"Chip, what is this?" asked Deborah Haddon. She stopped what she had been doing, which was rummaging around the third drawer from the top of Chip Masterson's Starfleet issued bureau, hunting for a place to put her change of clothes. She took an article out.
"Huh?" he asked. This was her first time staying over in his quarters overnight. His roommate, Aidan MacKenzie, was in Sick Bay for overnight observation, with an injury that even Dr. Phlox had said was likely not too serious. Chip and Deb both had the night off for the first time in months. It was the perfect time, and now he and Deb were finally alone. "Can't it wait?"
"You never told me you had a stuffed rat," she chuckled, showing him the article.
"Oh my God, you found Stella!"
"Stella? You name your toys, Chip?"
"Uh, no, um, Deb, nobody can know that I've got Stella. You gotta swear to me that you won't say anything, not even to Meredith."
"Why the hell would I wanna tell my roommate?" She came closer. "'Sides, I think it's cute. Is it that embarrassing?"
Behind her, a wall chronometer showed the date – April the twenty-fifth of 2160 – and the time – 2116 hours. "Uh, well," Chip stammered, "it's, uh, it's not embarrassment. See, I'm not supposed to have Stella."
"Is the stuffed rat stolen, or something?"
"She's a gerbil." He took Stella from Deb. "And, uh, she's borrowed – indefinitely."
"Chandler Masterson," Deb had her hands on her hips and looked every inch the Security Crewman that she was, "do you mean to inform me that you've committed petty larceny?" She lost her poker face, and started laughing at him.
"C'mon, I, uh, nobody can know I've got her. Seriously, I'm begging you, Deb."
"Bur Aidan knows, right?"
"Aidan is one of the last people who should be told," Chip insisted. He made his best puppy eyes at her. "Please?"
Deb peered at Chip more closely. "You're really serious about this."
"I am. Please, do not say a word. The captain'll have my hide."
"What's this all about? And I mean really."
"I, uh," he sighed, in part because he'd have to come clean with her, and in part because his plans for a romantic evening had been shot to hell.
"Chip," she sat down on his bed, "confession is good for the soul."
"Yeah, I suppose so."
"Besides," Deb reasoned, "if you tell me your deep, dark secret it'll, you know, it'll bring us closer." They kissed.
"I, er, I was kinda hoping we could get closer another way, Deb."
"Who says we can't do both? Now, spill."
"Okay," he sighed, and sat down next to her. "Here goes nothin'." He handed Stella back to her and began.
=/\=
There was a broadcast on the viewer with a caption giving the date – January fourteenth of 2149.
Vulcan Ambassador Soval spoke, "I am honored to announce a scientific and engineering competition to design a better system of inertial dampers for our starship program." Several people were shown on the screen as the camera panned back. "With me is the Starfleet team, led by Commander Jonathan Archer. With him are Charles Tucker III, Elizabeth Cutler, Judy Kelly, Aidan MacKenzie, Meredith Porter and Michael Rostov. I am also joined by Commander Aaron Gregory Robinson, who will be selecting the competing team. Commander Robinson?"
"Yes," Robinson had a marked accent, betraying Oklahoma roots. "I will be looking at not only engineers but also scientists and even people from other disciplines. This problem's been botherin' us for a while. But this'll be a six on six competition. There's a link on the screen where you can indicate your interest. Thanks."
=/\=
Deb interrupted, "Wait, hasn't Aidan always been in Tactical?"
"He has," Chip confirmed, "but the idea was to bring in people with all sorts of backgrounds. What they'd been doing wasn't working, so they wanted fresher perspectives."
"And that's you, too. Weren't you Tactical then, too?"
"Not yet," Chip said, "I took a while to find myself. Keep in mind, I was twenty years old then, and still at Brown, majoring in English. But I threw my hat in the ring anyway."
