The Contest (Part 3)

Month 9 Day 9

(Shore Leave Day 10)

1410 Hours

Bugalu

Previously:

The Samson stopped lagging behind and seemed to come willingly. Bugalu added speed and put the Firebrand into a corkscrew orbit around the cargo ship, changing the size of the corkscrew at irregular intervals. Now he could take an occasional moment to aim and fire a gun himself, though he wasn’t sure he actually hit anything.

“Shields, 70%” YD stated.

“On it.” Mac stood up, flipped a couple buttons, opened up one of the top-side panels and began working inside.

Bugalu noticed a yellow light go orange. “We’ve had several hits at decks 9 & 10, NNW. Shields there are at 25%”

“On it,” Mac acknowledged, and kept doing what she was doing.

“Getting reports of minor injuries,” Beth reported. “Nothing that won’t wait. More ships are approaching, mostly in groups, but there’s 2 single ships approaching at high speed. One appears to be Scissan and the other hotheads.”

“How many crew on the Scissan?” Mac asked.

“Ummmm, over 50,” Beth answered.

“Doesn’t sound right. A typical Scissan ship holds 5 or less,” Mac stated, and finished what she was doing, started something else.

The orange light on Bugalu’s console turned bright green, but the other lights depicting the shields went dark. “What happened to the shields?”

“If I did it right, I boosted them,” Mac answered. “Now, I wonder what this knot of wiring is supposed to do?”

“She did what?” Smythe asked in the other room.

“Mr Smythe, I need more power!” Burke snapped at him.

Bugalu slipped his ship east to avoid an incoming shot. “Mac, I’ve got 1 green light on my shields display and the rest went dark!”

“I didn’t want to burn the lights out, but they should come back on when the shields get down to their usual 100%.”

“How much did you boost them?”

“75%. I think. That green light is where they were down to 25%, right?”

“Right.”

“Then maybe I’ve done it right.”

“How much more could you boost them?”

“Don’t know. I’m working mostly by guesswork.”

I doubt that. She must have studied even more than I’m aware of. “Beth, how many hotheads in that individual ship?”

“Supposedly, 500.”

Doesn’t sound like hotheads; their crews are usually a dozen or less, because they can’t get along among themselves. And they have a larger group of fighters by having a group of ships, instead of only one. So one of these singles is probably the captain’s team, disguised so we won’t recognize them. Guess I’ll have to play it by ear. “Mac, can we jam communications between these ships?”

“What?” She pulled her attention out of the interior of her console, if not her hands. “Sure, let’s do that.” Both of her hands emerged and flashed across her console. “Any particular group, or all of them?”

“Everybody you can reach.”

“You got it.” She flipped a switch and went back to inspecting the innards of her console.

Something is wrong. This is too easy. He studied his console, but found nothing except the dark shield lights that apparently meant everything was good there. A slight shiver in his chair brought his eyes to the screen, where he caught the tail-end of an expanding dispersal of an energy bolt in the shield. That doesn’t seem as large as it should be. Even with shields at full power, a hit should have sent a grumble through the entire ship.

Well, if this doesn’t show Mac – and Smythe – that she belongs in engineering, I can’t image what will.

Just to be safe, he rolled the Firebrand 180 degrees. Since his ship was fairly cylindrical, maybe his opponents wouldn’t realize his shields’ ‘tender’ spot had moved. Or maybe its new position would make it more difficult for them to hit. If they even realize we have one. Or would have, if Mac hadn’t augmented the shields somehow.

“Mac, I’m losing power in sick bay,” Beth stated. “I mean, I don’t have any patients yet, but… Oh, even life support is effected.”

“I’m tapping the engines pretty hard,” Mac returned, and turned to him. “Bugsy, how long do these games last?”

“As long as they need to,” he answered. “How long can we do without life support, Beth?”

“In the heat of battle? 2 or 3 hours, although it might get stuffy and chilly.”

