Argument With a Friend

Month 16 Day 6

0058 Hours

Lt Cmdr Facchini, Engineering, St Elmo

It was the middle of the night, Stinky could tell by how quiet it was. Despite the various departments being open around the clock, they all got extra quiet from shortly after midnight until about 6 in the morning. Even the rec rooms and the gym. As if those who were still awake at those hours worried about waking those who weren't.

Stinky thought about asking for something to eat, wondered about the possibility of getting something a little heartier than a milkshake or a bowl of soup. Some movement at the doorway made him think the nurse had come in, but when he looked, it was Smitty, standing a few feet inside the room, staring at the redhead.

Another man, slightly older, came in and stood beside him. "She's not awake, Smitty," he whispered.

Smitty gave him a sharp look. "I didn't expect she would be!" he declared so quietly that Stinky could hardly hear him. "I actually came to look in on Stinky."

"I hope you don't call him that in front of his underlings."

"Of course not!"

"Good. He is awake."

"Oh. Good." Smitty turned his attention to Stinky's side of the room and approached him. "Good to see you with your eyes open," he whispered.

"I never dreamed if I ever had an emergency I couldn't handle myself, I'd be lucky enough to have you come in to fix it for me." He raised a hand in greeting, but they were both still swathed in bandages, and there was no way they could shake hands. "Now, tell me straight, how bad is it?"

"Well, it's not good," Smitty answered. "All your crystals blew, some more explosively than others. The power relays were all melted to sludge. You were right to be leery of those new relays; the labs say the innermost coating flaked off, and all those layers of materials were free to contaminate the crystals. I sent an order to fabrication to make a batch of old-style relays for us to install. Don't use those new ones anymore!"

Stinky shivered at the thought. "How many of the nacelles did we lose?"

"The north nacelle was the least damaged, but its bulkheads were warped and cracked. The other 2 had actually burst open. We've had to strip them all down and replace the bulkheads entirely. As soon as that's done, we can start going through the nacelle systems and rebuild those."

"And the diflaxibrophine that caught Red by surprise? Where did that come from?"

Smitty's smile faltered, and a glint of anger hardened in his eyes. "The pipes in the warp power alcove hadn't been properly evacuated and one of them ruptured."

"Oh. Bad luck. Especially for Red. I guess Lt Baker got overwhelmed, and evacuating those pipes just... slipped past him."

"Perhaps," Smitty agreed. "He's lucky the cracked pipe didn't rupture a few minutes earlier; it would have caught him full in the face."

Stinky's eyes widened, and he winced at the pain that produced. "You had him working in the alcove with cracked pipes?"

"He wasn't there at my direction!" Smitty declared. "In fact, he was in engineering against my orders! I'd also declared that alcove off limits until I could fix the cracked pipes! Which I did this afternoon. The last thing I told my people to do on my way to med bay with Colleen was to have Security take him to the brig "

"What do you mean he wasn't allowed in engineering? It's a blasted emergency! You need every engineer you can get your hands on! And Baker knows his stuff!"

"I know how much he knows," Smitty shot back. "He tried to transfer to the Fireball a few years back. Knew his stuff, yes, but it was his attitude I didn't like. I still don't like it, so I've got him working the same hours I do. He went to engineering when he should have been off, against my orders, and installed new warp power relays, as if he intended to install crystals and call the job done!."

"That's no reason to send him to the brig!" Stinky declared.

"Is this a private argument or can anybody join?"

Smitty whirled to face the other bed. "Colleen!" His voice was raspy with emotion.

"Yes, I'm still here," she answered.

"Sorry if we woke you, Red," Stinky told her. "I'm afraid we were having a disagreement."

"Yes, about Baker," she summed it up. "I'm sorry to disillusion you, Mr Facchini, but if Baker hadn't wound up in the brig, it would have been me. Well, except that I wound up here."

"Many women do not get along with him." Stinky nodded in understanding.

