IRRATIONAL

Doppelgänger Orbit
USS Enterprise (NCC-1701)
Stardate 2261.1

- 2040 hours -

USS Enterprise was designed to function in deep space for months or years at a time without ever visiting a starbase. Its interiors were spacious and forgiving, despite being thoroughly compartmentalized and reinforced against fire and exposure damage. In the saucer module - which contained almost the entire volume of the ship's habitation spaces - the inner hull was divided into three concentric rings around the "core" compartment, with each ring divided into sixteen independent compartments with their own life support, batteries and data servers. Command and control spaces and other vital areas of the ship were located closest to the core block, while quarters for ship's company filled out the middle ring of the saucer in sixteen grouped compartments, and the working areas of the ship - machine shops, laboratories, sensor bays and airlocks - dominated the outer ring, closest to the rim.

Each of Enterprise's crew compartments was its own little neighborhood, with turbolift stops accessing each one individually. Crew assignments were arranged so that officers who lived together rarely hard to work together, and since each individual cabins all had connections to the food processors below decks, they didn't even have to eat together. The old human saying "familiarity breeds contempt" wasn't entirely logical, but in alot of cases it was an undeniable truth.

What Security Chief McCahil was finding increasingly puzzling was the few cases where contempt had been bred to absurdity in the absence of familiarity. The number of fights between on-duty officers had more than tripled since New Years, and though on one level he knew this to be the usual holdiay-season dustup, some of the disorder was beginning to exhibit patterns now that he was beginning to see the same faces dragged into his security office over and over again, each time for totally different yet somehow totally same reasons. He'd last seen Lieutenant Onise, for example, after a fist fight with one of his supervisors in the belief that the latter was too friendly with his ex-girlfriend; similar case for Ensign Ayala, who was confined to quarters for three days for tattooing the words "chauvinist pig" on the forehead of one of her inebriated co-workers. His overall conclusion was that both of these people were a pair of misanthropes who were probably secretly in love with each other and hated themselves for it. Having them both dragged into his office at the same time for involvement in the exact same incident was... well, interesting to say the least. "Let me get this straight," McCahil leaned over his desk towards Ayala but fixed his gaze on Onise, "You're reporting Ensign Ayala for... attempted murder? Is that it?"

"Yes, Sir, I am."

McCahil looked at him incredulous. Then he leaned towards Onise and looked at Ayala, "And your contention is that the incident you recorded in your log..."

"It was an accidental shooting, as I reported. Therefore his accusation is groundless and he should be reprimanded for making it."

McCahil raised a brow, "You don't reprimand people for having opinions, Ayala. What I'm more interested in is how the hell you managed to accidentally shoot a man in the testicles with a perfectly functional phaser rifle."

Ayala cleared her throat, struggled to maintain her facade of complete knowledge and control of the situation, "There was some odd behavior in the firing circuit. It had happened once before and I thought it was going to discharge so I tried to warn the Lieutenant. He didn't listen."

"Your warning was a threat!" Onise snarled at her, "You were mad just becau-"

"First of all," McCahil cut him off, "If your overshield had been active at the time like it was supposed to be, the phaser blast wouldn't have affected you at all. You should be reprimanded just for that. Second of all, a phaser on low stun at a distance of five meters, discharged into the lower abdomen, is not a life threatening injury. Not even close. If anything it'll temporarily lower your sperm count, which isn't such a bad idea considering the duration of this tour. So your accusation is completely groundless."

Onise sighed, "Yes, Sir, but..."

"As for the accident report..." McCahil shook his head, "I'm having trouble buying this, Ensign."

"Respectfully, Sir, I'm not selling it. It's just a fact."

"Then how do you explain the operation log from the targeting monocle that suggests the phaser discharged intentionally?"

"The unit malfunctioned, Sir. I can't explain why it wouldn't reflect that fact. In any case, I had determined by myself that the malfunction was in the fire control circuit, which I have already replaced with a spare."

"How convenient."

"You can check that with the maintenance division, Sir."

