DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc. and Viacom. The story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and is copyright (c) 2000 by Djinn. This story is Rated PG-13.
This is the Ship
by Djinn
Damn it all! This was the third time she'd
been by storage area 4. I am not lost, she tried to convince herself. I am
*not* lost.
"Doctor, are you lost?"
She leaned casually against the corridor
bulkhead, looked Spock in the eye, and said, "No, Captain. I was just
checking this storage area. I think I want to put our most volatile or rare
medicines and vaccinations in here rather than on the outside ring. Less chance
of major damage."
"An excellent plan. But did you not come
down here over forty-five minutes ago."
"I did." She thought fast. Realized
she wasn't sure why he was down on deck 5. "Are *you* lost, Spock?"
His eyebrow rose as if in disdain. "A
Vulcan does not get lost."
"Especially on his own ship."
Precisely."
They stared at each other for several long
moments. Finally she cracked and started laughing. "Ok, we'll probably rot
down here if one of us doesn't confess to being completely turned around. So
I'll do it because I know you'd rather die than admit it."
His expression remained the same, but she
could have sworn she saw a glimmer of relief.
"Thank god for these new hallway
panels." She backed away from the wall and touched the dark screen. It
sprang to life with a schematic. She felt Spock come up behind her. She looked
back and confirmed that he was reading the map as avidly as she.
"Well?"
"I believe a right, right, left pattern
should get us to a turbolift.
"Let's ask the computer." Out of
habit she turned back to the panel, even though she knew the machine could
detect her voice from any direction. "Computer?"
A pleasant male voice answered. "Yes,
Doctor Chapel?"
"How do we get to the nearest
turbolift?"
"Please follow the lighted display
panels." As they watched a line of panels ahead of them lit up and then
disappeared around the corner.
"Thank you."
"My pleasure, Doctor."
"A useful improvement." She started
down the hallway, ignoring Spock's look of disapproval.
"Doctor, what have you done to the
computer?"
"Done?"
"The voice? The name recognition? The
courteous embellishments?"
"Oh that. The old computer was
determined to be too machine-like. So Starfleet decided to offer some options,
and I chose the one you heard. The voice recognition is a new feature that is
supposed to improve overall crew interactions with the computer, once I scan in
all the voices on this ship the computer will always recognize them. And then
each crewmember can also program in what he or she wishes to be called in
private. And the embellishments...well I just taught it a few key phrases. To
make interacting with it more pleasant."
"More pleasant for a human."
"For most cultures, Spock. We are a
diplomatic ship. I thought the computer should be a bit more that way
too."
He nodded in defeat. "Why did you choose
a male voice? It is customary for it to be female."
"The female voice wouldn't have worked
on this ship."
He looked at her askance. "Why
not?"
"Because it's my voice, Spock." At
his look of confusion she sighed. "Based on my audio profile, Starfleet
asked me, and a bunch of other women, to try out for the new computer voice. It
meant some extra credits and it was fun. I had no idea they'd ultimately go
with my voice. And I have no problem with other ship's using it. But it was
giving me the creeps hearing it."
"I see." They turned the last
corner and the turbolift appeared in front of them. They entered and Spock
asked for the bridge. When the lift doors opened, they walked out to their new
command center, where technicians were still working busily. Stepping over
several crewmen Spock went to his chair.
She took her place in the one next to him.
This was a new idea having the captain and first officer sit together. She
liked it--it gave her a place of her own to sit. She remembered all the times
McCoy had more or less loitered on the bridge and was grateful she would not
have to do the same.
Spock touched the pad on his chair.
"Computer?"
The male voice answered promptly. "Yes,
Captain Spock."
"I would like to hear the female version
of your voice."
Suddenly Christine's voice filled the room.
"Yes, Captain Spock."
Christine closed her eyes and shook her head.
"Computer, please calculate pi to 100
decimal places."
Christine's voice came back with an extremely
long answer that she cut off before it finished. "Stop calculations,
Computer."
"Yes, Doctor Chapel."
Spock looked at her, a devilish look on his
face. "So this bothers you?"
"You wouldn't dare."
"Perhaps it will be a useful tool for
keeping you in line?"
"What? If I don't behave you switch the
voices? Not even close to being an incentive."
He did not seem to believe her.
"Computer, switch to male voice."
"Yes, Captain." Christine felt her
hackles go down. She would really have to alter the programming so it could not
be changed so easily.
As if reading her mind, Spock commanded the
computer, "Computer, make voice change option available only to Captain of
this vessel."
"Yes, sir."
He looked over at her in triumph.
Damn telepathic green-blooded, pointy-eared
irritation of a captain. Christine looked over to see him studying her
intently. She rose and smiled innocently. "I'm going to check out how
sickbay is coming along."
"Don't get lost," his voice echoed
behind her.
**************************
Christine looked around sickbay, still amazed
that this was hers. But not just this. The Carter was designed to fulfill two
main missions: diplomatic and medical relief. So all of the medical operations
fell under her as CMO. Sickbay, which would service the crewmembers, was just
one small part of it. There was also an extensive laboratory and testing
facility sharing Deck 6 with the exam rooms and offices of main sickbay. One
floor below them was the relief hospital facility. It had an area specifically
set up to treat the myriad of infectious diseases they would run into, as well
as another space for trauma and other types of relief operations. Quarantine
could be settled over part or all of the hospital.
There were dedicated turbolifts running
between the two decks. And everything was conveniently located near the shuttle
bay and next to a special transporter room that had been built with a large
medical staging and triage area. The corridors were extra wide to allow
movement of multiple guerneys. The Starfleet designers working closely with
some of the Federations finest medical minds had covered everything.
Except for staffing, Christine thought
ruefully. Up in her office next to the bridge she had a pad full of personnel
files. Some were volunteers for this mission. Others were recommended by
Starfleet command. Still others were ones that she had requested personally.
She and Spock would be meeting tomorrow to go over staffing options. She had a
great deal of reading yet to do.
She stepped into the very large CMO's office
located between sickbay and the labs. Since she had the other office available
to her as first officer she had turned this into a training room. And party
room, she chuckled to herself, although she had left that off the requisition
justification when she had ordered the furniture. She knew from her time in
Emergency Ops that after a crisis the workers would need a place to blow off
steam and wind down from the round-the-clock shifts and stress. The celebration
would probably spill out into the corridors but at least this room would give
them a place to keep, or hide, the booze and food. It would also serve as an
excellent break room during whatever medical emergency they were facing,
offering harried doctors, nurses, and medical assistants a place to sit down
for a few minutes to grab a quick bite to eat or to simply catch their breath.
Satisfied that everything was ready she found
the regular lift and asked for the rear bridge. This afforded her a private
entrance to her office. The Captain could also access his ready room from here.
And they could go between the two offices without having to traipse through the
bridge each time. It was a nice design element. She hadn't expected her office
to be near the bridge. In her past experience the first officer's room had
always been on one of the functional decks. But Starfleet had determined from a
number of exit interviews that many of the crew members never saw the bridge of
the ship they served on for years. Having the first officer's quarters there
might allow them to get a taste of that world. And it was determined to be more
efficient for Captain-First Officer interactions.
I'm sure Spock is thrilled that I am so
close, she laughed to herself. Then thought of their discussion several weeks
ago at the little Irish pub and remembered his declarations to her. Rolling her
eyes she amended her previous statement. He might in fact be more thrilled than
she was.
Her office was fully decorated. Both she and
Spock had spent time--an illogical amount of time she concluded--making their
quarters and offices "homey." They were the same in that respect,
neither liking to work in sterile surroundings. His ready room was full of
Vulcan touches accented with artifacts and works of art he had collected or
been given during his many missions. Spock's rooms tended toward a red and
black theme, with his art being very colorful. Her spaces had more muted tones
in the furnishings, with the esoteric objet's d'art and mystical paintings
adding color. She collected goddess figures and artwork, and had a number of
them scattered throughout the rooms. She remembered Spock's raised eyebrow as
he had taken in the number of diverse deities she had managed to collect over
the years.
"Are you a pagan, Doctor? I was given to
understand you were raised Lutheran."
"I was. But I've fallen away from any
regular observance of religion. I'm a scientist first of all, Spock. But I
remember the day I first saw one of these figurines in a museum." She had
walked over to a small Asian sculpture carved out of some sort of creamy
material and delicately painted. "The original was much larger and carved
from ivory, the paint was faded after all those centuries. She was the most
beautiful thing I had ever seen. And she touched me in a way that I had never
felt before." She had handed the sculpture to Spock. "This is a
reproduction I found years later. Still cost me more credits than I had at the
time."
He had examined it then handed it back.
"It is truly exquisite. Who is she?"
"Kuan Yin. The Buddhist goddess of
compassion. According to legend she achieved perfection and was entitled to enter
Nirvana but did not want to leave her suffering children here on Earth without
her comfort. For centuries she has been worshipped all over
Spock had walked over to another figure.
"And this?"
Christine had looked at the goddess he had
selected, a fierce looking primitive mother goddess from
He had nodded pleasantly. "No reason to
apologize. If you were to ask me about my art I assure you that I would
probably rival you in enthusiasm for describing that which has captured my
interest."
She had laughed and they had returned to
work.
Now she looked at her statues. "I don't
suppose any of you would like to help me out with crew selections?" The
sculptures stared back at her. "Didn't think so."
***************************
Two hours later she was finally done with her
recommendations for the key medical posts and senior staff. She got up and
stretched, walking around her office to get rid of some of the kinks. I'm a
long way from done, she thought as she reached for another pad to bone up on
the rest of the assignments.
She had been reading for three hours when the
buzzing of her intercom startled her back to reality. "Chapel here."
"Christine. It is dinnertime. I was
wondering if you would like to eat in the lounge? Unless you've made other
plans, of course." The humor was rich in his voice.
