Call for Help

Month 16 day 2

15:32 Hours

Bugalu

Bugalu waited impatiently for the end of his shift, which had been uneventful, like most shifts on a Fleet starship. It's time for me to sit Mac down and have a long conversation with her. Whatever her problem is, I've got to get to the bottom of it. She's been quiet, preoccupied and often morose for the past couple of weeks. Or longer. Scattered into that mix are fitful bouts of anger, which frequently seem to be directed at Smythe, though she won't say so directly. But nobody can tell me what the problem is between them. Every time I ask her, all she does is shrug and tell me to forget it. I'm tired of not knowing what's going on. It's time, even if she doesn't want to discuss it. So help me, if Smythe is harassing her in some way, I'll go straight to the captain.

He glanced at the chronometer and silently sighed in frustration.

The captain was having a quiet conversation with Takor at the science console, and Bugs tried not to listen. Conversations between those 2 were often confusing for someone not that familiar with the Sciss physiology. And then Abdulla broke into the conversation. “Captain, we’re receiving an SOS from the St Elmo.”

“Recorded or live?” Burke asked, her conversation forgotten as she whirled to return to her command chair.

“I- I’m not sure. It… There, it just started repeating, so probably recorded.”

“Patch it through and send an acknowledgement. Ask how we can help.”

Bugalu heard Abdulla manipulate her controls and whisper into her personal mic as the call for help was transferred to the speakers.

“…from the St Elmo. Requesting assistance from whoever can get to us. Our warp engines exploded unexpectedly, throwing us severely off course before we could regain control. All we have are impulse engines, and we’re not sure about them. Astronavigation puts us at approximately 351, -115, 2021 from the Bergosi Star. Repeat. All Fleet vessels who hear this message. This is an SOS from the St Elmo. Requesting assistance—" It went silent as Abdullah cut it off, and then a live voice came over the speakers.

“Hello, Fireball. You’re the first to answer our call. This is Captain Yolanda Valentine of the St Elmo. We're in stable condition right now, but we're currently drifting, uncertain we can trust even our impulse engines at this point.

"Our chief engineer and most the engineering staff from the B shift are in sick bay, some of them in bad shape. We’re not even sure what happened. So if you could spare some engineers to help us get things put right, and maybe a few medical personnel, it would be greatly appreciated.”

“This is Captain Jane Burke of the Fireball. Of course we can help,” Burke answered at once. “I’ll notify my engineering and medical departments and start for your location right away. I estimate it’ll take us 2 days to reach your location, so if you could turn on a homing beacon in about 36 hours, that will help us locate you.”

“We’ll do that, Fireball. As I said, we’re drifting right now, and not even sure of our speed. I'll have Astronavigation take another reading in 12 hours, and give you an update on our speed and course. We’ll look forward to seeing you in about 2 days.”

“Stay safe,” Burke told her counterpoint. “We’ll be in touch.” The bridge speakers went silent, and Burke punched a button on the arm of her chair. “Smitty.”

It took him a second to answer. “Yes, captain.”

“How are our warp engines? Have you got all those blips tamped down?” Blips? Bugalu wondered to himself. I haven’t heard Mac mention any blips.

“Yes, captain,” the engineer returned immediately. “The warps are fully ready for whatever you want.”

“I need a 2-day run at high gear. Warp 10, if you can keep it there,” Burke told him and broke the connection. “Capac, have you got our new course plotted?”

“Yes, captain.”

“Bugalu, change course and head out, full warp.”

“Yes, captain.”

She pressed another button on her chair arm. “MacGregor.”

“Here, captain.”

“We’re headed to give assistance to the St Elmo. They had an engineering accident of some kind, and most of one engineering shift is in sick bay.”

“I’ll coordinate communications with Abdulla, so we can be prepared when we get there.”

“We'll be there in about 48 hours.” She closed that circuit and opened the one to engineering again. “Smitty, how are those warp engines doing now?”

It took a little longer for him to answer this time. “Working perfectly, captain, and approaching warp 9. Will you be wanting any more than 10.2, captain?”

“Let’s not test our luck,” she told him. “Warp 10 should be enough. The St Elmo said their warp engines exploded. Always makes me nervous to hear something like that.”

“The Elmo,” Smythe repeated. “Captain, they recently had some sort of modification made to their warp routing couples.”