“Mac, how good a grip do we have on the Samson?”

“As good as I can make it. As long as you don’t try to double our speed in under a minute…”

“Noted.” He studied his screen for a few seconds. The hothead and pirate groups were engaging each other. The 2 individual ships were mixed in, with several others sitting on the edges. It seemed like only nominal attention was being given to the Firebrand and Samson. “Seal all windows and dim interior lights by 50%. Shut off all exterior lights and life support. Keep the tractor beam and the shields strong, but give me as much speed as you can. Oh, and keep the jamming going, but fade it out over the course of 5 minutes. Got all that?”

“On it,” Mac confirmed, her hands already flying over her console. The lights dimmed. “Ready.”

“Let’s go,” Bugalu told his team, and pushed the Firebrand faster. How long before our opponents realize I’ve left?

The center of his screen showed only stars and asteroids. The scavengers were slowly sliding to the sides of the screen, and therefore being left behind. They were engrossed in fighting over the prize, and possibly didn’t realize the prize was moving away. Hope I can get up to a speed they can’t match before they decide to follow.

One ship was blasting away at any and all of the other ships. It was taking a few hits, but it kept flipping and rolling, changing position and speed so often, the chances that any one section of shield becoming fragile were practically nil. “Who are they?”

“Sensors say that’s the Scissan ship,” Beth offered.

“Captain?” YD offered.

Of course! An individual ship that somehow presented itself as a too-large ship of Scissans. Did their team do that, or is it part of the game?

The battle was behind them. Some ships decided they’d had enough and took off, but other small groups were still coming, eager to see what they could commandeer. The captain’s ship intercepted a trio that had decided to follow the Firebrand and engaged them. Bugalu pushed for more speed.

“Bugs, the engines...” Mac began softly.

“How long can you give me?”

“I don’t know. Minutes. Maybe.”

“Make them last as long as you can. We’ve got to get away. You turned off the jamming, right?” He turned the ship to run closer to a large asteroid. A dwarf planet, probably, it’s the right size.

“Jamming, jamming,” Mac was muttering to herself, and quickly studied every inch of her console. “Right. That’s off.”

Hope this works. “All crew members, hang on!” Bugalu torched all the maneuvering jets on his west side to slam his ship - and the tractored cargo ship - behind the dwarf planet. The Samson’s mass sent the 2 connected ships into a lop-sided twirl around each other. Between this and the corkscrew orbit, if they do find us, they’ll have a hard time targeting us. But I hope they don’t find us.

He couldn’t think in directions anymore; all he could do was keep his half-planned route in mind and guide the ship [Two ships, not just one. Got to keep that in mind.] for the next asteroid to hide behind for a few seconds. In this way, he hoped to put distance and several asteroids between him and all those other ships.

Observations & Worried Friends

Observations

Month 8 Day 20

1903 Hours

Jane Burke

This should do us all some good. We don’t spend much time together except for work. Why not? Nothing in common? I’m not proposing we become inseparable. Takor wants to learn about humans. And we might learn more about his people. Sounds like a win-win situation to me.

Jane glanced around as she crossed the main rec room and noticed a certain redhead sitting with several friends in a corner. I told her to spend time with friends, not be a recluse. Maybe I should follow my own advice. It sounded pretty good.

Duck looked up from studiously chalking the tip of a pool cue as she approached. “You do realize this is one of the most popular activities on the ship, don’t you? There’s already been 3 groups wanting this table.”

“Once in a while, rank has to have some privilege, not just responsibilities. As soon as the others arrive, we can start.”

“What others?”

“Smitty and Takor. We’ll play as teams.”

“When did Takor learn to play?”

“He’s about to. Here they are. Good evening, gentlemen. We’re going to teach Takor the human game of pool. He’s on your team, Smitty. Help it locate a cue.”

“Is this not a game played in water?” Takor asked.

“Afraid not,” Duck answered. “We don’t play many games in water.”

“I forgot. You have no gills.”

