Chapter 9
Ritha shoved her fingers through her hair while squeezing tired eyes closed as though that would make the glare of staring at an illuminated computer terminal fade. It didn't. In fact, she made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat and even went so far as smacking her hand on the hard surface, which only resulted in making her palm sting. She had no idea what they were overlooking! The air filters had been a bust. They'd even torn apart the environmental system's hub trying to find a container of liquefied chemical with no luck.
To be fair, Spock, who had joined them about an hour after they'd started the process, wasn't having any luck either, but then he wasn't trained as an engineer the way she was. She should have had the problem figured out by now so everyone could return to the ship and get a decent night's sleep in their own beds. Unfortunately, either her inexperience or a stereotypical blonde moment meant it was taking ten times longer than it probably should have. She scrolled down a page in the manual she was looking over, pausing to scratch at a patch of irritated skin, something they were all starting to develop after spending so much time exposed to the gas. Much longer and they would all turn into toads and start developing body warts.
"Ensign Monroe, we have yet to check the gravity inducer cam shafts. According to this engineering blueprint, the cam shafts sit within two feet of the main oxygen recycler sub-housing," Spock commented from a nearby stool.
Before she could respond, Chekov piped in, "We received word from Doctor McCoy to outfit ourselves with HazMat suits."
"Just a second, Chekov," she responded before rolling her chair back and leaning over Spock's shoulder to look at the blueprints.
"Ensign Monroe, I feel I must remind you of personal space. While your presence in this situation is not unwarranted, I would prefer a certain distance between our bodies."
Rolling her eyes, she took a step back and to the side. He never complained when Jim or Bones crowded him, but then they were part of some freaky platonic love triangle she wanted to know absolutely nothing about. "It can't be in the cam shafts. I mean, we can check, but that's three feet of solid metal. Someone would have noticed a person in here making that much racket."
She was just about to throw her hands up and exclaim that she was officially tendering her resignation to Starfleet on account of being the stupidest engineer in the entire fleet when a nearby door swished open. Jim had come and gone several times from Engineering over the hours, so she didn't think much of it until righting her position to greet him. Scotty, leaning heavily against the door frame and a hand clutching his head, was there instead.
"Montgomery Scott, what are you doing out of your bed?" she shouted. Keenser and a couple of other engineers got there before she could to help him. "Bones and Stella are going to murder you when they discover you're missing."
"Can't leave my baby to rot and flounder without me, Lass. Where do we stand?"
"You don't stand anywhere. Your butt has thirty seconds to get in that chair before I take a paddle to it. Just because you're starting to feel better doesn't mean you should be walking around."
"I concur with the ensign." Spock retrieved his handheld and adjusted the frequency before continuing, "Doctor McCoy, do not assemble search parties to retrieve Lieutenant Commander Scott. He just arrived in Engineering."
Bones' voice emanated from the device. "You tell that stubborn-as-a-mule Scotsman I'm getting into HazMat to drag his ass back off that ship."
"All of you bloody stop frettin'! I'm not going to be kicking the bucket any time soon. Chekov, since the rest of them are delighting in ignoring me, fill me in on what you've checked already."
Ritha kicked a stool away from Scotty's console so he would have room to sit down while Chekov rattled off a list in his heavy Russian accent. That was one guy who would take getting used to in order to fully understand what he was saying when he started rattling things off. Scotty's accent was much less thick, but even his words could become garbled when he really got going. At any rate, she was glad the focus was off her for the time being, giving her a much-needed moment to turn away from the group and allow the bone-deep weariness to show through on her face. Would it make her very childish if she stomped her foot and whined for her daddy? He would know what to do to make everything better again.
The weariness fled from her face to be replaced by one of earnestness and interest when Scotty cleared his throat. Not a trace of fatigue or despondency was left by the time she turned back around to face the others.
There wasn't a single ounce of condescension in Scotty's tone when he finally announced, "The first place you shoulda looked is the environmental system's onboard injection manifold. Pop the cover off that baby in a matter of minutes if you know how to do it right, and it's got direct access to the oxygen ducts via the sub-grid relay lines."
"God, I'm so stupid!" Her hand whacked against her forehead, which only had her making a slight whining sound. Considering she hadn't had any sleep in going on forty-eight hours, she felt she was entitled to a little whining. "Why didn't I think about that in the first place? I ruled it out as not having direct access to the oxygen ducts."
"I'm the only one who's allowed to whine here, Lass. You're a brilliant engineer, but you don't have the experience I do. Get some more experience under your belt, and you'll be the chief engineering officer of your own ship."
Only she wasn't sure she wanted to be the chief engineering officer on any other ship. That wasn't to say she had her eye on Scotty's job. She didn't, but the idea of leaving all the friends she'd made behind and starting over with that much responsibility hanging over her head was enough to make her pulse race and beads of sweat form on her brow. The idea of accepting a promotion in which she might be required to take on more leadership duties was stressful enough. A junior lieutenant hardly had any greater leadership responsibility than an ensign, so if it saved her from having a desk job back on Earth, she would just have to get used to the idea and take baby steps.