“Now, how would you know that?” she asked.

“I’m good friends with their Chief Engineer. He wrote me about it a few weeks back.”

“Oh." She hesitated half a second. "Uh, Smitty, their Chief Engineer is in sick bay. You not only will be assisting with repairs, you may be called on to figure out what happened.”

“I understand, captain. Uh, if Stinky… Lt. Cmdr. Facchini... is in sick bay, did they mention who’s currently in charge of that investigation?”

“Have Abdulla set up a contact line for you. One of his shift supervisors, I would assume, but I didn’t get any names.”

“Right. I’ll do that. Will there be anything else, captain?”

“No. I trust you to keep things humming down there.”

“Thank you, captain. Smythe out.”

And just like that, the emergency was handled—for now—and assignments were given. And Bugalu’s shift still wasn’t over, though it was closer to it.

With preparations for an engineering and medical assist to make, will I even be able to find Mac this evening to talk to her? That can be hard to do without being in the midst of planning an assist.

A Chance Encounter & Another Chance Encounter

A Chance Encounter

Month 15 Day 18

19:57 Hours

Bugalu

Bugalu jumped up from their shared table and pounced on the pool table as soon as it opened up. "Come on, Mac, let's play some pool," he invited.

She got up and walked over, selected a pool cue. "The designers should have installed more pool tables," she commented. "It's almost impossible to get any time on one."

"They'd have to remove some of the electronic games," he returned. "And believe it or not, some of those actually sharpen certain skills."

"Yeah, yeah, so you've told me."

"Don't suppose you'd care to share the table?" MacGregor asked as he approached.

Smythe stood back, looking at Mac uncertainly. "Drake, we can find something else to do."

"If we have to," MacGregor returned to his companion. "I haven't played pool since the Verasis Flu was rampaging through the ship. I'm not sure I remember how."

Bugalu turned to his 'sister'. "Mac?"

He saw her swallow. "Okay," she agreed quietly. "We can share."

It was decided to divide into teams according to rank, and when MacGregor broke the formation, he managed to sink the 11 ball, so Bugalu and Mac were left with the solid colors. Mac made a raspberry sound. "Sure, it's obvious how much you don't remember the game," she told her friend.

"Pure luck," he returned. "I never manage to sink a ball when I break." He studied the table to see what possibilities remained for him.

Mac walked to their table for a moment and returned with their drinks, put them down on a closer table. Smythe watched her closely as she finished half a glass of tea. "I thought–" he began, and stopped.

MacGregor took his second shot, but the 15 ball didn't go in. "You thought what?"

"Nothing." Smythe looked uncomfortable.

Mac went to a drink dispenser and came back with a fresh glass of brown liquid. Bugalu turned to the pool table and took his shot, but the 7 ball bounced against the back of the pocket and rolled into the middle of the table. Blast! I wish Mac had sent them away. I don't know what's going on between her and Smythe, and I find it hard to concentrate with my mind wrapped up in their problems.

Smythe took his turn, and got the 10 ball in, but didn't quite have his bank shot right for the 12. Mac had a simple shot to get the 3 ball in a side pocket, but somehow missed the 5 entirely on her next shot and nearly scratched the 8 ball.

While Bugs went to the table to get himself a drink, he noticed Smythe plant himself right next to Mac and whisper something only she would be able to hear. She gave him a startled glance and asked, "Who told you that?"

Smythe continued to whisper. Mac's mouth tightened, and she reached over to the table to get her glass. "Not that it's any of your business what I drink, but it's tea!" And she poured the rest of the glass all over her would-be suitor, then tossed her cue stick to the pool table and walked out of the rec room.

"What was that about?" Bugs wondered.

Smythe wiped his face with his sleeve. "Never mind. I was wrong."

"If you're going to argue with her, I wish you'd do it somewhere else," MacGregor told him, and returned to studying the table.

Smythe walked over to Bugalu and handed him his pool cue. "I too often say the wrong thing to her," he stated.

"Congratulations," Bugs told him softly, and Smythe gave him a confused look. "She cares what you think of her."

"Well, I think I'm done for the night." He turned and left the rec room.

MacGregor took his shot but didn't drop a ball in a pocket. "What was that about?" he asked Bugalu.

The helmsman shrugged. "Not a clue." They continued their game.