“That would make water games easier,” Jane said. “We can break out some breathing apparatus some day and give it a try. For tonight, let’s try this. Takor, I put you on Smitty’s team because you both speak the same language.”

“Do we not all speak English?”

“Yes, that one, too. But I meant math. Pool is a game of angles and vectors. Smitty, give him a basic rundown of the objectives of the game.”

As Smitty started, Jane noticed Duck’s attention was aimed across the room, where MacDowell was hurriedly making an exit from her group of friends. The redhead practically ran out, tossing a quick look at the pool tables as she left.

“I bet he doesn’t even realize what he’s done,” Duck muttered.

“Who’s done what?” Jane asked.

“Ah... Do you want to break, or shall I?”

“Go ahead,” she told him, and he walked off. MacDowell looked in our direction as she left. Duck wasn’t talking about me, and I assume not about himself. Technically, Takor isn’t male, though many of the crew refer to it that way. Smitty? Again? Wonder if I dare ask how her cross-training is coming.

Worried Friends

Month 8 Day 20

1912 Hours

Tall Bear

Bear watched Mac hurriedly leave, saw her glance at the pool tables. He noted every person in that area. “Bugalu, what’s her problem?” He realized he had interrupted someone. “Sorry, Temple. But Mac’s acting strange, and I’m worried about her.”

Abdulla sighed. “So other people have noticed, too.”

“I’ve noticed,” Temple stated. “But it seems random. Sudden bouts of nervousness that sets her shaking so hard… Or her mind goes blank and she doesn’t even remember she was talking, let alone what she was saying. Now this. So, Bugsy, what’s going on?”

Bugalu frowned at the coffee cup in front of him. “I don’t know. She won’t talk to me about it.”

“If she won’t talk to you...” Capac began.

“Yeah, how can the rest of us have any hope?” Della took over.

“There must be a pattern to it,” Bugalu stated. “She’s nervous at the end of her shift, for one thing.”

“I’m not surprised,” Bear stated.

“Wait,” Abdulla said. “Evans and Adams used to make her angry, not nervous. And Hauser said she gets jumpy just minutes before the end of shift, as if changing shift has her worried.”

“You know about Evans and Adams, then,” Bear confirmed.

“Of course. I thought she’d ask for help long before now, but until she does, there’s not much I can do.”

“She probably won’t ask,” Bugalu stated. “Usually when she protested that kind of attention at the academy, she was the one who got in trouble.”

Temple rolled her eyes. “Why don’t decent men ever stand up for a woman who’s sexually bullied?”

“I don’t know,” Abdulla agreed. “I’ll talk to some of the others on A shift bridge. Maybe if they spoke up…”

“I’m not sure they would,” Della chimed in. “Evans doesn’t just bully women; he has the entire A shift bridge crew cowed. They don’t like it, don’t like him, but he has more rank than they do.”

“Not by much,” Bear stated. “If several spoke up together…”

“Della, isn’t this when you leave for a date?” Capac asked.

“Not tonight,” she answered simply. “I’ve been taking notes every time it isn’t Adams doing the stuff he should be doing in A shift engineering. I haven’t done anything with it yet because, the last week or so, Smythe has hardly poked his nose into engineering! I don’t want him to mistake my notes as a rebuke of his… preoccupation. I’d rather not wind up back on his bad side.”

“I hear he’s working on a Yukosk transporter, now that the technical manual has been translated,” Temple stated.

“Ivy confirms that. Some evenings, he comes back to engineering for her help with a particular passage. Since she’s worked on a kind-of hybrid of it before.”

“Ivy still talks to you, after you monopolized LaPour for so long?” Bugalu asked.

“She can have him, if she still wants him. I tried to tell her he wasn’t really serious. Since I had no trouble pulling him away, she finally saw I was right. I hated to do it, but… she deserves better.”

“I think I’m insulted,” Abdulla stated. “I worked on that hybrid machinery, too, but he’s never asked me to help.”

