| Matters of Prespective -- Part Two
As it turned out, Jo was able to squeeze a bit more speed out of the engines and the Paige made it to the Kalimarian system an hour ahead of schedule. They dropped out of warp just outside the system and began the braking process as they headed toward the planet. Only one real obstacle stood between them and Kalimar Prime. The remains of a disrupted planet formed a wide ring between the fourth and fifth planets of the system. They would have to go through it to get to their destination. Kylye spoke up. "Sir. Five minutes to debris field."
"Understood." Harry turned to look at Regina. "How are your weapons skills, Pips?"
She kept her face expressionless, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction to his gibe. "I haven't missed yet, sir."
"Good. Take the tactical station then. Our deflectors can handle anything up to ten tons. You see anything incoming over that mass, blast it."
"Aye, sir." She made her way to the indicated station. A quick inventory of the firepower under her control made her gasp. This supposed tug was armed as well as, or better, than any heavy frigate in the fleet. Who the hell would arm a tow vessel this heavily?
"Debris field limit in two-point-five minutes, sir."
Time enough to answer the question later. She activated the collimator phasers and quickly configured the sensors. Everything was prepared. "Ready, sir."
"Debris field in 45 seconds."
"Sound collision alert." Klaxons went off throughout the ship. "All hands. Prepare for possible collision."
"Debris field in twenty seconds." Regina could see objects on her screens approaching rapidly.
"Debris field in ten... eight... five... four... three... two... one..." WHUMP! The Paige shuddered slightly and Regina suddenly had her hands full. She scanned the tactical screens just as she had done during field exercises in her Academy days. Incoming object, mass seven tons. WHUMP! Incoming, mass four tons. WHUMP! Incoming, twelve tons. She let her hands dance across the console in front of her, targeting and firing the phasers smoothly. The object disappeared from her screen and she continued scanning. She caught a group five 20-ton objects coming in together. She made quick work of them with the phasers. Incoming, nine tons. WHUMP! Incoming, ten tons. That one was right on the border, best be safe and get rid of it. The phaser beams lanced out again and that rock vanished.
The next several minutes continued in the same fashion, the Paige shuddering from impacts as she bulled her way through the debris field and Regina using the phasers like a knife to carve away rocks too big for the shields to handle. She was so focused on the job at hand that Kylye's voice came as a shock. "We're in the clear, sir."
"Excellent. Good shooting, Pips."
Regina turned around to find Harry smiling approvingly at her. "Thank you." She went about the business of locking down the tactical station without another word and returned to the comm station. It wasn't long before the globe of Kalimar itself came into view. "Comm. See if you can raise the Hadrian."
"Aye, sir. USS Mitchell Paige to USS Hadrian, we are ready to deploy our cargo." There was no answer for a moment, then Regina's earpiece came to life. She turned to Harry. "Sir. I'm getting a reply from the Hadrian."
"On screen, Comm."
"On screen, sir." Regina switched the transmission over to the bridge's main viewscreen. The view of Kalimar and space beyond was replaced with a scene of the Hadrian's bridge, sleek, spacious, and state-of-the-art. A petite, wheaten haired woman wearing Captain's pips occupied the center seat. Suddenly reminded of just how cramped and old-fashioned the Paige's bridge must appear, Regina wanted to crawl under her console. She hadn't really looked lately, but Harry's uniform was probably rumpled to boot. She straightened her back instead and assumed the most professional appearance she could muster.
Evidently, the transmission had also appeared on the Hadrian's screen for the small woman smiled warmly. "Captain Gwenith Ap Owen of the USS Hadrian. Welcome to Kalimar. You're a welcome sight, Mitchell Paige."
Harry smiled back. "Glad to be of assistance. Captain Harry Roberts at your service. Where do you want us to park the pods."
"Deploy them 1,000 meters directly astern of us, please. Once you've got the pods in place, you can put yourselves on station until we get this problem under control. I'm afraid you'll have to entertain yourselves for the time being, Captain. I don't believe it would be a good idea to schedule shore leave for your crew right now and the Hadrian is infected as well so I can't even offer you the chance to sample our hospitality."