"I intend to. Either way, consider yourself on report." Leaning towards her, but turning back to Onise, McCahil asked, "Now, what's your story?"

"My story about what, Sir?"

"Do you have any theories about why one of your shipmates might desire to intentionally shoot you in the gonads?"

"Simple malice, Chief."

"That's one theory... but see, most of the time when someone is pissed off enough to take a phaser to you, they'll just shoot you in the back and then claim ignorance. This is called "fragging." It usually happens to an officer with a big mouth and a small mind, which based on your record is you in a nutshell. But see, I'm curious right now as to what exactly would prompt one of your fellow officers to specifically shoot you in the nuts."

Onise cleared his throat and struggled to maintain his facade of complete knowledge and control of the situation, "I didn't want to say anything, Lieutenant, but... well, during the away mission, and even before that, Ensign Ayala's behavior has been incredibly erratic."

"Really?"

Onise nodded, "I um... well, the Ensign has made a number of advances... sexual advances, Lieutenant."

Ayala looked at him sideways, as if he was claiming to be in contact with the Virgin Mary.

McCahil's expression was little different. "Really?"

"I believe Ensign Ayala was angry with me for rejecting those advan-"

"You know what, forget I asked. You two... I don't know what the hell is going on with you and I really don't care. You need to pull your heads out of your asses and focus on your damn jobs. Is that understood?"

"Yes Sir," they both said.

"Now," McCahil turned his attention to his desktop computer and pulled up their personnel files, "Lieutenant Onise, you're berthed in 212, port side. Ayala you're in 204, starboard side. Obviously, there's no reason you should run into each other while off duty, so take steps to keep it that way. I'm also changing your duty roster so you'll never have to work with each other again either. And let me make this clear: if you can't find it in your combined willpower to get along with each other, you do us all a favor and avoid any further contact for the duration of this mission. Is this understood?"

"Yes, Sir," they both said in unison.

"Good. Now get the hell out of my office. Ayala, you go first. Onise, stay for a minute, I need you to drop off a requisition form to the machinists."

Ensign Ayala did go first, not sure if McCahil was going to talk privately with Onise, and not really caring. She walked out of his office and down the pristine, shiny white corridors of the administrative section to the nearest turbolift, conveniently parked at the stop just for her. Four seconds later, the lift opened to an identical but light blue colored corridor - color coded for her residential section - which, in turn, lead into the vast open space of the "Iron Town," Compartment 204.

No other starship in the fleet had accommodations like this, and Enterprise probably wouldn't survive without it. Like all the other Junior Officer's areas, Iron Town was a large open atrium two decks high with sun-spectrum lights built into the ceiling and a set of strategically placed circulation fans hidden in the bulkheads, all for a fairly convincing sensation of being outdoors. This single compartment had twenty two double-bunk cabins, two small lounge areas with seating for a dozen officers and a sub deck with storage compartments for emergency supplies and survival gear in the event of a ship-wide catastrophe. It reminded Ayala of one of Earth's indoor shopping malls, only a little more cozy and a lot less crowded.

In some ways, the ground level "lobby" floor was the center of social life for each compartment, and Iron Town 204's lobby contained a green faux-grass garden lined with imitation park benches and a large empty platform where some kind of statue was probably supposed to have been mounted before Enterprise left space dock. Presently, that statue was occupied by a mechanical pitching machine firing sixteen-inch softballs at a spot in the courtyard that had been emptied of tables by Ensign Meaney and Lieutenant Badjarule, the latter holding a wooden baseball bat and crouched in a stance, a mangled officer's field manual doubling as home plate. A few others sitting off to the side were half watching the game and half chatting amongst themselves, Ensign Meaney being in the midst of it all along with Ensign Riley and Lieutenant Sulu. Ensign Torens and Ensign Doyle were there too, but not engaging the others in conversation; actually, they had both squeezed into a single chair in one corner of the table where they were both intensely and lovingly admiring each other's eyes.