“Because technically, you’re not an engineer,” Bear pointed out. “Smythe puts people in a category. Think of it as he’s looking for a tool. A particular tool; a particular engineering… screwdriver. If he can’t find one, if they’re all busy, or broken, then he might get the work done with a communications screwdriver. But it isn’t what he’s looking for.”

“I understand what you’re saying, but I don’t like being thought of as a tool.”

“It’s not a conscious thought,” Della explained.

Bear turned his head before the approaching woman could touch his shoulder. “I see you, YD. No coup this time.” The AmerInd woman smiled and drifted off.

“Wait,” Capac stated. “Wasn’t Mac doing something with Yellow Dog tonight?”

“You have a poor ear for lies,” Bugalu told him. “She gave us 6 reasons for leaving, and none of them were true.”

Abdulla asked, “Did one of us say or do something…?”

“Did you touch her, Capac?” Bugalu asked.

“She was on the opposite side of the table!” Capac reminded him. “The most I could have tried was to kick her, and I wouldn’t have known who I was kicking.”

“Bear? You sat next to her.”

“I know better. No, not even accidentally. But, I felt she didn’t want to sit over here. That she preferred facing the wall.”

“She’s that way at supper, too,” Temple agreed. “Well, breakfast for her and TB. We have to sit along a wall, and she sits facing the wall. Like she doesn’t want to see what’s behind her.”

“Did somebody come in just before she decided to leave?” Della asked.

They’re all looking at me. Makes sense; I’m facing the door, and I notice what goes on around me. “Yes,” Bear said softly. “A couple of fabrication guys joined that card game by the snack dispenser. And the group at pool table B.” Bear looked elsewhere for a time, sure that everyone else at his table had turned to see who was at pool table B.

“She likes Takor,” Della stated.

“And D- McGregor, also,” Temple added.

“Smythe,” Abdulla groaned. “I thought she’d get past that problem – whatever it was – once she passed probation!”

Bugalu turned back, and Bear caught his eye. The helmsman gave a slight shake of his head, looking troubled and thoughtful at the same time. That look says there’s probably trouble ahead. Wish I knew what kind.

The Meeting (Part 1)

Month 6 Day 26

0057 Hours

Captain Jane Burke

“Please, everyone take a seat.” Jane walked forward to her desk while sorting what to say and when, but as she turned, Takor’s appearance scattered her thoughts. “Takor, your gills are pink.”

Its gills - normally green like the rest of him and closed in air - were rosy and puffing, and the bones of its head crest softly clattered as they moved without pattern. I’ve never seen the crest do that.

MacDowell placed a hand on Takor’s shoulder. She spoke words full of sibilants, quickly. I thought she didn’t speak Sciss well? Takor responded, and with her brow furrowed in confusion, MacDowell asked Jane, “Too much peas?”

There weren’t any - Oh! “Sick bay!” Jane declared.

“I’ll take him,” both Smitty and MacDowell said, and each took hold of an arm.

“Sit!” Jane snapped. “I’ll call-“ She was interrupted by the tone that announced a visitor at the hall door. Jane stared in surprise. Who can possibly imagine I would be in my office this late?

The door slid open to reveal a copper-skinned woman in a loose caftan, her black hair in two long braids. I remember her, but not her name. After a brief bow, the tall woman entered and helped Takor to its feet. Without a word, the pair left.

The door closed, and MacDowell sighed in relief. “YD will get him there.”

“Y D?” Jane repeated, still drawing a blank on a name.

After a moment, Smitty cleared his throat. “Yellow Dog, Takor’s yeoman. You welcomed her aboard-“

Now I remember. A blond, a brunette and a redhead. “Yes. My mind was on other matters.” She pulled her thoughts together again.

“Is Takkore ill?” Kolla asked. “Doc Mac said he could eat the same foods as humans.”

