Using the Rules

Month 16 Day 4

1527 Hours

Lt Jamison, Engineering, St Elmo

Steve Jamison's wrench dislodged from the bolt head, and his hand banged against a manifold. He raised his skinned knuckle to his mouth, and that's when he saw a stunning redhead in an engineering uniform enter the department. Wow! She is not from the Elmo. Must be from the Fireball. Can't be the Mr Smythe I talked to a while ago, though. Where is he? I expected him to come in like the calvary to the rescue.

She started for the engineering office. Jamison hurried to catch up with her. "Can I help you, lieutenant?"

She paused to look at him. "Who are you?"

"Lt Steve Jamison, A shift supervisor of engineering."

"How long have you been working, Jamison?"

The question caught him by surprise, and his mind spun, unable to figure it out. He heard himself answer, "What day is it?"

She nodded. "Never mind. Do you know where Lt Baker is?"

"Probably inspecting crystals for installation," he answered. That's what he's been doing since this happened.

"He's not in the office?" she asked.

"I don't think so." He licked his stinging knuckle and asked, "Where's Mr Smythe?"

"Saying hello to Mr Facchini," she answered and quickly went on. "I'm his protégé, Lt MacDowell. All work is to cease as of now. Everyone can take a half hour break, then report to Mr Smythe here in engineering for instructions." She took half a step away and then stopped again. "Please go to sick bay to get that hand looked at. We don't want it getting infected."

"Lt Baker isn't going to like this," he blurted out.

"That's okay," the redhead said with a tight smile. "I haven't liked Baker since the Academy."

She kept going, disappeared into the office and closed the door. As Steve stood where he was, wondering what would happen next, the intercom system came on, and the redhead's voice came over it boldly. "This is Lt MacDowell, protégé to Lt Cmdr Smythe of the Fireball. In response to the SOS sent out by Capt Valentine, the Fireball has responded, and our engineering team will now take responsibility for all engineering activities on the St Elmo. All repair work will cease until further notice. All personnel who have been working on repairs may take a 1/2 hour break, then report to Mr Smythe in engineering." There was a short pause, and then she added, "Lt Greg Baker, please report to the engineering office."

People were slow to stop working, but they did. One by one, they started to exit, each looking as worn out as the one before them. Lt Vojeck paused to ask Jamison, "What's going on?"

"The Fireball has arrived," he answered. "Maybe now we can do this the way it's supposed to be done."

"Well, yeah, but where's Mr Smythe? He sent his protégé in his stead?"

"Smythe is saying hello to Mr Facchini. I got the feeling he needed to calm down before he relieved Baker."

"I'd rather he didn't calm down. Baker needs his head chewed off."

"Could still happen," Steve told her, remembering how barely contained Mr Smythe's temper was when they had spoken.

"What's his protégé like? He never even mentioned he had one, when we spoke."

"Well, you heard her on the intercom," Steve answered. "She's all business. Oh, and like you, she doesn't like Baker."

"Then she's got taste."

Baker came into the engineering lobby, angrily telling those who were leaving to "Get back to work!" He said that to Jamison and Vojeck, too, but Vojeck just grinned.

"The place is under new management, Baker," she told him. "And management told us to take a break."

"We'll see about that!" Baker declared, and strode over to the office door. It didn't open. He rang the doorbell repeatedly, and finally resorted to banging on the door with his hand, which probably hurt, since the door was metal.

"Come on, Jamison, let's get something to eat," Vojeck suggested, trying not to smile at the spectacle Baker was making of himself.

"You go ahead," Jamison told her quietly. "I want to see what happens. And then go to sick bay. By request of Mr Smythe's protégé."

The intercom came on again. "Lt Greg Baker, report to the engineering office!"

"I'm right here!" Baker declared, and pounded on the door some more. "Unlock this door!"

Vojeck hadn't moved away. She seemed engrossed in the tableau that was unfolding before them.

It took another minute before the office door opened, and Baker glared at the redhead, whose face was noncommittal. "Oh, there you are. About time."

"I didn't know there were any tugs in the area, MacDowell," Baker growled. "And how in space did you get a lieutenant's stripe?"

She used a hand to push him away from the doorway so she could step out. "I got promoted when I was transferred to the Fireball. Now, come with me." And she started for the exit.

Baker didn't budge. "Where do you get off telling my people what to do? You're not even in engineering. I ought to tear that fake uniform off you."

She stopped. "Touch me, and I'll charge you with assault." She raised a finger to tell him she wasn't done, and turned to the 2 shift supervisors. "Lt Jamison, when you speak to Mr Smythe, tell him the office doorbell doesn't work. I can't imagine it has anything to do with the warp drive ruptures, but if he wants, I'll look into that when I get back."

"The doorbell works fine!" Baker erupted.

"If it did, you would have alerted me to your presence when you arrived. When did you arrive? As for where I got the authority to issue orders, I got it from the Fleet's regulations. Section 55, Paragraph 9 states that when a Fleet vessel issues an SOS, and another Fleet vessel comes to assist, the relevant department of the assisting ship shall take control of the same department of the ship being assisted. My announcement over the intercom served as your notice that you were relieved."

Baker wasn't giving up. "That means that the commanding officer of the assisting ship relieves the commanding officer of the ship being aided. You're nothing but a lieutenant!"

"Therefore, to be sure all bases were covered," MacDowell went on, "Mr Smythe went to sick bay to inform Mr Facchini he was being relieved. He sent me to relieve whoever was in charge down here, and and to issue his orders on his behalf as it states in Section 99, paragraph 47."

"I was in charge down here!"

"Exactly. Was. Now you aren't. If you want to argue about it, take it up with Mr Smythe. Or your captain. But the regs are clear on the matter."

"You can't speak for Smythe!"

"I most certainly can, having been given instructions to do so, and being his protégé. Now stop dawdling and come along. We have work to do."

"I was working!"

"Mr Smythe wants the warp engine nacelles removed from the power grid. He was shocked to see that it hadn't been done yet."

"Told you," Vojeck said.

"Shut up!" Baker told her. "There's plenty of time to do that, MacDowell. They aren't harming anything."

"The proper way to address me is either Lt MacDowell or Mr MacDowell. Maybe you have convinced yourself that the nacelles are not producing any further damage, but that certainly isn't the impression we got from seeing them from the outside. Or perhaps you haven't done it yet because you don't know how."

"I had better things to do!"

"Your protests make me believe you don't know, so come along, and I'll teach you. Otherwise, you can explain to Mr Smythe why you refused his order." She turned and walked out, expecting him to follow.

Baker gaped after her, his temper rising even more with every step she took, but finally, he stomped after her.

"Wow." Vojeck stated in admiration.

"And she's the protégé," Jamison added. "Can't wait to see how Mr Smythe treats Baker."

"You may be right. We just might see him get his head chewed off after all. Now if we're going anywhere, we'd better do it."

"Right behind you," Jamison said, and followed her out of the department.