The chief engineer was just stepping out of his office when Kincaid arrived in Engineering Central at 0530. His office was a sanctuary to him almost as much as the lower engineering levels were. He could gather his thoughts, figure things out, or relax and unwind with his beloved engines around him. Engineers came and went all day with questions or reports, or sometimes a need to discuss other matters with him. He never discouraged them. When he needed time alone, or with an engineer, he secured the door and his people knew not to disturb him. Rarely did they ever find him unavailable.
He was surprised to see Kincaid in the section at such an early hour. "You're early," he observed.
"You're earlier," she responded, which made him smile.
"Point taken. Step on in here."
She followed him into his office and took the seat to which he motioned. "Nervous?" he asked.
"Should I be?"
"I canna answer that for you. The position you're filling is an important one. That's something I need you to realize."
She studied him, noting his ease of manner and air of authority. He was in his element. This was his world…and hers, if he would let her share in it with him. She loved engineering and that was why she was on the Enterprise.
"No, sir. I'm not nervous."
"Do you know anything about Lieutenant DeSalle?"
"Not much. I know he died in the line of duty."
Scott drew in a slow, deep breath. He still felt the grief of loss. "Most of the people I lost were senior engineers. They died doing their jobs. Being a starship engineer has its inherent dangers. Those dangers are magnified for those with more experience, in positions with more responsibility. Seven engineers survived that day because of DeSalle's actions. Ultimately, he gave his life for this ship. Do you get what I'm sayin'?"
"Yes, sir. Your expectations will be high. Part of my responsibility will be the ship's engineering section and the other part will be her engineers."
Scott nodded with a small smile. "Good. We understand one another. Now I want you to tell me what your expectations are."
"More than anything else, I expect to learn. I know how to carry out the interpersonal aspects of my job, and I'm a good engineer with a solid grasp of starship engineering. I'm a good supervisor, but I have never gotten my fill of engineering. I want to know everything there is to know about this ship, practical, theoretical, all of it. I learned a great deal on Excaliber, but there's more to learn. I know Mr. Fischer was frustrated with all my questions. Maybe he didn't know a good way to answer some of them, maybe there were things he couldn't answer. He never said."
"I've talked to him. I know all about your 'incessant curiosity,' as he put it. Do you think things will be different on the Enterprise?"
"Yes, sir, I do."
"Why is that?"
"That's because of you. According to Chief Fischer and everyone else in Star Fleet with an opinion, you are the best there is. I want to learn from the best."
Scott knew what they said about him. His own opinion of himself was merely that he was doing the best he knew how at a job he loved more than anything in the universe. He was just an engineer trying to keep his ship in top operating condition and protect her from others who did not love and care for her the way he did. Kirk may have loved the ship, but Scott's devotion ran even deeper than his captain's.
He remembered his devastation upon receiving word of Mira Romaine's untimely death. As always, he sought solace in his work. Among the circuits and relays of his ship, he found peace. The thrum of the starship's mighty engines had soothed his pain, helping to mend his broken heart.
McCoy, he knew, worried about him. The doctor read much more into Scott's actions and reactions than Scott himself did, interpreting them against the background of his loss. What McCoy failed to understand was that interpersonal relationships were different for him. He cherished his friendship with McCoy more than the doctor would ever know. He valued other friendships—with Kirk and others around the ship with whom he felt a bond of some kind, including Spock. He took his position as second officer seriously and the crew had come to respect and trust him. His engineers entrusted their problems to him when they sought help for their troubles. His affinity for his engines, for machines in general, was a lifelong love affair. In many ways, people couldn't help who they became, but machines consistently became exactly what they were designed to be. Some might say that people were secondary to him, but that was certainly not the case. He had put his life on the line for his fellows many times over the course of his career. People did matter to him. The paradox with which he lived was that his Enterprise meant more to him than most people ever could. The Enterprise was his heart and soul. No person had ever managed to breach that, and he wasn't certain anyone ever would.
"All right, lieutenant," he said. "If you want to learn, I am willin' to teach you."
Her face lit up like a Christmas tree, and Scott was sure he hadn't ever seen a more beautiful face. She could barely contain her enthusiasm. "Thank you, sir! I won't let you down!"
"I'm sure you won't," he answered with a genuine smile.
The office doors opened and Preston and Wilson walked into the room. "Are we interrupting, sir?" Wilson asked.
"No. Come in."
The men assumed a position of attention in front of his desk, which was protocol, but amused Scott nonetheless.
"At ease," he said.