“Yes, normally,” Jane assured her. “However, there are some foods that are too… rich for a Scissan. Takor loves the taste, but can’t digest a large quantity of them.”

Kolla stated, “Much of what was served is…rich. It depends what that means.” She grimaced. “Perhaps you should consult our nutritionists.”

“MacGregor can do that. Then we’ll all know what not to feed Scissans. They are normally logical and friendly, unless their metabolism is out of kilter.”

“Will they come here?” S’thyme asked. “Without any humans?”

“I can’t say. Most Fleet ships have human crews. Some – like us – have a Scissan aboard. The Sciss have smaller starships, smaller crews. But your translators know their language, so there shouldn’t be any problems, if any arrive.” Jane moved on. “I’m told you ladies share each other’s memories. Are you having any difficulty with that?”

MacDowell sighed. “I thought I was okay. But tonight, without thinking, I asked Zunabat how his Hortez were doing this year.”

Jane blinked. “His what?”

“Roses,” MacDowell responded. “Orchids. Well, neither one, of course, but it is a plant difficult to grow in captivity and thus a favorite among gardeners who love a challenge.”

She slipped into Kolla’s memories with one man out of the hundreds that were there? “You were no doubt happy to see a face that looked familiar,” Jane offered

MacDowell frowned. “I saw a lot of familiar faces. Mostly look-likes for co-workers or Academy students. And my grandmother. But I – Colleen – don’t know anybody who looks like Zunabat.”

Maybe I should have saved this topic for later. “One person out of… hundreds doesn’t indicate massive confusion in your mind. I’m hoping you don’t confuse our technology with Yukosk technology.”

“Oh.” MacDowell started to glance at Smitty, chose to stare at the floor. “Well, mostly, they work on different… wavelengths. Their technology took a few paths ours didn’t. And didn’t bother with some we followed. They mesh pretty easily.”

“As evidenced by what happened,” Kolla stated. “And how we managed to undo it easily, once we learned to communicate.”

“Easily?” Smitty muttered.

S’thyme answered. “It took generations of scientists to figure out our transport beam. Your radio was not part of our equipment. But in what - less than 2 days? - these 2 figured out how to make it work, using only variations of your equipment, none of ours. I knew my wife was smart, but… Zort!”

If only Smitty was equally impressed by MacDowell’s portion of that work.

“Captain?” Smitty stood up. “Might I address Lt MacDowell now?”

Trying to get back on my good side. If he’d done it in private, it would’ve sound like his idea, not mine, but it’s about time. Past time. Jane nodded.

Smitty didn’t look at MacDowell. “Lt, this ship has been in a state of… of… disarray… for a month or more. As the rest of the crew landed in sick bay, you filled the void without complaint. And when you eventually couldn’t, there were… situations we weren’t aware of, followed by… complications in your recovery. With the captain’s approval, I authorize another month of, uh, probation, to replace the last month, which has been so… chaotic.”

If Jane expected to see relief on MacDowell’s face, she was disappointed. There was moisture in the green eyes, but the redhead swallowed hard, her eyes bitterly cold. She muttered, “Thank you, Smit. Cap.” She stood and recovered her dress uniform cap from another chair. “Is there anything else you need me for, Cap? –tain?”

Jane sighed internally. I can’t blame her. After what she managed, while totally exhausted, and even if she did have Kolla’s help, I would have declared her probation done. I should have pressed Smitty to do that, not just give her another month. She gave a small cough. “Yes. Please sit down.” MacDowell sat. Jane went on. “Yukosk custom is for a successful negotiation to be celebrated at least as long as the negotiations lasted. The Council considers the negotiations started the moment the 2 ladies… merged. I have agreed to 21 nights of celebration, so we shall be here another 3 weeks.”

Smitty stared at her, then gave a short nod. “I’ll make arrangements to cover Colleen’s shifts-”

“No,” Jane stated. “Even before I knew Takor had over-indulged, I thought the Yukoskians should meet more of us.”