"Understood. I think we'll survive without a vacation for now. If you'll excuse us, we'll get about the job at hand."
"Thank you, Captain. Hadrian out." The viewscreen shifted back to the original scene.
Harry keyed his intercom. "Bridge to tow crew. Prepare to deploy cargo."
"Aye, sir."
"Helm. Bring us into line with the Hadrian and match speeds."
"Aye, sir." The Paige began to lose speed and anyone on the bridge with a drink picked up their cups. The ship saluted the arrival of one-quarter impulse speed three times before she was in position directly astern of the Hadrian. Zaru made one final adjustment of the helm to match speeds with the larger ship then locked them into formation with the tractor beams. "In position, sir. We are ready to deploy."
"Bridge to tow crew. Deploy cargo."
"Aye, sir." The Paige was rock steady as the tow pads were disconnected. "Cargo deployed, sir."
"Thanks, Chief. Helm. Move us on station."
"Aye, sir." Zaru released the tractors and inched the ship away from the Hadrian and the pods. Once clear, she moved off briskly to take up her assigned position. "On station, sir."
Harry sat back and stretched. "That's it until further notice. We stay here unless we're needed to run errands or 'til the Hadrian tells us they don't need us anymore." He checked the time. His shift was almost over.
"I relieve you, Harry." Harry looked up with a start to see F'dar standing beside him.
"Good timing! I was just thinking about you." Harry rose and headed for the bridge door. He would be passing Sick Bay on his way to the wardroom and if he was going to talk to Doc there was no time like the present.
Per Doc's instructions, Harry reported to Sick Bay right after dinner. Doc was waiting for him together with a framework that looked like something out of the Spanish Inquisition. Harry stretched out on one of the beds and waited patiently while Doc strapped him into the framework. Once he had Harry ensconced and properly positioned, Doc stepped back and activated the scanner.
Immobile, Harry eyed Doc as best he could with his head tilted back at such an uncomfortable angle. "Isn't there..." He winced as the scanner began the slow process of sweeping his lungs and throat clear of tobacco residue. It felt like insects crawling around inside his windpipe. He coughed. "You'd think they'd have come up with a better way of doing this by now, Doc."
"You wouldn't have to keep going through all this if you would just give up those noxious sticks of yours."
"Yes, I know. I happen to like those 'noxious sticks'." He coughed again.
"As you please, Harry. At least you're kind enough not to inflict the fumes on anyone else.
"I'd probably have a mutiny on my hands if the entire crew had to go through this."
"I believe you're right." Doc checked the settings of the scanner. "I have other things that need my attention right now. I'll check back on you in a few minutes." He vanished from Harry's view leaving him to suffer by himself.
Harry lay there for the next 45 minutes while the scanner did its unpleasant work. Doc frequently popped in and out of sight to check the scanner settings and that Harry was still alive, but his presence was small comfort. Harry knew better than to complain too much. The first time he had voiced his displeasure at the process, an unsympathetic Doc had sat him down to a long lecture on the 'Effects of Tobacco on the Human Body' immediately following the treatment when all Harry wanted to do was go to bed. He wondered if Doc deliberately made the process unpleasant as a discouragement. Finally, Doc turned off the scanner and freed Harry from his prison. "You're all clear again, Harry. Go get some rest."
"Thanks, Doc." Harry was tempted to just curl up on the bed he was occupying. Going back to his quarters sounded like more work than it was worth, but to stay here would give Doc another opportunity to lecture him on the error of his ways. He levered himself off the bed and headed for his quarters. Once there, he dropped his uniform on the floor, crawled into bed, and was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Regina was having a late dinner in the almost empty wardroom. A workout following her shift had put her in a mellow mood. She was halfway through her meal when Jo approached her. "Mind if I sit here?"
Regina shook her head and waved to the seat opposite her. Jo settled herself with a sigh. "Thanks, I hate eating solo. Ready for your stint in engineering tomorrow?"