=/\=
It was almost February, and Chip found himself in the same room where the Ambassador's broadcast had originated. Commander Robinson stood in front of him and five other people. "I picked you all because I thought you'd be a good mix – three Engineering students, two engineers and one English major. Now, I know your names but you should introduce yourselves all the same. Ladies first."
"All right," the only woman in the room was a striking redhead. "My name is Jennifer Crossman. You can call me Jenny. I'm a sophomore at Worcester Polytechnic in Massachusetts."
Next to her, there was a really tall guy who was starting to lose his hair a bit. He said, "I'm José Torres. I'm an electrical engineer for the European Railway." He had a Portuguese accent.
Next was a shorter guy with darting eyes and a bit of a nervous way about him. "I'm Derek Kelby. I am a mechanical engineer for a firm in Oslo."
"Brooks Haynem," said the next guy, who was well-built. "I'm at Worcester with Jenny. WPI is the, uh, home of Gompei the Goat."
"The what?" asked José.
"There's a statue on the main campus," Jenny explained. "It's, uh, a bit of a weird crimson and grey tradition, all of that. You?" She faced Chip.
"I'm Chip Masterson; I'm the English major. I go to Brown."
"And last but not least ..?" asked Robinson, facing another short guy.
"I'm Josh Rosen. I'm in Starfleet Academy's Engineering program. I'm probably gonna go into ship design."
=/\=
Deb asked, "So Jenny was, what, eighteen?"
"Nineteen, I think. Josh was even younger. Kelby was already a stick in the mud, and Haynem hadn't figured out yet that he wanted to go into Security."
"Did Torres have any hair?"
Chip laughed at that. "A bit, but I think it was clinging for dear life."
=/\=
"Now," Robinson stated. "You all know why you're here. The other team is kinda similar, in that it's five engineers and one, uh, extra. That's a guy named MacKenzie, who's on our Tactical squad."
"Do they have specifications or any other advantages, sir?" asked Torres.
"It'll all be shared with you. And everybody can call me AG, all right? Listen," AG added, "if we win this thing, I bet you'll all be brought on by Starfleet, not just you, Rosen."
"Huh," Chip said, "I never thought about going into deep space. But what the hell, eh?" He clapped Kelby hard on the back and the other man looked daggers at him.
=/\=
"You all know your mission," Jonathan Archer said to the group of five in front of him. "I know we can win this."
"I heard one of theirs is an English major," Aidan snorted. He was classically tall, dark and handsome. Porter. Kelly and Cutler all looked at him as he spoke, hanging on his every word.
"Now, let's not get cocky," Tucker cautioned. "We'll mix with 'em at the 602 Club or somethin', and feel 'em out. But I don't think we got anything to worry 'bout."
"I don't need to remind you," added Archer, "that the pride of Starfleet is hanging on this. But no pressure!" He smiled. "The 602 Club sounds good. I'll tell AG to bring his team and meet us there tonight."
=/\=
The 602 Club was a lively place in Mill Valley that sold beer and shots and little else. Ruby Brannagh tended bar and greeted Archer and Tucker when they walked in with their team. "What'll it be?" she asked, leaning over and looking Archer in the eye.
"Something that won't give me a hangover," he yelled over the din of the place.
She poured from a tap and Michael Rostov came over to give her his order. Tucker leaned against the bar and motioned to Cutler. She leaned in, in order to hear him. "Now, Darlin', I think you should meet Stella."
"Stella? Is that your sister, or something?" asked the Science Crewman.
"No, my sister's name is Elizabeth, just like you. But Stella is, well, let's just say we have a special bond. I sleep with her ever' night."
Liz Cutler gave him a look. "Are you suggesting what I think you are?" She made a face and turned to the bar to order a lager.
"Whaddaya think I'm suggestin', Darlin'?"
"I shudder to think!" she yelled in the loud, crowded bar.
"Stella's not human!" Tucker yelled back.
"What the hell–?"
Tucker whipped out his PADD and thumbed through a series of photographs. "Uh, there. That's Stella." He showed her a picture of the stuffed gerbil.