"I can't imagine why," Red said drily. "He pestered me ceaselessly at the Academy, nearly got me kicked out. He seems to have no understanding of the word 'no'. In fact, he seems to think he has a right to any woman's body."

Stinky remembered many of his female crew's complaints about Baker, and wondered if he should have taken their complaints more seriously. "Well, a young man finds himself with a beautiful woman..." He offered the same platitude he had offered so many times before.

"So, are you saying you condone his behavior, Mr Facchini? Pity. I was hoping I might like you."

"You can't really believe that!" Smitty told his friend. "A man's got to have self control, or he's no more than a beast!"

"But a beautiful woman—"

"Because she's beautiful, it's okay to rape her?" Red asked with acid in her voice.

"No, of course not, but romance—"

"It's not romance, it's rape," she returned, and he could hear anger in her voice now. "Because he wants it. He doesn't care if she wants it or not. His lust is all that matters to him."

"True, that's the attitude I saw in him," Smitty stated. "On a grander scale. All that mattered to him was how he was going to advance himself. Engineering is no place for giant egos. People have to work as a team."

"Everything okay in here?" asked the nurse that came in.

"Everything's fine," Smitty told her. "I'm afraid I had some rather bad news for Mr Facchini. We accidentally woke up MacDowell. But it's all settled now. I'll just leave and let them both get back to sleep."

Stinky raised a bandaged hand to catch his attention, wondered when the other man had left. "You've given me much to think about, old friend."

"I wanted to encourage you to get better," Smitty told him. "I'll check back in on you later."

"Smit," Red said timidly.

He turned to face her. "Yes?"

"I hate to complain..."

Smitty took a step forward. "I see Wilson brought your gravity unit. Are you having nightmares?"

"No. But my feet feel like... they're above me. She couldn't get the unit placed in the middle. I didn't think it would make much difference..."

"It's a matter of making the field form an unbalanced ellipse." He approached her bed, got down to the floor, and soon stood up again. "How does that feel?"

"Thank you. Like I'm actually laying flat. I'm sorry to have kept you from your bed. You must be tired."

"It was something I should have taught Wilson before now."

"If she comes again, I'll explain how you did it."

"You saw it?"

"I watched carefully."

Neither of them spoke for a moment, and Stinky wondered if Smitty was trying to think of something to say. In the end, the other engineer simply said, "I should go," and walked out.

Alone in the dim room again, Facchini wondered if the redhead knew who... "Psst! Red. You still awake?"

"Yes."

"Do you know who Mr Smythe intends to marry?"

There was a long pause before she answered. "Yes."

"He keeps forgetting to tell me. I'm dying to know."

A deep sigh. "It was me."

"Was?" the question popped out before he could think better about it.

"I... cancelled the wedding. Good night, Mr Facchini."

Poor Smitty. I wonder what went wrong between them? The fact that she's pregnant? Surprising, but you'd think he'd be happy about that. Never thought he'd be adverse to having a family.

Intensive Care Unit

Month 16 Day 5

1623 Hours

Lt Cmdr Facchini, Engineering, St Elmo

The redhead in the other bed awoke with a start. "Ouch," she told herself.

"Bad dream, Red?" he asked. His voice sounded tired and hoarse, even to him.

"No. Yes. I don't know. At least I didn't dream I was falling."

"I got caught in a crystal explosion. I'm surprised to find myself still alive. Do you remember what happened to you?"

"Um. Let me think. A cloud of gas washed over me. A cracked pipe must have ruptured. Yellow gas, from the warp power alcove, which would make it diflaxibrophine."

Ah. She knows the name of it. Must be an engineer. "Then you also are lucky to be alive."

There was a short pause before she responded. "Alive, yes. Lucky, maybe."

He let that pass, for now. If she's in pain, she might not feel very lucky. "I don't recognize your voice. Are you assigned to the St Elmo?"