“Kolleen would like to get her life back to normal,” Kolla offered.

Jane smiled. “If I attend just 7 of your parties, I would no longer fit inside this uniform. So we’ll send up to 20 each night, with at least 1 senior officer. That won’t let everybody go, so we’ll make it a drawing. I’ll have my yeoman start the process. Those who want to attend a party can put their name in.”

“Ah… Winthrop-“ Smitty mentioned softly.

“Won’t put his name in,” Jane stated flatly. “Could you assist Blossum with that project, Smitty? She can assign the groups, but somebody with rank should notify those who are going and their supervisors.”

“Yes, Captain. The engines are purring, and I don’t expect any surprises, certainly not while we’re just orbiting the planet.”

S’thyme chuckled. “Isn’t that how this started? A surprise as you orbited our planet?”

Jane smiled. “True. Hopefully, we avoid repeating that event.”

After the Party

Month 6 Day 25

2357 Hours

Smitty

Sitting at the engineering console on the bridge, Smitty glanced around when the lift doors opened. Don’t be daft, Smitty. It’s only the midnight crew. The partiers won’t come from the lift.

Lt Xylander seemed surprised to see Smitty sitting on the bridge so late, but relieved Lt Garcia and sat down to start his shift without any comment. The surge of activity around him almost made Smitty get up, but he knew if he did, he would pace, and he didn’t want anyone to think he was nervous about... anything.

He didn’t know how much later it was when he heard Lt Evans ask, “Is that smoke? Does anybody else see that?”

Smitty whirled his chair around and saw 3 areas of blackness forming, coalescing... He smiled in relief, having seen this several times by now. “That, Mr Evans, is the way the locals travel through space.” I’ve never asked how far they can get with that beam. I’d think it only possible for relatively short distances. Hope I’ll have time to ask before we leave.

The blackness resolved itself into people. Smitty was happy to see that the 2 balls containing 2 people each appeared to have functioned correctly, but he wiped the smile from his face. Don’t need any loose lips wagging about nothing more than a smile.

Takor stood alone, wearing its dress uniform, which - other than being white - did not look much like the dress uniforms worn by the captain and Colleen. It stood silently, but Smitty couldn’t tell if it was as uncomfortable as its straight back implied.

“Wow!” the captain exclaimed, removing her hat. “That’s some way to travel! How far can it take you?”

“We’ve only used it between Yukosk and Nalo, our bigger moon,” S’thyme replied. The Yukosk wore bright gray, and the bearded man let go of Colleen’s hand to unfasten the jacket front and take a breath. “We are working to try to reach Qlon, the next planet out, but there is still much work to do.”

Colleen had been standing stiffly at S’thyme’s side when the beam had coalesced. As soon as the alien let go of her hand, she walked over to stand beside Takor.

“I wish we could be here to see you do that,” Capt Burke stated.

“I don’t recommend staying,” Kolla told her. “It could take us years to get ready for the first test. But now that we have a common radio frequency to communicate with each other, we will issue an invitation when it gets much closer.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Burke enthused. “I’ll be waiting. But in the meantime, don’t become strangers. In our culture, friends often send letters to each other. These are short communications where the sender tells the recipient what has been happening in his or her life since their last letter. And the recipient can reply with their own news.”

S’thyme seemed surprised. “This communication frequency is not intended for only formal communications? Between our government and yours?”

“Not specifically. One chan-uh, frequency is typically sufficient for several years of formal and informal communications. After a few years, as our member planets become familiar with your products, it’s likely more frequencies will be needed.”

Smitty let their conversation continue without listening to it. After that first strange conversation in sick bay, he hadn’t had much chance to follow up and have another with Colleen. Bugalu had taken to spending all his off time in sick bay with her, and Smitty hadn’t felt like intruding. What exactly is their relationship? He’s been spending almost all of the last week with her, but before that, he hadn’t made any changes in his... dating habits. His undivided attention seems to be what she needed, since MacGregor released her for duty tomorrow. Actually, today, since she had that celebration down on the planet, and it’s past midnight.