"Funny, Spock. I'll meet you in a
minute?" She marked her place in the personnel info and joined him in the
shared hallway.
"I guess everyone's gone?" The
workers stayed at the shipyards not on the ship. Christine tried not to dwell
on how much she really didn't like an empty ship.
"It unnerves you, doesn't it?" He
looked at her pointedly as they entered the turbolift.
"I like having people around."
"If I remember our lesson on Extrovert
versus Introvert, you *need* to have people around."
She smiled. "Ok, I *need* to have them
around. But you'll do in a pinch."
He gave her a half-smile as they exited the
lift and walked to the lounge. Set at the very front of deck 3 it was an
extensive room, curving around the front of the ship with a bar and replicators
at the back. Viewports all around the rounded walls showed the shipyards and
beyond them black space littered with stars. Christine smiled as she realized
she had expected them to twinkle in the dust free vacuum. I always do, even
after all these years, she thought. She looked around the now finished lounge.
"Every time I come in here I marvel at what an amazing room this is,
Spock. What a great idea to put crew space at the very front of the ship."
He looked at her in surprise.
"Aesthetically pleasing but somewhat vulnerable during an attack."
"People aren't going to be here during
yellow or red alerts," she argued. "They'll go to the mess halls.
They're safer and more conveniently located. But during off hours, I think
you'll be surprised at how popular this place becomes. At some point in time
most of the species that will be stationed on this ship will want, no *need* to
see out, to see the stars." She grinned at him.
"You no doubt are correct," he
agreed blandly as he ordered his meal. Seconds later a typical Vulcan dinner
appeared. He moved aside to let her place her order.
She stood for a moment trying to decide what
she was hungry for. She saw him glance at her speculatively.
"Is there a problem?"
"No. I just don't happen to order the
same thing every single night."
His look was surprised. "I do not eat
the *same* thing every night."
"Damn close to it," she shot back
as she narrowed down her choices. Japanese that's what she wanted. "Yaki
soba, unagi maki, and some edamame. With plenty of soy sauce and wasabi. Oh and
green tea, hot." She took her food and followed Spock to a table far
enough back from the viewports that they could both see out. They ate in
silence for a while, often staring out into space.
"What are the green vegetables?"
Spock's voice was a surprise. He did not normally talk during a meal.
"Edamame. Soybeans. Try one."
He took the pod and followed her lead in
using his mouth to squeeze out the beans. "An unusual sensation. The
outside is covered with fuzz and has a salty flavor, the beans inside are quite
delicious."
She smiled. "And good for you. Lots of
protein. Important for vegetarians. Have some more."
He nodded as he dished a helping onto his
plate. "I shall add this to my replicator list." He pointed to the
rice roll. "And that, is that good for vegetarians?"
She shook her head as she bit into the sushi.
"Nope. This has eel in it. But there are vegetarian versions. Ask for
cucumber roll, which is quite good. I can't believe you went to school in
"I did not like the sound of it. Raw
fish." His look was grim. "Eel?"
She gave him an evil grin. "Smoked eel,
not raw. And don't look so horrified. I told you before I'm a carnivore. Get
over it."
He nodded in resignation and returned to his
meal. When they finished, Christine took her tray to the recycler and got some
coffee to supplement the tea. As she sat back down at their table she was
surprised to see a small package sitting at her place. She picked it up,
admiring the lovely paper wrapping that appeared to have no fasteners other
than intricate folds.
"It is from Vulcan."
"So I gathered." She looked at him
searchingly. "What's the occasion. It's not my birthday."
"Consider it a house-warming gift."
Spock looked amused. "Or quarters-warming anyway."
She carefully removed the wrapping and found
an even lovelier box. Opening it she saw a graceful figurine, carved in
sandy-colored stone. A goddess? "Spock?"
"She is T'Janra. In the ancient days of
Vulcan she was the primary female deity. Although she is no longer worshipped
it is considered *fortuitous* to have her in one's house. Especially for
women."
"Good luck, you mean," Christine
asked with amusement.
"If you insist." Spock looked at
her fondly. "It was my grandmother's, and her mother's before that. They have
passed on to the ancestors and my mother has a T'Janra of her own so when I
asked her to find me a statue of the goddess for you she sent this one. There
are no other females in the line that would want it so it is mine to do with as
I wish. And I wish for you to have her. I believe you will give her the
appreciation she deserves."
"I don't know what to say."
"Say *thank you* and find her a place
among her fellow deities, Christine." His gaze was warm.
"She's beautiful. I'm a bit
overwhelmed." She stroked the lovely statue. Then her eyes met his. She
gave him a happy smile. "Thank you, Spock."
"You are welcome. Now I believe we both
have personnel files to continue going through?"
They rose together and left the lounge.
Christine groaned. "I know I should be grateful that Starfleet is giving
us so much latitude in choosing our own senior staff but I'll be glad when
we're finally finished. The information is all starting to run together."
"But not for your medical contingent? I
imagine you took care of that first."
She laughed as they found the turbolift and
rode it back to their hallway. "You know me too well."
As he turned to enter his own office his
voice was serene. "I am beginning to, Christine."
**************************
Christine didn't finish reading the personnel
reports and making notes on her preferences for several hours. When she finally
rose from her chair her back protested the long hours of sitting. She debated
going down to the gym but decided to take a walk around the nearly completed diplomatic
areas instead. "Deck 3," she told the lift.
Nearest to the lift was the special
diplomatic transporter room. It was larger than the normal rooms, but smaller
than her medical one. There was an overflow area that would take arrivals away
from the pads to meet and greet the Federation representatives. The walls were
covered with expensive dark silk wallpaper, gold braid, Federation banners,
flags, and anything else the designers could think that would make this room
seem utterly impressive.
Christine climbed up on the transporter pad.
As she turned to face the room she closed her eyes then opened them slowly and
took it all in from the vantage point of a guest. Yes, this would make quite
the impression. Ignoring the stairs she hopped off the platform and hurried out
of the room, heading off down the hall. Even the hallways on this section of
the deck were fancy, covered with the same dark wallpaper and bearing the flags
or insignia of all the member planets of the Federation. The effect was both
beautiful and regal.
She passed the catering rooms and entered a
door several meters down from the transporter. It was a small reception room.
It could be fitted with a table for formal dinners or used as an open space for
small gatherings. The decorating theme from the hallway carried in here and was
even more beautiful for in place of the flags and banners hung works of art
from all corners of the Federation. Subtly lit, they looked rich against the
dark backdrop of the walls.
"Computer, open partition one."
"Yes, Christine."
She started at hearing her first name.
"Computer, state parameters for informal address."
"You are designated Doctor Chapel,
except when you are alone and then you are to be called Christine."
So literal, she sighed. "Rewrite parameters,
Computer. Use of informal address, for all crewmembers, is to be limited to
when they are alone *and* in their own quarters. Understood?"
"Understood. Rewriting parameters for
informal address. Does this overwrite the commands of those crewmembers that do
not wish any form of informal address while alone and in their quarters."
She sighed. Perhaps she had created a
monster. "No. Default is formal address at all times. Only if a crewmember
gives you permission for informal address will you use it."
"Understood, Doctor Chapel. Opening
partition one."
The wall dissolved and the room suddenly
doubled in size. Any medium size reception could be held in here. "Open
partition two."
"Opening." Again the far wall
dissolved and the room became larger still.
"Open partition three," she
ordered.
"Opening." The room went from where
she stood all the way to the aft viewports that made up the far wall of the now
immense space. We could hold an interstellar cotillion in here and still have
room for twister, she laughed.
"Impressive, is it not?" Spock's
voice was close to her ear. She had not even heard him come up.
"It really is. Did you pick the
décor?"
"No. I was busy building an airplane out
of refuse with you when that was done. But I approve completely of the scheme
they have chosen." He moved to stand next to her.
"When I first got here I wondered why we
had so many storage rooms, now I understand."
"Yes, tables for dinners, seating for
private conversations, other types of seating for musical events or for signing
ceremonies."
"Amazing. And the greenhouse and
hydroponics area. Flowers of all types and rows of potted palms and other trees
for natural dividers. I must admit, I love that area of the ship."
"As do I. I find it restful to sit
there."
She smiled at him. "Me too."
He ordered the computer to close the
partitions and led her out of the space and past various meeting rooms on the
other side of the hallway. These rooms could also expand if necessary.
They entered the turbolift. "Deck 2,
forward" he requested. They got off and turned to the large doors facing
the forward end of the ship. "I believe this is not quite finished,"
he explained, "But I would like to see how far they have progressed."
The doors whooshed open and they found
themselves in an area similar to the crew lounge one floor below them. It was
the VIP observation deck. A place where visitors could go for solitude or for
private meetings or simply to watch the stars stream by. It was clear that the
room was unfinished but it was already well on its way to being a beautiful
space.
"It's lovely. Too bad it is reserved for
guests."
"That was one of the first things I
thought when I initially saw it. It is a perfect spot for meditation."
"Or for a party." She waited for
his annoyed glance, was not disappointed. She chuckled out loud as she led him
out the door and back down the hall.
They passed several doors then Spock stopped
at the next bank of rooms. "Have you seen the VIP quarters, Doctor?"
"They weren't finished last time I
looked in." She palmed open the door and gasped at the luxury in the room.
"Wow are they all like this?" Ornate but comfortable furniture,
beautiful objects and art, and viewports all down one wall. She walked into the
bathroom and stopped at the sunken tub. "Ok that does it, I'm changing
rooms."
Spock's eyes danced. "This furniture
will soon be back in storage. They were just testing the transporters today.
There are a variety of levels of grandeur this and the other VIP rooms can take
on depending on the importance of the visitor. Several of the rooms can be
configured to support species that need special environments to survive."
She allowed him to gesture her out. The door
closed behind her. "Most impressive, but I still want that bathtub."
