Disclaimer: Again, I don't own any of these characters except Cassie and her family, the rest are owned by Paramount.
Chapter 2
When Malcolm entered the armory the next day, he found that Cassandra had beaten him there. She had unzipped the top half of her uniform and knotted the sleeves around her waist, leaving her upper half clad only in the tight black, sleeveless undershirt that was worn under the uniform, and Malcolm couldn't help admiring the graceful curves of her back and shoulders. She had her back to the door, a phase pistol in her hands, and was concentrating on a target at the other end of the room. Several PADDs were on the workstation next to her, and she appeared to have been in the armory for a while.
Careful to make himself known so he wouldn't startle her into shooting him, he called from the doorway, "You're out of uniform, Lieutenant."
She didn't even turn around to acknowledge him. "Don't bother, Lieutenant. I'm not on duty for another five minutes."
"Then what are you doing here?" Malcolm was obscurely angered by her presence. He had always considered the armory his territory.
"Making modifications to this phase pistol," she replied, and it was then that he noticed the laser pencil sticking out of her hair, and the set of precision calibrating tools on the workstation by the PADDs.
Malcolm couldn't fault her dedication to her work, but felt he had to make some protest. "Well, next time ask me before…" His angry words trailed off as he came up beside her and saw the livid bruises on her left arm. "What the hell happened to your arm?"
Cassandra glanced down to where he was looking. "Oh, those," she said, as if just noticing them for the first time. She sighed, reluctant to talk about it. "My now ex-boyfriend objected to my leaving him on Jupiter Station to take this assignment aboard Enterprise. I tried explaining to him that I didn't have a choice about coming, but boys can be so pigheaded sometimes, you know." That zing was aimed directly at him, and Malcolm knew it.
"So where is he now?" In the brig, Malcolm hoped, for daring to lay his hands on this girl.
"Oh, I imagine he's still in Medical, nursing a broken nose, two cracked ribs and a dislocated knee." She saw his eyes widen at the description of her ferocity and smiled grimly. "I don't play well with others, Lieutenant Reed. Nor take kindly to being abused."
"What did Security have to say about all of this?" Malcolm was willing to bet that the blame for this incident had fallen squarely on her boyfriend, and her next words confirmed it.
"They took one look at him and at the bruises on my arm and called it a clear cut case of self-defense." Cassandra smirked. "The security officer in charge said there was no way that a 'little thing' like myself could have beaten the shit out of a big, hulking man like my ex without provocation."
"And why didn't the medtechs heal your arm? They must have seen it when Security was done with the whole mess." Malcolm was still angry that some sorry excuse for a man had dared to put his hands on Cassandra in a violent manner, never mind that she had done worse to him, and that Malcolm himself had had the urge to strangle her at least twice since they met.
"I wouldn't let them," she said. "I wanted a visible reminder of why I don't trust people."
"Why don't you trust people?" Malcolm had to ask. He didn't think she would be candid with him, but she surprised him with her words, which seemed to lay bare the very depths of her soul to him.
"For most of my childhood, as well as my teen years, people used and abused me in one form or another. The children my age either teased my about my smarts or used me to further themselves. The older children did that too, in addition to beating up on me because I was a convenient target within their range of influence. When I entered Starfleet Academy, I vowed that I would never let anyone do that to me again. And I've kept that promise."
For a moment, Malcolm could see the vulnerable child in Cassandra's eyes, then her chronometer beeped and it was gone. She untied her uniform sleeves from her waist and put them on, zipping up her uniform as she went. Malcolm was sorry to see her impressive curves covered up, but even sorrier that this moment had come to an end. From her confession, he had begun to understand her better, but she had retreated from him before he could find the real Cassandra he knew was there.
"Well, duty calls." She avoided his eyes as she retrieved her things from the workstation. "Trip's promised to help me find the things I need to begin my work today. Later." And she was gone, out the door before he even had the chance to apologize for making her relieve bad memories. Irritating she might be, but he had no wish to cause her pain.