He glanced at Colleen where she stood next to Takor, took another look. She’s standing closer to Takor than I’ve seen a woman do. Most men won’t stand that close to it. It’s as big as Tall Bear and probably stronger.

Takor muttered something and Colleen’s green eyes glanced up at its face as a tiny smile found her lips. She muttered something in return, and Takor’s head crest riffled in amusement as Colleen’s smile widened a nano-inch. The captain’s conversation with the Yukoskians reached a pause, and Smitty heard Takor say, ”You spoke it very badly.”

“I haven’t had any time to practice,” Colleen stated, her smile gone. “I’m lucky I remember any words at all.”

“What are you 2 talking about?” Capt Burke asked. “Did I get something on my uniform?”

“Lt MacDowell told me a joke,” Takor answered. “The words were badly spoken, so I barely understood.”

“Oh. Maybe you should give the entire communications crew lessons in the next few weeks.”

Colleen turned an absolutely bland face towards the captain. “Captain. I know we’re behind schedule, but I didn’t think it would take that long to reach Ulseess.”

“No, it won’t, but-“ She stopped, and her face went rigid. “Mr Smythe didn’t tell you?”

Uh oh. Everybody on the bridge is listening, trying not to look like they are. On this trip, Ulseess is where we would leave anyone who did not pass probation, and Colleen expects to be one of those. Because I never made the time to... Smitty hastily stood. “Captain, I haven’t had a chance to tell her. Yet.”

Jane stared at him. “I see,” she finally said, and her tone said Smitty wasn’t going to wriggle out of this one. She gave the 4 people who had arrived with her a fragile smile. “Why don’t we go into my office for a moment? I believe we have things to discuss.” As she herded them all toward her office, her eyes bore into her chief engineer. “You too, Mr Smythe.”

“Yes, captain.”

S’thyme’s translator whispered, “I’m glad she’s not talking to me,” only to be shushed by Kolla’s translator.

Previously:

The Star Ship Fireball, captained by Jane Burke, welcomed 3 new crew members, all female, each with her own beauty and her own idiosyncrasies. The blond nurse was a flirt. The American Indian spoke less than Jane thought possible for a crew member. And the redhead communications lieutenant... couldn’t take her eyes off the ship’s chief engineer, Mr Smythe. Jane wondered which newcomer would be the biggest headache.

Lt Bugaloo, day shift helmsman, was surprised to see the redhead. An old girl friend, no doubt. Mr Smythe tried to hint - without actually saying it - that flirting with an on-duty crew member was not acceptable. His no-nonsense announcement that she would be working with him for the next 3 days, checking the wiring on the auxiliary bridge, brought a brilliant smile to her face and some phrases that... Surely the girl wasn’t flirting with him, now!

Dr Drake MacGregor, ship’s chief medical officer, always examined newcomers himself, with the assistance of his head nurse. The redhead - Colleen MacDowell - insisted he call her Mac, and tried to shorten his name to the same. She seemed friendly, and sometimes he thought she might be flirting. But it became obvious she wasn’t aware what she had said. All in all, he liked her, and within a few days, he ended up ‘adopting’ her... as a niece. Apparently, Bugaloo had been her real brother’s roommate at the Academy, and had adopted her to help keep her out of trouble.

Lt Abdulla, senior communications officer, Bugaloo, Capt Burke, Dr MacGregor and his head nurse, Beth Temple, each looked at Mac’s record, which looked fine... for a trouble-maker, which was not the type that usually got assigned to the Fireball. A deep study revealed inconsistent and contradictory entries. Mac had spent 4 years on 3 tugs, and for the most part, had been confined to her ship to do inconsequential duties, while everybody else had shore leave. Whoever had been trying to pressure her into sex - not necessarily the tugs’ captains, but Bugaloo suspected it was - didn’t care how badly they portrayed her as incompetent and rowdy. Well, rowdy, Bugaloo agreed. Back home, she’d had a father and 8 older brothers to protect her virtue. At the Academy, her heavy-world strength and 18 years of rough-housing with her brothers made her capable of protecting her own virtue.