  

Another Chance Encounter

Month 15 Day 25

20:33 Hours

Smythe

It was already dark when Smitty entered the arboretum. He turned on his flashlight to its lowest setting and directed it to the path about a foot ahead of him. He knew where he was headed, and didn't want to disturb any indiscrete lovers he might pass on his way.

Two minutes later, he stopped, listened for sounds of anybody coming along the path, then doused his light and ducked under the drooping branches to approach the trunk of the weeping willow. He sat down with his back against the trunk and sighed.

"You aren't alone here," someone whispered.

"What? Who's there?" It wasn't quite a whisper when it came out, and someone shushed him. Whether they were under his tree or further afield, he couldn't tell.

"Smit?"

His breath caught in his throat. "Colleen?" He flipped his flashlight on and shone it on her face, to be sure.

"Ouch! Turn that off!" she hissed, and then, "Did you come here alone?"

"Yes," he muttered, the light held tight against his chest until he got it turned off. He vividly remembered her face as shown by that light, and there had been tracks down her cheeks. "What's wrong?"

"Are you expecting someone to join you?"

"No. I come here from time to time to think."

"In the dark?"

"It reminds me of a weeping willow I knew, when I was a child."

"Same here," she answered. "Not a weeping willow, but a Gaelund tree with many of the same characteristics."

Oh, she's been thinking of home. I've probably interrupted a bout of homesickness. "My tree died while I was at the Academy."

"That's sad."

"What about your tree? Is it still alive?"

"It was when I went home for my brother's funeral." He heard murmurings and cloth against the tree bark as she adjusted her seat.

"You must miss your home."

"Not really. The gravity is about all I miss anymore."

Then why is she crying? "But your family. Surely you'd like to see them again."

"I have no desire to ever go back." It was a cold pronouncement, despite being whispered.

"But you came here, to a place that reminds you of home."

"I came here to think, not reminisce. I know what waits for me if I go back, and it's not happy."

"You can't be sure of that. If you went home to make amends–"

"I have nothing to make amends for!" she declared.

"Quiet," someone requested from the darkness from beyond the tree, reminding Smitty to keep his voice low.

"Then don't you think you should give your family the chance to apologize for... whatever they've done?"

"You don't understand."

"Possibly not. But your parents won't live forever. It's always best to forgive and forget. Not let bad feelings fester between you."

"Please, I didn't ask for advice! But if you must know, if I were to return home, I'd be disowned! What I've been through is nothing compared to that!"

Now she's being melodramatic. Things can't be as bad as that. She hasn't been home to do anything to make them mad. "I'm just saying–"

"You're talking nonsense!" she shot back. "They'd never forgive me!"

"It can't be that bad."

"It's the worst thing—" She stopped abruptly, and he felt movement in the air around him. He reached out for her shoulder, found a standing leg instead. "Let go of me!" She moved away from his hand. "I'm sorry to have intruded on your solitude," she bit out, and shadows bounced among other shadows as she made her way through the tree's branches.

Smitty assumed she found her way to the path and thus to a door out of the arboretum. She was obviously too angry to want him to follow her, so he didn't. He spent the next hour or so wondering what he'd said that set her off.

A Change of Habit

 Month 15 Day 8

19:31 Hours

Jane Burke

 The book was a period mystery, but it involved time travel, so the period kept changing. It was definitely set on Earth, and it involved some humor, as well. Jane would have to look up other books by this author.

The doorbell startled her, and she glared across the room, but of course she couldn't see through the door to see who had disturbed her. She sighed and bookmarked her place, then rolled off her couch and stood up. She dropped her book on her desk as she walked to the door.

A quartet of joyous faces greeted her, and Smythe held up a nearly full bottle of whiskey.

"What's going on?" she asked, although now that she recognized Abdulla, MacDowell, and Wilson, she could think of 2 possible reasons for such joy. She wasn't sure which one she hoped it was.

"It worked!" Smitty declared, surging into her quarters. He headed for her liquor cabinet, probably for glasses.

No, that doesn't explain things for me. "What worked?" Did he convince MacDowell to get engaged again?

"The Yukoskian transportation machine we've been working on!" Abdulla explained. "We finally got it to transport items and not have those items be deformed!"

"Well, at least they don't look deformed," Wilson added. "We'll have to wait for the labs to run tests to make sure they remain identical to what we sent through the machines."

