Chapter 34 - Uniform Plan
Spock stood by a niche in the wall of the Superintendent's office that sat below a natural light tunnel in the ceiling. It held the office's single plant, a blue spiked yucca crossbreed sporting tiny curved white thorns along its edges in perfectly spaced lines.
Back in the auditorium, the Vice Admiral in charge of the Academy was overseeing the drastic shortening of student hair. These events were so far outside Spock's expertise that he could not justify an opinion on Justin's actions. And he did not have Kirk's assistance right now. Spock's last message was still unanswered. Spock had emotionally given in seventy six hours and five minutes ago, and had not received a response to that message. Unlike the others he'd sent, the lack of reply left him adrift. Kirk had mentioned nearly every message that he would be on the move soon without warning.
Spock dearly needed Kirk's reaction, even though Kirk had seemed loathe to second guess Justin's authority in previous messages. Spock may have to seek out another opinion, perhaps Captain Chanel, who was more familiar with the workings of the Academy than Overlander. She may also be helpful in estimating how long Kirk would be out of contact. Spock centered his mind, did not check for a message, did not allow himself to wonder, yet again, if Kirk had been able to read Spock's message, even if he couldn't respond.
The door swished open. It wasn't Vice Admiral Justin. It was Jaek. He stopped in the opening, preventing the door from closing.
"I was told to wait here," Jaek said. He glanced behind him and came inside, remained near the door.
After a minute, he sniffed, made his way to a chair and sat down. After another half minute, he bent forward and violently scrubbed the back of his neck while grimacing. His hair was only marginally shorter but his face appeared larger. He glanced back at the door as if hearing something Spock had not. He slouched and sighed.
"You going to recover okay?" Jaek asked.
Spock wasn't certain how to answer. He'd put every effort into appearing completely recovered.
"Come on. You aren't the same. You think you are?" Jaek frowned, looked away. "What'd the docs say, then?" He projected more emotional upset than the situation justified.
Spock relaxed his shielding. Jaek's body felt keyed up, but the energies were internally focused. "I do not have a formal prognosis."
Jaek stared at him. "No? Oh."
"There are complications to my care that I do not care to expound upon."
"I get it." Jaek dropped his hands between his knees and slouched more. "You don't want to be part human right now. That's fine." He vigorously rubbed his neck again. "Look. I'm am sorry about what happened." Jaek said. "It didn't go right and I didn't deal properly with it going wrong. And I could have." He shook his head. "Easily. I could have taken on everyone's disappointment, the ribbing, probably even been the next target. That failure's on me, dodging that. No one else's fault."
Spock put his hands behind his back. "I acknowledge your expression of regret."
This brought Jaek's attention fully onto Spock. His eyes were coffee brown, lashes thick under a strong rounded brow ridge. His eyebrows were oddly lithe, as if shaped by trimming. He looked at Spock for a time. "We didn't mean to hurt you. That would be stupid. We were just trying to make a point." He looked away, gestured at the admiral's desk. "You're really good. Smart. You're ridiculously smart. You can't just be that good and not get attention. That's not how it works." He appeared saddened, energies turning inward. "We're supposed to be a team."
He rose up from a slouch. "Look. I really am sorry you got hurt. You weren't supposed to. I saw your parents at the hospital and somehow . . . I don't know. That was a shock for some reason. Like, of course you have parents who'd be freaking out, just like anyone else. I hadn't even thought at the time of the consequences of not backing down and letting the plan fail. I see that now. But you were asking to be brought down to a normal level. Don't you realize that?"
"I did not consider myself responsible for your pride."
"Yeah. You don't get it." Jaek rubbed his neck again, ran a finger under his collar and flicked his fingers away. "It's probably nothing to me now, but really. You want to be part of this, or not?"
"Should my companion and I have given in to being humiliated? Done so willingly? Do I need to engage in instigating such cruel behavior when it is my turn?"
"You're so so far away." Jaek shook his head, slouched again and looked at the desk.
"Explain, please."
Jaek tossed his hands. "It's not one thing. You want a formula, or something? There isn't one. Give that up." Jaek huffed in annoyance and turned in his chair to face Spock. "How'd you learn to be Vulcan?"