"Certainly. Do you mind answering a question for me?"
"Go ahead."
"Why is this ship armed as heavily as she is? From what I could see in the short amount of time I spent in Tactical today, she's got to have as much firepower as a heavy frigate."
Jo laughed. "That's because she *is* a heavy frigate."
"I thought she was a tug."
"That too. The Paige, as she was originally built, is a heavy frigate. She was later equipped during the Klingon Tensions as a tug that could haul crippled ships out of the line of battle without waiting for the battle to stop. She never got used for the original intended purpose, but she's still perfectly capable of taking fire or dishing it out as necessary. Which reminds me, I heard you're pretty good with ship's phasers."
"Thanks. How did you find out?"
"Harry stopped by earlier on his way to dinner. He mentioned that he was impressed with the way you handled Tactical."
Regina looked at Jo as if she'd just told her that gravity worked sideways. "He did? I didn't think the man got impressed by anything."
"Harry doesn't care about bells and whistles or fancy titles. He cares about results." Jo smiled. "Want to see him looking like a proud Papa? Pull off an efficient cargo transfer in tight quarters or deliver the cargo ahead of schedule when there's no time to spare."
"How long have you served with him?"
"Almost fifteen years now and I can tell you that if anyone knows the Paige inside, outside, and upside down Harry does. I think he's filled every station to be had on this ship except for Captain's Woman and Chief Medical Officer, so if he says you're good with the phasers, you're good."
Regina regarded her empty plate and stood. "If you'll excuse me. I'd like to do some stargazing before I turn in."
Jo nodded. "Enjoy. See you in the morning."
Regina disposed of her tray and headed for the lounge. She arrived to find it almost as empty as the wardroom. Doc Varta was there. He had an easel and canvas set up in front of big window and was applying paint to the canvas with intense concentration. Regina took a seat off to the side where she could see both his canvas and the scene he was painting and watched him work in fascinated silence. He was painting Kalimar backlit by their sun. He had caught the light effects so well that his painting seemed to almost glow. Obviously, he was working on the finishing touches.
Doc paused in thought and suddenly realized he was being watched. He turned around and smiled at Regina. "I didn't realize I had an audience. What do you think." His rich baritone voice was like music to her ears.
"It's lovely. Please don't let me interrupt you."
"Thank you. You're not." He turned back to contemplate the view again.
As time passed, Regina found herself paying more attention to Doc than to what he was doing. She'd heard of people with olive complexions before, but Doc was the most striking example she'd ever seen. He didn't so much have an olive complexion as he did skin the color of a green olive. Her gaze went from his face to his hands. They were strong hands with long, sensitive fingers. An artist's fingers. As she watched him work, Regina realized she was becoming uncomfortable. A surge of something she would have called desire under other circumstances hit her like a physical blow. She felt a bit lightheaded and short of breath. Desire? For Doc? It was a rediculous idea considering how little she knew him. She couldn't smell anything, but paint fumes were probably affecting her. Best find some clearer air. She rose to leave and stumbled slightly. Doc was at her side in an instant. "Are you feeling all right?" She could feel his strong arms supporting her. The lightheadedness felt worse and she found it hard to frame a coherent answer to his question. She had to fight the urge to snuggle into his broad chest.
"I'm...um...just a bit dizzy."
Doc steered her to a chair and got her into it. "Sit down. Your face is flushed. Have you felt this way before?" His hands gently felt her forehead and face then moved down to palpate her neck and throat. Her body tingling, Regina suddenly had the absurd wish that his hands would work their way a little lower.
He felt for her pulse, watched her breathe, then looked into her eyes. Regina found herself caught by the gaze. His eyes were emerald green. She realized he was speaking to her. "Have you felt this way before?"
"Um " She struggled to get her brain to yield understandable words. "No...yes...not precisely."