She gave a short burst of hard laughter. "No, I'm from the Fireball. We answered Capt Valentine's SOS."

"Fireball?" I thought I'd dreamed Smitty was here. Well, that's okay, then. Smitty will put things right again. "You must be one of Mr Smythe's, then."

Another pause before she spoke. "One of his what?"

"Engineers."

"Oh. Yeah. For the moment, I guess I still am."

For the moment? Did Smitty pull her from a different department? He's a firm believer in cross-training, but I would expect him to bring his best over with him. He suddenly remembered another dream he'd had, that a woman was pregnant and had no doubt Smitty was the father. Did Smitty say anything about that? No, nothing about being pregnant. But he did say, the Smitty in my dream, that he wanted to introduce me to his protégé. And the woman he would marry. As soon as I woke up. Had he mentioned a name? For either one? "Colleen?"

"Everybody calls me Mac."

"Surely not Mr Smythe." Which one does the name belong to?

Another, longer pause. "No, not him."

He pondered what to say next. Or maybe I should just close my eyes and go back to sleep, let her try to do the same.

"Psst! Mac. They tell me you aren't asleep."

Stinky opened his eyes wide and craned his neck, caught sight of a brownette in a rumpled engineering uniform halfway between the door and the other bed.

"No, I'm not," Red confirmed. "Why aren't you, Ivy? It's not like you're getting a lot of time off today."

"Well, I was in bed, and falling asleep, when it dawned on me that you didn't have the right gravity in whatever bed you were in, and you wouldn't be able to sleep. So I brought the gravity unit to set up for you here." She approached Red's bed, then disappeared from view as she got down on her hands and knees. But she kept talking. "I wasn't sure they'd let me install it, but Nurse Temple, Dr Davis, and even one of the Elmo's doctors thought it would be a good idea, you being a heavy worlder."

"Thanks, Ivy. I've been trying to sleep, but I keep waking up. At least I haven't starting having nightmare about falling yet. I don't think I have."

"Hmm. The base is different on this bed," Ivy stated. "I can't place the gravity unit in the middle."

Med bay beds stand on a pedestal, for a variety of reasons.

"Place it as close to the middle as you can get it, and I'll see if I feel any difference in my feet. If not, it'll probably work."

The 2 women were quiet then, for a couple minutes, then the brownette climbed to her feet. "Okay, are you ready?"

"Do it."

"Computer, turn on gravity unit 1038 to Gaelund normal," Ivy requested, and turned a worried look to her friend when that woman grunted. "Should I turn it off?"

"No," Mac answered. "I'm just extra aware of every little tug on my body right now. The skin on my back is tight."

"Yeah, burns do that," Ivy stated. "I know you're not a fan of healing rays, but burns are the easiest thing for them to heal. You can't even tell where my burn was."

"Well, we'll see," Mac answered. "All I know for sure is I get to wear this blue glop until tomorrow."

"Good. The longer you wear it, the better a job it does."

"Ivy, you should be sleeping..."

"And so should you, Mac," said a blond nurse as she entered the ICU. Stinky didn't recognize this woman, either, so she must also be from the Fireball. The nurse walked over to Red's bed. "Wilson, go back to the barracks and get some sleep. You've had a long day."

"I don't mind..."

"Well, I don't like those dark smudges under your eyes. You have a good reputation with Mr Smythe, and I don't want to see you flub that up. Anyway, I have a flair for barking an order when I need to. Do I need to now? I've been a lieutenant longer than you have."

"No, sir," Ivy Wilson muttered, and stifled a yawn. "I'm sorry, Mac, but I really do need to sleep."

"That's okay, Ivy. Good night." They waited until Wilson left the room, then lowered their voices. "Okay, Beth, what's the prognosis for me?"

"There'll be no healing ray for your back, for fear of introducing unintended complications, given your condition. Instead, they've discovered an old-fashioned ointment to coat the burn with. They'll cover that with sterile bandages, some loose clothing, and you'll be allowed to go."

