One More Ask & Two Minute Talk

 One More Ask

Month 16 Day 8

13:44 Hours

Bugalu

Beth looked around as Bugalu approached. "You might as well go in. She's not having any luck falling asleep. Maybe you can help her calm down."

"What's her problem?"

"I don't know. It took her a full hour to get here after her shift was over, so she must have eaten, but she's been fretting since she got here. I think she'd be tossing and turning, if she could."

"Okay, I'll talk to her." He took the fresh uniform in with him. "Am I waking you, Mac?" he asked softly.

She sighed. "I can't sleep."

"What's the problem?"

"I need access to a computer, and some time on it. And I can't figure out how to get either one."

"Worried about your projects?" he asked. "The ones you left running on your personal computer?"

"No. At least, I wasn't, until you brought them up. No, I've got a new project that I have to do, it's got a firm deadline, and I can't do anything to get started on it."

"Another project? What's this one?"

"Finding myself a job, for when I leave the Fireball in a few weeks."

Wondered when she would start worrying about that. "Yeah, that's not something you want to leave until the last minute."

"I should be looking now, but I can't figure out how!"

Yeah, now that she's realized that, she's definitely in a tizzy. Time to do the brotherly thing, I guess. "How about I look for you?"

"You?" She paused to think about it. "Well, that's nice of you to offer, but what good does that do? We only get a few minutes to talk a day, if we're lucky."

"Beth said you took a full hour to eat a meal before you came back to med bay today."

"Yeah, I was talking to MacG. I don't usually take that long. More like half an hour. Or 3 quarters of an hour for lunch."

Well, the library is across the hall from the mess hall. Why not get your food, go to the library and use one of the computers to check your email? Meanwhile, I'll comb through the openings and send any that look interesting to your inbox. Engineering or communications?"

"Either. I can't be picky."

Don't like the sounds of that. Maybe once she starts seeing what's out there, she'll stop feeling quite so desperate. "You can look them over and give each one a number. One for it looks interesting, 2 for maybe, and—"

"And 5 for 'over my dead body'." She gave a huge sigh of relief, and he could see her relax under the blanket. "Thank you, Bugs. I could not figure out how I was supposed to exercise my options during the current circumstances. I was sure I'd be sent to a tug station or something, and I want nothing to do with any of those captains!"

"So, am I looking for a position for you as an individual, or part of a married team?"

"Oh, I haven't ruled out anything yet. Although there's a couple options I'm pretty desperate to avoid, if I can."

"Okay. I'll start looking as soon as I get off, and you should have emails to look through by the time you head for breakfast."

"That soon?"

"The Fleet is a big organization, Mac."

"Oh, yeah, don't forget to look in the private sector, too. I might not stay in the Fleet. Need to look at all my options."

"Okay," he agreed. "Private sector, too. Now, you settled down? Think maybe you can sleep?"

"I hope so. My nerves are settling, my stomach isn't churning." She yawned and settled into the bed. "Good night, Bugs. I owe you big time."

"Good night, Mac." He turned and headed for the doorway. All her options include being part of a married team with a helmsman/pilot. We can argue about it later, if we have to.

"Thank you, Bugs," Beth told him as he emerged from the ICU. "She's already drifting off."

 

 

Two Minute Talk

Month 16 Day 8

23:58 Hours

Smitty

Smitty called the briefing to a close. "Please relieve me, Lt Wilson, so I can talk to Colleen for a moment." After the others left the office, he turned and closed the door so they could speak privately. "You look... better rested."

"I think my back is improving," Colleen told him. "Plus, I'm not feeling quite so frantic."

"Frantic? About what?"

"What options I have as a pregnant member of the Fleet. Somebody sat me down and spelled them out for me."

"I could have done that."

She shook her head. "It took him nearly an hour. I don't know how you could condense it down to 2 minutes."

"Who did you talk to? Dr Fong?"

"No, MacGregor. Plus, I saw some of the openings within the Fleet while I had breakfast."

"In the mess hall?"

"I took my food to the library to check my email. I only had a half hour, so I didn't get through the 2 dozen openings Bugs sent me. Hopefully, I'll be able to finish up on my lunch break."

She goes to Drake and then enlists Bugalu's help? "I thought I was looking for openings to be considered."

