"All ships, this is the USS Mary Sue. All ships, this is the
USS Mary Sue. We are under attack. Repeat, we are
under attack. We require immediate assist-"
Federation Longhauler USS Mary Sue, out of Starbase
31. Final transmission, Stardate 1616.2
Captain's Log, USS Enterprise, Captain James T Kirk,
Stardate 1585.7
We are well under way at warp 7 on our mission to
transport First In services to commence setting up
Starbase 34. We expect to arrive at the proposed
starbase site in two standard days, where we will leave
the First In crew and return to Starbase 9, to take our
part in the convoy transporting Starfleet staff and
civilians to the new starbase. After that, we will take the
opportunity of the long cruise to Starbase 18 to complete
planning for proposed refits and for section heads to
finalise promotion lists, as Starbase 18 is equipped not
only with a top-of-the-line shipyard but with adequate
Starfleet testing facilities for both the theoretical and
practical examinations required for promotion gazetting.
Due to the intensive nature of the preparations First In
must undertake, Lieutenant Commander Pateman
suggested that contact between Enterprise crew and our
passengers be limited to prevent distractions.
Commodore Whittaker agreed, and as a result we have
seen very little of our guests.
Ship's business continues much as usual, although Mr
Scott reminds me constantly that our time at Vulcan was
insufficient for full repairs of the damage we took in our
run in with the Klingons three weeks ago. He happily
anticipates taking the entire warp drive off line at
Starbase 18.
I have used the opportunity of our routine voyage to allow
those crew who will sit for promotion at Starbase 18 to
broaden their responsibilities and increase their
operational knowledge. Yeomen Brand and Shimona
have been posted to phaser tech, where they will have the
change to improve their ability with small mechanicals
and put into practice their knowledge of ship's weapon
systems. Yeoman Rand, whose experience with ship's
operations is second only to duty officers, is taking a turn
with Security - experiencing command for the first time
as she takes charge of Delta Squad. Lieutenant's (junior
grade) N'o and Larssen have been posted to hydroponics
and engineering respectively.
Kirk sat back in the centre chair. Engineering was not
only a good place for Larssen to gain hands on
understanding of the systems at the heart of a starship,
it was also physically and operationally as far away from
the cargo bays that housed the First In teams as it was
possible to get without an EVA suit. *Commodore*
Whittaker could say what he liked about Larssen, and
there was little Kirk could do about it, but he could
certainly make it exceedingly unlikely that Whittaker
would encounter her in the two days remaining before
they discharged their passengers into vacuum at parsec
34. As for Lieutenant Commander Pateman, the further
away from the Enterprise crew that *he* stayed, the
more Kirk liked it.
Still, politeness dictated that as captain, he make sure
that the First In teams had everything they needed to
prepare for the construction of Starbase 34.
"Computer, whereabouts of Commodore Whittaker?"
"Commodore Whittaker is in cargo bay 19."
"Computer, whereabouts of Lieutenant Commander
Pateman?"
"Lieutenant Commander Pateman is in cargo bay 18."
"Mr Sulu, you have the conn."
"Aye, sir." the helmsman said.
Cargo bay 19 was a bustle of activity. Whittaker stood
near the door, hands clasped behind his back, his face
pinched with disapproval.
"That man there! You're seven seconds behind schedule.
Catch up, man, catch up!"
One of the petty officers head and shoulders beneath a
computer console responded "Aye aye, sir!" and seconds
later Kirk saw the lights on the console blink in startup
sequence.
"Set the backup relays. Come on, men, move!"
"Aye aye, sir" Figures scuttled frantically. Whittaker
turned to Kirk.
"What do you think, eh?"
"Very efficient, sir." Kirk said. "Are these your usual
crew?"
"Most are, most are. A few newcomers, but I'll have
them knocked into shape before long, don't you worry.
What can I do for you, Captain?"
"Well, what can I do for *you*, Commodore? Do your
people have everything they need?"
"Oh, absolutely, absolutely. Don't need much, really,
can't have them getting used to the luxuries of a starship,
not soldiers like these. Can't have them softening up,
eh?"
"As you say, sir." Kirk said, smiling. "As you say. I won't
disrupt your training any further. Good day."
As he left, Whittaker was already striding forward,
bawling, "No, no! What do you think you're doing? Good
lord, man, that's no way to set a relay! You'll have two
minutes to do this when we're in position, or else you'll
slow down the whole schedule!"
The door to Cargo Bay 18 did not open automatically as
Kirk approached, and surprised, he looked at the controls.
The red decompression alert was blinking.
"Computer, status of Cargo Bay 18?"
"Cargo Bay 18 has been evacuated to vacuum.
Artificial gravity is currently set to null."
"Who's in there?"
"Please rephrase your request as a question."
"Computer, what personnel are currently in Cargo bay
18?"
"Present in Cargo Bay 18: Lieutenant Commander Harry
Pateman. Lieutenant Fernando Hiragol. Chief Petty
Officer David Thompson. Petty Officer Janet Mentsomo.
Petty -"
"Thank you, that'll do." Kirk said.
"Please rephrase your request as a question."