"To do what?"

"They'll probably tell you light duty."

"Oh. Paperwork."

"You might remind Mr Smythe that the burn does not affect your mouth nor your brain."

"I'll never get into a uniform with my back covered in bandages."

"Leave that to me. Now, do you need something to help you sleep?"

"I don't think so, but the next time I wake up, could you send for a milkshake for me?"

"What flavor?"

"Ohh, pineapple if they have it. Otherwise, chocolate."

"You got it. Have you given any thought to your hair?"

"I've thought about shaving it all off, let it all grow out at the same time."

"Well, that's a little drastic, but you could do that. Or, you could have what you still have cut into curls to frame your face. I think that would be very flattering."

"Shaving it all off would be easier to care for it."

"Sleep on it," the nurse suggested, and then was leaning over Stinky's bed. "Mr Facchini, do you need something to help you sleep?"

"No, but I could use one of those milkshakes that Red mentioned. Strawberry, if you please."

"I'll send for it right away."

Back to Work

Month 16 Day 5

1404 Hours

Ivy Wilson

As she and Mac had been instructed by Mr Smythe, Ivy had allowed Lt Zolka to give kudos to the tech who had finished rebuilding the latest system, and Ivy clapped long and hard when the system was turned over to main power. Startled, she jumped when someone spoke behind her, although her name wasn't spoken loudly, "Wilson."

She whirled. "Mr Smythe! How's Mac?" Diflaxibrophine poisoning isn't something to take lightly. And his face is so... confused. If she were okay, I'd expect relief in his eyes, at least.

"What?" He seemed preoccupied. "Oh, uh, decontaminated. She'll be fine. Come to the office and brief me."

"Yes, sir. Of course." They walked toward the office, with Ivy feeling just as confused as Mr Smythe looked.

Zolka joined them halfway there. "Technician Yassir just finished the cooking system, Mr Smythe," Zolka stated, showing the paper in his hand.

"Hmm? Oh, good. Uh, give them a 15 minute break before tackling the next system." It was the standard 'reward' they'd been giving for finishing a system.

"Already done, sir. How is Lt MacDowell?"

"Fine!" he bit out, then took a breath and let it go. "Decontaminated and recovering." They stepped into the office. "Let's get this briefing done so Lt Wilson can go off-duty and get some sleep. By the way, where's Baker?"

"In the brig, sir," Zolka answered. "For disobeying an order and dereliction of duty."

"Good. Very good. I'll call Security in a few minutes and make sure everything's in order. I... don't know how long it will be before Colleen—Lt MacDowell—is released from med bay. Therefore, I have no... official... mouth to speak for me when I'm off duty. I'll continue to brief you shift supervisors, and be briefed by you, as I do with my own people, and I would appreciate it if you would continue to work closely with my people, particularly with Lt Wilson, here, who did a great deal of training of Col—Lt MacDowell, when she transferred to engineering. As long as we communicate openly, we'll make good progress. Under no circumstances are you to accept orders from Lt Baker, but I don't expect him to be released from the brig anytime soon. And speaking of him, do we have any idea what he was doing in the warp alcove?"

"Once the gas was evacuated, I took a look," Ivy answered. "Apparently, he got some new warp power relays from supply and had put them in place, preparatory to installing new crystals."

"Well, those will have to come back out. I don't want us mistakenly leaving them there when we get the old design relays fabricated. I obviously waited too long to repair the cracks in the pipes in that alcove. I'll tackle them this afternoon, if you can find me a welding buddy, Zolka."

"Ensign Griffin is the best welder on my shift," he answered. "I'll find someone to replace him on what he's doing."

"Good. Thank you. So the cooking system is finished. Anything else been finished since midnight?"