"I imagine you are looking for openings for the 2 of us as a married team. And I'm very willing to listen to those, to discuss them at length. But—" She swallowed. "I don't think I should limit my choices without seeing everything that's available."

"I hope to convince you to marry me." He took hold of her hands and moved forward to kiss her. She reciprocated, and it lasted longer than he had intended. "I really want to marry you."

"It's a definite possibility," she answered, her breath a little ragged. "Especially when you kiss me like that."

"Then I wish we had time for more kisses," he returned with a smile. He lowered his voice. "When we return to the Fireball, I know some positions that won't put any pressure on your back."

Her face turned red. "That sounds... interesting."

He glanced at the clock and sighed. "And now we've used up our 2 minutes, and didn't even get one job opportunity discussed."

The office doorbell rang. Smitty consulted the wall screens to see who was outside. "It's Adams. Well, you go ahead and finish up the warp alcove while I inform Mr Adams that he's assigned to check the ship's core. That should keep him busy for most of your shift. After that, send him to work on a nacelle. Under Abdulla would be a good touch." He reluctantly let go of her to open the door, and the two of them went their separate ways.

Asking for Help

Month 16 Day 8

12:12 Hours

Drake MacGregor

Drake took his cup of coffee off the dumbwaiter in the middle of the table and then sat back, waiting for Mac to show up. He had just stuck his spoon into his drink when she entered the privacy dining room and looked around for him. He raised a hand over the booth top, and she moved forward, soon scooted into the booth opposite him. Drake turned on the privacy shield. "I assume you wanted to meet here so we won't be seen together."

She looked up in surprise, her eyes rather bloodshot above dark smudges. Her cheeks turned pink. "Actually, I was afraid I'd start crying." Moisture was gathering in those eyes, and she wiped at them with her uniform sleeves.

"What's got you so upset?" If Smitty's said something nasty to her, so help me—

"Everything," she answered, punching her choices into the menu console. "I can't get enough sleep, no matter what I do. I'm scared witless about this impending doom of being shipped planetside. Everybody says I have options, but I don't know what they are or how to find out about them. Even if I had the time to research them, which I don't. Because I'm sleeping so much."

"The sleeping is to be expected," he told her, and started counting things off on his fingers. "One, you're working 12 hours a day. That's hard on anybody's system, and your body wants more sleep to make up for it. Plus, you've had the shock of diflaxibrophine poisoning, and your body is trying to repair the damage done. So you need more sleep for that. And finally, your body is going through a lot of changes, getting ready to have this baby. A lot of women need extra sleep during the first trimester."

She grimaced. "Well, that explains it, but it doesn't help me deal with it. I can't get anything done except work and sleep!" Her oatmeal, toast and tea arrived on the dumbwaiter, and she pulled it toward her. "And maybe grab a bite to eat now and again, if the morning sickness will let me."

"The ginger tea isn't helping with that?"

"It helps, when I've got some. But I was too busy crying in a privacy room to stop by the mess hall and get any on my way here."

"Crying can be part of the hormones of the first trimester, too." He punched a tiny button on the menu console.

A tinny voice said, "Mess Hall. What can I do for you?"

"Put a teaspoon of ground ginger in a mug, pour hot water over it, and send it up," he instructed.

"I will do that," the voice promised.

Mac stared at the console. "I didn't know you could do that."

"Only higher officers get to do it, and the captain can revoke the privilege if she feels it's being abused. Personally, there's seldom a time I want to use it. Anna puts out a good menu."

"But you aren't eating anything now," Mac observed.

"This is my evening," Drake told her. "I had my supper at 8 this morning, and I'm about to go to the barracks and turn in."

Mac shook her head. "I thought keeping people's shifts straight was hard enough when I only worked 8 hrs, but working 12 makes it even worse."

"Okay, options," he went on. "You can get rid of the baby, and continue on the Fireball."

"I like the latter half, but not the first half."

"Kind of thought so. You don't have to stay in the Fleet. You can resign, and get a small pension, based on the number of years you've been in the Fleet. Being at the Academy doesn't count towards it. In that case, I would suggest that the Yukosk dictionary you've been working on, get it sent in for publication. Even if you don't think it's ready, send it in, and then send in updates. The royalties will give you a little more to live on. Same with any other papers or books you can pull together and send for publication."

