a chance to actively think about the disappointments we've had so far. We do need to think about the problem, but first we need to break the cycle of going in circles. It hasn't done us any good. We need to start fresh, look at it from new angles, not just the same old thoughts we've been having. So, a hard workout, then some relaxation. Tomorrow is soon enough to start looking at the data we've accumulated, look for something we hadn't noticed before."

"I wish Mac had been able to be here tonight," Wilson stated. "I know, she's on light duty, so she couldn't be here, but—"

"Not anymore," Smitty blurted out.

"What do you mean?" Abdulla asked. "Then why isn't she here?"

"Oh, well, there was an incident in the mess hall at lunch," he answered. "It aggravated her thigh injury. MacGregor took her to sick bay to assess the damage, and kept her there the entire afternoon, sitting in a healing ray." He grimaced at the thought, having memories of what a healing ray felt like. "I hope she comes back to light duty tomorrow."

"Light duty?" Abdulla repeated. "After that long under a healing ray, shouldn't she be back to full duty?"

"I doubt it. Healing rays aren't that good. Or fast. Plus, they were using it on her thigh, but it's her shoulder that's reduced her to light duty. Knowing the side effects of a healing ray, she was probably too worn out by the time they got done with her to think of anything but sleep. She probably didn't even remember we were meeting tonight."

"That... would take a bit, to make her forget Joe and George," Wilson said.

"Believe me, you can't sleep while you're under the healing ray. But once they turn that off, sleep is all you can think about."

Both women sighed in resignation. "Well, let's finish up here so I can go do a workout," Abdulla suggested.

"Sounds like a plan," Ivy agreed.

 

 

Big Brother Again

Month 15 Day 1

1841 Hours

Bugalu

 When they finally got to a door into Mac's Quarters, Bugs was struggling to keep Mac on her feet. The last 2 times they had paused for her to 'catch her breath', she had actually fallen asleep while leaning against the bulkhead. He very nearly hadn't gotten her woke up the 2nd time, so he had pushed really hard to get her this far.

It was her living room door they came to first, but he didn't care. Cajoling to get her inside, he half-carried her to the sofa and got her laid out on it haphazardly.

"Thank you, Bugs," she muttered, and was sound asleep.

"You're welcome," he mumbled, breathing heavily, and sat down in the nearest chair. Space, she's heavy! Well, duh, she's a heavy-worlder. Thought I'd have to leave her sleeping on the floor someplace and go find Tall Bear. Or Ferguson. Both of them probably in the gym. He leaned back for several minutes, until he caught his breath. Well, we seem to be back on good terms again. And no sign of Smythe as we made our way here. Good. If she still wants him, she doesn't need any more complications getting in the way.

With his thoughts on the engineer when the hall door opened, he jerked around. "Della!" he identified the newcomer.

"Boy, you're jumpy," she commented, and then noticed Mac asleep on the sofa. "What's with Mac that she couldn't get to bed before she fell asleep?"

"She spent the afternoon in sick bay, in a healing ray. And then took a detour to the mess hall for food. I almost didn't manage to get her here before she passed out."

"But she doesn't sleep well without heavy gravity," Della reminded him. "Should we see about getting her to her bed?"

"I don't know, Della, I'm pretty wiped, having gotten her this far." He took a deep breath and stood up. "I say, leave her where she is, for now. I'll go to the gym and get Tall Bear to come and move her. She's extra heavy."

"I keep forgetting that. Explains why I saw Mr Smythe grimace when she landed in his lap today. Here I was thinking he should have been happy that's where she landed, so the look of surprised pain on his face didn't make any sense. Well, you go ahead and find TB. I'm in for the evening, so if she's still got the doors on super locked, I can let him in."

"Super locked?" he asked, and held up his hand. "Never mind. She doesn't want to see anybody."

"And particularly not a certain somebody. By the way, what's the idea of sending her flowers and making me say they're from him? She wanted me to send them back! I had to explain I couldn't and why, so now she wants to know what the idea is. Or has she asked you?"