Ivy and Zolka spent several minutes enumerating what had been accomplished since midnight. Smythe, Ivy noted again, seemed preoccupied and occasionally had to ask for clarification, which was unlike him. The once or twice he mentioned his protégé, he hesitated before calling her 'Lt MacDowell'. That's different. Before, he unthinkingly called her Colleen, as if that's the only way he thinks of her, as a woman. What's changed?

They finished with a report that the north nacelle bulkheads were nearly repaired, the starboard nacelle had been stripped of damaged bulkheads, and the port nacelle was nearly stripped.

"Good," he stated when they finished. "Very good. Carry on, Mr Zolka. Wilson, you are relieved, but if I might have one moment of your time before you leave..."

"Yes, sir."

Zolka saluted, took a piece of paper from the 'unfinished' pile, and left. Smitty deftly closed the door and turned to face Ivy. "Lieutenant, I'd be truly beholden to you if you could answer a personal question for me."

What in space—? "If I know the answer."

"Who has Colleen been dating?" he asked. "I know I don't usually care for gossip, but that's what I'm asking for. Who has she been seeing, dating, sleeping with in the past... 2 months, or so?"

"Mac?" Is he joking? No, he's serious. What can he be thinking? Mac? Date? "She tried a couple dates back when she first came aboard. They didn't go very well."

"More recently than that," he insisted.

"Mr Smythe, the only one I've heard of her dating recently has been you." He blinked and then gazed at the floor. Not knowing what that meant, she went on. "Frankly, once you 2 got engaged, I can't imagine how she could have seen anybody else. Her days started with sleeping—which she had to do in her own bed, of course—then duty, then she spent her off-shift with you." She frowned, suddenly uncertain. "At least, everyone assumed you 2 were together during your off shift. Neither of you could be found. Except that one time when I... happened across the 2 of you."

He glanced at her hurriedly, his cheeks flushed. "I remember." His voice lowered into ruminations. "But she was already... So she can't be..." The office doorbell rang, bringing him out of his troubled thoughts. "Yes, well, it's a conundrum, and I'd appreciate if you just forget this conversation, Wilson. He opened the door. "Thank you for your input. I'll see you again at midnight."

"Of course, Mr Smythe," she agreed as she stepped out.

"Mr Smythe?" asked the ensign standing nearby. "Lt Zolka said I should report to you for a welding assignment."

Ivy walked out of engineering, intending to hit the mess hall for a meal before heading to bed. She thought about checking in on Mac in med bay, but decided to sleep first. Mac will still be soaking in that blue gunk. Probably sleeping, if she can. Let her recuperate some before I barge in. And what happened that suddenly has Smythe wondering if she's been seeing someone else?

Personal Crisis

Month 16 Day 5

1244 Hours

Drake MacGregor

Drake was surprised by Smitty. The man not only held Mac's hand during her decontamination, he never uttered a word of complaint when his uniform got more wet than not as they sluiced warm water over her to wash off the remnants of the pink foam. He helped move her to a med bay gurney, and even used his free hand to help spread the blue glop that was the final stage of decontamination.

The back of her uniform wasn't the only thing that had dissolved from contact with the gas; the back of her head was now devoid of its brilliant red hair. Drake wondered how to break that to her. It would grow back, but he couldn't guarantee it would still be red.

She had taken the brunt of the gas on her back, the back of her head and the backs of her arms. All of that was now a dark pink, and some of the area blistered. It was good Smitty had been so prompt with the detox foam. Just as he was now thorough in applying the blue glop.

Mac jerked awake and her head flailed from side to side as she tried to see what was happening, then she groaned in pain and settled down on the gurney. "Smit!" she called in what sounded like panic.

"I'm right here," he told her firmly. "Hold still, so we don't accidentally rub this decontamination goo on too hard. You've got some bad chemical burns back here."

"Not that bad a burn," Drake corrected. "Thanks to Smitty's quick action with the detox foam. It'll be swollen and painful for a time. But this blue stuff works wonders, given a little time."

"MacG," she sighed in relief. "I wondered whose hands I felt."