"I haven't figured out how to get her share of the royalties to Kolla."

"Smitty can help you get that sort of stuff figured out." He paused and added. "Or, if he's not willing, the captain will."

"He and I are... talking," she stated. "I haven't said I'd marry him, but we're talking about options if I do. He's saying all the right things, but I've seen abrupt turn-arounds before, and I'm not sure I can trust what he says. And it doesn't help that we can only squeeze 2 or 3 minutes out of each shift change."

"You have to do what's best for you," he told her. "Now, having said that, you don't have to get married, but in that case, you will be transferred planet-side, probably to a desk job, to start. With your credentials, you could request a transfer to a particular place, but it's going to start as a desk job."

"So, a lieutenant's pay, plus whatever royalties I get. To house, clothe and feed myself and my child."

"In the Fleet, wherever you're stationed, they'd provide a small apartment for you and the child. Which is no small deal, considering how expensive housing can be."

"How do I find out about transfer possibilities?"

"Let's get through the various options first. Finding out about transfer possibilities is the same for all of them. Well, all of them where you stay inside the Fleet."

"You covered me not getting married. What else is there to consider?"

"You can get married and leave the Fleet. Small pension, royalties, whatever you make from whatever job you find. If your husband stays in the Fleet, you'll share his paycheck."

"Wouldn't the Fleet separate us if only one of us is still in it? So what's the use of getting married?"

"I never said it was ideal. We're looking at all the possibilities here."

"Oh. I see. Okay, go on." A mug of hot ginger tea arrived on the dumbwaiter, and she sipped at it before she started her supper. Drake had a lot of things to explain to her. 

Bump in the Road & More Hands to Help

 Bump in the Road

Month 16 Day 7

2358 Hours

Smitty

After the others stepped out of the office, Colleen gave a soft sigh and told him, "I never actually told you I'd marry you."

Shocked, Smitty exclaimed, "But you have to!" At once, he realized what that sounded like, especially to outsiders, and turned to shut the office door. "No, I don't mean that the way it sounded. You must do what's best for you and the child, of course, but I hope that includes me. I need and want you in my life in a big way. You and that little bundle you carry. I can't imagine my life without you and the child in it, intimately part of it." He paused as a vague idea of what life would be like hit him. He cleared his throat and admitted, "Well, I can, but it's pretty bleak."

There was silence for a second before she spoke. "That's a huge turn-around, practically overnight. From not wanting anything to do with... us, to what you've just said. How am I supposed to... believe it?"

He considered the question for a long moment. "It's from the heart. I meant every word of it. What do you want me to do? How can I prove myself?"

"I don't know," she answered simply. "You... described an option for going forward, once. It involved a ship-building station."

"I thought it the best option for us," he answered. "But if you don't like the idea..."

"It didn't sound... horrible," she stated. "Frankly, I don't know what options I might have. I know the Fleet doesn't allow children living on their ships, so I will have to find a job either planet-side or on a station somewhere, and I don't know how to find one of those, or how to tell if it's a good fit for me. Or how to land such a job. My whole future is completely unknown. I haven't got a clue how to proceed, in any direction." A tear slid down her cheek.

Smitty swallowed. "I could hunt up other options for you. Us. We could discuss the possibilities."

She considered that and then nodded slowly. "That would help."

He wanted to step closer and hug her, but her back didn't need that kind of pressure, and he wasn't sure how she was feeling towards him right now. "If we're discussing options, I suppose I should point out that you could go to MacGregor and... have the fetus removed."

She shook her head. "I'm not inclined to consider that."

He sighed in relief. "Good. I'm relieved. Then I'll set to work on what other options you have."

"Thank you, Smit. That means a lot to me."

 

 More Hands to Help

Month 16 Day 8

0854 Hours

Abdulla

Abdulla caught sight of a certain redhead almost as soon as she entered the St Elmo's engineering department. She veered over to approach the warp alcove and hissed in sympathy when she saw the stripe of angry skin up the back of Mac's head.

"Hello, Abs," Mac greeted her. "Caught sight of my seared scalp, did you? Don't worry, it doesn't hurt much anymore. I'm hoping the hair might start growing back before I return to the Fireball."

"We heard you'd been hit with some diflaxibrophine, but that you were back to light duty already. Nobody mentioned you'd lost some hair. Are you doing this alcove on your own?"