The pitching machine fired off another salvo, Badjarule swung and blasted the softball towards the far uppermost corner of the room where it bounced off a structural column and began a chaotic, pinball-like ricochet around the compartment. Perhaps a dozen officers standing in the lobby and the balcony tracked the ball's progression, ready to reach out and grab it if it should come within range. Some of these officers were playing in the game, knowing that whoever caught the ball before it hit the deck would get the next turn at bat, while others were just enjoying the novelty of having to not-get-hit by a wayward softball. Naturally, anyone who didn't want to be bothered by a shipboard softball game was either in their quarters or safely tucked way behind Badjarule's line of fire.

Ayala wasn't in the mood for ball games today, but she didn't wan to retreat to the relative seclusion her cabin yet. She found an empty seat at the table with the others and quietly dropped into it. A conversation was under way, currently dominated by Ensign Meaney, in the middle of explaining, "It's a fact of sentient life forms. Everyone has this one pet peeve that drives them totally insane. Just the mention of the subject makes them crazy. At least one, but everyone does. It's like a psychological berserk button."

Ensign Torens looked dubious, but not actively so. Just bored with Meaney's usual nonsense and eager to talk about something else. "If you say so..."

"I'll prove it. See, I happen to know Lieutenant Sulu's berserk button is the idea of having a food slot on the bridge."

Sulu looked at him angrily, "Don't you start that again."

Meaney shrugged, "What? Don't you think it be nice to have a food slot on the bri-"

Sulu came half out of his chair, "No it wouldn't be nice to have a food slot on the goddamn bridge! What the hell is wrong with you?! It's a command station, not a cafeteria! How the hell do you have time to eat something in the middle a bridge rotation?! The whole shift is only four hours long! You can't wait a couple of damned hours to get something to eat?! Christ! If you're that hungry in a duty cycle, you'd better be curled in a diabetic seizure, call a goddamn medical emergency if you can't wait two freaking hours for the next cycle! What are you, bored?! Do you not have enough to do on the bridge that you have to sit their munching on fried chicken every fifteen goddamn minutes?! This is a starship, not a buffet table you fat bastard!"

Not even halfway through Sulu's tirade, everyone within earshot had fully collapsed into hysterical laughter. Including Torens, who found the entire display not only hilarious, but completely unprecedented.

And Meaney wasn't even finished. Gasping for breath, he slapped the table a few times to get his composure and then offered sheepishly, "Okay, no food slot... how about a coffee maker?"

A vein popped out on Sulu's forehead, "Oh yeah, that's exactly what I want sitting on my console during combat maneuvers, a big dumbass pot of hot-freaking-coffee! How about we install some water fountains in the engine room too? You never know when those high voltage lines might get ya thirsty! Christ! How the hell did you get on this ship if you can't make it through a duty cycle with a goddamn coffee pot plugged into your gut?! You can do what the rest of your shipmates do and get your coffee from the galley, you thirsty son of a bitch!"

Ensign Riley was laughing so hard his face had turned bright red. Torens and Ayala were already hunched over the table in spasms. Meaney was quietly chuckling to himself at having pushed Sulu to the edge of madness for the fourth time today, and it didn't seem like the man would ever become any less irritated by the very mention of the subject. And as he had before, he diffused the entire mood by commenting simply, "How about a tea kettle?"

Sulu started to launch another rant. Then he thought better of it, and seemed to immediately return to his usual calm, collected, thoughtful personage they had all come to know and love. "Tea's fine," he said gently, "It's good for you."

"Damn, Hikaru," Ayala rasped, wiping tears from her eyes, "Just damn."

Sulu shrugged, "Don't even talk. We all know what it takes to set you off."

"What? What do you mean?"

Not that it was meant to set off Ayala, but it definitely triggered something close to the surface in the rest of her comrades. All eyes turned to her, and the expressions of five officers turned to accusing scowls.

"Okay... what'd I do?" Ayala asked in protest.

Meaney was the first to ask, "Is it true that you shot Lieutenant Onise in the balls?"