"Damn!" Malcolm banged his fist on the workstation. He had hurt her, without even meaning to, and she'd gone running off to Trip, who, undoubtedly would commiserate with her about what a cad Malcolm was. He turned to survey the armory, making sure everything was in its place, when his eyes fell on a piece of paper lying on the floor by the worktable Cassandra had been using. Malcolm bent down and picked it up, and saw that it was a photograph. There was Cassandra, dwarfed by three other people, a stocky teenager who looked just like her, right down to the copper hair, a tall, thin, scholarly looking man with grey hair and a beard, and a woman with dark hair, going grey, done up in a braid that fell to her waist. This had to be her family, if looks were anything to go by. The older man and woman had their hands on Cassandra's shoulders and were smiling like any proud parents. The teenager, most certainly her brother, stood close without touching, as teenagers were wont to do when forced to take pictures, but he was also smiling. Cassandra herself was beaming, glad to be surrounded by her family, face glowing with pride, no doubt at her new Starfleet uniform. She must just have graduated the Academy when the picture was taken. Malcolm turned it over and saw written on the back 'Jason, Beth, Cassandra, and Maddox. Cassie's graduation, May 2150.' Jason and Beth must be her parents, and Maddox her brother.
Malcolm slipped the picture into the pocket over his heart, vowing to keep it until such time as Cassandra asked for it back. He was comforted by this tangible proof that she had a human side, for at first blush, she seemed as coldly logical as a Vulcan. But this proud, smiling Cassandra was nothing like the Cassandra who had thrown his contempt back in his face when they first met. Maybe there was hope for her after all.
A few days later, Malcolm was in the mess hall, eating lunch with Trip and Hoshi, trying to take his mind off the morning's argument with Cassandra over her priorities aboard the ship, when the object of his thoughts walked through the door. Once she'd gotten her food, she turned to find a place to sit, and her eyes met his. Cassandra narrowed her eyes at him, and he returned her look full force. As she started toward an empty table, Trip turned around to see what Malcolm was glaring at, and seeing Cassandra, waved and beckoned her over.
"Hey, Cassie! Over here! Come sit with us." Cassandra smiled and made her way to their table by the window.
"Trip!" Malcolm couldn't believe the nerve of his friend. "It's bad enough that I have to work with her, now you want me to spend my lunch hour in her company as well?"
"Be nice, Malcolm," Trip said, just as Hoshi kicked him under the cover of the table. "We're the only friends Cassie's got on this ship so far. Think how lonely she must feel."
By then, Cassandra had reached the table, and Trip moved over to sit across from Hoshi, ostensibly to give Cassandra the seat facing the window, but really so she would be forced to sit directly across from Malcolm.
"Hi Trip, Hoshi!" Cassandra greeted them enthusiastically. She paused a moment, then said neutrally, "Malcolm."
It was the first time she had called him by his given name, and Malcolm was stunned by the rush of pleasure he felt at hearing his name cross her lips, but knew he ought to respond in kind. "Cassandra," he said, nodding to acknowledge her presence.
"What're you eating today, Cassie," Trip asked cheerfully as soon as she sat down?
"Lasagna," Cassandra said with a blissful smile on her face. "It's my favorite!"
Trip laughed at the expression on her face. "Have you tried the meatloaf yet? It's one of Chef's specialties." He forked a bite off his own plate and offered it to her.
Cassandra shook her head and shuttered. "Thank you, but no! My mother used to make us meatloaf when we were kids, and that put me off of it for the rest of my natural life. Never let a vegetarian cook with meat." She grimaced. "It'll all end in tears."
Hoshi and Trip laughed at that, and even Malcolm was forced to chuckle at her tone. Cassandra scooped up an impossibly large bite of lasagna and put it into her mouth. "Mmm," she said indistinctly around her mouthful, "mush be'er an mea oaf."
"So, Cassie, now that you've gotten settled on Enterprise, what are you working on," Hoshi asked? "Have you started any new projects?"
Cassandra smiled and pulled a PADD out of one of her pockets. "As a matter of fact, I have," she said. "I'm working on a matter/antimatter bomb. Something to be used in addition to the regular torpedoes we have now."