They relaxed their stances, but not by much. Kincaid had moved to stand behind him, careful to keep her expression neutral. Wilson may not have stepped on any toes yet, but Preston deserved to sweat some more. She was already aligning herself with the only man in Engineering who outranked her.
"Did you think about what I said yesterday, lads?" Scott asked.
Wilson answered, "Yes, sir."
At the exact same moment, Preston replied, "About what?"
Scott rubbed his forehead for a moment. "Mr. Wilson, would you care to enlighten Mr. Preston?"
"Yes, sir." He looked at his best friend. "Respect, dummy. Remember?"
"Oh, that."
"Aye," Scott agreed. "That."
"I'm sorry, sir. I had something else on my mind."
"And what would that something else have been?"
"My ass-um, I mean, my career."
Scott had difficulty keeping a straight face. "That would worry me, too. What do you suggest we do about it?"
"Ahm, w-we, sir?"
"That's what I said."
"When did it become a 'we' problem? Uh, sir?"
Scoot turned to look at Kincaid. "A little rough around the edges, wouldn't you say?"
"Yes, sir. But maybe he's just a diamond in the rough."
Scott slowly nodded agreement. "Maybe." He turned back to Preston and Wilson. "It became a 'we' problem the moment you materialized in the transporter room. I will be honest with both of you. Star Fleet has had a hard time finding a place for you to be. You have the makings of fine engineers. You're both smart and creative. But you lack discipline. That's the rub. No one has ever faulted your abilities that I have heard. Always the issues arise with behavior and attitude. So here you are. I will be more demanding than any chief engineer you have ever worked under. You are going to prove yourselves again and again, like every other engineer in this section. Make no mistake, gentlemen—I will not tolerate any tomfoolery in my engine room."
The two men looked at each other before speaking in unison, "Yes, sir."
Scott was more understanding of the young men than they knew, but he wasn't about to let them know that. "Now, about your issues with respect and authority figures. In this engineering section, I am the final authority. In my absence, Lieutenant Kincaid will take my place. On this ship, you will answer to the captain, the first officer, the chief medical officer and myself, without question. That being said, you will also extend the courtesy of respect to every person on this ship. They have earned it. If you find yourselves at odds with anyone, do not take it upon yourselves to deal with them. You come to me or to Kincaid and we will help you figure out what to do. Understand?"
"Yes, sir," they replied.
"Mr. Preston, your eyes are glazing over."
"No, sir, they are not." He hesitated before adding, "I didn't sleep well last night."
"Is something wrong with your quarters?"
"No, that's not it, sir."
"Then what is 'it'?"
"Just...nerves, I guess."
Scott finally did smile and he shook his head. He rose and placed his hands on his desk as he leaned forward. "Listen to me, Mr. Preston, and listen good. You are goin' to have shore leave on many different bases, outposts, stations, and planets, where you will encounter many different people, human and non-human. Most of the time, you won't know those people from Adam. You may be interacting with a starship captain, an ambassador or a scullery maid. You never know. I suggest you become verra, verra good at treating everyone with basic respect until you have a damn good reason not to. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir," they replied.
"May I add something, Chief?" Kincaid asked.
"Be my guest," Scott responded as he stepped aside to let her address the men who had become her friends.
She looked directly at Preston. "Do you remember what Mr. Wilson and I told you the first time we met Mr. Scott and Dr. McCoy?"
"I remember," Preston said. "You told me he wasn't what I thought he was and I was going to choke on my words."
"More or less," she agreed. "You never asked how I knew you were wrong."
"Lucky guess?" Preston asked.
"You watched him leave the room with the doctor," she said. "But you didn't observe him: the way he carried himself, the way others in the room greeted him, all that said Star Fleet, Ray. You just refused to see it."
"That's verra good, lieutenant," Scott commended.
"Yes, sir," she replied as she stepped back.
Scott addressed the two young men once more. "Learn," he said. "That's why you're here. Now go on and get yourselves some breakfast. Report to Lieutenant Harris in Engineering Central at 0830."
"Yes, sir."
"And, Mr. Preston?"
"Yes, sir?"
"You will do whatever Mr. Harris orders, even if you think the task is beneath you. If he tells you to scrub the floors with a toothbrush, that is exactly what I had better find you doing."
"Yes, Mr. Scott."
Once they were gone, Kincaid asked, "What are your orders for me, sir?"
"You will shadow me, lieutenant, and I will answer all your questions."
She beamed at him. "Yes, sir!"
At the end of the shift, Preston and Wilson once again stood before the chief engineer's desk. "You did good work today, lads."