"Not yet. Not in the condition she was in. And I did it because I had no idea why the marriage was off, so I thought I'd try to smooth some of the anger out of her. Apparently, the problem runs too deep for flowers."

"Yeah, I don't really understand the problem, either. You should have seen when she reported for duty this morning. I think the only thing she said to him was 'yes, sir'. All very formal. Very frigid. Not like her at all."

"Hmm. I've seen her like that a time or 2. Takes a lot to get her there. Takes time for her to cool off. If she really wants to patch things up with him, I hope she doesn't take it too far."

"Does she? Want to patch things up?"

Bugalu hesitated. "I think so. But... it's complicated." He started for the door. "I'll be back in a little." He walked out, headed directly for the gym, whistling because he had his sister back, with all her problems.

Catching Up

 Month 15 Day 1

1711 Hours

Bugalu

Bugalu frowned at his meal tray and glanced around the nearly empty mess hall. Well, doesn't look like she's going to show up for supper. Is she still taking meals in her quarters? Della was here earlier, and I didn't see her take off with a tray of food. Maybe Mac went to the privacy dining room. In any case, there doesn't seem to be any reason for me to stick around here any longer.

He disposed of his tray and left, only to stop short just outside at sight of Mac leaning against the wall a few feet from the mess hall entrance. Her right arm was in a sling, and the right side of her face was bruised. "Space, you look a mess," he told her.

She stared at him for a moment, as if weighing his words, then she grimly stated, "And that's just the part you can see."

He couldn't tell what her mood was. Her face—all of her, really—just sagged, as if she was exhausted. Why had she stopped here? "Are you waiting for someone?"

"Something," she responded, and took a breath. "The energy to go inside and eat."

He went to her left side and draped her arm around his shoulders, slipped his arm around her waist so that he could help her walk. "Did you just get off duty?" They started into the mess hall.

"No, I never made it back to engineering this afternoon. I only just got out of sick bay."

"I thought you were on light duty."

"I was, until somebody backed his chair into my bad thigh at lunch."

Bugsy winced at the thought, knowing how badly Mac could be bruised. "I hope you gave him a piece of your mind."

"I was too busy trying to stay upright," she answered. "Didn't even see who it was." She sighed. "And then I landed in Smit's lap, of all places."

She sounds upset about that. Would have thought— Space, she must be very angry with him.

Mac stopped next to a table. "I have to stop here. I can't go any further."

"I thought you just got out of sick bay. Why are you so worn out?"

"They had my thigh under a healing ray for 3 hours this afternoon, trying to mitigate the damage from that chair back encounter."

Healing ray. They don't use those very often because the accelerated pace of healing leaves the patient completely wiped. He realized she had continued talking, and he hadn't heard what she'd said. "I'm sorry, Mac. My mind wandered."

She gingerly sat down in the nearest seat. "When they got done with the healing ray, I still had a second physical therapy session to get through before they'd let me go."

And she's hungry as a black hole because a healing ray wipes out the available sugar in a person's body to facilitate the healing. "What do you want? I'll get it for you."

She hardly even paused before she started her list. "Juice, oatmeal, toast, hot tea,—"

"You're having breakfast?"

She simply continued with her list. "Lemonade, any kind of sandwich, mashed potatoes and gravy, and a piece of pie. Or cake. Or both."

"That might take more than 1 tray," he told her. "But I'll start with breakfast, and then get some lunch."

From the way she shoveled in her food, he supposed she didn't want to take time to talk. So he sat quietly and watched her pack the food away. Only when she started on her lunch items did she slow down. And then she ventured to open her mouth for something that wasn't eating.

"Remind me to never get so badly bruised again that I need a healing ray."

"Usually, that would mean, don't get into fights, or don't get mad, but the bruise on your face doesn't look like you did either one of those."