"I grew up Vulcan."
Jaek made a face. "Right. There was a process you got stuck in the middle of, right? You didn't ride above it all, you were stuck in it, right? This place is where you learn to be Starfleet. Okay? Understand?"
"When I was on a ship, I estimated that I fit in, without such initiation."
Jaek blinked rapidly. "Okay. Why did you feel that way?"
"There was a great deal to accomplish just to survive the next battle, to hold the ship together to return safely."
Jaek held up a hand, dropped it. "Exactly. That's how you build a team that's bound forever. You see an enemy here at Starfleet Academy?"
"No"
Jaek circled his hand as if to encourage more.
Spock said, "Some of the course material is quite difficult and we are forced to work in teams, but everyone here is more than equal to it or they would not have been admitted. But, the course material is not an enemy or a dangerous environment."
Jaek held his hand out as if offering something. "You're almost there."
"The students serve as their own enemy. Is that your thesis?"
Jaek pointed at Spock. "Right. We are, here, in this business against ourselves. Humans are always their own most effective enemy, so I'm told. Maybe Vulcans aren't."
Spock felt annoyed rather than informed. "I will consider what you are asserting. It seems better to use real situations, or simulations, to provide the proper impetuous for group bonding."
"They do that too. You'll see." Jaek lifted his chin. "You don't think it works, this interclass rivalry with the pressure of some kind of real consequences?"
Spock huffed, bit his lips. "I do sense I am bound more to the others in my year due to the ongoing actions of the other classes. I do not necessarily agree this is the best method of achieving this outcome."
Jaek shrugged. "I don't think it's my problem anymore, anyway."
They sat in silence until the door opened and Lt. Grange strode in. He looked between them, at Spock standing with hands clasped behind his back and Jaek, slouched in a chair, legs apart. Jaek pulled himself upright, knees together, became distant.
"Admiral Justin was delayed." Grange walked to the desk, leaned against the front of it.
Jaek shrugged. "I'm in no in hurry for the ax to fall." He gestured at Spock. "And he lives for boredom. Goes somewhere inside his head more interesting than here."
Grange kept his gaze pinned on Jaek, didn't respond.
"Still shaving heads?" Jaek asked.
"Finished."
Jaek smiled. "Hopefully someone starts a rumor it was due to a Rigellian fleshflea infestation. That'd be funny."
After six minutes, Vice Admiral Justin strode in, hard soles beating across the floor. "Thank you, Lieutenant."
Grange took a step, paused, frowned. "Sir." He went out.
Justin took a seat at his desk, pulled himself under it. "Your backup career plan, Mr. Jaek. You ready to depart for it?"
Spock felt Jaek's flesh lose tension even from halfway across the room. "No."
Justin looked up. "No? You asked this office last year to intervene with Captain Chanel to get her to accept you into her class. Seems like we're doing you a favor letting you get to shipbuilding full time."
Jaek lost the last of his rigid posture. "I actually. Can't stand the thought of it."
"Really?"
Jaek tipped his head to the side and held it there, shrugged. "I have to be good enough at it to validly walk away from it. And I want to get as far from it as possible. I want to take ships out. Break them, not make them."
This did not appear to surprise Justin. "What are you going to do?"
Jaek closed his eyes. "I don't know. I haven't mentioned any of this to my family. It's going to be tough to explain all at once."
Justin watched him for half a minute. He lifted his chin to address Spock where he stood off to the side. "Cadet. You've impressed me in the past with your ability to remain a step ahead of me. Why don't you tell Cadet Jaek what I plan to do?"
Jaek pulled up short at this. Stared at Justin, then Spock.
Spock's left brow twitched. He considered what was logical. "You wish Mr. Jaek to remain but only with strict and difficult conditions applied."
Jaek turned to the admiral. "Is that right?"
"It is. Care to explain why, Mr. Spock, since Mr. Jaek has not surmised?"
"The admiral is, presumably, pleased with your behavior over the fourteen minutes he arranged for you and I to be alone together."
"Did you know that ahead of time?" Jaek asked Spock.
"It was only a low likelihood in my mind. Although there was no reason to shave your hair if the Admiral had not intended for you to remain at this institution."