"Thank you, sir," they replied.
"No toothbrushes yet," Preston added.
"Let's try to keep it that way," Scott said. He picked up a small red data file and held it out to them. Preston took it from his hand. "What's this?"
"It's something for you to review before I see you in the morning: same time, same place. We'll discuss it then."
"Yes, sir."
"Dismissed."
They hurried from the room, which drew a quiet, tired laugh from the chief engineer.
"What was that?" Kincaid asked as she sat in a chair facing him across his desk.
"It was part of a story, one that you started."
"Me?"
"Aye. Back on Starbase 12, your discussion about phasers and warp engines? I was truthful when I said I've done it before, but Mr. Preston checked my story and he could find nothing about it ever having been done. Why would that be?"
"Two reasons: a tall tale or a classified one."
"Right. He chose to accuse me of being a liar."
"Naturally. The real reason was that it's classified, right?"
"Right. The theoretical engineers back on Earth said it couldn't be done, either. So they are studying my report to see if they can find a practical application for it."
"Of course they are. No engineer I know would ever attempt to channel phasers through the warp drive. What made you do it?"
"Desperation, knowledge, trust and something a bit more tenuous."
"Ok. I'll bite. Explain that."
"It was a desperate situation. We were under attack, our phasers were depleted and our torpedoes were ineffective. I knew I could channel phasers through the engines, but I also knew it had never been done before. The captain trusted me to do something. He didn't much care what it was and I couldn't let him down. I was out of options. So I told my people what to do and I trusted my engines to handle the load."
"There was a lot of trust in the air that day, wasn't there?"
"I suppose you could say that."
"The captain trusts you a great deal."
"He does. That's the way he runs this ship—the way a ship should be run. There's little I wouldn't do for the man, and I don't ever want to let him down. The day I do will be the day none of us come home. In a way, we both push the envelope."
"My guess would be he goes as far as he does because he knows you'll come through for him."
"Maybe."
"He's a good captain?"
"There are none better. You'll see that soon enough."
He leaned back and rubbed his eyes. "Are you all right, chief?" she asked.
"I'm fine. Just tired."
"It was a long day," she agreed, but she was on cloud nine from receiving detailed explanations for every question she asked.
For Scott, the day was one long review of his knowledge of his systems, which could have made it tedious, but he basked in the warmth of Kincaid's enthusiasm. Although he was mostly recovered from his injuries and exhaustion, he still felt residual fatigue, as McCoy warned he would. It would soon pass.
"So what was your first impression of Ray and Carl as engineers?" Kincaid asked.
"They definitely have the potential indicated in their records. Someday they may well be excellent engineers."
"They behaved today."
"They're testing the water."
"How do you know that? Maybe they've turned over a new leaf."
Scott laughed, genuinely amused at her hopefulness. "Oh, no, they've done nothing of the sort. They are going to watch and listen, maybe for a few weeks but not much longer. Then they'll try something. You can count on that."
"How can you be so sure? You gave them a pretty stern lecture."
"I had a similar lecture many years ago from a chief I grew to admire like no other. Back then I was just like Mr. Preston. I was cocky and stubborn and I tested my limits all the time. It was my chief who kept me out of the same kind of trouble Ray has had. And I got serious before something went really wrong with my career. Ray and Carl have had some tough breaks. I wish they had been sent here before it came down to their last chance."
"You really think they have a shot at making it?"
"More than just a shot. I think they'll make it, but don't tell them I said that."
She studied him intently. "What makes you so different from the other men who have had to deal with them?"
"I understand them. The lads haven't been challenged. Other men have hesitated to challenge them because they goof off so much. It's boredom that gets them in trouble. Once they know exactly where they stand with me, they'll stay in line. They just have to find out where the line is and they've never been able to find that out before. They've never been given the opportunity."
He continued to surprise and impress her, particularly where Preston and Wilson were concerned. She had expected a much different response from him regarding the two men.
"Now what are you starin' at me like that for?" he asked.
She saw the smile in his eyes. "You surprise me, sir."
"How?"
"I expected you to take a very tough stand with them."
"I will when I have to. They won't cross that line more than once or twice. Believe me, they will know exactly which line they canna cross."
He stretched sore back muscles, then invited her to step around the desk. "Let me introduce you to my end-of-shift reports and then you can call it a day."
"That sounds like a plan," she said as she leaned over his shoulder to watch the monitor on his desk.
He studied her profile for a moment, then, his attention back on his monitor screen, he returned to his role as teacher.