"Aha! So you wanna share a bed with both of us?" Liz asked.
"Uh, um, yeah, that's what I had in mind."
She didn't get a chance to respond as Robinson arrived with his team.
.=/\=
"Wait, Chip, how do you know that part? You weren't there."
"I wasn't; that much is true. But Aidan was. Anyway, we got there."
"No, back up a sec. So it was Tucker and Cutler?"
"I don't think anything ever actually happened. I think it was a lotta posturing," Chip explained.
=/\=
There were whistles as Jenny walked in. Aidan immediately went over. "A goddess who can fix things, eh?"
She looked past him and went over to introduce herself to Judy, Meredith and Liz. "Thank God I'm not the only girl. Are you all getting hit on?"
"Just you," Meredith said. She was maybe ten years older than the others. "Anyway, I'd rather get out of here and get to work. This just feels like a lotta standing around."
"I think decorum requires that we stand around for at least an hour before we can vamoose," Liz opined.
They all had drinks. Jonathan said, "A toast! To the Warp Five Project! May we get some great inertial dampers out of this competition!"
"Uh, okay," Chip murmured, downing his beer and wondering why he was there.
=/\=
It was the next morning, and the teams had settled into separate work areas on different floors of the same building. "I think Ruby was, uh, incorrect when she said no hangover," Jonathan complained, holding his throbbing head in his hands.
"There ain't no truth in advertising," Tripp commiserated, looking over at Liz, who was avoiding him.
"We should get to work," Meredith suggested.
"Right," agreed Michael.
"Okay," Tucker said, "let's talk about the current state of affairs when it comes to inertial dampers."
=/\=
The Robinson team also met. "Let's get started," AG declared.
"What are they using now?" José inquired.
"My understanding," AG explained, "is that we're using, well, it hasn't changed much in a while. It's a rough ride at the best o' times."
"It looks like the system's mechanical," Derek opined.
"Really?" Chip inquired. "I mean, you'd think they'd have something really, I dunno, futuristic."
"Doesn't look that way," José explained, "instead it appears not to have changed much since, well, since Apollo days."
"Just what do inertial dampers do, anyway?" Chip asked Jenny.
"You volunteered for this, and you don't know?" she laughed.
"The long and the short of it is," AG explained, "they keep you from gettin' whacked against the nearest wall when a ship jumps to warp."
"Why don't people just wear seatbelts?" Chip asked.
Derek shook his head in some annoyance. Josh explained, "People are gonna live and work on the ship. They won't always be sitting down. You can't always warn everybody to grab a hold of something, or buckle up when you hit the gas."
"Yeah, I guess not," allowed Chip.
"But yanno," Jenny murmured, thinking out loud, "the idea that they should use something more futuristic, yeah, that's a good idea."
"Like what?" asked AG.
They all thought for a moment. "If the potential energy could be harnessed, maybe we could, uh," José mused, but then his voice trailed off.
"We could use it to power the dampers. Or maybe even use it as the dampers themselves," Derek added. "I mean, it's a restoration of force, right?"
"What?" inquired AG.
"See," Jenny explained, "there's energy loss all the time. I know Henry Archer's engine is as efficient as it can possibly be, but there's pretty much always room for improvement. So there are leaks, in a way."
=/\=
On Jonathan Archer's team, Meredith said, "The current system is lousy. It's a form of mobile padding – we use a colloidal substance."
"What's a colloidal substance?" Aidan inquired.
"It's kind of a mushy solid," Liz explained, "sorta like Jell-O."
"So it's edible?" Aidan asked.
"Not exactly," Tripp said, "although that would save on galley space, eh? Still, that'd be a lousy idea – eating the padding. You'd get full and then your ride would get really bumpy, and you'd lose it all."
"That's, uh, kind of what happened when the NX-Delta broke the Warp Three barrier," intimated Jonathan, "it's one of the many glamors of piloting a prototype starship that we don't tell anybody about. So, does anyone have any ideas for improvements? I don't care how strange they might sound. Let's just brainstorm. Maybe some of this Jell-O," he smiled, "will stick to the wall."