"Sorry, Doctor. The luxury is for
guests." He stopped at her doorway.
"Figures. This is my stop. I'll see you
tomorrow, Spock."
"Indeed Christine. Sleep well." He
turned and continued down the hall to his own quarters.
She stepped into her quarters and took a good
look around. And laughed. She might not have a sunken tub but these rooms--and
she was thrilled to have more than one--were enormous, and comfortable. She had
never had it so good, she thought as she went into the bathroom to get ready
for bed.
**********************
They met up after breakfast in his ready
room. The wall screen was blank but would soon be filled with holostills of
their choices for the senior staff positions. Christine took a seat at the
table across from Spock. "Where do you want to start?"
"Medical. What are your
recommendations?"
"I've decided that the Medical
Department would best be divided up into four sections. General Sickbay, the
Biomed Lab, Infectious Diseases, and Disaster Relief. For Head of Sickbay and
general medical operations I'd like to propose Dr. Delynn Carpenter. She's a
first rate doctor and an excellent administrator. And she has a great interest
in serving on this ship." She saw him nodding and continued, "I think
that we should give that a high priority if our candidates actually want to
work in this mission area. Not everyone will."
"Agreed. What is Doctor Carpenter's
rank?"
"Lt. Commander." She watched as
Spock accessed the appropriate file. Carpenter's image with the title stamped
underneath, was the first on the large screen.
"For the Biomed Lab, I didn't agree with
any of Starfleet's choices. I believe Dr. Leon Redmoon to be one of the best
candidates and he seemed extremely interested in the position when I talked to
him yesterday. He is currently dean of the biomed department at Starfleet
Medical, which is probably why they didn't offer him up. But he is ready to get
back into real practice. He's a civilian on contract, but if necessary will
accept a commission for the duration."
"I am willing to make the argument for
civilians on this ship. I have one in the diplomatic ranks that I would like to
take advantage of as well. If we must we will have them commissioned, but I do
not believe it is necessary." Spock accessed the pad again and Redmoon's
image joined Carpenter's.
"For Infectious Diseases I agree with
Starfleet on their primary recommendation. Dr. Candace Moorehouse is one of the
finest specialists in the Federation. And she is intensely interested in the
position here. She is a commander." Christine waited for her image to pop
up on the screen. "For Disaster Relief, I want to go with one of
Starfleet's choices, and a woman I worked with closely while I was in charge of
Emergency Operations, Lt. Commander Renata Farrell."
"She is not a doctor?"
"No. But that won't matter. She's been
working in the field for a long time and she knows as much, if not more, about
disaster relief operations than any doctor I know, including myself. I want her
here, Spock."
"Very well, Doctor." He added her
image to the group. "How do you plan to staff the rest of the medical
department."
"I am willing to let each of my section
chiefs staff their own areas from Starfleet's recommendation. I noted for them
the people that I felt would be an asset. I am interested to see if they go
with my recommendations or not. It will give me an idea what to expect from
them during our mission."
"You would be within you rights as CMO
to insist that they honor your suggestions."
She nodded slowly. "Yes, as CMO I would.
And if CMO were all I had to be on this ship, I'd take a more active role. But
I also have to be first officer, so I will need a strong command team in
medical. I'll be there to help, to get them supplies, to do whatever they need.
But I won't be running the day to day ops of that department, not if I am also
responsible for answering to you on the day to day running of the ship."
"Logical." He sat back. "I am
faced with a similar situation for Diplomatic. I have decided to go the same
route with key sections within my department. For the Protocol section, I have
selected Commander Stephen Penhallon. I have worked with him before and he is
impeccable in his understanding of the ins and outs of diplomatic functions and
negotiations." Christine nodded agreement and Penhallon's image appeared
with the others. "For Research and Legal I should like to suggest a young
Vulcan civilian I recently worked with. His name is Sovar and he has worked for
my father for some time." Again Christine nodded and the Vulcan's image
joined the group.
Spock sat back and steepled his fingers.
"I have debated whether Catering and Entertainment should be a subsection
under Protocol or a section itself. I have decided to go the latter route and
believe that one of the Federation's current specialists in this area, Lt. Umachi
Ritsuko, would make an excellent addition to the staff." Ritsuko's face
and name popped up on the screen. "For Linguistics and Culture I see the
best fit being Lt. Commander Andrew Troi. He has enormous experience at both
first contact and membership negotiations." Troi's holo joined the others.
Christine thought about the way Spock had his
department organized. "What are you going to do about Diplomatic
Security?"
"Yes, a quandary. I believe it would
best be served by having the cadre drawn from the Special Ops forces and not
from a separate unit in and of itself."
She nodded agreement. "Makes sense. But
choosing the Special Ops head looks like the most difficult choice of them
all."
"Yes. On the one hand, a mission such as
this will bore a leader that lives for action. And if we get involved in
peacekeeping that can be frustrating for a commander. But on the other we do
not want someone who plans to use this post as a last tour before
retirement."
"I've eliminated many of the names for
all of those reasons. I have about six viable candidates, but I keep coming
back to one man. Lt. Colonel Randall...
"...Kerr," Spock finished for her.
"Yes he is my choice as well." The face appeared on the screen.
"Do you agree that we leave it up to him to staff his contingent of marine
special forces and guards?"
"Yes. I think we might want to give him
ship's security too. Give his department more to do and keep it all in one
place?"
Spock nodded agreement.
She scrolled through her pad for the next
group of appointments. "The remaining positions are likely to be the most
difficult, Spock."
He nodded. "Would you like to take a
break before we continue?"
She shook her head. "No. Let's just get
this done."
"As you wish. Do you have any strong preference
for Tactical?"
"Honestly, no. I'm willing to accept
Starfleet's recs for that."
"As am I. I believe their first choice,
Lt. Myrax Thra, is the best choice." At Christine's nod he put Myrax's
image with the rest. "For Engineering I would like to propose a Lt.
Commander Ron Kettering. I worked with him several times during the initial
overtures to the Klingon government. He is currently deputy chief Engineer on
the Lomax."
Christine supported this choice
wholeheartedly. "I met
"I have met Lt. Kavall. I concur that
she is an outstanding officer. But perhaps a bit junior for this
assignment?"
"She's only junior because she didn't
enroll in the Academy till after she had worked for several science
foundations. She was a consultant for us long before she became regular
Starfleet."
"As you say, she is exemplary, but I
must admit I prefer Lt. Commander Torville Sallett."
Christine thought back to her few meetings
with Sallett. "He's good. I'll give you that. But I think Kavall has more
experience with this sort of mission. And her specialty is physics whereas
Sallett's is biochem. I believe with a ship full of Medical personnel we've got
the biochem covered."
Spock was silent for a moment. Then he met
her eyes. "Logical. And impassioned, as I have come to expect of you. Is
Kavall a friend?"
Christine smiled, "I'm her mentor."
Spock's expression seemed bitter to her.
"A complicated relationship, that between mentor and protégé. One I
understand but have had limited success with. Despite that, I will honor your
desire to help this young woman."
"Thank you." As Kavall's image
appeared on the screen, Chapel remembered back to Spock's two protégés. Saavik
had done well in the Academy and continued to excel as an officer in the fleet.
Valeris on the other hand. Certainly every Starfleet officer knew her name,
although this level of infamy was probably not the effect she had been going for
when she first set out on the road to treason. Christine knew there was more to
Spock's relationship with Valeris than just one of mentoring. But she would let
it go. It was in the past and she could afford to ignore it. For now.
Gods she was tired of this, Christine
realized. "I have no strong preferences for the remaining positions. If
you are satisfied with Starfleet's recommendations then I propose we accept
them for Helm, Navigation, and Communications."
Spock looked at his notes. "Yes I concur
for those positions. Lt. Saldusta for Communications. Lt. Mark Kimble for Helm,
and Lt. Kenara Sabuti for Navigation." The three faces popped up,
completing the screen. "Engineering positions I will leave to the
discretion of Commander Kettering. Other ship's positions we will defer to
Starfleet Command." He looked at her for concurrence. At her nod he sent
their selections on to Starfleet.
Christine tried to stifle a yawn but failed.
She leaned back against the chair's headrest. "Well Captain. We have a
ship, and now we are on our way to having a crew. When do you think Starfleet
will concur?"
"Hopefully within a few days. Then we
can get the Department heads busy on their own crew selections. I believe we
could have the senior staff assembled as early as two weeks from now. The rest
of the crew should be on board in another two weeks. The launching ceremony is
set for 6 weeks from today."
Christine listened to the silence of the
nearly empty ship around them. "Hard to believe that 350 people will soon
be roaming these halls."
"I'd prefer it if they were working as
well." His eyes lightened the comment. "But yes, I admit to some
nostalgia already for the quiet time we are enjoying now." He rose and
walked to the view port. "We are about to make history."
"Funny, I thought you'd already done
that." She smiled at him as he glanced back at her. "First Vulcan in
Starfleet. Melded with V'Ger. Died a hero. Reborn a legend. One of the saviors
of Earth. An architect of the Klingon-Federation peace. And now this." Her
smile turned into a grin. "Quite a legacy, Captain Spock."
"I suppose if I were given to
vanity..."
"Which you're not."
"Which I'm not. I would say that you are
extremely lucky to be serving with me."
She laughed out loud. "And I'd say it
was humans like me that saved your sorry ass and got you where you are
today." At his faux outraged look she continued, "If you were given
to vanity that is."
"Well it is fortunate for us both that I
am not."
"Yes," she said as she rose and
walked to the door, "it is. Damned fortunate. See you at dinner?"
"Of course. The crew lounge or the mess
hall?"
Christine knew her expression was devilish.
"Let's be bad, Spock. Let's eat in the VIP Observation Lounge."
He shook his head hopelessly at her but she
noticed he did not say no.