Ritha leaned up against a nearby console while Scotty put an engineer to the task of removing the cover. The letter from Starfleet had arrived in her inbox when she'd been serving on the USS Obama, named so to honor the growing diversity of the United States since he was the first president with any kind of African American heritage. Apparently things like that had been a big deal back in the twenty-first century. She'd been informed in no uncertain terms that if she didn't accept a promotion within the next year she would be brought up for review. People who went in for reviews like that often wound up at desk jobs on Earth. Starfleet liked their officers to work up the ranks. Something about showing motivation to constantly strive for achievements. Maybe it was unfair, but weren't private corporations the same way?
Her attention returned to those around her when Engineer Rayburn declared he had the injection manifold cover off and could see a foreign object inside. The man's hands were trembling just a little when he pulled a shallow, circular dish no bigger around than the bottom of a soda can from inside the manifold. Steam swayed lazily up from what remained of the dish's contents, a rather noxious-looking yellow liquid, from sitting directly on the heat produced by the manifold.
Chekov ran forward with his tricorder to take the necessary readings before announcing, "Positive identification as tetrahydine."
Hours of tension fled from her shoulders at the same moment and left her in what she expected to be a permanent slouch. Now that the source material was gone, they could have the air cleaned up in a matter of a couple of hours, which meant everyone could go about their normal business.
"Ritha, I'm gonna be a good little Scotsman and return to the triage before Bones gets the bright idea of gluin' my arse to a mattress. Start the flush cycle and program the computer to perform a full purge then get your butt out of here."
"But-"
"Don't 'but' me, Girl. Get right back on that horse and ride it for all it's worth. You're the acting chief engineer officer. This is your mess to clean up. I'm on vacation." Scotty followed it up with one of his good-natured smiles, so she knew he wasn't being condescending toward her, was merely trying to motivate her and rebuild her confidence.
"I will escort the lieutenant commander back to his bed and inform Captain Kirk of our success," announced Spock.
"Have you spoken to Nyo--err--Lieutenant Uhura? Is she okay?"
Something remotely in the region of a softening of his expression took place before he said, "We spoke not long ago, and yes, she has no lasting effects from inhaling the poisonous gas. I will inform her you asked after her welfare."
"Thanks."
She was left alone with Chekov, who insisted on staying behind until the job was complete, and a couple of other engineers, but it didn't take long to input the commands that began flushing the system. After setting a programmed purge that would suck all the oxygen out of the ship and replace it with fresh, clean air, she accompanied the others off the Enterprise.
The first thing she did was remove the oxygen mask and drag in a deep breath of fresh air. Oxygen masks were great, but there was nothing better than non-recycled air and the feeling of a slight breeze against skin. The breeze also reminded her how inflamed and itchy her skin was, but not even that could take away from the euphoria of no longer being confined to the engineering deck. There was something claustrophobic about knowing she was onboard a ship filled with contaminated air and couldn't leave Engineering.
The second thing she was intending to do was find some water and some food to quiet her complaining stomach. Her intentions didn't pan out. Bones was suddenly jogging in her direction with his medical kit slung over his shoulder and his tricorder out. There wasn't even time to protest before he attacked her with the sensor to start reading her vitals. Why in the name of all the chocolate in the world did she have the sudden urge to latch onto him like a koala as if merely being pressed up against him would make some of the stress disappear?
"I'm giving you an antihistamine and blood filter to be on the safe side. Once you've had a moment to cool off, see Nurse Chapel. She'll give you a cream to help the irritation to your skin," he said.
"I'm okay, Bones. The nausea and headache went away a few hours ago."
"Good to hear, but you're still getting the injection and the anti-inflammation cream." There was no arguing with him when he would just hyposhark her. The injection was far gentler than she'd seen him give in the past and didn't even sting.
"Bones, I'm sorry," she whispered, weariness leaving her feeling more vulnerable than usual. "I'm sorry for how we left it this morning, and I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions, and I'm sorry if you felt pressured."
He imitated Spock again when an eyebrow arched as though he couldn't believe she was apologizing. "Yeah, I'm sorry too."
"Can I have a hug? I'm not really used to asking for hugs. Generally, I just take them, but rumor has it you despise public displays of affection."
Watching the emotion play across his face was a refreshing change from Spock, who didn't make facial expression, leastwise not ones she could read, and Captain Kirk, who only showed the world what he wanted them to see. The shock on Bones' expression was clear, precise, and spoke volumes. "Rumor has it I also have a forked tongue and a tail sprouting out of my backside, but that doesn't make it true."
A shuddering breath escaped when Bones, sheltered from the immediate view of most of the crew members by the shuttle bay doors from whence she'd exited, pulled her up against his chest and tucked his arms around her. She was even more surprised when his cheek rested on the crown of her head. Tomorrow they might be bickering again. Tomorrow, the reality of the situation would hit them like a ton of bricks and prevent moments like these, so for now, she would take all she could get.