Mr Smythe’s reason for working with a new communications officer was to assess her competency, but he found it strangely difficult to nonchalantly ask questions, and when he finally did - just before lunch - she blankly stated she didn’t know. He sent her off to find the answer, and she brought it to him as he ate lunch with the captain. Surprised, Smythe asked her to recite the question and hid his shock when he heard it. He dismissed her, then confessed to the captain that he hadn’t remembered what he had asked, but his first question certainly shouldn’t have been that one!

Smythe was surprised when Dr McGregor expressed concern over the redhead’s mental health, due to missing shore leaves since the Academy. Tugs have regular shore leaves. But the captain agreed, and had Doc spell out what symptoms Smythe should watch for, since he’s the one working with her. The more Smythe pondered these symptoms, the more they appeared, making him feel guilty for having asked such a difficult question.

As usual with new subordinates who haven’t yet proved themselves, Mac had an oral quiz after her first 30 days. She thought it would be administered by Sr Lt Abdulla, who's been friendly. And Mac had been refreshing her knowledge, so she didn’t anticipate difficulties. However, after the first question or two, Mr Smythe arrived to administer the test himself, and suddenly, Mac couldn't answer. He suggested she ‘study up’, which sent Mac into depression, and made Abdulla do a slow boil. Mac had been studying; Abdulla’s been helping her, and the girl had not missed one of her questions. Hadn’t missed a single question since she had panicked over his opening salvo, her first full day aboard!

Was this Mac’s problem with commanding officers? After scrutinizing Mac’s record, Abdulla hadn’t figured out who had taken a dislike to the girl, but somebody had been treating her unfairly. She didn’t know why Mr Smythe had taken a dislike to the new girl, because even if he wasn’t sure about a new subordinate, he usually gave them every chance he could.

So began a repeating cycle that lasted nearly the entire 6 month probation period. At the end of each month, Mac was unable to pass Smythe’s quiz, and vowed to study harder. Smythe saw her studying, so he couldn’t fault her for not trying. And as time passed, he started finding her sleeping, too; on the elevator, in the rec room, even sitting at her desk in her quarters. Her beauty became strained, and apparently, the stress wasn’t allowing her to sleep well. It seemed she wouldn’t be on board more than 6 months. Maybe then, he could get a good night’s sleep.

A virulent flu rampaged through the crew, and Dr MacGregor quarantined the ship. As more of the crew became sick, double- and even triple-shifts became ‘normal’ for those who had not yet succumbed. The less-than-skeleton crew had nothing to do but wonder when they would develop the yellow spots that would take them off-duty. To occupy their minds, Capt Burke instructed her crew to move into orbit around a near-by planet. A quarantined ship could not interact with others, but there was no rule against observing and making notes. In the middle of this, however, the communications console exploded, knocking out Lt Abdulla, who had returned to duty only minutes before.

So after working 3 shifts and part of a fourth, Lt MacDowell drug herself back to the bridge to start repairs. Her only help were 2 engineering technicians, but she gave them coherent instructions and then crawled into a front access panel. The next thing Burke knew, a loud blare came from communications, which Takor slapped off while MacDowell just stood, looking confused and even grayer than before. Something crackled between the Scissan and the Gaelunder, and both crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

Upon regaining consciousness, Abdulla returned to tackle the repair job herself, but it seemed everything in the console held an electrical charge that she couldn’t get rid of. When Mac regained consciousness, she started hiding, wouldn’t talk to anybody, didn’t even seem to hear them when they talked to her. Eventually, someone made the outlandish proposal that perhaps she had been ‘invaded’ by a native of the planet they orbited.

It turned out she had been.