"A force field of some sort," Michael suggested.
"Maybe a harnessing of the inertia itself," Tripp offered.
"We could maybe make it a part of the warp containment field," Liz mused.
"Or maybe even build it into the system for polarizing the hull plating," Judy said.
=/\=
They had been going at it for hours, and it was late and everyone was tired. Chip had done his best to pay attention and keep up with things, but he could tell his questions were just slowing everyone else down. He approached AG, "Uh, why am I here?"
AG smiled at him. "There's gonna be a presentation at the end of all of this. You're gonna do that."
"So I need to understand the system, but they're gonna answer the questions, right?"
"Possibly. You might be on your own for the presentation, so you'll still need to pay attention."
"Got it. But right now, I mean, what am I supposed to do?"
"Do like me – 'cause God knows I'm no engineer, either – lead the cheerin' section."
Great, thought Chip as they finally finished up for the evening.
=/\=
The two teams sat across from each other at a long table in the Starfleet Headquarters Mess Hall. Chip found himself seated across from Aidan. "So, what kinda tinkering do you do?" he asked the guy who all of the women – except for Jenny – seemed to be openly ogling.
"Wha –? Oh, I'm the odd man out, just like you. I'm slated for Tactical work."
"Ah, got it. I suppose I'll open with a joke about Chaucer when I do the presentation."
"Chaucer?"
"Huh. Maybe a Carl Sagan joke for this crowd," Chip muttered.
"You catch the Ganymede Hunters game?" Michael asked Tripp.
"Yeah!" Tripp enthused. "Trent McCoy had a no-hitter goin' into the fifth."
The women on their team looked uninterested. "You gals got plans for later?" Chip inquired.
"We've got work to do," Meredith said, "and don't you?"
"You forget, he's the presentation guy," Liz reminded her.
"I bet you're bored," Judy opined.
"Nothing a little time with a honey won't cure," Chip smiled at her.
That got Michael's attention. "We've got work to do."
"Oh, uh, sorry," Chip glanced at them, trying to figure out if they were an item, or if it was just wishful thinking on Rostov's part.
"You shouldn't be thinking about that," Jenny scolded, "we've got our own stuff to do, yanno."
"Yeah," Chip allowed, "inertial dampers, the most gobsmackingly exciting thing, ever."
=/\=
"You hit on Judy Kelly?" Deb asked.
"I, uh, not exactly," he backpedaled a little, trying to salvage at least a little bit of the hoped-for romantic evening, "I was clearly underutilized. I figured it might be a good idea to, you know; take one of their engineers outta the project for a while."
"You were hitting on her!" Deb laughed. "Did you ever go out with her?" she turned suddenly serious.
"No, Babe. You're the only honey I've been with here on the NX-01."
"You're calling me a honey now? Chip, uh, you do realize I can overpower you in, like, seventeen different ways or so."
"Tell me more." He kissed her.
"You haven't gotten to the part about Stella yet."
"Damn."
=/\=
A few days elapsed. The solution seemed close for both teams, but it remained elusive. Chip and Aidan had both taken to getting up during many of the team sessions, and wandering around the area. They ran into each other on more than one occasion. They didn't ask each other how things were going, but Chip figured that, if he was seeing Aidan around the halls of Starfleet Headquarters, it meant that the other team had not yet formulated a workable solution.
=/\=
That Friday, the teams met again at dinner. Tripp said, "I'm gonna have a little get-together in my quarters tonight, at 2030 hours. Come on along if you want to see my place here at HQ."
"What about Robinson and Archer?" asked Josh.
"No squares," Tripp stated.
"Got it," said Brooks.
=/\=
The five of them walked over to Tucker's quarters together. Jenny was in a short skirt, high heels and a fire engine red off the shoulder top. José looked at her and said, "You are making it appear as if we can all attract someone like you."