"Dr Francine Lister is also helping," Drake explained. "We're almost done."

"Then can I get some clothes on?"

"Not yet," Dr Lister said. "This stuff needs time to work. You'll be confined to bed, on your stomach. The closest we can come to clothes will be a blanket, loosely wrapped around you."

"Sounds... nerve-wracking," Mac stated softly. And then, suddenly, Smitty had 2 hands free to apply the blue glop. Slowly, Mac raised her hand to lightly explore the back of her head. "I've lost my hair, haven't I?" There was the sound of tears in her voice.

"It'll grow back," Drake assured her.

She gave a short nod, and then sobbed, probably from the pain of moving skin that no longer had elasticity.

"Try not to move," Dr Lister told her. "In fact, sleep as much of the next 24 hours as you can. Tell the nurses when you're ready to eat, and they'll bring you something, probably a milkshake or soup. Something you can eat through a straw."

A few minutes later, they draped a blanket over her, then rolled the gurney into the intensive care ward of med bay. 2 nurses stood by to assist, and they quickly moved her from the gurney to a bed with a hole through it for her face. "The least you could do is have an interesting floor pattern," she jokingly complained.

"I can give you something to help you sleep," Drake suggested.

"Without Gaelund gravity?" Mac asked. "No thanks. I'll do my best to sleep, but no guarantees." She waved her hand a little on the side where Smitty stood, and he took hold of it. "Smit, looks like all the excitement is over, so you might as well go back to work."

"I should," he agreed, but made no move to do so.

"Don't worry, Smitty," Drake told him. "A few hours to let the blue goo work, a few sessions under the healing ray, and she'll be well on her way to recovery."

"Not the healing ray," Dr Lister said, and pointed to a particular light on the lower left corner of the display board. "Nurse Underhill, check to see if we've already run afoul of any contraindications, just by following emergency protocols. I'll check to see what we can do from this point."

"Yes, doctor," the nurse agreed, and all 3 women left the room. Smitty watched them in confusion.

Staring at the telltale light, Drake muttered to himself, "How did I miss that?" Then without thinking, he asked, "Mac, are you pregnant?"

She gave a deep sigh. "Pretty sure."

Drake used controls on the display panel to get more information. "About 5 or 6 weeks, then," he stated.

"What?" Smitty asked.

"I tried to tell you," she reminded him softly. "You're wrong, MacG. It's only 4 weeks.

"Four weeks!" Smitty dropped her hand as he took a step back.

Why the discrepancy? And why is Smitty having such a strong reaction? Don't tell me he still believes she was pregnant when he proposed to her!

"I know when I had sex," Mac whispered, and raised her head to look at Smitty. "I've been trying to talk to you," she pleaded.

Smitty stepped back again, confusion, disbelief and a host of other emotions racing across his face. He woodenly said, "I should return to work. When he wakes up, Colleen, introduce yourself to your roommate, Benedicto Facchini." Then he turned and left.

Mac sank back on the bed, completely deflated. "I waited too long," she sobbed.

Smitty's reaction completely baffled Drake, and so he turned to the problem of the medical discrepancy. "So, you've based your estimate on when you had sex?"

"Oh, who cares how far along I am?" she muttered.

"I do," he stated, and doggedly asked, "When was sex?"

She snorted. "The eve of our wedding day," she retorted. "But I cancelled the wedding because he still believed I was already pregnant, and he'd planned out our entire life without consulting me about any of it."

"Well, you're right, that was about 4 ship's weeks ago."

"So I don't know where you get 5 to 6 weeks," she returned sourly.

"Because pregnancy is calculated in Earth weeks, not ship weeks," he explained. "So that makes it 4 1/2 weeks. And it's also calculated from the first day of your last menstrual cycle, which might have been anywhere from 1 to 3 weeks before the sex. Our machine gives a guess based on how developed the fetus is." When she didn't respond, he gently asked, "Is that the only night it might have happened?"