"No, Ivy's helping," Mac answered as she tightened the restraints to hold the 3rd crystal in position. "She did all the upper access panels I couldn't easily reach, and now she's working on the bottom access panels."

"I'm almost done," Ivy's muffled voice came from inside the console. "So, you couldn't resist a total rebuild, eh, Abdulla?"

"Well, you know, it's something different from working communications. So, what do you need me to do?"

"Want to tackle a nacelle?" Mac asked. "It's airtight, but hasn't even had any diagnostics run yet."

"By myself?"

"I don't think so," Mac answered, and turned from the crystal mechanism. "Let's find Lt Zolka and see if he's got a team together yet. I'll be back shortly, Ivy."

"Take your time," Ivy answered.

The 2 women walked to the office, where Mac operated the intercom and requested, "Lt Zolka, please report in."

It only took a moment to get a response. "Lt Zolka. What do you need, Mac?"

"Have you put together a team to work on the starboard nacelle?"

"Ah, I've got an ensign, a technician, and me. I don't suppose anybody else has finished up whatever they were working on, have they?"

"Not that I know of, but I'm sending you help anyway. Lt Abdulla of the Fireball. Don't let her communications uniform fool you; if she would transfer to engineering, Mr Smythe would make her a shift supervisor."

Abdulla opened her mouth to protest that proclamation, but before she could, Zolka said, "Well, send her out. And ask her to bring a Hodges' spanner. I seem to have forgotten to bring one."

"You got it," Mac answered, and closed the channel.

"What in space does he need a Hodges' spanner for in one of the nacelles?"

"It's a test," Mac answered. "To see if you know what one is. After all, you're only a lieutenant of communications. That means something here." She took a deep breath that turned into a yawn, and then shook her head. "Well, it's the starboard nacelle, and you know where the spanners are, if you feel like carrying one there."

"You look tired, Mac," Abdulla observed. "I imagine it must be difficult, working 12 hour days when you're still trying to recover from your burns."

"It doesn't help that Smit treats me like I'm extremely delicate or something. Sometimes I just want to scream at him to stop treating me like an invalid."

"He doesn't want you to wind up back in med bay, unable to help him at all."

"Oh, it's more than that." She turned to face her friend squarely. "Because of my injury, they discovered I'm pregnant."

Abdulla blinked and stared at her friend for a moment. "I'd heard the rumors, but I didn't believe them."

"The rumors were wrong," Mac declared. "Back then, I wasn't. But now I am. About 6 Earth weeks, according to the diagnostic bed."

"That gives you about 7 weeks before they ship you planet-side," Abdulla observed. A heavy sadness fell over her. The Fireball won't be the same without Mac on it. How will Bugalu take her absence? "Does Bugalu know?"

"Oh, he's not the father," Mac stated hurriedly, and rolled her eyes. "But he proposed, anyway, the silly gerkat. Anyway, I need to explore my options. And that's hard to do right now, with 12 hours on shift and the rest of my day in med bay, trying to get better. Anyway, you'd better get moving, or Zolka will be positive you don't know your way around."

"Yes, I understand. We'll talk later," Abdulla stated, and turned away, pausing at a locker to pick up a Hodges' spanner, which was not used on any piece of equipment associated with the warp drive.

On Again

Month 16 Day 7

2326 Hours

Ivy Wilson

There was something about a woman who only ate oatmeal for breakfast, and not much of that. Half of Mac's bowl of porridge was going to be thrown out. "How are you feeling?" Ivy asked her friend as that woman sipped at her mug of ginger tea. "You've hardly eaten at all."

"Oh. Well, I had a milkshake a little while ago," Mac stated, but Ivy doubted it. As far as she could tell, the redhead was hardly eating anything, these days. But she could only judge from breakfast and dinner, because they didn't take lunch at the same time. Maybe that's when she has her big meal.

They disposed of their trays and headed for engineering. Jamison jumped onto their lift just as the doors were closing. "You guys eat fast," he commented. "Of course, at this time, I'm usually just getting to the mess hall. I'm not used to getting to engineering as early as I'm doing these days."

"Neither are we," Ivy told him. "Five or 10 minutes is all the time it usually takes to be briefed by the shift going off. But in this case, there's so much to do, and Mr Smythe has to see that nothing, not a single thing, gets forgotten."