He pulled another chair over and propped her feet up on it. "Your pulse and respiration are elevated and you feel very warm." He went over and looked out the door into the recdeck. Evidently, there was someone there because he called out. "A moment please, Angela. Regina is in distress and I need to get a scanner. Will you please wait with her until I get back?"
Angela came in and took a seat beside Regina. "Sure thing, Doc."
"Thank you." Doc hurried out the door.
A few minutes after Doc was gone, Regina found her head was clearing and her breathing dropping to a more normal rate. She looked at Angela. "I'm feeling a lot better. I probably just need to get out of the paint fumes."
"What paint fumes?" Angela sniffed.
"Doc was painting and the longer I sat here, the weirder I felt."
Angela smiled knowingly. "And now that Doc's left the room, you're feeling better?"
"Yes."
"Wait 'til Doc scans you to make sure, but I don't think paint fumes had anything to do with it." Angela paused and Regina motioned her to continue. "It sounds to me like Doc is having his usual effect on the female of the species."
"Huh?"
"Pheromones, honey. Doc's a Green Orion and he's every bit as attractive to females as the women of his kind are attractive to males."
"You mean..."
"Yep. Unless I miss my guess, you have just suffered through an attack of severe lust."
"It couldn't be. I hardly know the man!"
"What better way to get acquainted? I can tell you from personal experience that your body doesn't care about your level of knowledge right now. It's working on its own agenda." She caught Regina's startled look and chuckled. "Don't worry. Doc is a professional. He considers taking advantage of his unique 'talent' a breach of ethics."
Regina gulped. "Is this going to happen every time I spend more than a minute or two around him?"
"They say familiarity breeds contempt and in this case it's true. Once you've been on board the Paige for a while he won't affect you nearly as much. You'll still find him attractive, but you won't find it overwhelming."
Doc came hurrying back with his portable scanner. Angela grinned at him. "I'm no expert, Doc, but I think the cause of distress in this case is your own, wonderful self."
He grimaced. "Let's make sure that's all it was." He ran the scanner over Regina. "Pulse and respiration back to normal. Temperature normal. No sign of any pathogen or toxin. Did you start feeling better shortly after I left the room?"
Regina blushed. "Yes, I did."
"Then I have to conclude that *I* am the culprit in this case. My apologies, but it isn't something I can really do anything about, other than to assure you that the effect will fade in time."
"I have to say, Doc, that you're the first Green Orion *male* I've ever seen either in pictures or in person. I have seen a few pictures of females. For some reason, it never occurred to me that there *were* any males."
Doc smiled. "A common misconception. As you can see, we do exist. Otherwise, there would not be any *more* Green Orions. However, most of my fellows are quite content to stay planetbound."
Regina stood helped by both Angela and Doc. "Thank you, both. I think I've had enough adventures for one evening." She heard Doc return to his painting as she preceded Angela out the door.
Harry slowly realized that his shoulder was being shaken and someone was calling his name. He opened his eyes with great effort and focused on Klaus' face. "Huh?"
"Good morning, Harry. You missed your regular wake up call and you're on duty in half an hour." He indicated a tray on the desk. "I brought you breakfast."
"Thanks." Harry levered himself out of bed, his body complaining about having to go to such Herculean effort. There was a glass of orange juice on the tray. Good. That was just the thing to drive the dead hamster out of his mouth. The aftereffects of pulmonary sweeps were almost as bad as hangovers, only not as much fun to obtain. He gulped at the juice gratefully then set to packing away the food. By the time he finished Klaus had a new uniform laid out for him. Harry picked it up and stared. This was not his uniform. This was the same style of uniform that Captain Ap Owen had been wearing, complete with collar pips. "KLAUS!"
His yeoman looked up from corralling the breakfast dishes. "What's wrong, Harry?"
Harry held up the offending garment. "Where did you get this uniform?"
"From the replicator, the same way everyone else does. Why?"
"You don't notice anything different about it?"
"Yes. It's newer and has pips. What's the problem?"
"It's not mine."
"Of course not. It won't be yours until you actually wear it. However, it's your size and the style and pips are all correct for your rank. So I repeat, what's the problem?"