"Huh? Oh, um, thanks." She truly didn't seem to think she looked too extraordinary.
Chip and Josh walked together, behind where she was walking with Brooks and José. "You think she's going out with Haynem?" Chip asked. "I mean, they are at WPI together."
"There's gotta be a few thousand other fellas there, too," Josh said, "You think Liz would, uh …?"
"I dunno, Sport. Eh, maybe we shouldn't split our focus. But I gotta figure that's one reason Robinson picked the Redheaded Bombshell there," Chip said, "Our secret weapon, eh?"
"She's smart," Josh stated.
"Well, yeah, that's for sure. But, man oh man, just," he sighed as he watched her walking in front of them, "she's outta everyone's league. Except, I guess, for MacKenzie."
"I heard she shot him down."
"Oh, really?"
=/\=
The party was a lively kegger, ear-splittingly loud music blasting through the stereo system in a small living room. Tucker was decked out in a Hawaiian shirt and had already had a couple – that was obvious when he opened the door. "Hey! How's much favorite engineer? And, uh, her four sidekicks?" He leaned over and kissed Jenny on the cheek. "Darlin', you're lookin' rather fine."
"Oh, um, thanks."
Judy and Liz were standing over by the keg, watching Michael tapping it. "Here," he gave Judy a cup of the beer. Jenny came over and he just stared.
"Um, could I have some?" the redhead asked.
"Uh, uh, sure." Tongue-tied, he fumbled for a cup from the stack and knocked the stack over as Judy glared at him.
Chip wandered around and found Aidan. "This ratio is lousy. Don't you guys know any other women?" he yelled over the din.
"Hey, nobody told Robinson to stack the deck five to one. Crossman's smokin', though. That makes up for a lotta sins."
"I think you got sin on your mind, man," Chip said.
"I'm sure everybody else does, too. Except for Porter. I don't even know why she came here. She looks like a wet blanket if I ever saw one."
"We should pair her up with Kelby," Chip suggested. "They can bond over disapproving of everything."
"I'll go over and suggest it," Aidan grinned and walked over toward Meredith.
Chip wandered around a little, looking at some of Tucker's possessions. He had framed family photographs on his desk and there was a small figurine of Frankenstein, prominent among a ton of other horror memorabilia. There were some paper books, including Gulliver's Travels. There was an old-fashioned shined diving helmet. And there, on Tripp Tucker's bed, there was a stuffed animal.
He picked up the toy.
=/\=
"Ah, so you met Stella," Deb said.
"Yep."
=/\=
Tucker came over. "That's, that's Stella. She's, she's been ever'where." Tripp's Florida Panhandle accent was pronounced in his inebriation.
"Everywhere?" asked Chip.
"Yeah. She's gone on all of the real big flights. Archer took her when he broke Warp Two. And she was on the NX-Delta when it broke Warp Three. She'll be on the first Warp Five ship, if I got anythin' to say 'bout it."
"Got it. So this rat has been to Neptune and back?"
"She is not, she is, she is not a rat," Tucker slurred a little, "she is a gerbil. Please, the little darlin' is kinda sensitive 'bout that."
"So she's been where no gerbil's gone before?" Chip quipped.
"Let's not get vulgar, man," Tripp leaned on Chip heavily, his breath reeking of beer, "the honeys get scared when you talk 'bout gerbils and, and space exploration, yanno."
"I'll keep that in mind."
=/\=
The following morning, it seemed like everyone had a hangover except for Meredith and Derek, who were … somewhere.
Chip wasn't immune to the effects of the booze but he got up anyway, even though it was Saturday and he really didn't have to. As usual, he wandered around Starfleet Headquarters.
There were MACOs on a tour of the facility, under the command of a huge fellow with hair combed straight back who looked like he was maybe in his late forties. Civilians, too, were in the area, as was a clutch of Vulcans. One was a rather good-looking woman – certainly as attractive as Jennifer – once you got past her bowl haircut and seemingly perpetual scowl.