"How does it work," Hoshi inquired?
"Well, as you know, matter and antimatter are direct opposites of each other, and react violently when they come in contact." Cassandra called up the specs on her PADD and held them out for Trip and Hoshi to peruse. "I've designed a way to keep them separate until the point of impact. Matter in one compartment, antimatter in another, with a neutral substance in the compartment between them. At the point of impact, or whenever it's set to explode, the barriers dissolve and the neutral substance is vented away from the bomb, leaving matter and antimatter free to mix, thus causing the explosion. This container is meant to be placed inside an empty torpedo shell and fired that way, but it should do a lot more damage than your average torpedo. Think along the lines of a reactor overload, since this is basically what happens inside a warp core, only not contained. One of these, properly placed, could take out a ship the size of Enterprise, or maybe even bigger. And it's much more versatile than the torpedoes. It could be used as a land or space mine, disguised as a decoy, or any number of other things.
"Very neat, Cassie," Trip said, looking over the specs. "But what kind of 'neutral substance' are we talking about here?"
"That's where I'm stuck," Cassandra admitted. "I haven't found anything that's neutral to both matter and antimatter, but I've only been working on it for a few days, so I'm sure the answer will come eventually. In the meantime, it'll have to take a backseat to my other priorities, like improving on the weapons Enterprise already has. Malcolm laid down the law on that account," she said sarcastically.
Not this argument again. "You need to concentrate on designing upgrades to our existing weapons," Malcolm snapped, "not trying to invent things that may never work."
"Starfleet gave me free reign on my work," she snapped right back, "and besides, there's not many more upgrades I can make to the weapons and armor. Enterprise is already equipped with top of the line in everything. The technology isn't available to make it better."
"Hey," Trip said, but neither Cassandra nor Malcolm paid him any heed.
"Well then make sure the equipment we have stays in working order. I can't have it failing on me in a crisis!" Malcolm's volume was rising in anger, and Cassandra's soon followed.
"That's what your weapons techs are for," Cassandra growled at him. "It's a complete waste of my talents to have me doing nothing but tweaking the existing systems. I'm supposed to be designing new and better weapons, not sitting around with my thumb up my ass!"
"Hey," Trip interjected a little louder, but they were too busy arguing to listen. All eyes in the room were now on the combative pair. To the crew of Enterprise, this was high drama.
"I don't need your new weapons," Malcolm shouted! "I'm doing just fine with the ones I have!" They had both stood up by this point, and were practically nose to nose.
"And what do you think the plasma cannons are," Cassandra shouted right back? "Those were only a prototype when Enterprise was built, yet from what I hear, if you hadn't had those 'new' weapons, you would have gotten blown out of the sky pretty quickly!"
Trip was fed up with their bickering. Malcolm and Cassandra could go on in this vein for quite a while, and he for one, wasn't having it. "Hey," he yelled at the top of his lungs, and that got their attention finally. "Cool it, the both of you," he said in a softer tone. "And sit down. That's an order! Everyone's staring at you two. You sound like a pair of three year olds fighting over a toy. You're both right. Cassie, you do need to make sure the weapons continue to run at peak output. Malcolm, Cassie was assigned to Enterprise to design entirely new weapons and defenses for us, not just to maintain what we already have. Cut her some slack. She's just doing her job."
"Typical, Trip," Malcolm muttered irritated. "Take her side. Make me look like the bad guy. Thank you very much."
They sat down to finish their lunch in silence, both still fuming over the argument that, thanks to Trip, neither could say they had won. Trip and Hoshi noticed that they were very careful not to look at each other or say anything that the other might reply to for the rest of the meal. As a result, everyone finished quickly and went about their separate business. When Malcolm and Cassandra had left, Hoshi remarked to Trip in a gloomy tone, "If this keeps up, not only will we never eat lunch in peace again, but the chances of us getting those two together will be practically nil."
Trip grinned. "Cheer up, Hoshi. All this fighting just means they like each other and don't know how to show it. Malcolm's never been this disconcerted over a woman, not even Ensign Hart. It's a good sign. Just you wait. Everything will come out right in the end."