Ayala shrank a little bit. "So what if it is? We gonna have a problem here?"

Sulu shrugged, "Don't get so defensive, I mean this is Onise we're talking about, he probably deserved it. We're all just wondering... you know... what exactly was he doing that would prompt you to shoot him in the balls?"

"Quick question," Ensign Riley held up a hand, "Why does Onise deser-"

"Shut up, Riley." Meaney turned his attention back to Ayala, "He didn't... you know... try something, did he?"

Ayala's first thought was, for the sake of rumor control, she might as well let everyone go on thinking the worst so at least they wouldn't look down on her for loosing her temper. On the other hand, she understood that she was messing with forces she couldn't really control and opted to keep her exaggerations as small as possible. "We had an argument to that effect... but I maintain for the record that phaser discharged accidentally."

"So, well... off the record, what happened down there?"

"He didn't try anything but he was getting ready to."

"What do you mean?" Riley asked, "Did he threaten you?"

"He'd assumed an aggressive posture."

Long glances cycled the table as everyone there tried to figure out what she was talking about.

Ayala's cheeks turned blue as she started to blush, "I saw that he was flexing some of his muscles in preparation for a certain action..."

"He had an erection," Badjarule said, half listening to the conversation from home plate.

Everyone sat up and looked at Badjarule, then at Ayala in amazement.

Ayala hung her head. "I honestly thought I was in danger. But I really never meant to shoot him."

"I don't believe that for a minute," Meaney grumbled, "And besides, I hope you're aware, human males don't have manual control of that part of the anatomy."

"You don't?"

"No, we don't. It's mostly automatic reflexes and instinct. And since I know your next question: No, human women do not have ovisepticles."

"What's an ovisepticle?" Sulu asked.

Meaney said plainly, "Orion men have a prehensile penis. They use it to move egg sacks from one chamber to the next, sort of like an elephant's trunk."

Sulu whistled in amazement, "Orion mating must be complicated."

Ayala looked puzzled, "And human mating isn't?"

"It is," Badjarule said from home plate, pausing just long enough to swing at the next pitch, "but with Orion men, they have to directly locate the egg sack, fertilize it, then move the sack to an implantation site within about five minutes. With humans, it happens on a microscopic scale and it mostly takes care of itself."

"Then why do your men have ovipositors?" Ayala asked.

Badjarule laughed, then swing at the next pitch and smashed it in a line drive straight towards the main pressure door, "It's really big dumb rod that gets pushed around with brute force. It stiffens during arousal, but other than that they can barely move it at all."

"Wow..." her cheeks turned almost bright blue now and she stared at the table in a state of interminable self-horror. "That actually sounds kind of... romantic."

"Romantic?" Meany asked.

Under his breath, Sulu grumbled, "Is anyone else amazed that this discussion hasn't gotten awkward yet?" Torens and Doyle both nodded in agreement.

"I mean... if you think about it," Ayala went on, "it's sort of an anatomical geiger counter, right? It'll respond automatically to the attractiveness of a nearby female. You can't hide your true feelings, because you don't have conscious control of your ovipositors... huh... In hindsight, I guess I should have taken it as a complement."

Meany started to say something else, but Riley had his attention on the corridor at the other end of the atrium to say, "Apparently we have some trouble controlling turbolifts too."

When they looked in that direction, they saw Lieutenant Onise standing there, scanning the walkways and sky bridges and the alcoves along the bulkheads until he finally located Ayala at the table. Obviously his goal, he approached the table with the kind of arrogant swagger and a look of smug superiority that almost made Riley want to shoot him as he stood up to greet the man, "Aren't you supposed to be on duty, Onise?"

"Shut up, Riley. Ayala, can I have a word with you please?"

Ensign Ayala slowly stood up, then sat back down in her chair facing him.

"In private, Ensign."

"I'm off duty, Lieutenant."

"I'm your superior officer, and I just told you..."

"I'm your superior officer," Sulu interjected, "And I'm telling you to check that attitude in the corridor. We're all having a nice peaceful conversation here, there's no need for all this hostility."

