ACT FIVE

He was going insane.

Perched on the edge of his bunk and wearing nothing more than a sheet, Master Chief Petty Officer Colin Mackenzie watched quietly as Ally Li searched for her uniform. Stark naked herself, she moved easily around his cabin, totally comfortable with her nudity in his presence. Although a part of him stirred at the sight, another part - a deeper part - was silently shrieking.

She'd shown up at his door just hours after they'd had an explosive argument in Engineering. Mac couldn't even remember what they were arguing about, only that it had ended with Lieutenant Commander Drahn breaking them apart before they came to actual blows. The Andorian had been furious at the two of them and, as he left Engineering, Mac just knew he'd be seeing Li later that night. When his door buzzed at twenty-three thirty, he let Ally in without a word. They hadn't said a word since.

They were too busy.

Things had made a lot more sense when they were on Challenger. Since coming to Endeavour, their ... relationship had turned into a frustrating mess, one now based more on sex than any real emotion, and it was slowly driving Mac crazy. They would bicker and argue, growing more furious at each other with every passing day until one of them would show up at the other's quarters. Hours would pass as they vented their frustrations in the most passionate way possible. Afterwards, things would be back to normal for a while; they'd be able to get along for a couple of hours and sometimes even days. In rare instances, they might even be able to act like an honest to God couple, but it wouldn't last.

It never lasted.

"Are you going to get dressed or just watch me?" Ally asked with a grin as she bent over to pick up her bra, presenting him with a glorious view of her naked ass. For an unnecessarily long moment, she stayed in that position and Mac felt his body responding.

"We need to talk, Ally," he said instead of grabbing her and throwing her onto the bed as he wanted to. His tone told her everything but then, that wasn't a surprise. How many times had they had this conversation since Pacifica?

"Strewth," she muttered as she straightened, "not this again." Spearing him with an annoyed look, she frowned. "Can't you just enjoy what we've got?"

"What do we have?" Mac asked as he leaned forward to rest his face in his hands. "Bloody good sex, but is that it?" He rubbed his temples as she pulled on her panties. Damn, but that was right sexy.

"I don't believe this," Li muttered, giving him another frustrated look. As always, her Perth accent was thick when she was frustrated. "Uncomplicated sex and you're bitching about it?" Her bra went on as she continued her mini-rant. "Next you'll be wanting a commitment or something." She pinned him with a look. "You sure you're not a sheila?"

"Don't dodge the sodding issue!" he snapped. "We can't keep doing this! What the hell are we?" His question, long avoided by them both, hung in the air.

"I ... I don't know," she finally said in response after a long moment of consideration. Her shoulders slumped as if in defeat and Mac knew exactly how she felt. Dressed only in her underwear, she dropped down beside him on the narrow bunk and they sat together in silence. "We're really buggered up, aren't we?" Ally asked softly. She leaned into him and he draped his arm over her shoulder.

"DCO to Engineering," the shipwide comm announced suddenly, breaking the moment, and Ally stirred. Without a word, Mac pulled his arm free and she stood. Their eyes met and he offered her a sardonic half-frown.

"Duty calls," he muttered, and she gave him a sad smile. Dressing quietly, she watched him as he watched her.

"Can I come by later?" Ally asked as she pulled on her duty jacket. He gave her a look, not entirely understanding what she was asking. "So we can talk," she finished and he nodded. "Just talk," she warned, and Mac gave her an indignant frown.

"You started it this time," he pointed out sharply, and she opened her mouth to respond. "Sorry," Mac muttered as he realized they were sliding right back into their old habits. Ally smirked at him as she headed to the door. For a moment, she paused there, hesitating as she gave him a long look that he couldn't hope to decipher. Finally, she nodded and disappeared through the doorway.

He dozed for a couple of minutes after she left, eventually forcing himself to get up at the behest of his bladder. Quickly dressing, he stepped out into the narrow corridor and made his way to the Enlisted Head. Having spent more than a little time in Ally's quarters, Mac was a bit jealous that the officer quarters had their own bathrooms. It was ironic, he mused as he walked the short way to the Head, that the enlisted personnel made up the bulk of Starfleet and did most of the actual work, yet the commissioned officers hogged the glory and the credit. On paper, the officers provided overall management and leadership in their areas of responsibility, but in reality, too many of them couldn't lead their way out of a paper bag. It fell to his NCOs, senior enlisted personnel who actually had a clue about commanding men and women, to pick up the slack.