"No, not this time." She drank half her lemonade to wash down the sandwich and potatoes. "All these injuries are because I was super nervous, trying to tell Smit the truth. And even after I thought the ordeal was over, it turned out he still believed... the falsehood."

"That's too bad," he commiserated. He waited until she took her 2nd bite of chocolate pie before he stated, "But you were fine with that belief not so long ago."

She gave a brief nod, took another bite of pie, glanced around to make sure she wasn't overheard. "I can't have him transfer off this ship when he doesn't need to."

"Ahh." He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "But once you're married, you could open your medical files to him."

"True." She took a sip of lemonade and made a face. "Should have rethought my choice of lemonade."

"Do you want something else?"

"No. I'm almost done." She glanced around again. "But we'd be married, then, and he might feel I'd tricked him into it. Even though it wasn't me who told him that lie."

"Can't you open your medical files to him before the wedding?"

"I don't know. I'd probably have as much luck doing that as opening my medical files to you. Neither of you are actually related to me."

"Hmm. We've had this discussion before, about how stupid the Fleet can be."

"Yes." She finished her pie, threw her napkin atop her 2nd tray. "At last, I start to feel like I've eaten. But I'm still worn out. Guess I'd better go home and go to bed."

"That's about what I've heard about healing rays, that the cure is worse than the injury. How much healing did they manage on your thigh?"

"Approximately the same amount of damage done by the chair back," she answered. "So walk me home, will ya? There's still a chance the leg will buckle from time to time."

"Sure. I'll get rid of your trays, and we can go." A few minutes later, Mac gingerly stood up, and he slipped his arm around her waist again, like he'd done so many times before. He hoped they weren't seen by Smythe, who, he'd been told, considered the wedding postponed, and not cancelled.

Further Damage

 Month 14 Day 28

1211 Hours

Dr Drake MacGregor

 The mood at the lunch table was... strange. Strained? Maybe tense? Drake wasn't sure what word described it. Smitty was completely preoccupied and tended not to respond until the 3rd or 4th time his name was used. Jane was testy and then contrite for being testy. Drake felt that he preferred being alone for this meal, during which Smitty's preoccupation was a constant irritant to Jane.

"Smitty!" Jane said again, and perhaps she kicked the engineer's foot under the table.

"Hmm?" The tactic seemed to work; Smitty actually raised his eyes to look at her. "Yes, Captain?"

"I hear you've got MacDowell on light duty for a few days. How's she doing with it?"

"Fine," he answered. "She seems to be picking up the paperwork almost as fast as any other aspect of the job."

"Even with only 1 hand to use?" Drake asked.

"Well, I haven't been watching over her shoulder," Smitty answered. "But one-handed hardly seems to have slowed her down, once she understands the paperwork."

"Good to hear," Jane told him, and went on, lest he get lost in his thoughts again. "What aspect of engineering is she least adept at?"

"What?" Smitty seemed surprised by the question, and then flustered. "Well, I... I don't know that I can say, captain. She hasn't been in engineering long enough for me to have made a full appraisal of her skills."

"Really?" You usually have your doubts by the time they've been there a week. I haven't heard you express any doubts about this one at all. Not recently, anyway."

"Here she comes," Drake stated. Holding her tray in her left hand and hardly limping at all, Mac followed Harris as they threaded their way across the mess hall floor in search of a table with room for them. And then, Drake could only watch in horror as an inattentive crew member scooted away from his table, sending the back of his chair into Mac's injured thigh.

"Oww!" The redhead hopped on her good leg, trying to retain her balance. It was no use. Drake reached out to grab Mac's tray before it fell to the floor. Mac combined hopping with heavy limping, but remained off balance.

"What the—" Smitty turned his chair at the commotion, and somehow, Mac landed in his lap. After his initial shock, he asked her, "Are you alright?"

She took several rapid, deep breaths, and wiped away a tear with her good hand. "I don't know. I'll have to see if I can walk."