Onise glowered at Sulu, then glowered even harder at Ayala. "Look. McCahill obviously won't do anything to resolve this situation, so I thought we could settle this like adults. So... I... uh... I really think that you owe me an apology."

Ayala chuckled, "I'm sorry you don't have conscious control of your reproductive organs, and I'm sorry I didn't realize that until recently. I'm not sorry my phaser accidentally stunned you in the baby-maker."

"Ensign Ayala..." Onise chuckled lightly, menacingly, "You and I both know, you can't afford to loose this commission. Once Starfleet cuts you loose, there's a whole galaxy full of colorful characters ready to make a new home for you. If that's what you want... well... it can be arranged."

"So could another phaser malfunction..."

"And if you even try that again, I'll make you wish you were never born. One way or the other, you will show me proper respect."

Even Sulu thought this was going a little far. And more to the point, it was a little out of character for Onise, whose most aggressive posture usually stopped at snide sarcasm and a rolling of the eyes. "Kembi, what the hell's gotten into you?"

"Mind your own business, rice picker! I can handle my own woman!"

Everyone at the table looked at Sulu - and Sulu looked back at them - in tickled amazement. The thought they all shared was a universal concern, but Onise didn't seem to be drunk...

To Riley, the turbolift station on the far bulkhead was starting to beacon to him, like a football end-zone to Onise's football-shaped attitude. He stood up from the chair and very firmly, very carefully, gestured for Ayala to stand up, "And we all know how to handle a drunken asshole on a power trip," he pushed her aside and picked up the chair she had been sitting on until now, "And you know what, I think this chair is about to have a malfun-" he spun around and flung the chair, as hard as he could, directly at Onise's head. The Lieutenant was fast enough to dodge the chair, but not fast enough to dodge the suddenly-running Irishman who pounced on him in a dive, grabbed the back of his uniform shirt and pulled it over the top of his head like a hood. Blinded and disoriented, Onise swung his fists in the air, until Sulu and Meaney joined Riley and grabbing him by his arms and legs and flinging him, bodily, into the compartment's turbolift. Sulu punched the code for Main Shuttlebay, and then stepped out before the doors could close on him.

Riley returned to the table to find Ayala beaming at him, a look of joy and gratitude he hadn't seen on a woman since that time he sowed the nose back onto his baby sister's teddy bear. "That was really sweet of you, Riley."

The Ensign laughed nervously, "Awww... well... it was uh..."

"Oh, please, don't get him started," Ensign Meaney said as he rejoined the table, to the agreement of Sulu and Torens.

"Gentleman, I do believe the lady just paid me a compliment. Don't get all salty on me just because you're jealous."

"We're not jealous," Sulu said, "We just hate you. Anyway, what the hell's gotten into Kembi lately? I've never seem him act like that before."

Ayala nodded, "And him talking about 'my woman.' What's that all about?"

"Maybe he's infatuated?" Riley said, "I heard somewhere that Orion woman sometimes emit pheremones that-"

Ayala shot Riley a look so angry, so chillingly violent that for a few seconds he actually forgot how to speak.

"Um... the... I... I mean, it's just a rumor."

"I'm sure you've heard many rumors about Orion women. Let me assure you-"

"God... don't get her started." Meaney grumbled.

Ayala took a deep breath and reconsidered her response, "Maybe some time we'll get together and I'll show you how many of them are true. Until then," Ayala leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, "I still hate you"

Riley sighed, "I'm so confused..."

"Shut up, Riley," Ayala patted him on the cheek with a heartwarming smile and then headed off to the stairway to her quarters on the second level.

Riley watched her go, then buried his head in his arms and groaned in frustration. "Screw you all. And one day I'm gonna marry that girl. And we're gonna have, like, six kids. I'm gonna become an Admiral. And I'm gonna have a whole planet named after me."

Sulu patted him on the shoulder sympathetically, "We know, Riley. That's why we hate you."