"What do you want from me, MacG? That's the only time I've had sex."

"So there's no doubt Smitty's the father."

"No. None." Her voice was strained and hard to hear.

Drake reached out to pat her shoulder, thought better of it and patted her hand instead. "We'll get it straightened out," he promised.

"Go away, MacG."

He nodded, even though she couldn't see it. "Okay."

"But first," she added hurriedly, "could you hand me a tissue?"

He placed the requested item in her hand, then left the room, uncertain the tissue would be of any use, but certain the nurses would keep a close eye on her. I'd better find a way to get Smitty thinking. And thinking right, instead of listening to rumors.

"How's Mac?" Nurse Temple asked as Drake passed the desk with the read-outs from the Intensive Care Unit.

"Depressed," he answered. "And... well, you've seen her readout."

"Yes," she agreed. "Now her questions make better sense."

Of course questions. As sheltered as she's been, in some ways. "How long ago?"

"A couple weeks."

"Sounds right."

"How did Mr Smythe react?"

"Lousy" He shook his head and muttered, "Going to have to talk some sense into him."

Headed for Blows & New Crisis

 

Headed for Blows

Month 16 Day 5

1125 Hours

Ivy Wilson

Wilson entered the St Elmo engineering office to find Mac fiddling in the doorbell panel. She stopped in surprise. "Something wrong?"

Mac slapped the panel closed and turned away. "Nope. Nothing."

She's still not very good at lying. "Okay. Everybody's making progress, but I don't expect any more systems to be done before we go off shift. How are you holding up?"

Mac gave a tight grimace. "I could use some more ginger tea, but I doubt I'll put off sleep to get it."

"Losing its effectiveness as a pick-me-up?"

The redhead shook her head, checked her top-knot to be sure it was still—mostly—contained. "Why do I need a pick-me-up if I'm going to bed to sleep for a week?"

Ivy smiled. "You won't get a week, but I understand. Save the pick-me-up for when you get up."

"Yeah. It doesn't help that ginger tea isn't on their menu, and I have to explain how to make it every time I get some."

Ivy glanced at the chronometer. It was almost 11:30. "I expect Mr Smythe will show up soon. He'll want to debrief us on how much we've gotten done."

"Still waiting on results from the science labs," Mac stated. "You might check and see how the EV team is doing with the nacelles." Mac stifled a huge yawn and looked at the various screens showing engineering, then stepped forward and peered at one in particular. "Ivy, call security. Baker's here." She stepped out of the office without saying any more.

Ivy sent a quick message to security, then glanced at the screens to see where Mac had gone. A bright red top-knot was headed straight for the warp alcove, which Smythe had told them to leave alone! "Oh, no." She hurried for the alcove herself, and Lt Zolka fell into step behind her. "Baker's doing something in the warp alcove," she told him.

"Thought that was off-limits," Zolka returned.

"It is."

They heard raised voices, talking over each other. Ivy peripherally saw somebody enter engineering, and then Mac exclaimed, "I said get out!" And Baker came stumbling out of the alcove backwards.

 

 

New Crisis

Month 16 Day 5

1130 Hours

Smitty

Smitty's back stiffened as they approached engineering, for he could hear voices in argument, and one of them, he was afraid, belonged to Colleen. As they stepped into the engineering lobby, he plainly heard her declare, "I said, get out!", and an engineering lieutenant came flying out of the warp alcove. When he took a second look, it was Baker.

"I'll have you up on assault charges, MacDowell!" Baker threatened.

"Go ahead and try!" She appeared in the alcove doorway and faced him, her hands on her hips. "I already sent for security, because you disobeyed a direct order!"

Before Baker could respond, there was a loud 'crack', and a thick yellow cloud of gas blew from the alcove, knocking Colleen a step forward as it engulfed her.