As he entered the Head, Mac noticed two of his younger crewmen - Bernstein and al-Rishawi - horsing around with wet towels. The moment they saw him, both apprentice crewmen snapped to attention, their faces betraying their sudden anxiety at his presence. It was understandable: as the Chief of the Boat, he had nearly absolute power over the enlisted personnel; and only the captain or the first officer dared to question his decisions.

"Knock it off," he ordered with as light a tone as he could muster.

"Aye aye, Master Chief," the two replied in unison and Mac nearly shook his head as he walked to the nearest empty stall. That was something else he was having to get accustomed to. When he had joined Starfleet nearly twelve years ago, rank was more of a courtesy than an actual job description and, aside from determining seniority among equals, had little real bearing on day-to-day activities. All that changed with the integration of the MACOs.

Seemingly overnight, Starfleet became an actual military force. Rank suddenly meant something and, by dint of being the senior-most enlisted man aboard Endeavour, Mac found himself holding the unexpected job of being an administrator instead of an engineering specialist. Now the only times he was on the Engineering deck were those rare instances where duty required his presence or an emergency meant that extra bodies were needed.

On the bright side, it gave him unprecedented access to Captain Tucker, which allowed Mac the opportunity to really look out for the enlisted crewmen. Tucker actually listened to Mackenzie's concerns and usually implemented requested changes; on those rare instances where he didn't, the captain generally had a good reason.

Only cold water was coming out of the communal sink and he made a mental note to flag it to Engineering later. Drying his hands under the heated blower, he studied the floor of the Head with a critical eye, noting that it was dirtier than he liked it. Mac paused for a moment as he mentally reviewed the duty roster and tried to recall what department's turn it was to clean the Head. He smiled slightly at the realization that the Roughnecks were scheduled next. Karanja would probably get a kick out of having her battle-hardened grunts clean these floors.

As he leisurely wandered back toward his quarters, it finally occurred to Mac that there was an unusual amount of activity taking place and it irked him that he didn't know why; as Chief of the Boat, it was his job to know everything that was happening aboard Endeavour before anyone, even the captain.

"What's going on?" he asked a passing crewman, ignoring the look of muted surprise that flashed across the engineering specialist's face.

"Everyone's just worried about the Roughneck op, Master Chief," was the reply and Mac frowned. He'd warned Karanja to have her team standing by for combat operations shortly after the captain returned, but he should have been informed once the green light was given. That Karanja hadn't felt the need to give him a heads-up could only mean that she'd heard about his argument with Ally in Engineering and had correctly assumed he would be ... busy; though the ex-MACO pretended to be nothing more than a grunt, Mac had learned she was dangerously intuitive and had probably long since figured out the nature of his contentious relationship with Li. Guilt washed over him then; his men and women could be in harm's way even now and he'd just spent the last three hours in Ally's arms. This is why we have to stop, he told himself.

Within minutes, he was on the bridge, detouring only briefly to visit his quarters and finish dressing. The bridge was a hive of activity which, given the circumstances, was to be expected; what was surprising, however, was the presence of the Alpha-shift comm officer. Lieutenant Devereux was not scheduled to be duty officer for Gamma-shift, which meant that someone had roused her specifically for the operation. Once more, guilt surged through Mac; normally, he'd be the one to do that as a subtle way to remind the junior officers of his own unique power on the ship.

The viewscreen was dominated by a grunts-eye view of the target building, an image no doubt transmitted from some piece of Lieutenant Commander Eisler's specialized combat gear. As he took in the situation, Mac couldn't help but to think that, despite the fact it was on a space station, the building looked just like his favorite pub in London.

"...and twelve Orion bio-signatures on the lower level," Commander Eisler's voice was saying, his voice being broadcast to everyone on the bridge. "We can't get a clear reading on the second story; Endeavour, can you assist?" From her station, Devereux gave the officer at the SCI board a telling look, a clear indication to speak.

"Negative, TAC-Six," Lieutenant Ricker replied, her voice tinged with annoyance. "Our scans are being blocked."

"Then we do this the old-fashioned way," Eisler declared. "Roughnecks are a go. TAC-Six out."