"Well, congratulations," Jane told them. "I see Mr Smythe intends to celebrate in his usual way." Not exactly. His usual method is with gin, but I've heard MacDowell won't drink anything but whiskey.

"I didn't have champagne," Smitty stated as he poured 2 fingers of brown liquid into 5 different glasses. "But this will do." He picked up one of the glasses and handed it to MacDowell, who hesitantly took it. As the other women each took a glass, Smitty took the last one and held it up for a toast. "To what looks like success."

"Absolutely," Jane agreed, and took a sip. As she lowered hers, she realized MacDowell hadn't even sipped. What's up with her? I've seen her drunk. I've heard how much she can handle. I've even heard rumors she has a secret cache of whiskey somewhere on the ship. This is a perfect excuse for her to drink. But instead, she's wrapped her hand around the glass to hide that she isn't drinking.

After the others drank, Smitty closed the bottle and sighed. "I wish we could continue, but it's a bit premature, since the labs haven't finished their tests. Besides, most of us have work in the morning, and Wilson in just a few hours. So I'll call an end to our evening, and I'll let you know what the labs say. Shouldn't take more than a day or two. In the meantime, I want each of you to think of something to run through the machines next week. But no live creatures yet; we aren't ready for that. Whatever you decide on, bring 2 of them to the session next week, so the labs can see what we start with, and what we wind up with."

"So you're moving along with more experiments," Jane stated.

"I don't see any reason to stop," he returned. "Just imagine what this could mean, just in moving cargo from space station to ship! Or vice versa."

"I have thought of it," she answered. "It could revolutionize shipping. I'd like to be kept in the loop, as you continue with your experiments. Don't save it all up for a grand finale. If I had more training in engineering, I'd consider joining you for at least some of these experiments."

"You'd be welcome to join us, captain," Smitty stated.

Jane dismissed the idea. "I'd get in the way and ask too many questions. Just let me know if the experiments are going well, or if you've hit a stumbling block."

"Of course, captain. Be happy to."

And since I'd be asking questions about something engineering, he won't mind if I ask them. But I won't be impeding the process of the experiments, and can cut him off if he gets too deep for me. Yes, that will work.

"Well, I do have to work in a few hours, so I'll say good night," Wilson stated. "Thank you for the celebratory drink, Mr Smythe."

"You're welcome, Wilson. I'll see you in the morning."

"I should be going, too," Abdulla decided. "I want to write a letter home about this, and I won't have time tomorrow."

"Lieutenant, tomorrow starts your weekend," Jane reminded her.

"Yes, and I've got 3 dates lined up over the course of the day," she admitted, and put down her glass to head for the door.

After those two left, Jane regarded the two who remained. By now, MacDowell had both hands wrapped around her glass, which she was staring at. Smitty was staring at the redhead warmly, his half bottle of whiskey held negligently in the crook of his elbow.

Taking another sip, Jane put the rest on the coffee table and led MacDowell by the arm toward the door, then leaned forward confidentially as she took her glass from her. "Did you think it was too soon to celebrate?"

"What? Well, no. Not really. I guess." She could hardly be heard.

Jane placed the drink on her desk and stopped near the doorway, turned to face the younger woman. "But you didn't drink."

For a moment, it seemed the face would become as red as her hair. "I... I..." She looked up. "I think I might be alcoholic. So I'm trying not to."

Do I believe that? What else would make sense? "Good for you. If you need help, Dr Fong provides counseling." A shadow appeared in the green eyes that Jane wondered about. "Or Dr MacGregor, if you prefer. Now, I'm going to keep Smythe here for a few minutes to give you a chance to get down the hall and out of sight, okay?"

MacDowell glanced back at the engineer. "I don't think he's stalking me."

"Let's not give him a chance to start tonight." She steered the girl out the door. Jane turned back to her chief engineer, picking up the untouched glass of whiskey as she passed the desk. "Here." She handed the glass to him.

He looked at it in confusion as he automatically took it. "Captain?"

"That's MacDowell's glass. Since she didn't want it, I thought you might drink it."

"Not want it?" he repeated.

"Next time you want to celebrate, maybe you should suggest cake, or ice cream," she proposed.

"We aren't children!"

"Smitty!" She put a touch of iron in her voice to get his attention, then softened it again. "If she doesn't want to drink, it isn't your place to try to force her."