"Oh, space!" Smitty ran forward, struck the emergency button for the alcove, and the door came sliding shut, cutting off the rest of the yellow cloud. He grabbed the spray tank of antitoxin off the wall and waved his free arm, frantically trying to dispel the gas so he could see where Colleen was.

"Mr Smythe, she—"

"Shut up!" he barked, and aimed a squirt of pink foam at Baker's face and chest, in case the yellow gas had reached that far. Colleen was on the floor, the back of her uniform blackened and disintegrating. He directed pink foam over her entire form, then rolled her over and did the same for her front. The front of her uniform wasn't disintegrating as quickly as the back, but he made sure to get a thick coating of pink foam over her face.

Baker was coughing and rubbing pink foam from his face. "Are you trying to kill me?" Smitty ignored the idiot.

Wilson was operating emergency devices to shut off the flow of the diflaxibrophine gas before it got to the warp alcove. Lt Zolka knelt beside Colleen and called out, "Somebody call med bay!" Then he reached out to remove the dissolving uniform.

"We are med bay," Dr Lister stated. "Is there a litter nearby?"

"Stop it!" Colleen choked out weakly, her fists flailing around her.

"Stop, before she hurts you," Smitty told Zolka, and handed him the tube of antitoxin. Then he knelt and began peeling the remnants of the uniform from her skin, his efforts hampered by the severe shivering she was doing.

The foam on her face had mostly dissipated, and her eyelids fluttered. "Smit? I-I'm freezing!"

"That's because of the gas you got hit by," Smitty told her.

"Technically—" MacGregor started.

"Drake!" Smitty barked out. She doesn't need technical correctness right now, she needs reassurance. "Baker, get a blanket, and I want it NOW!" He pulled most of the front of her uniform off her, and had Zolka spray her with more of the pink foam. She groaned as the foam hit her, and her shivers worsened.

Lt Romanoff approached with an emergency stretcher. Baker—wonder of all wonders—returned with one of the emergency blankets.

Colleen grabbed Smitty's hand and gripped as hard as she could, despite the slipperiness of the foam. "Smit! What's happening?"

"You got hit with a toxic gas," he answered. "You'll be in med bay in no time."

"No!"

"You have to go to med bay, Colleen. That stuff is nasty, and they've got to make sure it's totally neutralized." He thought that would reassure her, and her grip would loosen, allowing him to get her on the anti-grav litter, but if anything, she gripped him even harder.

"I have t-to t-talk to you! H-h-have to!"

"Let's get her on the litter," Dr Lister encourage. "On her stomach."

"As soon as they get done with you, Colleen."

"No." But her voice was weaker. Her eyes were fluttering, trying to close. Her whole body was jumping, trying to shiver harder than it could. But her grip was still strong.

"She's going into convulsions," Drake said. "Ivy, Francine, and Smitty, help me get her on the litter, now!"

Others who were standing around tried to help lift her to the litter, but both Drake and Smitty warned them away. "She won't let you," Drake told them.

"She's unconscious!" Zolka protested.

"Won't stop her from lashing out," Drake returned.

In a short time, Mac was on the litter, on her stomach, with the blanket draped over her, and strapped down as best they could despite her violent quivers. She still had a hard grip on Smitty's hand.

He looked to Wilson. "Have security take Baker to the brig for disobeying a direct order," he told her.

"What?" Baker exclaimed.

"They're on their way," she told her boss.

Drake put the litter into gear, and it moved for the exit. His hand still gripped tightly, Smitty walked alongside the litter, looking back at Wilson. "I'll be back as soon as I can!"

"I'll be here," she promised.

"Mr Smythe, there's no reason for you to come to sick bay," Dr Lister told him reasonably. "Your work is here."

Smitty tried not to glare at her, and grabbed at the only reason that wouldn't be laughed at. "She not just my protégé," he said. "She's my fiancée!"

Startled, Lister looked at him, then at Drake, who pursed his lips, but didn't negate the claim. "Very well," she gave in, and they picked up the pace.