"I *like* my old uniform."
"Well, maybe there's something wrong with the replicator. Did your breakfast taste odd?"
"No. Well, whatever it is, there's no time to get it fixed right now. Where's the uniform I wore yesterday?"
"Over there. I was just going to dispose of it."
"Give it here, I'll wear it again today." Harry snatched the uniform from Klaus' grip.
"You're going to wear a dirty uniform?"
"This ship has a laundry, doesn't it? Or has Jo replaced it with something else?"
"Last I looked, the laundry was still there."
Harry handed the uniform back. "Well then, launder it!"
Klaus shrugged. "OK, Harry. I'll be back in a few." He was shaking his head in disbelief as he went through the door. Fortunately, the laundry equipment worked quickly and Klaus was back with the uniform with time to spare. Harry had already disposed of the new uniform and was waiting impatiently for the return of the old one. He grabbed it and pulled it on, shoved a half smoked cigar into his mouth and headed for the bridge, grumbling.
Regina was getting to know Engineering up close and personal. Unlike the spacious engineering areas of the previous ships she had served on, Engineering on the Paige was cramped. The huge intermix chamber dominating the scene left little room for anything else. What space that was left over was crowded with a hodge podge of equipment, some of which were too old to be instantly recognizable. As a result, amenities such as walkways had gotten the short end of the deal and only grudgingly been included. She had already learned to hug the intermix chamber when passing someone.
So far the morning had been fascinating. It seemed to Regina that someone had tossed a conglomeration of starship parts into the air and they had landed in the current configuration. The fascinating part was that everything seemed to work, and work well. At the moment she was assisting Jo in wiring in a new power shunt. Everything in place, Jo stepped back and admired their handiwork. "That should do it." She picked up the panel that she had taken off to do the work and started to walk away.
Regina regarded the exposed wiring and stopped her. "Shouldn't we put the panel back?"
"Not this time. If we put the panel back, the cross wiring will build up too much heat and fail. Nothing's dangling so it'll be fine. The panel can be stored and used somewhere else later." She moved off. Regina followed her after shooting the wires another suspicious look.
The intercom beeped for attention. "Bridge to Engineering."
"Engineering. This is Jo."
"Jo. Will you take a look at the replicators for me?"
"Sure, Harry. What's wrong with them?"
"Did you get a new uniform from it this morning?"
"No. The one I wore yesterday was still pretty fresh. Why?"
"I requested a new uniform this morning and got something different...so did several other people."
Jo cocked an eyebrow. "OK, Harry. I'll check it out."
"Thanks. Bridge out."
She turned to Regina. "One more thing to do today. Oh well, we can do it after we take care of the transporter pad." She headed for the Transporter Room with Regina on her heels.
On the way there they passed several of the crew who were wearing up to date uniforms, including the collar pips. Regina took note of the fact and glanced at Jo. If the woman had noticed she gave no sign. Regina heaved a contented sigh. She would have a proper uniform in the morning. By the time they reached the Transporter Room Regina realized that everyone she had seen with pips had been a Lieutenant. No doubt the other ranks would become visible as the entire crew eventually donned new uniforms.
The Transporter Chief noticed them as soon as they came through the door. "Good morning. I take it you've come to see about the funny noise?"
"That we have, Chief. Show me which pad seems to be making the noise." The Chief pointed and Jo and Regina set to work.
An hour later they set the top transporter terminus back in place with sealant and started on the bottom one. They had just gotten the thing apart when Regina thought she felt a feather touch on her head. Probably a pin in one of the underlayers of her hairdo was shifting. She decided to check it during lunch and turned back to the task at hand.
Long minutes later, they finally got the bottom terminus back in place and exchanged glances. Jo sighed. "I could go for some lunch. How about you?"
Regina suddenly became aware of just how long it had been since she'd last eaten. "Let's go. I'm starving."
"After you."