His eyes widened at the idea. "No. Of course not." He tossed the whiskey down his throat, lowered the empty glass to the coffee table. "I wasn't trying to get her drunk, if that's what you were thinking, captain." He tightened his grip on his bottle. "Now, if you'll excuse me..."

She let him get 3 steps away before she stopped him. "Smitty." He turned to face her. "She's wondering if she's alcoholic. That's why I thought another method of celebrating might be in order."

"Alco-!" He stopped his exclamation and pondered the possibility for a short moment. "Yes, captain. I understand." He seemed uncertain what else to say. "Thank you for telling me." He turned and left.

That redhead keeps surprising me. And Smitty, too, from what I can gather.

Unplanned Meeting

Month 15 Day 7

20:30 Hours

Smitty

Smitty's stomach growled as he entered the mess hall. Lunch had had no taste, so he hadn't eaten much. Later, he begged off dinner with the captain, 'to do research'. What he had actually done was sit in his office and write a letter to Stinky, trying to assure his friend that although these periodic changes to their ships were designed by 'desk engineers', they generally wouldn't make the ships less safe for those assigned to them. Stinky had no confidence in desk engineers, and was seriously obsessed with the integrity of the crystals used in the warp engines.

As soon as he sent the letter for transmission, he'd become aware of his empty stomach, and had come here for supper.

He looked around, saw a woman with vivid red hair. Coincidence. I had no reason to think she would be eating this late.

The place was nearly empty, he could have sat anywhere. Instead, he approached Colleen's table. "Would you mind if I join you?"

She didn't look up far enough to see his face, seemed intent on staring at her food, rather than eat it. But she did glance around at all the empty tables. She's going to tell me to go away.

She surprised him by kicking the chair opposite her so that it slid a foot away from her table. "Sit down."

He sat, saw her take a spoonful of soup and make a face. Soup and iced tea was all that was on her tray. Plus a packet of crackers. And a fluffy pile of empty packets that had formerly contained crackers. "You're eating late tonight," he observed.

"Yes," she returned and opened her last packet of crackers. " She glanced up briefly. "So are you."

He nodded. "I've been too upset most of the day to think about food."

She looked up again, a look of interest in her eyes. "You seemed preoccupied this afternoon. Problems with the port warp engine?"

He shook his head and sipped his coffee. "No, that was relatively simple. Should have taken you with me; it would have been good experience for you." And then he heard himself say, "Captain accused me of stalking you."

Her face showed surprise, then guarded wariness as she leaned back in her chair, the cracker resting loosely in her hand. "Have you been?"

Not what I wanted to talk about! Blast me for saying anything about it. Now we have to discuss it. He lifted some cole slaw to his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Finally, "I've thought about the accusation, and I can understand why someone might think it, as often as we've run into each other off shift. But there's only been 2 times I've deliberately looked for you after shift, and that was the 2 times I went to sick bay to make sure you got home okay."

She frowned and took a nip of her cracker. "2 times?"

"You wouldn't remember the 2nd time; you were falling asleep before Dr Davis sent Tall Bear in to collect you."

"You're right. I don't remember you being there."

"Well, I was. But Tall Bear seemed capable of getting you home."

She gave a slow nod. "That's why I asked him to do it." She took another nibble on her cracker while he buttered his roll. "So all the other times... Like the movie..."

"Pure accident. There are only so many types of entertainment on this ship."

"That's true," she agreed, and sighed, took another nibble from her cracker, stared at her bowl of soup.

"Is something wrong with your soup?" he asked.

Her face scrunched in distaste. "It's gone cold."

"You could ask them to reheat it," he suggested. "Or get something else."

She gave a shake of her head. "I don't have any appetite. I should stop wasting time and go re-read Kolla's letters. Again."

His chicken and rice was a little dry, no doubt because he was late having his supper. It still tasted good. "What are you looking for this time? In her letters?"

"Anything that might give me a clue as to how they measure things. Time, distance, anything."

"Oh." He ate one of his brussel sprouts, which had become a little soft. "How much do you know about their measurements?"

"Nothing. While we were there, we each had some memory of the other's terms for time and distance, but we just translated them into our own terms, without knowing if they were anywhere close to the same. I know their term for 'day', but not how long one of their days is."

"25 hours and 16 minutes," Smitty stated. "The astronomy guys always figure that stuff out when we approach a planet. Their year is about 384.27 days. Is that the kind of stuff you're looking for?"