"Well, not right away," Drake told her, setting her tray on the empty side of the table, across from Jane. "Let that leg rest for a few minutes, at least. You can sit here with us."

"Yes," Jane agreed. "And then report to sick bay before returning to duty."

"She's already scheduled for physical therapy after lunch," Smitty stated. "If she needs support to get to sick bay, I'd be happy to provide it."

Mac frowned and carefully moved herself off Smitty's lap and to the empty seat. "Thank you for the invite, captain. I'm not certain I could have gone any further at the moment." She glanced at Smitty, then at Drake. "As for lending me support to get to sick bay, it makes more sense for Dr MacGregor to do it, since he will no doubt be headed that way."

"It would be my pleasure," Smitty stated. "It would give us a chance to talk."

Mac gave him a slight frown. "There's nothing to talk about."

"I beg to differ!"

"You're entitled to your opinion," she returned. "Allow me to clarify. I have nothing to talk to you about, and no desire to listen to you."

"That seems pretty harsh," Drake muttered.

Smitty stared at her in surprise. "But what have I done?"

"You could at least tell him that much," Jane said calmly.

Mac squirmed—as much as her injuries would allow her to—and took a drink of her iced tea. Looking only at her food, she stated, "He decided to put me on light duty without discussing it with me."

Jane didn't comment. Smitty protested, "I made that decision based on what Dr Davis said were your limitations!"

"I wasn't speaking of today," she responded, and took a bite of her sandwich.

"But—" Smitty began, and then subsided, a confused look on his face.

"Was that bit of talking so difficult?" Jane asked the girl softly. "Sometimes talking can accomplish quite a lot. I wouldn't rule it out so blithely, if I were you. For instance, if you feel you need more time to heal, you might talk to your superior officer about that."

"Never mind," Mac said, with a hint of sullenness in her voice. "If I can get to his office, I can do paperwork."

"Good. Glad to hear it," Jane told her. "I'm sure you'll give it the same dedicated attention you afford all things engineering. And communications. Don't you agree, Mr Smythe?"

Smitty looked up from his tray—which despite his staring at it, he hadn't eaten anything since Mac had fallen into his lap—and took a moment to piece out what had been asked of him. "Oh, yes, captain. She'll do a fine job." If he expected his words to mollify Mac's mood, he was disappointed.

"I will do the best I can, within my... limitations," Mac intoned, and continued eating.

"Certainly, nobody can ask for more than that," Drake stated. He also continued to eat, trying to finish his meal at about the same time as Mac. Obviously, she found this situation irritating, being trapped at the same table as Smitty, whom she didn't want to talk to, and the captain, around whom she had to be careful what she said. Mac certainly wasn't wasting any time eating her meal, which consisted of finger foods, no silverware required.

Before long, Mac stuffed the last of her cookies in her mouth, chewed a few times and washed it down with the rest of her tea. She glanced at Drake and tossed her napkin on her tray, eager to leave. "Thank you again for allowing me to join you, captain. If you'll excuse me, I'm rather eager to get to sick bay and start my physical therapy."

"Not to mention find out if any additional damage has been done to your leg," Drake added, tossing his napkin atop his half-eaten pie. "Let me dispose of our trays, Mac, and then we can be on our way."

"We'll take care of your trays," Jane stated. "Get her to sick bay and take care of that leg. And the shoulder."

Caught off-guard, Drake didn't know how to respond for a moment. "Thank you, Captain. That certainly would be a help. Come along, Mac, let's go." He lined himself up on her right side, waited for her to stand up.

She slid out of her seat on her left side, holding onto the table for added support. "I can't hold on to you on my right side, MacG, I need you on my left side."

What was I thinking? Well, I was thinking that her right leg needed the support, so that's the side I should be on. But it won't work, in this case. He walked over to her left side and took a firm grip on her arm. "You ready?"

"I hope so." And they did get out of the mess hall and half way to the lift before her leg buckled the first time.