Kirk repressed a sigh. They had had to undergo some
major computer repairs at Vulcan, to replace most of the
communications infrastructure, and as always after the
Enterprise computer was - he couldn't help thinking
'tampered with' - it would take weeks before the
subroutines were accustomed to the crew's phrasing.
"No request, computer. That's all."
"My pleasure, Captain." the computer said, and Kirk
imagined just how far *that* response would send
Spock's eyebrow.
He went to the nearest storage locker and pulled out a
hard vacuum suit. It had been a while since he'd had
cause to suit himself up for EVA, and he was pleased to
note that it still took him less that ten seconds before
the seals were closed and the helmet light was blinking
green. A little clumsily, he clanked over to the door and
instructed the computer to put him through the airlock.
No doubt the crew in here were working just as
frantically as the ones next door, but the combination of
null gravity and vacuum lent their movements a balletic
grace, and without access to their communications band
Kirk could not hear any commands or questions. EVA
suits designed for humanoids circled past some that had
the bizarre shape of Sulamid equipment and past other
suits so odd Kirk could only guess at the anatomy of
their occupiers. The overall impression was one of
delicate, unhurried elegance, and it was only when he
looked closely that Kirk realised the crew members were
assembling Starbase modules from scratch at an
incredible speed. Even as he stood there, two more
sections were locked together, sealed against vacuum
and filled with atmosphere. The crew did not pause to
admire their handiwork, however. Simultaneously, the
three suited figures who had been working on that
module pushed away from each other, calculating their
speed and direction with precision. One reached a team
manhandling a walkway into position, used hir momentum
to flip over and fetched up with hands exactly on the
walkway's locking seal. Another soared across the
room, ricocheted neatly off the wall and tumbled into
position with a group assembling another module. The
third floated slowly away from the work, to come to a
neat landing beside Kirk, the magnetised boots
connecting with the floor with a faint vibration Kirk
could feel through his feet.
Stepping forward, the figure brought its faceplate into
view and Kirk saw that it was Harry Pateman inside the
suit. He touched his helmet to Kirk's and said:
"Frequency 4, lad."
Kirk found the frequency, and for a moment thought
he'd misunderstood Pateman. There was no conversation,
no orders or instructions or queries, to be heard over
the comm. Then he heard:
"We've got the Enterprise Cap'n visitin', people, so look
lively up there!" from Pateman.
"Aye, sir." came a chorus of peaceful responses.
Kirk listened a moment longer, but there were no
further sounds. He turned slightly to bring Pateman into
view.
"Your people work in silence?"
"Aye, well, if you need to be told, you've no place in First
In, that's what I tell 'em. Don't I?"
"Aye, sir." Again, that instant, unworried response.
"You're putting up a command and habitation module
here?"
"Aye, tha' we are. It's a first step to putting the base
together, we throw up the habitat and Whittaker's techs
go in an' put all the systems in, bring 'em on line."
"How long does it take you?"
"Thompson!" Pateman barked. "What's our last time on
this?"
"Two hours, 13 minutes, 42 seconds, sir."
"Are we on track?"
"A little in advance of ourselves, sir."
"There you go, Cap'n." Pateman said. "Two hours, 13
minutes, 42 seconds. On a good day."
"That's very impressive." Kirk said.
"Impressive, bollocks. I've seen school-children who
could do better, haven't I, people?"
"Aye, sir."
Kirk found himself smiling. The two men stood in silence
watching the work for a few moments, and Kirk found
himself studying Harry Pateman. He had seen him, at a
distance, at Starfleet Headquarters on a few occasions, a
vast bulk instantly recognisable, making his inexorable
way forward and trusting that anyone with an ounce of
self-preservation would step aside. Kirk had known
Pateman mainly by reputation, a man to be avoided, a
man whose good opinion was as dangerous as his hatred
and whose grasp of the niceties of interpersonal
communication was shaky at the best of times. This
mission was the first time Kirk had met him face to
face.
Pateman had the flat eyes and incapable of surprise face
common to non-commissioned officers in armies from
the dawn of time. Men like him had stood on the walls of
Troy while their superiors decided that a wooden horse
was just the thing to brighten up the town square, and
had cursed to themselves and made sure their swords
were to hand. Men like Pateman had stood knee deep in
mud in frozen trenches in the hells of Ypres and listened
impassively to a teenager from the right school order
them over the top to 'glorious battle', and then gone
around the soldiers helping the ones whose hands were
shaking to put their kit to rights and turning the shameful
incontinence of fear into a rowdy joke. Men like Pateman
had splashed ashore in a thousand dawn landings from
the Aegean to the Pacific to the seas of Narelie, had
gotten frightened troops into fighting order at battles
from Thermopylae to Gernicorn, had advised Napoleon
against a winter campaign in Russia and told T'reth to
reinforce his borders before the three moons were full:
and, overruled, had saluted obediently, already working
out how they could at least salvage their own handful of
men from the utter disaster to follow.
~Behind every successful general,~ Kirk thought, ~stand a
dozen Harry Patemans.~
~Sometimes with a weapon handy, just in case.~
"How many times will you make them do this before we
arrive?"