*****************************
The new crew stood before her, assembled in
straight, correct lines like a cadet review. She mentally reviewed what she
needed to go over with them. Policies, procedures, assignments, then she would
introduce Spock as their new captain. She looked out over the ranks and smiled.
Some smiled back. Others seemed slightly embarrassed. One near the front
started laughing.
"Ensign," she barked in her best
Starfleet drill instructor voice. "Is there something funny?"
"Sir, yes sir." The young man
replied, still trying to contain his amusement.
"And that would be?"
"Well, sir, ummm," he was fighting
to keep his eyes up. "Is that the uniform we will all be expected to
wear?"
Puzzled Christine looked down to check her
dress uniform. Was there a stain on it? She was lax sometimes about making sure
it was spotless. When her eyes met bare skin she felt an instant flush. She
looked out over the crowd and saw they were all laughing now.
BZZZZZZ. Christine sat up with a start.
"Alarm off."
"Yes, Christine."
"Shit." She hadn't had the naked
dream since her MD orals at Starfleet Medical. "Lights." She pulled
herself out of bed and stumbled into the shower. As the warm water hit her skin
she began to feel human again. Four of the new senior staff were arriving today
on the incoming shuttle. She knew she was a little nervous about meeting the
first of the crew. More nervous, apparently, than she had realized. Her
subconscious reserved the naked dream for only really big stressors.
Toweling off she pulled on an everyday
uniform and dried her hair, tucking it up into a neat bun. Before she had made
it to the door most of it had fallen out of the clips. Should just cut you all
off, she threatened the wayward strands as she went back into the bathroom to
spray it into place. Someday it would grow out from her last disastrous attempt
at short hair and she would not have to go through this every morning. Someday
could not come too soon.
She checked the chrono. The shuttle would be
here in fifteen minutes. She had time for a quick breakfast so she dialed up
some food from the replicator in her cabin. Senior officers all had that luxury
on this ship. The rest of the crew still had to face the mess halls if they
wanted to eat. Christine had heard rumors that Starfleet was toying with the
idea of having replicators in every sleeping area. Would certainly save time,
she thought, as she hurried through her toast and cereal.
She found Spock waiting for her at the
shuttle docking port. "Doctor."
"Captain." She heard the familiar
clink of the moorings being settled and the shuttle door opened.
The first person off was the head of
infectious diseases. She stopped to stand in front of them, made a smart
salute, and asked Spock, "Permission to come aboard, Sir?"
Spock returned the salute. "Permission
granted, Commander Moorehouse."
As they all exchanged the requisite
pleasantries, Christine studied the doctor. The fit black female in front of
her was in her early 50's, a mother of two, married to the head of Starfleet
Legal. Christine knew her by reputation mainly; they had never worked together
enough to become friends. Moorehouse had logged an astounding amount of hours
with plagues and epidemics. She had worked on four vaccines, and had sole
credit for two. She had also discovered the first successful treatment of
Barlian Plague. From what Christine had heard, the commander was tender with
patients and matter of fact with co-workers. But she had been popular with
those who served under her. She never asked more of her staff than she was
willing to give.
Moorehouse moved to stand beyond them and the
next person took her place. The young Vulcan who would be head of research and
legal looked entirely at ease as he nodded to her then spoke to Spock.
"Sovar. Reporting for duty, Sir." He was a typical Vulcan, dark hair,
black eyes, tawny complexion. Next to Spock's grizzled face he looked like a
baby.
"Welcome aboard, Sovar." Spock's
voice was of course no warmer for his fellow Vulcan than it had been for the
doctor.
Christine felt a huge smile cross her face as
the next person came to stand in front of them. Lt. Commander Renata Farrell,
new head of disaster relief, saluted both of them before intoning the ritual
request for access. She looked much the same as Christine remembered her.
Blonde hair pinned up in a precise bun, uniform as pristine as the moment she
had put it on, posture perfectly Starfleet. Only her answering grin, which she
was trying unsuccessfully to quash, gave away her true personality. Farrell's
tiny form had led her to be nicknamed Pixie in the Academy. People at first
glance saw only the exceptionally attractive female and often treated her
protectively. Farrell hated it and made sure that nobody underestimated her
twice. The slight frame hid a strength and tenacity that consistently left
Christine in awe. . She was also envious of Farrell's ability to swear. She
almost laughed out loud at the memory of the last ensign that had thought
Farrell was too little to be a problem for him. There would no doubt be more of
them on this ship. And more romantic conquests. Christine decided that every
male at one time or another had been in love with her. And not an insignificant
number of the females, which Farrell preferred.
Her friend joined Moorehouse and Sovar. The
last officer stepped onto the Carter. Lt. Umachi Ritsuko was no taller than
Farrell and had to look up as she returned her new commanding officers'
salutes. "Permission to come aboard, Sir?" Her voice still held a
trace of her Japanese origin. Christine had little information about her other
than what was in her file and she was looking forward to getting to know the
young woman.
"Permission granted." Spock nodded
pleasantly as he engaged his new head of catering and entertainment in conversation.
Christine glanced over at Farrell. Just as
she had suspected her friend was looking at the newcomer with interest. It was
a joke between them that Renata could have her next girlfriend picked out
before her shuttle had even docked. Nice to know nothing had changed.
As Ritsuko took her place with the others,
Spock turned to them. "Welcome aboard your ship. As head of diplomatic I
shall show Lt. Ritsuko and Mr. Sovar to their offices and quarters. Dr.
Moorehouse and Commander Farrell, you will go with Commander Chapel. I look
forward to working with all of you."
He's getting better, Christine thought, as
she led the two women down to deck 6 for a quick tour. Then they took the lift
down a level to infectious diseases section. "Dr. Moorehouse, this is your
area. There are offices all around the sides. The largest one is in the
back."
They both followed Moorehouse around as she
expected her new domain. Christine almost expected her to bring out the white
glove. She felt relieved when the other woman turned back to them, a large
smile transforming her normally serious face. "This is amazing. Have you
seen all the things they've included."
Christine felt an answering grin on her face
as she led them on a quick tour of the rest of the deck finally stopping at
Farrell s space.
Farrell turned to Christine with the same
awed smile that Moorehouse had worn. "They didn't forget anything. I never
expected something this ummm..."
"Perfect." Moorhouse finished for
her. For a moment the three women enjoyed the feeling of getting to know their
new ship and each other. Then Christine led them up to deck 2.
"Senior officer's quarters are all on
this deck."
"So much for privacy," Farrell
muttered.
Christine laughed. "That was what I
thought but look," she led them up and down the deck, to which Starfleet
had added numerous halls running off the main one and joining some secondary
halls. The intricate layout meant that no more than two quarters opened on to
any one hallway. "Privacy after all."
"Wow." Moorehouse said as the doors
to her quarters opened. Her quarters were exceptionally roomy and pleasant. She
saw that her bags and cartons had been brought on board while they were touring
the medical decks and smiled. "I like efficiency."
Christine laughed. "Well I'll leave you
to unpack then? I know you've finished your crew selections so let's meet in
three hours to go over that and get it back to Starfleet for approval." As
she led Farrell back out she saw that Moorehouse had already broken into her
first carton. She really does like efficiency, Christine laughed to herself.
Farrell's quarters were around two corners.
Similarly appointed she too had cartons and satchels waiting to be unpacked. As
the doors closed both women lost their rigidity and fell into a hug.
"God I've missed you, Chris."
Farrell's voice was muffled in Chapel's chest. "But why are you still so
damned tall?"
Christine laughed out loud. "Just one of
the many reasons we would never work out."
"Well that and the fact that you aren't
willing to try me." Farrell waggled her eyebrows suggestively. This was an
old joke between them. "So serving with the old heartthrob, huh? How is
that working out?" Farrell unpacked as she listened.
"Amazingly well. We complement each
other." No way in hell was she going to confide that there might be
something more going on with Spock. Not yet anyway. But she knew if anything
did happen, Renata would be the first one she told. "So what about that
Lt. Ritsuko?"
Farrell scowled at her. "Oh Christine.
Most unprofessional. I am a career officer. I would never look at a fellow
crewmember in that way."
"Yeah, well, the first part was true
anyway. So how do you know she'll be interested?"
Farrell laughed. "How do you know she
won't."
Christine got up and held her hands out in
surrender. "I bow to your greater experience in these matters. And I know
if you do get her she won't know what hit her, Commander Smooth."
"Well that's better than Pixie, I guess.
Do you want me at the meeting with Moorehouse?"
"No. Why don't we meet a couple hours
before dinner?"
Farrell nodded. "Sounds good. Go get to
work, Commander. Oh and by the way congratulations on the promotion. And the
posting. It's about damn time."
Christine laughed again. "Thanks. On all
counts. First Officer...it's a little overwhelming but I'm enjoying it."
"You'll do great." Farrell's
supportive smile was totally sincere.
"I have missed you, Ren." The two
women grinned at each other for a moment before Christine turned and returned
to the bridge.
************************
Christine sat up groggily as the alarm
sounded. "Alarm off," she mumbled. The sound continued. She tried
again, louder. "Alarm off, damn it all!"
This time the computer heard her. "Yes,
Christine."
It cannot be time to get up already, she thought.
She looked at the chrono. It was time to get up. She thought back and
remembered that Renata and she had stayed up half the night talking and
laughing and getting reacquainted. She had a flash of many bottles scattered
around her main room. Well maybe there was another reason she felt so bad. She
got up and held her head. She hadn't had a hangover for so long. She must have
been really looped last night to have forgotten to take the antitox. She
gingerly made her way to the replicator and requested the counteractive agent.
Deciding she couldn't face food until the shot took effect, she headed for the
shower. The water felt good and she spent longer than usual underneath the
strong warm stream. The warning buzzer that her allotment was nearly over went
off long before she was ready to get out.
