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.