Well, what I really want to know is how broad is a back hair of a wild tzuksha?"

He looked up from his food. "A wild what?"

She grimaced. "I think it's something like a wild boar. Or a predatory turkey? I'm not sure what it is, so when Kolla mentioned a measurement of 'half the breadth of a wild tzuksha's back hair', I took it to mean something really small. Like a human hair. But after reading the results of your last experiments, I'm wondering if I was wrong. Unfortunately, I won't get an answer from Kolla by tomorrow."

He looked at her in confusion. "What does a wild animal have to do with a transportation device?"

"Only that they use the breath of the back hairs as a form of measurement."

"Are you saying we may have built the machine with the wrong measurements?"

"Not really. The manual specified what each piece had to do, and that's what we built each piece to do. Our machines don't look much like theirs, but they should work."

"Now I'm completely flummoxed. Where does the wild animal come in at?"

"When Kolla heard we were about to start experiments, she said something about leaving some distance between the item being sent and the place it was to land. Otherwise, the 2 substances would merge where they touched, and their structural integrity could be compromised."

He stared at her in sudden comprehension. "I thought the contact had merely stained the Petri dishes."

"From the sounds of it, it's more than that."

"Then what we need to do is program the machines to re-materialize the test subject at a point above the Petri dish."

"Yes. How far above is what I'm trying to figure out." She ate the last of her cracker.

"Who cares?" he asked. "I mean, yes, we need to find the optimum distance, but we start with an inch and adjust from there." He beamed at her. "You've done it, Colleen. Now we've got something to try when we meet for more experiments tomorrow."

"Good. But it was Kolla who told me the answer. I got stuck with the details."

"Details are important," he told her. "But at the same time, you have to keep your eyes on the broader picture."

"I'll have to practice that," she stated, and looked around the table, made sure all her empty cracker packets were on her tray. "I'm going to go. Plenty of stuff for me to do."

"I wish you'd stay," he said as she rose to her feet.

She gave him a guarded look. "Mr Smythe, the gossips already have enough lies to say about me, without my giving them anything else to speculate about."

"But we were actually talking."

"Yes. About work," she pointed out. "Excuse me." She picked up her tray and left.

Smitty forced himself not to watch her leave. He could still smell her lavender perfume. A sad loneliness fell over the table. His food wasn't as tasty as before; it seemed slightly overcooked from being on the buffet line for so long.

With this revelation about the transportation machines, our experiments might go better tomorrow night. Possibly so well, we might decide to celebrate. Surely she won't begrudge me that, when we've all worked so hard on this project!

A Stalker?

Month 15 Day 7

08:19 Hours

Captain Burke

Jane stopped just inside Smitty's office and looked. Except for the redhead sitting behind the desk, the room was empty. "You're here alone?" she asked, when the answer was obvious. At least I didn't catch them together, behaving inappropriately.

"Yes, sir," MacDowell answered. "Mr Smythe has me use his computer to do the paperwork while I'm on light duty."

That must be why his paperwork has been showing up much earlier than when he does it himself. "Well, I came to speak with Mr Smythe. Where can I find him?"

MacDowell stopped typing to consult the screens on the walls. "I believe he mentioned double-checking the work he did yesterday on the port warp engine, but I don't see him there. I would guess he's either inside the machine, or perhaps he's on his way back."

"He worked on it yesterday?"

"Yes, sir."

Then double-checking it today is probably a formality, and he's on his way back. "I'll wait for him," she announced and sat down in the chair facing the desk. MacDowell continued her work. Jane observed the occasional wince when she moved her right arm. "How is your shoulder doing, lieutenant?"

"It's still stiff, but it's getting better."

"And how do you like light duty?"

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Go ahead." She doesn't like it.

"It's unimaginative and repetitious."

"The higher in rank you go, the more paperwork there is to do."

"So I've noticed, sir."

Of course she has. "I've noticed Smitty has you designated as a trainee for half days."

MacDowell glanced at her fleetingly. "That's so that somebody can take over if the task requires I do something my shoulder isn't able to do."

"That must rankle, having somebody constantly looking over your shoulder."

"I'm hoping it won't be necessary too long."

Meaning, she's resigned to putting up with it. "I understand you went to see the movie last night."