It took her three tries to get her hair up in
a manner remotely resembling regulation. By the time she pulled on a uniform
there was no time to do anything but hurry to the shuttle port to welcome the
next load of senior crew. Well, she thought optimistically, at least I'm still
in too much pain to be nervous.
She rounded the corner and saw Spock waiting
for her, with something approaching a frown on his face. She barely got into
place when the door started to open.
"Late night, Christine?" he hissed
as the first person stepped through the door.
Bastard, she thought. Don't leave me any time
to get a snappy retort out. Not that she was actually in any shape for one of
those. The best she could probably come up with at this point was "go to
hell" and that would hardly be a smart thing to say to her Captain just as
the new head of Engineering was coming aboard.
Lt. Commander Ron Kettering saluted them both.
"Permission to come aboard, Sir?"
"Permission granted," Spock
replied.
Kettering was a slightly built human in his
late forties. Christine recalled what Spock had said about him. They had first
met on the Lomax during the negotiations with the Klingon government. Kettering
had sought Spock out to tell him he was a friend and protégé of Scotty's. His
mentor had always spoken so highly of the Vulcan that Kettering had been eager
to meet him. They had become friends during the long missions. Kettering had
admitted to Spock that Scotty had always intimidated him and how he had feared
that he would never be more than a "miracle worker in training."
Spock had called Kettering one of the most even-tempered humans he had ever
met. He had also mentioned that he was looking forward to resuming the
perpetual cribbage match he and the engineer had used to pass some of the
hours. Looking at the engineer Christine could see a confident but not a cocky
man. She had a good feeling about him. And that was important since their lives
would often be in his hands.
The next person to stand in front of them
exuded power. Marine Lt. Colonel Randall Kerr, looked every inch the special
forces career officer he was. He was not especially tall but the bulk of him
made her feel small, which was no small feat. With muscles everywhere, he
looked capable of fighting his way single-handedly out of a group of Klingons.
According to the reports that she and Spock had read on him his mind and
personality were as formidable as his physique. His salute was perfect and his
request to come aboard did not sound like an empty ritual. He appeared to be
the perfect choice for commander of the small group of special operations
forces the Carter would carry.
The next being to come aboard was totally
exotic. Communications Officer Lt. Saldusta was half human and half Qamaljr'n.
Her mother hailed from Qamaljr, a mostly ocean world and recent member of the
Federation. Her father had been one of the first Starfleet officers to visit
the planet. The lieutenant was quite striking with her mix of Latino coloring
and iridescent green-blue scales. She looked like the women Christine had seen
once during a Carnival celebration in Rio all tan skin and beautiful colors
sewn, glued, or painted on. But she knew that the lieutenant was more than just
decorative, from all reports Saldusta's heritage gave her an exceptional
ability at multitasking, especially with incoming comms. From a young age she
had been used to receiving a variety of signals underwater and sorting them
out.
As Christine studied her she saw a small
amount of vapor escape upwards from a large silver torque around Saldusta's
neck. Having read the woman's medical files to make sure that no special
accommodation would be needed, Christine had discovered that a great deal of
genetic tinkering had insured that this first child of a Human-Qamaljr'n mating
would be able to exist on both her home worlds. She could breathe air for an
unlimited period, but it tended to be too dry and she would become hoarse without
additional humidity. The choker was actually an advanced humidifier that pulled
moisture out of the air and delivered it to her in the form of cool vapor.
Christine saw Saldusta smile at Spock but was
surprised to find the young woman's eyes grow cold when they landed on her. So
you don't like me already, she thought. It wasn't surprising really. Saldusta's
mother had abandoned her at age five. Qamaljr'n parents did not stay joined or
with their young much past weaning. Staying for five years with her young
daughter and the human she had mated with had been a major concession on the
female's part. But Christine was sure that Saldusta did not see it that way.
Even though she had spent many of her formative years on her home planet, and
had followed the Qamaljr'n custom of combining her parent's names into one for
her maturity, she had never forgiven her mother for abandoning her. The psych
report that Christine had been sent *after* they had decided to bring Saldusta
on board had been quite forthcoming about her issues. Starfleet had wanted this
woman on this ship and by all accounts she was a talented officer, but
Christine did not look forward to the fight that was undoubtedly going to
happen between them. As Saldusta continued to look at her distantly, Christine
kept her own expression carefully bland and friendly. Not yet little one, she
thought with irritation. And certainly not here. But soon.
Helmsman Lt. Mark Kimble took Saldusta's
place. He was so much the alien's opposite that Christine felt as if a fresh
breeze had just blown through the area. Handsome, young, and endearingly
earnest, she almost expected to hear him say 'Aw shucks, ma'am.' His humble and
friendly air was belied by his efficiency reports. He was reportedly one of the
finest young pilots in Starfleet. She gave him a warm smile as he moved to
stand next to Saldusta. She saw the young woman also smile at him. No problem
with men, she confirmed. Just with women. And with me especially. This should
be interesting.
Head Navigator Lt. Kenara Sabuti was
instantly recognizable as one of the daughters of the original Martian
colonists. Like all the old families she was an elegant mix of African, Anglo,
Asian, and Amerindian blood. When the colonies had been first established the
original settlers had kept diligent track of the bloodlines to ensure that the
genetic mix did not become weak by too much inbreeding. The result had been a
people who were extremely attractive with their balanced blend of features and
dark olive complexions. They also tended to be arrogant and held themselves
apart from those who had more recently settled on Mars. Sabuti carried herself
proudly, but she had reasons other than just being descended from the founding
fathers for she had graduated with top honors in navigation at the academy.
The last face was a relief. Lt. Commander
Delynn Carpenter stepped up to salute and take her place as director of
sickbay. She looked only slightly older than the last time Christine had seen
her. It had been just before Carpenter had shipped out for a two-year tour as
CMO at Starbase 2. Her dark red hair, pale skin, and enormous gray eyes were a
familiar comfort. Carpenter had never been as close personally to Christine as
Farrell, but they had worked together for so long that they were incredibly
comfortable with each other's methods. Christine knew that of all her officers
she would have the least difficulty with Carpenter.
Spock gave the same short welcome as the day
before. Christine expected him to take the bridge crew with Kettering and Kerr
but he told them to go with her. Saldusta looked extremely put out and made a
strange click of disapproval.
Spock turned back to her. His expression was
stern. "Do you have a problem, Lieutenant?"
"We serve you, Sir. We are your bridge
crew. I would prefer to learn from you."
Self expression isn't one of her problems,
Christine thought as she watched Spock's face go colder than she had ever seen
it.
"Lieutenant, I am only going to say this
once. Commander Chapel is the first officer of this vessel and as such is
responsible for the operations on it. All of the operations. Furthermore she is
the one that will write your efficiency reports, not I. So if you are trying to
ingratiate yourself, I suggest you turn your attention to her. Is there anything
that I said that you do not understand?"
Her face had frozen. "No sir."
He turned and walked off, followed closely by
his chief engineer and head of special forces.
Vapor hissed around Saldusta's face as she
turned to Christine. "I do not like you."
"I never would have guessed,"
Christine replied, keeping her voice carefully neutral. "We've wasted
enough time, let's start the familiarization tour."
She moved off followed by the others, who
eagerly asked questions and expressed their admiration for the new ship.
Saldusta remained in the back, saying nothing but Christine could feel the
woman's eyes fastened on her back. And those eyes were full of hatred. I hope
to hell Starfleet knew what they were doing with this one, Christine thought
gloomily.
***********************
The next day Christine had an early meeting
with Spock to go over the remaining arrivals. She was relieved to hear that
they had done their last arrival ceremony. The rest of the senior staff would
be coming in on separate shuttles.
When the meeting was over they sat for a
moment in companionable silence. As Christine rose to leave, Spock surprised
her by saying, "I miss it." She turned back, waiting for him to
elaborate.
"The quiet of the ship before. I miss
that." One of his eyebrows rose in an 'imagine that' way. "I also
miss our dinners. We have not had one since the crew started to arrive."
"Well how about tonight?"
He frowned slightly. "I have dinner and
cribbage plans with Commander Kettering. I am free tomorrow."
She shook her head. "Get-to-know-you
dinner with Dr. Moorehouse. I'm free the next day though."
"As am I. Then it is set. I shall look
forward to it."
She smiled at him. "Me too, Spock."
She turned again to leave.
"I was displeased by Lt. Saldusta's
display."
She looked back at him. "Yes. She was
out of line."
"I am not sure that my reprimand will be
sufficient to change her attitude. If you wish I will attempt to..."
"No." Christine interrupted without
hesitation. "Leave her to me."
*********************
Sickbay was awash with lights as Christine
met with Dr. Carpenter to go over the rest of the assignments for the section.
She had no quarrel with any of Carpenter's picks, and all of her
recommendations had been included in the appointments. She sent the list on to
Starfleet. "We should get approval later today or tomorrow. Then your
staff will start to arrive probably as early as four days from now."
"Can't be too soon for me,"
Carpenter grinned. "I am dying to get this place up and running. Have you
checked out the new diagnostic beds?"
"Yeah. They're something aren't
they?"
"Everything on this ship is. Top of the
line everywhere you look. I'm in love." They both laughed. "So when
is Dr. Redmoon getting in?"
Christine shrugged in frustration. "I'm
still *working that out* with Starfleet Medical. They really don't want to lose
him. He is pulling some strings on his end too. I'm hoping we see him in a few
days, but it could be a week before they let him go."
"Jerks."
"Yeah."
"Speaking of jerks, what's with that
Saldusta person?"
Christine took a deep breath. She wanted to
talk to Carpenter about this, but it really wasn't right. Not yet anyway. She
has spent her lunch hour reading everything in the files on Saldusta in
preparation for an afternoon meeting she had called with the woman. "Oh,
she's just settling in."