Regina started for the door with Jo a step behind. Her head itched and she put her hand to the back of her head to scratch it. Her fingers encountered something hard and unyielding. She stopped abruptly. Jo managed to avoid running into her. "What's wrong?"
"There's something in my hair."
Jo looked closely. "Well, I've got some good news and some bad news. The good news is your hair will never move again. The bad news is your hair will never move again."
"WHAT?"
"You've gotten sealant in your hair and it's cured." She tried to gently pry the mass off Regina's head. Regina yelped as the hair was pulled painfully. "Nope. The only way you're going to get rid of the stuff is to cut it out." She answered Regina's appalled look with a touch on her own hair. "Why do you think I keep my hair this way? I got tired at things dripping on it and catching on it, so I clipped it short. Come on. Let's eat, then I'll see how much of it I can salvage for you." She took Regina's elbow and steered her toward the wardroom.
Jo started working on an anxious Regina's hair right after lunch. True to her word, she was attempting to leave as much hair as possible attached to the scalp by clipping very carefully with a tiny pair of scissors. Long minutes passed with the silence being broken only by the 'snip' of the blades. Finally, Regina heard a satisfied "Got it!" from behind her. She turned around to see Jo with her scissors in one hand and something that resembled a large tarantula in the other. Regina realized with a sinking feeling that the 'tarantula' was the mass of sealant impregnated hair. "How does it look?"
Jo handed her a mirror and held another behind her so she could see the back of her head. Regina grimaced as she regarded the ruin of her painstakingly executed hairdo. Jo went to work pulling all the pins out of the rest of her hair and measuring the overall length by eye. "Don't despair. I haven't evened everything up yet." She pulled out a comb and a larger pair of scissors and set to work.
Jo snipped away for what seemed like an eternity and Regina suppressed the urge to shriek as the pile of hair around her feet grew. At this rate, Jo was apparently planning on shaving her bald and painting designs on her scalp. Finally, Jo put down her implements of destruction and regarded her victim with satisfaction. "Finis!... And not a bad looking job if I do say so myself. Here, have a look." She handed Regina the mirror again.
Regina stared at the stranger in the mirror. Her waist length hair was gone, replaced with a pert style that ended at her jaw line. It was a neat style, but far too short for her to put up. She might as well throw away her hairpins. She sighed. "It's different."
"It suits you."
"Do you really think so?"
"Yes, I do. I think you'll like it once you get used to it. Be happy I was able to save any of it. The last time I got sealant in my hair I had to go around looking like a billiard ball. Fortunately, my hair grows pretty fast so my head wasn't cold for long." Jo stowed her barbering tools and picked up ones more suited to starship repair."
"What's next?"
Jo consulted her PADD. "Next thing on the list is the replicators. From what I can see they seem to be working perfectly so it's probably something in Neebish's area of expertise, but we can run some diagnostics just in case." The two of them headed back to Engineering.
A couple of hours later, they had run a complete set of diagnostic tests on the Paige's replicators. If not precisely nominal, all results were well within tolerance. Jo took a moment to review them then keyed the intercom. "Engineering to Bridge."
"Bridge. Harry here."
"We've got some good news, Harry. There's nothing wrong with the replicators. All test results look normal."
"WHAT?"
"I said, all test results are normal. We ran through a full set of diagnostics and everything looks just fine."
"Then how do you explain the uniforms?"
"I would say it's probably a change in one of the programs. Remember the last time something like this happened? Neebish was able to fix it, but we ended up losing the collar pip part of the program. Maybe he's been working on it and was finally able to recover the whole thing."
There was no immediate reply to her words, but Jo could hear quiet grumbles. "What was that, Harry?"
"Nothing. I'll go see Neebish right after I get off duty. Bridge out." The intercom went silent.
Jo chuckled and shook her head "You're welcome, Harry." She motioned to Regina. "Come on. We've got time for one more repair before shift end."
Continued in Part Three
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The Above is a work of fiction. All characters are fictional, any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.
Copyright Susan & Garry Stahl: June 2001. All rights reserved, re-print only with permission.
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