=/\=
"You saw T'Pol there?"
"Yep, and the late Major Hayes, although I didn't realize it at the time," he confirmed.
"Small universe, eh?"
=/\=
Chip found himself going back in the direction of where the party had been held. He hadn't seen Tripp, and wondered if the fellow in the loud Hawaiian shirt was okay.
The door was open when he got there, and the rooms were in disarray. There was a littering of plastic cups, some with traces of beer in them, plus a ton of oily pizza boxes. It was all the detritus of a blowout evening. "Looks like you had even more fun after we all left," Chip murmured.
The rooms were deserted – Tucker wasn't even passed out in one of them. "I guess you really had fun, then." He glanced around the little living room and picked up one of the pizza boxes. He about jumped out of his skin when he saw something under it.
Then he noticed the thing was not moving. He picked it up. Stella.
=/\=
"So that's how you got Stella."
"Well, there's more."
=/\=
That Monday, Tripp Tucker staggered to the meeting of his team. "Uh, sorry I'm late," he mumbled. Liz shot him a look, as did Jonathan Archer.
"Now I know," said Archer, "that there was a party over the weekend. It doesn't matter to me what any of you do with your private lives, so long as you don't let it affect your work."
"Uh, sorry, I won't let it happen again." He held his own head. Tucker was nursing a rather severe hangover.
"Let's talk about the force field idea," Meredith suggested. "I think we could do something with the inertia itself."
"Yeah, maybe it could be reflected back on itself," Michael agreed.
"How would you do that?" asked Jonathan.
"We might be able to do something with the colloidal suspension," suggested Liz.
"I thought we were scrapping that outright," Judy pointed out.
"I dunno. Maybe we don't have to," replied Meredith.
They went on for hours, back and forth. Finally, Jonathan commented, "Tripp, you've been quiet."
"Uh, sorry, I, uh, sorry." He didn't seem to be in much of a condition to participate, even after downing numerous cups of bad coffee.
"Aidan," Jonathan commanded, "get Tripp here to the infirmary."
"I don't think I need that. Just, just a good night's sleep is all. And I'm still sorry. The weekend just caught up with me."
"Let's not have any repeat performances of this," Archer cautioned.
"Understood." Tripp left with Aidan.
=/\=
They got to Tucker's quarters, and the door was still ajar. "Huh," Tripp commented.
"Did you leave it that way?" Aidan asked, tactical training kicking in.
"Yeah, I probably did. I was kinda out of it when I headed to the 602 Club and, uh, Ruby Brannagh's sweet favors."
"Ah, I see. For the whole weekend?"
"Oh, yeah," Tripp confirmed. He smiled a little, but winced again as his headache had never really gone away.
They walked in and the place was a godawful mess, just as it had been left, save for the extraction of one small article.
"I, uh, I better get back," Aidan said, "although God knows what I can contribute until it's time for the presentation."
"Tell 'em, uh," Tucker thought for a moment, "tell 'em that the inertia idea – the one where it's reflected back on itself – it's a good one. But we don't need the colloid at all. The hull can absorb most of it, I'm thinkin'. I'll, uh, I'll do the calculations later."
"Thanks. Need any help with anything?"
"Nah," Tripp said, kicking off his shoes. "I fired the housekeeper, yanno," he joked. "But I'll be fine."
Aidan turned to leave as Tripp went to the back, to his sleeping area. He began rummaging around. "Dammit, where is she?"
"Who?" Aidan was uncomprehending.
"She's, she's usually in the bedroom, or, or on top of the stereo."
"Who? What?"
Tripp returned and looked at him. "It was that other team, I am sure of it."
"What? What did they do?"
"They kidnapped her!"
"What?"
Tripp Tucker did not answer Aidan. He just stood in the center of his small living room, amidst the old pizza boxes and the littered cups with their traces of stale beer. He looked at the ceiling and raised his arms above him, pleading, and bellowed one word.
"STELLA!"
18