Out Damn Spot!
Belen09
In this AU – between Starfleet Academy and Section 31 – Malcolm Reed served in a Security Control Center . . . (SCC Series)
Coming into the facility from a day off, Ensign Malcolm Reed was met by Ensign John Hoffman, who called out, "Watch out! Henderson's on the warpath! She'll have your head if you're not careful." "What happened?" Malcolm thought he'd better have an idea of the problem so he could 'duck' angering the lieutenant commander.
"Oh, you'll see. She's making sure everyone 'sees'." Hoffman's laugh had a bit of an edge to it. "And make sure that you don't have any food or drink in the control room!" Malcolm repeated his question. "What happened?"
Reed walked into the Security Office and found a memo, with a note at the top in large letters – 'READ AND SIGN – NO EXCEPTIONS!' It was an order from Lieutenant Commander Henderson forbidding the consumption of any food or drink (except water – in approved containers) in the control room. Well, since this was Standard Operating Procedure, Malcolm wasn't particularly surprised. Signed the damn thing to get it out of his mind. (Also signed it so he wouldn't have to read it again. It was a 'typical Henderson memo' – totally unbelievable that she actually attended, not to mention passed a writing class.)
Proceeded into the Security Control Center. Using his finely tuned senses spotted an orange traffic cone sitting on the carpet. Walked over and looked at the floor. There seemed to be a smudge or stain of unknown origin. Sat down at his post.
His partner tonight was Ensign Hans Hausmann, a friendly German who was willing to talk about military history. (Actually so would Hoffman; it was only Ensign La Croix who wouldn't humor Reed about his fondness for tactics.)
Hoped the culprit wasn't Hausmann, though Malcolm had his suspicions – ever since his friend took that sausage sandwich out of his jacket and was 'munching' on it. Looked at the unwrapped food, and said, "How long has that been in your coat?" "Only a couple of days. Do you want some?" "No, thank you." Malcolm replied politely but with a grimace. 'Well, the man was never sick . . .'
La Croix was sitting at the other side of the room. "Hey, there's 'pass-down orders' from Henderson. She wants whoever caused that spot on the carpet to report to her, or she will punish everyone in the unit." "Figures." Malcolm was not impressed with the logic of the situation. "Why doesn't she just have the 'spot' cleaned up and forget about it? It's not an earth-shattering event."
"Oh, no! According to her it's a challenge to her authority. She said that 'whoever did it' should be removed from the unit, demerits, 'the whole nine yards, etc., etc.'" La Croix did his usual sarcastic smirk. "Even gave orders to the cleaning crew not 'to touch it'."
Malcolm sighed. "Lovely." And began to work.
The next two weeks were marvelous, Orange Traffic Cone stood 'post' over the spot making sure that nothing untoward happened to it. The theories about what caused it ran the gambit from some kind of hand lotion innocently spilled to Malcolm and his fellow officers suggesting that a DNA test be done on it. At any rate it was seriously looking like a permanent addition to the unit when Ensign Carter came in early one morning before relieving the night shift.
Ensign Carter was a no-nonsense woman who had worked as a police officer before joining Starfleet, and wasn't inclined to reward incompetence. She had a bottle of 'Spot Out', and a rag in her hand. Applied the chemical to the spot, rubbed it in, and no more spot. Looked at the four fellow officers as if they had better not seen anything. Left Orange Traffic Cone though.
Hoffman said to no one in particular, "I wonder when day shift is coming in?"
Malcolm replied, "Won't be for another half an hour. Yes, another half hour."