Jaek rubbed his head, sat up straighter. "I'll do anything to stay." This came out low and desperate. Spock considered that this difficult emotion must have been present the whole time, but properly buried.
Justin said, "Two conditions. One, I don't want to see Cadet Spock being asked to so much as fetch a donut for a senior cadet. You aren't responsible for controlling the second years, but your leadership skills should be more than equal to setting that standard for your peers' behavior regarding him. Anything befalls him, I'm coming down on them and you, even if you were on the moon at the time."
Jaek was leaning forward. "Okay."
"Don't be overeager. The second stipulation is the one that really counts. You have until the end of term to get Mr. Horton to resign his place at this institution."
Jaek's shoulders fell, slowly, a few millimeters at a time. His mouth opened and remained there. "I have to get Hortie to quit?"
"Yes. It saves the Academy a very public hearing to remove him. I know he will put up a fight, and while I, personally, am certain it was he who used the stunner, proving that is another matter. And the process of proving it will take down Horton's fellows like Cadet Holloway and the others who he can argue were complicit, but who I know are redeemable. I do not deem Mr. Horton to be redeemable. I have his full record, not just the parts he knows I'm allowed to have. He was admitted on the personal request of Captain Klein, a family friend. A move I failed to block as our Captains generally get one or two recommendations through before we judge whether they deserver more. Mr. Horton was given his chance. And now he's burned that chance."
"What's in his record?" Jaek said.
"That will have to come from him. Personally, I'd not ask him if I were you. It is a distraction and will put him on alert as to your motives. You have a difficult enough job as it is getting him to file an L-140."
"I don't know how I'm going to manage that. He likes it here. He's my friend."
"Consider it a senior project in advanced leadership. Pass-Fail. If he is still with us, you will not be and I will hold hearings at that time to hold him accountable and accept the fallout. Understood?"
Jaek wilted, looked around the room as if for something written out that might help. "I . . ." He straightened, but his voice was bereft. "Yes, sir." He shifted forward in the chair, remained slouched.
"You're dismissed."
Jaek slid off the chair and pushed to his feet, glanced at Spock with the same lost expression, departed. The door slid closed.
"Do you have unaddressed concerns, Cadet?" Justin sounded easy going again.
"No, sir."
"I like to have full range of administrative movement, so I'm grateful your father didn't start anything. He even fed the press a comment I couldn't have gotten away with, completely on his own. Did you see it?"
"I do not follow those particular feeds, Admiral."
"He said 'Space is dangerous and it was only logical the training should be as well.' And he was confident that you as well as any Vulcan were more than equal to it, that the events were incidental, and that was his full statement regarding it. If you get a chance, thank him for me since I can't. I don't expect that's what he really thinks. He was buying you space to make your own decisions, and provided me with the same, probably unintentionally."
"My father and I have not spoken of the incident in many days."
"I spoke to him two days ago. Asked if he was certain he didn't need anything from us, and he reiterated that he was leaving it up to you to decide what was needed. So, I'll tell you what I intend to do. After the thirty or so cadets we shaved today are properly exhausted and made malleable by two more weeks of extra duty, they are going through additional training: reactive empathy, behavioral resiliency experiences, that sort of thing. Then they are on the hook to take on groups of their peers through the same units during final term."
Justin knitted his hands together on the desk. "This is something we've considered doing in the past, but haven't. With good reason. It unfortunately doesn't prepare them well to be back on the bottom of the heap again in their first assignment. It makes them expect too much out of those above them and makes it harder for them to transition into an unfamiliar crew. But maybe, just maybe, they'll be better when they do move up and new cadets arrive under them having been through the same training. It will take time to know if it's effective. But we're going to give it a try. I feel like there's something for us to learn, one way or the other."
"I see, sir."
Justin sat back, lips pursed. "I want you to be as pleased to be here as I am to have you here."
"I am learning, sir. And I am pleased to be here."
Justin nodded with an official air, as if they understood each other. "Let Lt. Grange know if you need anything, okay?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good luck, Cadet."
Pools of light fell around the clusters of chairs and table in the basement of the Starfleet Annex. Lt. Carrom sat crookedly in a low, soft chair, hunched over devices arrayed on the armrest.