"Yeah right." Carpenter held her
hands up at the look Christine gave her. "Ok, you can't talk about. But if
you need another signature on her medical discharge I'll be happy to
oblige."
"Thanks but I don't think it will come
to that."
"Well you've got more faith than I
do," Carpenter said with a knowing look. "That one has psycho written
all over her."
"I'll be the judge of that,"
Christine replied with more assurance than she actually felt.
**********************
The door chime rang and Christine took a deep
breath. I've just got to channel my inner bitch, she thought encouragingly.
"Come."
Saldusta entered, her face sullen. "You
wanted to see me."
"I did. Sit down." As she expected,
Saldusta remained standing. "I can make it an order if you prefer,
Lieutenant." The woman sat down. "I didn't like your attitude
yesterday, Lieutenant, and I don't like it now."
Saldusta looked bored as she leaned back in
the chair. Her tone was bitter. "So run to your Captain and tell him you
don't like me and boot me off the ship."
Christine gave a derisive laugh.
"Sweetie, if I want you off this ship I don't need Spock's permission. As
CMO I can *boot* you off the Carter any time I damn well please."
Christine noted Saldusta's surprise at her supervisor's tone. She felt a
momentary pang of guilt for lying--technically, because she served in multiple
roles and not just CMO, she needed another medical signature to declare anyone
medically incompetent. But Saldusta didn't need to know that.
"Good to know," Saldusta countered,
but her voice was just a little less assured.
"From what I've read in your files you
seem to have some serious issues. Pain, betrayal, anger."
Saldusta leaned forward, her aqua eyes
flashing, her tone mocking. "So here it comes. The part where you turn
into nurture woman and tell me how you understand my pain and can help me. Just
say it. Come on. You're a woman and so am I, and you can make it all go
away." Her anger was tangible.
"Lieutenant, I don't give a rat's ass
about your pain. And I don't want to make it all go away. Your pain is your own
and if you want to carry it around forever that's your business. But I do care
how you do your job. Forget that whole woman to woman crap. We are both
officers in this fleet and as such there are certain standards of conduct that
are expected." Christine stared unflinchingly at the younger woman, who
finally dropped her eyes. Christine waited till Saldusta looked at her again
before she continued. "I don't care if you like me. Frankly you may hate
me some of the time and that is fine. And I don't ask that you respect me as a
person because you don't even know me yet. But I do expect you to work hard, to
do your best, and to respect the uniform we both wear. You want to brood and be
angry, go ahead. But leave it in your quarters because when you step onto the
bridge, or the mess hall, or by god even into the corridor outside your rooms
you are representing this fleet and this ship and I expect you to act like the
professional I know you are. Is that understood."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Sir. I prefer Sir. Which should work
well for you, Lieutenant. Help you to think of me less as a female authority
figure and more as your first officer."
"Yes, Sir."
"Very well, dismissed."
Saldusta sat in the chair, surprise evident
on her face. "What?"
Christine looked up at her. She kept her face
carefully neutral. "Dismissed, Lieutenant."
Confusion replaced surprise. "But we
haven't resolved anything? Don't you want to talk?"
"Not particularly. If there are things
to be resolved, I'll leave that up to you, Lieutenant. I have nothing to work
out."
"But you hate me."
Christine frowned. "I don't even know
you, Saldusta. How could I hate or like you? And frankly it doesn't matter how
I feel about you as long as you do your job to the best of your abilities and
comport yourself to the credit of this ship. I know that you are reportedly one
of the best communications officer in the fleet. Now go demonstrate that.
Dismissed."
Christine dropped her head and picked up a
pad, pretending to work. She heard Saldusta's mumbled "Yes, Sir," and
out of the corner of her eye saw the lieutenant get up and walk to the door.
She waited for the sound of the door opening but Saldusta had stopped to look
back. Christine could hear the soft hiss of her vapor being released but other
than that there was no sound. She resisted the urge to look up but could
imagine the bemusement that the lieutenant must be feeling. Finally the door
opened and closed behind the communications officer.
Christine leaned back in her chair. It had
been hard not to reach out to Saldusta but her gut instinct told her that the
best course was the one she had taken. Saldusta was in no shape to receive
help. In fact it just might be like sticking one's hand into the tiger's cage.
Not smart for the one who wants to help, and it would just irritate the tiger.
*****************
That night Christine spent a pleasant evening
with Carpenter and Farrell in the crew lounge. It was good to be among friends
again. She had known that having Farrell aboard would mean that a confidant and
support would be there for her, but she was beginning to believe that Carpenter
would also prove to be more than just an excellent work ally. And Carpenter and
Farrell were hitting it off well too. Just so long as we don't make too tight a
clique, she realized. As first officer she couldn't afford to appear to favor
any of her officers to the detriment of the others.
They talked and laughed for several hours
then finally rose to take their trays to the recycler. As she turned to the
door she nearly ran into Kimble and Saldusta coming in for their own meal. The
younger officers pulled up sharply to avoid running into their first officer.
"Ma'am, excuse us, Ma'am." Kimble
was clearly mortified at the near collision.
"She prefers Sir," Saldusta offered
in a voice that Christine had not heard her use before. It sounded almost
helpful.
"Good memory, Lieutenant." She
offered in a neutral voice, then couldn't resist giving her a conspiratorial
smile. Saldusta did not smile back, but her eyes were amused.
"My mistake ma...Sir." Kimble tried
to recover from his faux pas.
"At ease, Kimble. You didn't know. We
have our one-on-one tomorrow and I plan to fill you in on all the little things
like that."
"Thank you, Sir."
"As you were, Lieutenants." Before
she could cause Kimble any more discomfort she stepped around them and joined
her patiently waiting friends. As the door closed behind them she felt a big
smile threatening.
Carpenter saw it too. "Something happen
in there I didn't see?"
"A victory. A very small one. But I
think a significant one."
"If you say so," Carpenter said
skeptically as they all took the lift up to deck 2 and split up to go to their
quarters.
I do say so, Christine thought to herself.
Maybe there's hope for that girl yet.
*******************
The door chime gently intruded on Christine's
work. "Come," she said in a distracted voice.
"Is this a bad time to report for
duty?"
Laughing out loud, she rose from her chair
and rushed to hug her visitor. "Nevara, I didn't think you were coming for
another two days?"
"I got an early release." She
pulled away and snapping to formal posture saluted Christine briskly.
"Science Officer Nevara Kavall reporting for duty. Permission to come
aboard, Sir?"
Christine returned the salute,
"Permission granted, Lieutenant." Christine studied her protégé for a
moment. Nevara would never have a face that most people would deem
traditionally beautiful but she was so full of life that nearly everyone she
met was immediately drawn to her. Even in uniform and at attention she seemed
on the verge of grinning madly. Christine could feel her mood lightening just
from her presence. "At ease, Lieutenant. Sit down and tell me how things
have been going?"
As Kavall filled her in she couldn't help but
compare this boisterous woman with the grief-stricken one she had first met.
Married only a few months, Kavall had lost her husband to an accident caused by
an ion-storm a few weeks before Christine took the job at Emergency Operations.
Kavall had been assigned to her section and Christine had felt instant
compassion for the woman. Her experience with Roger Korby had allowed her to
empathize with the ensign, and she had taken her under her wing. It didn't
happen overnight but eventually her friend had found her footing again. They
had remained close and Christine had taken an active interest in Kavall's
career.
After they finished catching up, Christine
took her out to meet the rest of the bridge crew who were just finishing up
their shift. Saldusta was testing the comms system with a tech back at
Starfleet Command so Christine walked to where Kimble and Sabuti were
familiarizing themselves with their panels. "Lieutenants, this is
Lieutenant Nevara Kavall, our new Science Officer."
They exchanged pleasantries, Kimble
contributing most of them. Sabuti still seemed aloof. Christine heard Saldusta
cutting her connections and led Kavall over to her.
"Saldusta?" Kavall shocked
Christine by launching herself at the communications officer, who shocked her
even more by shrieking in delight and holding on tight to Kavall.
"I see you two know each other?"
Christine could not remember her friend ever mentioning the other woman.
Kavall chuckled. "Know each other? We
were only roommates for our entire time at the Academy." She looked at
Saldusta, puzzlement clear on her face. "You disappeared. I left messages.
I thought something had happened? But then I saw you made lieutenant too?"
Saldusta looked over at Christine as if
weighing how much she would say in front of her. "I had some problems.
I'll tell you some of it later."
Kavall nodded. "Absolutely you will.
God, this is so great. I've missed you so much."
Saldusta's eyes gleamed. "I've missed
you too."
Christine didn't feel like breaking up their
happy reunion. "I was just going to take Lieutenant Kavall on a tour of
the ship and show her where her quarters are. But perhaps you'd like to take care
of that for me, Lieutenant?"
"But I'm still on duty?"
"Do I need to make that an order,
Lieutenant?"
Saldusta stood up quickly. "No,
Sir." She led Kavall formally to the lift, but Christine could hear them
break into excited chatter as soon as the doors closed.
Interesting, she mused. Very interesting.
*******************
Christine was discussing crew shifts with
Spock when his office door chimed. "Come," he instructed.
The new arrival filled the door, literally.
Spock rose and Christine followed suit.
Ducking slightly to accommodate her height,
the female Manean saluted as she reported in for duty as Tactical Officer.
"Lt. Myrax Thra requesting permission to come aboard, Sir."
"Permission granted, Lt. Myrax."
Spock had to look up to meet the woman's eyes. "Welcome aboard."