"I just want you to know I've never expected or wanted the sun, the moon, and the stars from you. Yeah, I like you and think we have chemistry, but it doesn't have to go beyond the having fun stage."
"Ritha, I don't-"
She interrupted him. "Don't. Bones, I'm not asking anything more from you than you're willing to give. It's not like I'm some love-struck bint mooning over you and offering to accept any scraps you're willing to give me, because I'm not. This is on my terms as much as it's on yours. I just thought we could have fun. Sex can be just for fun. It doesn't have to have all those pesky emotional entanglements associated with it."
"Aren't I the one who's supposed to be talking you into no-strings-attached sex? You would be Jim's fantasy come true."
Stopping herself from immediately jumping to the conclusion he was trying to deflect the conversation was a challenge. "Except I don't want to be in Jim's bed. He's a cool guy, but his personality does nothing to turn me on."
"And mine does?" he asked incredulously. "You're a glutton for punishment or have some serious issues if you go for tall, dark, and snarky."
"I happen to like tall, dark, and snarky. You got a problem with that, Babe?"
"I'm a doctor, not a babe."
"You're a babe who happens to be a doctor." She shifted her head out from under his cheek to smile up at him.
"You're obviously sleep-deprived. Let's get you something to eat and a warm place to bed down, because I doubt either of us is in any condition to go for a romp between the sheets right now, so it's a moot discussion."
Sleep sounded good. The purge would be done in only a couple of hours, but sleeping outside the ship for a few hours certainly wouldn't hurt her. Ritha extricated herself from the hug, a little surprised when Bones kept his arm around her waist to guide her to Building Three where he informed her Jong Je Jin had opened up the cafeteria to serve sandwiches and coffee to the tired and crew.
***
"Captain, what are you still doing up? I thought Commander Spock and Bones wrestled you off to bed a while ago." Stella asked, suddenly behind him.
Jim, his face buried in a cup of coffee inside the dry dock cafeteria, almost jumped out of his chair at Stella's sudden voice. Hot coffee splashed over the rim of his mug where it scalded his hand. Breath hissed through his teeth. It was a sad day in a captain's life when he was so wound up and had so much going on he became as skittish as a virgin. And yeah, he'd deflowered a few those in his life even if virgins were few and far between. At least he took the time to make sure said virgin had a great first experience.
"Let me take a look at that and make sure you haven't scalded yourself."
The good doctor didn't give him an opportunity to consent; she just grabbed his hand and inspected the area with a gentle touch, allowing him the opportunity to look up at her. Some people might have considered her a little on the plain side when she wasn't wearing make up, but there was something charming about the way her nose had a slight up-turn at the end. Her blue eyes were some of the clearest he'd seen. In short, he was fascinated enough with Stella to want to take her to bed, but that was all he would ever be able to give her.
Clearing his throat, he watched her spread cream over the scalded flesh and tape a bandage over it. "Well, what's the prognosis, Doc? Am I going to live?"
"I'm pretty sure you'll come through without any lasting damage. Ensign Chekov says the purge will be complete soon, so we're preparing to move everyone back inside."
"Have a seat and have some coffee while you're waiting. I can't imagine you've had much opportunity to sit down since this all started." He nudged a seat away from the table with his foot.
Stella didn't speak again until she'd poured herself a cup of coffee from one of the large percolators and settled herself in the chair. "Are the rumors true?"
"The rumors that I've insured my family jewels for upwards of eighty million credits? A gross exaggeration." He leaned closer to her. "I only insured them for ten million."
Laughter bubbled out of her. "Not that rumor! I mean the one where we're being attacked by terrorists and their pet androids for helping the Istabulians. No one bothers to give me all the facts."
"Yeah, that one's true. These pricks are more aggressive than I thought to actually attack the Enterprise. I mean, the smart thing to do when trained Federation officers show up to hunt you down is to go into hiding. Why attack the ship? It's guaranteed to piss off the people who take on the case."
"I don't know, but they're sure not adept at picking poisonous substances. Tetrahydine? Sure, it's effective if you breathe it in long enough, but there are poisons out there that would have devastated the crew in a matter of minutes. If they'd used Bultovian daroweed the way they used tetrahydine, only ten or twenty percent of the crew would have made it off the ship."
"So maybe they're just not good at poisoning people. That's actually a bit of a relief," he stared down into his coffee, his brow knitting together.
"It's the same with the poison they introduced to the water sanitation plants in Bulta. Sure, the poison is nasty business, but the number of people who will actually die from it is relatively small, only those who are aged, young, or their immune systems are already compromised."
"Are you suggesting they're picking poisons that have a low mortality rate on purpose? It's just as likely they aren't researching their poisons properly. Only that's not likely is it? These people are smart enough to develop advanced androids but not smart enough to research the poison they're using?"
"If it's true, it means they're not trying to commit mass genocide, which is generally at the top of a terrorist's list of priorities. I'm no expert by any means, but if this line of thinking is true, their organization would be more of a fringe group trying to get the attention of mainstream society for whatever reason."
"That's something think about. So are you going to have dinner with me when this is all over with?" Jim flashed his most charming smile.