He looked up at Spock. "Cadet." Without moving, he added in friendly invitation, "Sit down."
Spock pulled over an upright chair and placed his padd before him on the unusually low table.
"You get a chance to glance at the assignment specs yet?"
"Yes, sir." Spock had read entirely through them.
Carrom sat up with a groan. "That's right, you don't need much sleep. I remember you said. I installed the model on a system much faster than the one provided for class. But I couldn't get you credentials on it. It's a computer in my temporary department, unfortunately."
"I have the model installed here."
"On that padd?"
"Yes, sir." Spock had upgraded the memory on his padd to a newer crystal array that used hashed three dimensional addressing. He longed to discuss the technical details of this, but held back, uncertain if the lieutenant would be interested. And as part of meshing better with others, assuming no seemed logical.
Carrom took the padd. Spock had the assignment model on the screen: an imaginary vessel in the Hercules class with a compressed vertical profile and fat engine nacelles. Carrom swiped at it and the model spun and cross sectioned, displayed hazy alternative layers accessible with more gestures.
"Look at that. No wonder this padd is such a brick. I've never seen one quite like it. Or heard of the brand." He tipped it edge on. "Looks like you took it into the field."
"I have opened it a number of times."
Carrom smiled as if this might be charming. Spock did not see how that could be amusing, let alone in that way.
Spock said, "The project instructions stated that we are allowed to interleave multiple model runs in the report as long as we document the critical points between them."
"Project groups often don't share a single live model space anyway. They fork to work on certain areas and fold back into the main model as larger fixed systems. Otherwise the interacting details will kill you."
Carrom picked up one of the devices on the arm of the chair and stared at it for half a minute. He put it back down and sighed. "Family are getting even for my scheduling something on a Friday." He leaned forward over Spock's padd. "Let's divvy up tasks for next week and get on with things."
Half an hour later, with 3D hierarchical lists in time code exploding on the screen, Carrom said, "You're taking on too much for Tuesday."
"It is an acceptable amount of work for me."
"It has to stay balanced though. And I have a job. And a family. This is your job."
"If I may, sir, my required first year courses and tasks are my job. This is in addition to that."
"Even worse, then, to load you up." He stretched his neck back. Spock sensed emotional straining along side the muscular. Carrom touched the screen, pulled on the timeline. "I'm going to set this for Thursday, in fact, and we'll let it settle the dependencies for Tuesday on its own." He let go of the timeline and the bubbles reorganized. "That's a lot of progress for less than a week, trust me."
He turned again to a device on the armrest. A young face with glistening brown hair had appeared, lit from below. It spoke silently, overly expressive.
Spock pulled his padd back to himself and pulled up the relevant change orders for the first item on the list. It was a coolant routing change that caused enormous headaches and excessive run lengths. He cut the system into two independent ones and optimized the routing to take advantage of the shorter runs.
"They won't allow the additional plant necessary for that," Carrom said when his attention returned.
"An exception was made for pressure pumped liquids on the upgrades to both the Ulster and the Jupiter IV just this month."
Carrom still held his small device up. He stared at Spock past it. "You know that sort of trivia?"
"I indexed and built a knowledge net of the specifications, drawings, build reports, requisition stock lists, and engineering notes for every vessel constructed for Starfleet in the last two years. I then hooked it into the design model by—"
"You have that? Let me see that."
"I did not have proper access to see any similar official version of such a program to prepare for this class. And I felt badly in need of an overview of the state of the art and what was expected given the mathematical impossibility of completing even a simple design to spec."
Spock pulled up his ad hoc knowledge base over the top of the model and turned it around.
Carrom's center pointed brows lowered but remained just as pointed. "This is a crazy way to look at this data. You have specs and then the coolant pumps linked to a chart of pipe run lengths and the most common valves in the attached systems, across all ships. Why?"
"It made logical sense to me to see it that way. As in nature, knowing creatures use vision is not as useful as knowing all of the mechanisms nature uses to implement vision."
"But you knew right away you could justify the exception for two separate runs because here are the exceptions standing out on the edge of the plot. Engineers would love this but Starfleet would hate it. Look at this. You even have the overruns and delays logged here along with every single note. This is too much information all at once. It's a data multi-tree from hell."