"Thank you sir," Myrax replied in a
voice that sounded like music. Her face was tranquil and her gestures
controlled as she spoke to her new commanding officers. Christine found herself
struck by the great dichotomy of the Manean system. Seemingly totally at peace
with themselves and their surroundings the Maneans were physically graceful
with tall, lean bodies that were only accentuated by the long, white robes
favored on Manea. Their skin was alabaster, their eyes a soft golden topaz, and
their hair was transparent with an opalescent sheen. They looked otherworldly,
perhaps like angels, although Myrax looked less so to Christine in her
Starfleet uniform. But she still had that air of serenity. The irony was that
there were few cultures more adept at tactical than these seemingly harmless
people. Although the Maneans had not had an armed conflict on their planet in
historical memory, they were fascinated with war and battle tactics. They
studied it and played at it on their virtual playgrounds and they had honed
their skills to such an extent that they were welcomed with open arms by
Starfleet. Maneans did not normally leave their home world but since their
recent Federation membership a few had ventured into the academy. Myrax was one
of the first graduates. She was, by all accounts, a first class tactical
officer.
Christine gave her a quick tour of the ship.
She was impressed by the woman's insightful questions and interest in all of
the areas of the ship. She dropped her off at her quarters with instructions to
report to the bridge the next day for familiarization and for the first staff
meeting.
Christine hurried to her own quarters to
change into off duty clothes for her meal with Dr. Moorehouse. She met up with
her dinner partner on the way to the turbolift and, after deciding to eat in
the mess hall, they traveled to deck 4 together. When they entered the mess it
was full of on duty crewmembers, many of whom neither woman knew.
"Didn't expect to see this many
people." Moorehouse looked around curiously. "Appear to be NCOs and
enlisted."
Christine nodded at several crewmen before
replying. "Starfleet is picking most of those. This duty is considered
quite a coup I've heard. Rumor is that the fighting to get posted here is quite
intense."
"I can see why. This ship is just
amazing. I keep waiting to find something I don't like. So far I haven't."
Christine laughed. "I've had a few meals
from the replicators that really weren't up to par. Not that I didn't eat them
anyway."
"Nothing's that bad," Moorehouse
agreed as they ordered their food and found a table. Their conversation quickly
shifted to medical talk, Christine found herself fascinated with Moorehouse's
missions on the front lines of so many epidemics. The longer the other woman
talked the more Christine's respect for her grew. The level of experience the
woman had gained and the sheer dedication to her calling left Christine
somewhat in awe. She was surprised to learn that they had both been promoted at
the same time. The other woman laughed and admitted she was not very political,
a fact that had probably kept her from being promoted sooner.
"But I don't care. My rank doesn't
matter. It's the job I'm doing and how many people I can help. That's why I'm
so pleased to be here."
"And why we're so pleased to have you
here," Christine replied as they rose to take their trays to the recycler.
As she deposited her tray she noticed Farrell and Ritsuko seated near the wall
talking quietly. She considered going over to say hello but they looked very
intent on each other's conversation. Deciding to leave it alone, Christine
turned and walked with Moorehouse to the lift.
The older woman yawned. "I'm beat. Thank
you for dinner, Commander."
"Call me Christine in private,
please."
"Very well. And you can call me
Commander Moorehouse." She was obviously waiting for Christine's shocked
look. "Kidding. Call me Candace. I think it's going to be a true pleasure
working with you, Christine."
"I think so too. Sleep well."
Christine was not ready to retire yet. She was keyed up and needed to relax.
But she didn't really want to do it with people. Then she thought of the
perfect place. She waited for another lift to come. "Deck 8." Seconds
later she was walking toward the greenhouse. She spoke to the computer to gain
access and the doors opened. Less a traditional greenhouse and more a
biosphere, the space allotted for raising flowers and ornamental trees and
plants was immense. The scent of life and growth wafted toward her as she moved
into the space. Technically this room was off limits to most of the crew. But
there were benefits to being First Officer. As the doors closed behind her she
made her way through the dim light of the biosphere's artificial night to the
tropical flower room.
The scent in this area was nearly
overpowering. She loved it. Lilies, orchids, frangipani, tuberose, gardenias,
anthuriums, birds of paradise, and many other varieties of fragrant and
unscented plants filled the space. She allowed herself to just breathe in the
warm heady scents for a few minutes.
As she stood she became aware of a faint
sound. Music. She followed it, winding around palms and fig trees, past ferns
and ivies and other plants. She recognized the instrument as a harp but could
not determine the exact location. She went through the evergreens, the resinous
sharp scents of cypress, fir, juniper, and sandalwood further relaxing her.
Finally, in the rose garden, she found him.
He sat on one of the benches, eyes closed as he plucked at the strings of his
Vulcan harp. Not wanting to disturb him she turned to leave.
"Stay." His eyes did not open. Nor
did his fingers falter.
She sank soundlessly down to the mossy grass
that covered the areas between the rows of roses. At this level the smell was
nearly intoxicating. She relaxed and cradled her chin in her hands, listening
to him play. She watched his fingers move, delicately drawing out the lovely
melody. The burnished wood of the harp caught glimmers of the low light and
reflected it back to her. She felt the extra energy begin to drain away. She
folded her arms under her chin and just relaxed in the sound and the smells.
The next thing she knew Spock's hand was
gently shaking her awake. "Christine. As pleasant as this location is, I
believe your room will be a better place for prolonged slumber."
"I fell asleep?" She did not feel
any embarrassment as he helped her up and they headed to the door.
"Indeed. You made quite a fetching
picture lying there among the roses. At least until you began to snore."
She made a sound of disbelief. "I do not
snore."
"I suppose you do not drool,
either?"
She wiped her chin hastily. "Of course
not."
The door locked behind them. As they entered
the lift she glanced over at him to find that he was already looking at her.
Their eyes held for a long moment until the turbolift released them.
Spock stopped in the hallway their quarters
shared. "I look forward to dinner, tomorrow. Sleep well, Christine."
"You too, Spock." She turned and
entered her quarters. As the door was closing she could have sworn she heard
him say, "Try not to snore."
******************************
Christine looked at her chrono. It had been
about an hour since she had introduced Myrax to the rest of the bridge crew and
left her to settle in at tactical. She grabbed the five pads she had prepared
earlier and headed out. Five heads looked up and turned to watch her door
opened. She took a moment to enjoy the sight of the bridge fully staffed. From
her vantage point in the right rear of the area she could see the entire space.
Just in front of her was Kavall at the science station. To the left of that was
the tactical station with Myrax, and to the left of that Saldusta at comms. In
front of them on the lower level were the now empty Captain and First Officer's
chairs. And just ahead of those were Kimble at helm and Sabuti at navigation.
The auxiliary stations rimming the room were silent and dark. She glanced to
her left past the turbo lift to the door to Spock's ready room. Should she
invite him to this first meeting? He had not said he wanted to be present. And
it was probably better if he was absent. It would reinforce her authority.
She smiled at her crew. "I'll give you a
choice for our first meeting. We can hold it here or in my office. In the
future we'll have to hold them in my office, but this time we might want to
enjoy having this bridge, this ship, completely in our hands? It won't last
much longer."
She saw Kimble and Kavall nod. Myrax smiled
beatifically, which Christine wasn't sure how to take. I almost prefer
Saldusta's expressions she thought ruefully. At least they're unequivocal. The
woman in question was watching her blandly, apparently content to hold the
meeting wherever the majority ruled. Sabuti seemed to care even less. Her
patrician features conveyed no emotion whatever except the faint disdain they
always seemed to hold. I hope you are one hell of a navigator, Christine
thought, because you certainly aren't going to win any personality awards.
"Ok, then we do it here." She moved
around to stand on the stairs, leaning a hip against the large railing.
"First, let me say again welcome aboard." She let her gaze travel to
each of the young faces looking back at her. "This is a new ship with a
brand new mission. She's going to make history and we're going to be the ones
to help her do it. I'm proud to be here, and I'm proud to have you here.
Captain Spock and I chose you because you all came with the highest
recommendations from Starfleet Command. We chose you because we wouldn't settle
for less than excellence in our senior staff."
She moved down the stairs and started handing
out pads. "And we expect you to settle from no less from the junior
members of your departments. In these pads are the final appointments to the
backup bridge positions. They'll be arriving over the next few weeks. I expect
you to work with them, train them, show them around, make them feel welcome,
and be a mentor to them. These are your departments and I expect you to run
them. If there is a problem in your section you'll be the person I seek out for
the explanation." She looked around sternly for a moment, then relaxed her
expression. "That doesn't mean you are alone in this. I'm here to help
you. With any problems you run into that you are unsure of, or that you just
need another head working on, I'm here for you." She smiled at them.
"I don't believe in that old "no bad news" paradigm. You can
come to me with real issues, real problems. I won't solve them for you, but
I'll do my best to help you fix them." She looked around the room. Five
pairs of eyes were watching her intently. "Any questions?"
Kimble raised his hand. "There's a rumor
going around that the launching will be moved up a week? Is that true?"
Christine nodded, "Yes. Starfleet is
moving it up because another ship has been scheduled to launch at the same time
and they want the brass to only make one trip. We go first because this other
ship is more important."
Kavall sounded incredulous, "More
important than the Carter?"
Christine nodded, "Hard as it may be to
believe, yes." They all looked outraged, she laughed. "You'll
understand when you see which ship it is. As it is, we have even less time to
get ready. Three weeks from today and we'll be having our pre-launch reception.
The next day we are out of here. Finally. I don't know about you but I'm pretty
damn eager to get this puppy into space and see what she's capable of."
More hands went up and she answered questions
about the crew compliment, authorities of senior staff, and finally questions
about the Captain. She did her best to give them some tips they would need to
perform well for Spock, but in the end cut off their questions.
"Captain Spock would be disappointed in
me if I scripted your interactions with him. He is a believer in infinite
diversity in infinite combinations. He doesn't want a cookie cutter bridge
crew. He wants *you,* all of you, doing the best job you possibly can. So just
let things unfold naturally."