A startled glance. "Yes, sir."

"Mr Bugalu said Mr Smythe sat directly behind you."

"He started out directly behind me, but moved over a seat so that a couple could sit together."

"Did that make you uncomfortable, to have him there?"

MacDowell hesitated in her typing. "He behaved like a gentleman."

Jane could almost hear 'this time' on the end of that sentence. But she didn't ask for details.

The redhead glanced up at the screens again. "Mr Smythe has just entered engineering, captain."

"Good." She stood up and turned for the doorway. "If he does anything to bother you, let me know, and I'll talk with him."

MacDowell looked up suddenly, pain in her eyes. "You don't believe we'll get back together?"

"Only you two know that," Jane answered, and moved out to the engineering lobby, where she caught Smitty putting his tool belt away. "Just the person I've been waiting for. Let's go get a cup of coffee."

Startled, he glanced at the clock. Their shift wasn't even an hour old. "Now? I mean, of course. I could use one."

They went to the lift, but Jane sent it to the nearest privacy room. "I need to talk to you," she told him as she shut the door and locked it behind them.

He seemed surprised by her choice of location. "Surely there's a better place to talk than here."

"Not necessarily," Jane answered, and sat down at the small table. "Take a seat," she suggested, gesturing to the other chair.

He did as he was told, his brow furrowed. "What's this about, captain?"

"Are you stalking Lt MacDowell?"

"Colleen?" he whispered, and then shock spread through him. "What? No! Did she say I have been?"

"She said you behaved like a gentleman last night at the movie," Jane admitted. "I didn't have time to ask about the times you met her as she left sick bay, or in the rec room."

Smitty's face reddened. "It's not a large ship, Captain, we're bound to run across each other from time to time. I didn't know she'd be at the movie last night, and I went to the rec room to play some pool."

"And waiting for her outside sick bay?"

He hesitated, and then confessed. "Yes, I did that. She is my subordinate, and after the total screw up that happened her first time with the healing ray, I wanted to make sure she could get home okay."

"She's only had the healing ray twice."

"Yes," he agreed. "The other time I met her there, I managed to get her to talk to me, a bit, as I walked her home. I'm trying to keep communication open between us, captain. Without that, I haven't got a chance."

"How many other times have you 'accidentally' run across her in the past week?"

"None," he asserted, then added, "Oh, I've seen her at a distance, various places, such as the mess hall or walking down a corridor. But those were all purely by chance, and I did nothing to get her attention!"

They were both silent for a long moment. "I had a feeling you weren't ready to give up on her," Jane told him. "And you're probably on the right track, trying to keep communications open. As long as you keep your jealousy under control. Which, as bad as I've seen you display it, I'm surprised she could say you behaved like a gentleman last night."

He blushed, and for a moment, he seemed at a loss for words. "Well..." He spread his hands over the tabletop. "I overheard their conversation. As they settled in their seats."

It seemed to be all he was going to say on the matter. It wasn't enough for Jane. "And?"

"It... wasn't very lover-like."

Jane gave him a slow smile. "Perhaps because they aren't lovers. But I don't suppose one overheard conversation is enough to convince you of that. At least it seems to have made you think about other possibilities. I hope." She gave a deep sigh. Personal matters are always so complicated. "Just be careful, Smitty. It can be a mighty thin line between pursuing someone and stalking them."

"Yes, captain," he returned. "We got carried away, in a hurry, the first time. I'm trying to take it slower this time."

The most sane thing he's said so far. "Good. Now, I understand you did some work on the port warp engine yesterday. I didn't see it mentioned in your daily report."

"Captain, if I reported everything we do, I'd never get a daily report done. It was nothing."

"The warp engines don't sound like 'nothing' to me," she told him. "It sounds serious."

"It was a tiny blip," he returned. "It was a slight imperfection in the alignment of the power stream through one of the crystals. We just had to figure out which one and get it re-aligned, is all."

It still sounds blasted serious. Or that it could have become serious. But Smitty seems to find potential problems before they become much of anything. "Good. Always on top of things, aren't you? I suppose if you did report every little 'blip', as you put it, I would be a nervous wreck."

"And there's no reason to notify you of every blip. I save notifying you for the more serious stuff."

"Good to know." She stood up and unlocked the door. "So, be careful with MacDowell. And keep up the good work." She opened the door and headed back to the bridge.