Carrom pushed the padd back to Spock. "Put that change aside for the moment and let's walk through a new one together from the start. We need to document decisions as we go along and I want to make sure we are consistent to avoid rewriting."
When they'd finished a second alteration to the model, Carrom patted his thighs and stood up. He gathered his devices into an antique document pouch. "Tuesday then. Hopefully. I'll message you if I have to cancel. In which case, Thursday."
Spock stood as well. "Yes, sir. See you then."
Spock returned across campus. It was quiet in the first year dormitory. The door to his room slid open revealing P'losiwst sitting at his desk, decorative, gem accented slippers up on the bunk. She had a bottle in her hand and the room smelled of ethyl alcohol vapors.
Spock raised a brow.
"Hello." She grinned, antenna straight up. "I needed to test if anyone in administration would notice if I used your room code." She put her feet down. "It wasn't that hard to get it. But that's only because you don't have a roommate. And the system thinks you should."
Spock put his things aside and sat on the bunk. "This test is in service of something?"
"Oh, don't get ideas." She held up her powder blue palms. "I know you're taken. I needed to see if there would be fallout over the next few days and since you would be okay with me coming in, and I could come up with a personal excuse that'd you'd back me up on . . . " She picked up the bottle and held it out. "Want a sip? Go on."
Spock accepted the bottle and took a gulp on the logic that a fellow cadet expected it and it would do him no measurable harm.
"I should have brought two bottles." She held her hand out and hugged the bottle without drinking from it. "I'm going to need your help. Not sure if you are going to be willing. It involves using access I suspect you have working for Lt. Grange in Student Services."
She waited. Spock nodded that she should continue. She held out the bottle with a sudden jab of her arm. "Have more."
Spock took another sip. Vapors rose into his sinuses and stung. He must have inhaled on a different timing relative to drinking. He would have to experiment with that with the next swallow.
"So." She gestured with a finger. "End of Term there is a huge parade grounds event. All the classes, some brass who can't get out of it. Parents. Active duty. Some old geezer retirees. Pretty big deal. They can't wait a whole year to pat everyone on the head, basically. It's always humid as the swamps of Geigen. And with any luck it will rain, or at least mist. Really hoping for rain."
She took a drink, hugged the bottle. "I am going to, very meticulously and with great precision, replace the dress uniforms of a few select students, whom you might happen to know, with a variety woven from the finest algae-sugar based fibers. I need, one . . ." She held up a finger. " . . . access to rooms to get to at the uniforms, and two, access to the scans off the Stores' computer for exact sizing. When I swap I'll adjust for any flaws in the originals. I'm hoping since no one wears these garments unless forced to, that they will be impeccable. I've lined up one company to make the right color and texture of fiber, another to weave it into the five fabrics that make up a Starfleet Dress Uniform, and another to cut and sew the garments and deliver them on time, each sealed with a separate humidity regulator. I just need to get into the right rooms to hang them up in the days before the end of term review."
She paused to swig from the bottle. Her motions seemed acted out, as if she were copying something she'd seen before.
"That fiber will dissolve easily once exposed to water, I am estimating," Spock said.
"Sweat will do it. But it will take longer than it would with rain or high humidity. I don't think I can replace skivvies, unfortunately, but a lot of guys skip the underoos to make the lines of the uniform look better. I know that since I, you know, notice that kind of thing." She took a swallow, daintily tapped her lips with her fingers. "The brass always go on and on at these things. Standing there in formation . . . Sweat will do it. And no one, under threat of a black mark that is never removed, ever, is allowed to move out of ranks." She snorted.
Spock raised a brow again.
She handed him the bottle. He took a gulp, estimated from the depression on his mental acuity that his blood alcohol level was rising. He must have changed his expression because P'losiwst giggled.
"Not only are they not allowed to move, being out of uniform on review is by itself a serious demerit. Imperfect uniform maintenance. Inadequate presentation." She spoke with a happy chirp. "It's almost like Starfleet was run by me." She pointed at her own chest. "Dress for success or get out."
The bottle was nearly empty. Spock said, "I will look through the systems I have access to."
"Carefully."
Spock nodded. "I have no other mode."