"He doesn't seem the type to forget things," Jamison stated.

"No, he isn't," Ivy agreed.

"I don't know how he does it," Jamison commented.

"He has an internal checklist," Ivy stated.

"Does he?" Mac asked as the lift came to their deck. "Interesting. I thought I was the only one with something like that."

They got off to walk the few feet to engineering. "Does a person have to be born with one of those?" Jamison asked.

"I don't think so," Mac answered. "I've been developing mine since I was child. So many rules to follow. Or, at least, not get caught ignoring."

"It sounds like a handy thing to have."

"It is," Mac told him. "But it starts getting gnarly when you have several checklists to keep track of."

"I'm not sure I know that word. Gnarly."

"Oh, sorry," Mac answered. "I suppose it's slang, from my home planet. I meant it gets difficult to keep several checklists separate and yet still accessible."

"Well, you would know, Mac," Ivy said, and told Jamison, "She's had as many as 6 projects going at one time. And one of them was learning engineering, which is a very big checklist."

They heard cheers and clapping from deeper in engineering as they entered the lobby. Somebody must have finished repairing another system. They stood outside the office until they saw Mr Smythe and Lt Vojeck approaching. Vojeck held a diagnostic sheet in her hand ,which she gleefully placed on the 'done' stack on the office desk.

Smythe and Vojeck got them caught up on what had been accomplished, then Smythe went on to what he thought should be done next. "We've got a team putting the innards of the north nacelle back together," he reported. "The bulkheads on the starboard nacelle are airtight, but we haven't got a team we can put on those innards. I thought I might call the Fireball and ask that they send 3 or 4 of my people over for a day or 2. I'll check with Mr Facchini after I have supper and see what he thinks. I doubt if any of them would arrive before mid-morning. Lt Zolka's shift. But Mr Facchini appears to be making good progress in his recovery. I'd like to have this ship ready for him when he's released from med bay. So, Wilson, Co- MacDowell, keep that in mind when the newcomers arrive, and try to assign them according to their strengths."

"Yes, sir," they both said, then Mac went on. "I thought I would take the equipment and make sure all the various parts of the ship's core are in peak condition."

"The core?" Smythe repeated, and gave Ivy a questioning glance, which she answered with a tiny nod. Yes, I taught Mac how to do that, or at least, I showed it to her once. Which is usually enough, with her.

"Since we've decided I can't do any work that requires me to lay on my back on the floor, I thought it made sense for me to tackle the core, since there's no floor work to be done at all."

Smythe turned to the St Elmo A shift supervisor. "Jamison, do you have anybody who can assist her?"

"It's a one-person job!" Mac stated with a hint of anger in her voice.

There was a moment of silence in the office. When he spoke again, Smythe seemed to pick his words carefully. "I'd rather not have you too far from engineering proper while I'm off shift. We'll find someone to check the core, but today, perhaps you would remove the new-style power relays from the warp alcove and replace them with old-style relays. Thanks to fabrication, we now have plenty of those. And while you're there, perhaps you could go ahead and check that portion of the system."

"I could assist her, Mr Smythe," Ivy volunteered. "Do the floor work. And that way, people would know where to find us, if they had any questions."

"Good," Smythe declared. "Then it's settled."

"At least I'll be doing something useful," Mac muttered.

Smythe cleared his throat. "I remind you, lieutenant, that you are on light duty, and if you get tired, you're to turn the job over to Wilson and get yourself back to med bay."

"Fine," she agreed. "And if I'm strong enough to get through the entire thing, with Wilson's help, of course, then I'll spend the rest of my time working on paperwork."

"If you're up for it," Smythe restricted slowly, and cleared his throat again. "Now, it's practically midnight. Jamison, please relieve Vojeck, and Wilson, please relieve me. I'd like to have 2 minutes alone with my fiancée."

"You're engaged?" Wilson uttered, and bit it off before she added, "Again?"

"Yes, he answered. "Now, please, people..."

In another moment, the 3 lieutenants who were not engaged left the office and gave each other looks of surprise. As the St Elmo people moved off, Wilson paused to consider what tools she and Mac would need for the warp alcove, and she heard Mac softly say, "I never actually said I'd marry you."

"What? But you have to!" Then Smythe turned and shut the office door and locked it.