"And get to know each other. Take some
time to learn things about the person who sits next to you. You're going to be
depending on one another for a lot of things, including possibly making the
right decision in a life and death situation. And if that doesn't convince you,
then let me tell you the knowledge will also come in very handy if you are
paired together in a team building class, which you just might be if you really
piss me or the Captain off."
Saldusta broke first as she tried to choke
back a giggle. You've probably been to the same class we were at, Christine
thought. The rest of her staff broke into soft laughter.
Spock chose that moment to walk out of his
ready room. The laughter died immediately. He raised an eyebrow at Christine.
"Sorry to disturb your meeting, Commander."
"Perhaps you can reinforce something I
was saying, Captain. On the order of punishments where do you think team
building training falls."
His answer was instantaneous, "Not so
bad as court-martial, but definitely worse than being flogged."
Several eyes widened.
His expression became very stern. "See
that you do not earn such dire correction." He shot a quick glance at
Christine, who was trying not to laugh. "Carry on, Commander."
As the attention turned back to Christine,
she smiled innocently. "See. A perfectly reasonable man."
Four faces stared back at her as if they were
not sure whether to laugh or run for the lift. Saldusta however just shook her
head in disgust...feigned disgust, for she could not quite hide an amused
smirk.
"Ok," Christine turned serious
again. "Back to business. We need to schedule the drills and readiness
reviews, and we need to make sure we're not running into conflicts with other
sections." For the next hour, they planned the time left to them in spacedock.
She was pleased to see all the staff taking part. Even Sabuti warmed up when
her area of expertise was involved. Christine felt a rush of pride in the group
they had assembled. Their final task was to schedule private meetings with
Christine to discuss performance expectations and other issues specific to
their sections. Once she had each one scheduled in her pad she left them to
their work.
*********************
Christine was almost off shift when Spock
stopped by her office.
"I'm going down to meet with Colonel
Kerr. Would you care to accompany me?"
"Sure. Have his people started to
report?"
"Yes, and I think it is a good idea that
we go down before they become too isolated."
"So are we gonna wave the flag or pee in
the corners?"
He looked at her in dismay. "You do say
the most appalling things sometimes." He seemed lost in thought for a
moment. "Why in the corners?"
"Just a figure of speech."
"A human one no doubt."
She nodded in mock defeat as the lift
deposited them on deck 9. The forward half of the deck was dedicated to
security and special forces. They saw a number of marines in the corridor. All
of them nodded politely as they went about their business.
Christine stopped for a moment to peek into
the physical training area. Several crewmen were training in hand to hand
combat. They were extremely skilled as they tried to force the other off
balance and into a mistake. Two other marines walked by with kendo swords.
Christine felt safer already. She also couldn't help but appreciate the work
that had gone into sculpting the bodies in this room.
"Christine?"
She turned back to Spock who was waiting for
her at the door to Kerr's office. "Coming. Sorry."
Kerr rose smartly as soon as they entered.
"Captain, Commander. I'm happy to see you down here."
Spock replied smoothly, "Your department
is critical to the success and safety of this ship. We would be most remiss to
not see your section as it comes together."
Kerr nodded. "And it is coming together
nicely. I appreciate the opportunity you gave me, letting me put together my
own team. Never had that luxury before. Always had to mold what I wanted out of
something that wasn't quite ready to become that. But this time, you'll have
the best security and special forces team in the fleet. I guarantee it."
Christine smiled. "I believe that. I was
just watching in the gym. Your men look ready for anything that's thrown at
them."
"I think they are, or they will be in a
few weeks. This type of mission can be very hard on morale for soldiers of this
temperament. Standing guard, working security shifts, and especially
peacekeeping wear on men and women used to action. So it is good that this ship
provides as many outlets as possible for them to work off some of that energy.
In addition to the gym there is a holo-reality room that allows the user to put
on a special uniform and become part of the action in a holoshow. It is a
technology still in its infancy but is already incredibly useful for
simulations and other training."
Kerr stopped in front of double doors and
spoke to the computer for access. The doors opened onto an extensive armory.
"Impressive." Christine looked
around in awe.
"Everything we could ever need seems to
be here."
He led them back out and down to the forward
end of the hall. A lounge similar to the one on the deck 3 was filled with
marines. The music was loud, poker games were in full swing, several billiards
tables and dart boards were in use, and some sort of game involving beer,
yelling, and metal discs was underway in the far corner. The closest marine
looked up, saw Christine and Spock and jumped to his feet yelling loud enough
for all to hear, "Captain on the deck."
Everything stopped as the entire lounge came
to order.
Wow, Christine thought. That's amazing. And
they didn't spill a single beer.
"As you were." The men relaxed at
Spock's voice. "My first officer and I wished to welcome you all aboard. I
trust you are finding the amenities sufficient." Good-humored laughter
erupted. Spock turned to Christine, silently indicating she should say
something.
She smiled as she looked at the various
games. "I can tell you that I'm a little jealous. All they've got on the
second floor is a very small dance floor."
Her words were met with immediate calls of
"You're always welcome here, Commander," and "Join us anytime,
Sir."
She laughed. "I just might." Word
traveled fast if they already knew to call her 'Sir.' She met Spock's gaze, saw
his approval of her breezy rapport.
Kerr was also smiling at her as they turned
toward the door. "You've just made some very important conquests,
Commander. If you actually show up to play they'll follow you into a
mutara-class nebula."
"I'll remember that, Colonel."
"We'll leave you to your evening,
Colonel. It was a pleasure touring your area." Spock motioned Christine
ahead of him and followed her out.
"Impressive group of soldiers." She
offered once they were in the lift.
"Yes. Their presence will be invaluable
to us." He led her to her quarters. "Christine would you mind if we
ate dinner in?"
"In?"
"In my quarters. Or yours. It has been a
long day. I do not particularly wish to spend more of it a crowded mess or
lounge."
"Ok. Give me a few minutes to
change?"
He walked to his door, called back,
"Come down whenever you are ready."
************************
She rang the chime and heard Spock's
invitation as the door opened. He had changed into a robe and stood at an
antique Vulcan beverage cabinet. He was pouring a dark liquid into two glasses.
"If that's what I think it is you are
going to make me one happy woman, Spock."
He handed her a glass. "It is a
Guinness. Since you introduced me to it I have enjoyed it several times. I made
sure that plenty was ordered for ship's stores."
"And they say Vulcans don't know how to
show a girl a good time." She took a long swallow. "I hope you put
the recipe in the replicator too." At his nod, she smiled and moved around
to sink into his couch. "This is a great couch. I want a couch like this.
My couch is awful compared to this." She stretched out and felt the cushions
envelope her. "Oh this is wonderful. Napping would be obscenely
comfortable on this." She sat back up and looked more closely at the
couch. "I didn't realize that Vulcans made furniture like this. It doesn't
have the ascetic lines I associate with Vulcan craftsmanship."
He sat across from her in a chair that sank
around him. "That's because it is not Vulcan. It's Deltan."
"You have Deltan furniture?" She
looked at him as he relaxed into the chair. "How do you meditate on
something this comfortable?"
"I don't. I use a meditation mat, or the
ritual bench. I relax on this furniture. And...sometimes nap."
"No. Spock? You nap? Why you're just
full of surprises."
He chose only to nod and drink his stout.
"Speaking of surprises, the crew already
has heard that launch has been moved up."
"Yes, Sovar asked me about it this
morning."
"I told the bridge crew. It's the new
target date so we might as well start planning for it."
"I'll send a shipwide comm out
tomorrow."
She sipped her drink. "Are you sorry you
won't be there, at the other event?"
"In a way. It is an historic occasion.
Perhaps more so than the launching of the Carter. I cannot decide."
"Hard to choose."
"It will be hard for him too. He is so
recently retired. It was I think easier for him when his ship was retired also.
But now to commission a new one. And then to invite him to the ceremony. I
think it will be difficult."
Christine smiled at Spock. "But he'll
never let on."
"No. He will persevere in the way only
he can."
"You miss him."
Spock nodded. "I do. So much of my life
has been intertwined with his. He was my closest friend."
"Was?"
He looked up at her in confusion.
"You said *was.*"
"I did?"
"Yeah."
He shook his head as his brow furrowed.
"Curious. I do not know why."
Christine laughed as she rose. "Well I
do. You're tired and you're hungry, Captain Spock. Let me cook you up something
wonderful." She walked to the replicator. "What do you want?"
"Order Vulcan meal number 4 variation
12."
"You really are scary, Spock," she
said as she placed his order. When it arrived she carried the tray over to him.
Then she returned and ordered a simple meal of soup and salad and carried it
back to the couch.
"Are you sick?"
She refused to rise to the bait.
"No."
"Perhaps I should call Dr. Carpenter?
I've never seen you eat so little."
She glared at him. "Knock it off, Spock,
or you're going to be wearing this soup."
"A frightening prospect," he
replied.
They finished their meal in silence. Spock
rose and took the trays to the recycler.
He opened another stout and poured some into
her glass before refilling his own. "Do you ever miss them?"
"Of course I do. I miss Len the most I
think. He was a surrogate doting father and terrible big brother all rolled
into one. But somehow, on this ship, it is hard to miss him or the others too
much." She searched for the right words. "We have a whole new crew of
eager young officers and experienced senior officers. All of whom want to be
here. We have a mission that has the potential to make a difference in the ways
we care about most. It's hard not to be excited about that."
"Eloquently stated. And the crew does
appear to be coming together. I noticed when I interrupted your staff meeting
that Lieutenant Saldusta seemed much less tense than before. What did you
do?"
Christine laughed. "Oh we just have an
understanding. I don't know how far I'll get with her on a personal level but I
think we can work together now without killing each other."
"A fortunate thing," he noted with
a twinkle in his otherwise tired eyes.
"Is Commander Troi still arriving
tomorrow?"
"He is. But Commander Penhallon will not b