[Transcript of interview conducted by CMO Santo
Jackson of the USS Gryphon with unidentified human
male: page two hundred and thirteen]
UHM: And I told him and I told him but he never did
listen he never did listen t me even when I was right and
I knew I was right that time I mean what else was there
for us to do and I could have done it I could have made
it but he wouldn't listen he was always jealous of me and
it was all crap he was just jealous and he knew I was right
but he was always jealous of me -
SJ: Who's 'he'?
UHM: He's he I'm me you're you we're all us that's what
he never understood and I could have told him but he
never listened to me he was always jealous because I
understood it and he never understood he just made
decisions well is that any way to do things I ask you it
should have been me and it would have been me if only
he'd listened I could have done it -
SJ: What's your name?
UHM: I could have if only he'd listened but you know the
ones who can't they're always scared and they take it
out on the ones who can you know I could show you I
could take you I could make it all -
[Interjection from observer]
SJ: No, it's been three hours, I don't think I'll get
anything more.
UHM: You could get all if you want that's what I told him
but you know if you're scared it won't happen you have
to take it shake it make it and then you'll know and then
you'll understand and I could make you baby you've
never had it as good as I could -
[Noises]
SJ: No, get ... [unintelligible] ... 10ccs and a ...
[unintelligible] ... just - God - get him -"
[End transcript]
Partial transcript of interview conducted by CMO Santo
Jackson of the USS Gryphon with unidentified human
male picked up from unpowered escape pod by USS
Gryphon, Stardate 1620.3, Alpha Sector , parasec 33
Captain's Log, USS Enterprise, Captain James T Kirk
Stardate 1598.2
The First In services are currently debarking. Lieutenant
Commander Pateman's crew, with the exception of Ms
Anderson who is still on the critical list, are already
assembling the initial habitation and command module
while the rest of the mission team are finalising the
loading of equipment into First In shuttles and preparing
to commence computer start-up on what will, shortly,
be Starbase 34.
Personal Log, James T Kirk, Stardate 1598.2
I can't say I'll be sorry to see either of them go.
Commodore Whittaker - as I have already detailed in my
report to Starfleet Command - shows a disregard for the
appropriate protocol for a starship passenger of whatever
rank that I find, frankly, improper. Furthermore, while I
have no formal right to interfere in his command of First
In, I find his disregard for crew safety and morale
personally repugnant. He demonstrates a tendency to
gossip I find unbecoming, and is a living example of the
worst of Starfleet's thankfully bygone attitudes to non-
human and female officers and crew. And while I have no
professional complaints to make against Lieutenant
Commander Harry Pateman, his disregard for rank and
his - forceful - personality are perhaps more suited to a
wider stage than the Enterprise can provide.
Not to mention a larger liquor supply.
Computer, erase that last sentence.
I hope that we will soon be returning to Starbase 9 to
take our place in the convoy ferrying personnel and final
supplies to Starbase 34. It seems ridiculous that in 7
more standard days Starbase 34 will be fully operational,
but First In work these miracles on a regular basis. I
remember when setting up a Starbase was a year long
process and the major modules had to be towed in
entire. These days they're assembled on the spot and
with a speed that still seems incredible.
If only Starfleet will apply the same dispatch to our much
needed engine overhaul when we finally dock at Starbase
18. It's anther stinted shore leave for the Enterprise
crew, but at least one that will allow some time for R & R.
In addition, Starbase 18 has the staff and faculties for
examination and verification of recommended promotions.
As a consequence, Yeomans Brand and Shimona,
Lieutenant J-G Larssen, Lieutenant N'o and of course
Yeoman Rand are waiting, no doubt with varying degrees
of nervousness, for our arrival.
Kirk ended the recording as the door chime sounded.
"Come," he said, and as if summoned by his thoughts
Janice Rand came through the door.
"Captain," she said, "I have the reports from Hydroponics
and from catering."
"Tell me what I need to know." Kirk said.
"Sir?" It would be an earth-shattering event, Captain Kirk
letting even the smallest detail of his job depend on the
judgement of someone else.
"Just this once, Yeoman. Summarise."
"Ah, uh, yes, sir. Well, Hydroponics is functioning at
point six above normal, but that's down on last month
which was point eight. Lieutenant Sharez says that the
new strain of oxy-regen algae is less productive than
the last one, and the introduction of that strain
correlates with the drop. She also says that it seems
hardier than the last lot, so she's willing to give it
another cycle before making a decision on whether or
not to keep it. Catering is running at .4 below normal,
but it has been since we lost the second bay at Vouche,
and Lieutenant Commander Singh has restructured the
on-call replication shifts to bring supply up to near
normal at peak demand. There's a corresponding fall
off during delta shift, of course."
"Recommendations?"
"Ahh, I would go with Ms Sharez on the algae, sir.
And the crew are happier with the faster service on
alpha and beta shifts, and Mr Singh has promised all of
delta shift a special compensatory banquet when we
reach Starbase 18, so they're taking it in good part. I
wouldn't change his roster, sir."
"No, neither would I." Kirk said. "Thank you, yeoman.
Your recommendations seem sound to me."
"Thank you, sir." Rand looked somewhat surprised,
and Kirk felt a twinge of guilt. Captain's yeoman was
traditionally a learning position, with crew who showed
command potential rotating through it to learn the
ropes. Kirk's tendency to retain all the strings of the
Enterprise in his own hands had led to Rand learning
little in her years with him. He wondered if he would
have taken more time to teach his yeoman if it had been
a bright young man he had been presented with, and
not a bright young woman. Perhaps if he had started
this tour with Yeoman Jack Rand, he would have rotated
two or three crew through the position and seen them
go on to brighter things. Instead, Janice Rand had
been channelling paperwork and making coffee for far
longer than she should have been.
"Yeoman," he said, "after we leave Starbase 18 I want
you to start running a shadow log. Do you know what
that is?"
"Yes, sir." she said. "A mock captain's log in which I
record the decisions I would have made if I were
captain, to compare against yours later." She
hesitated. "Sir, I've been doing that for eighteen
months now."
"Oh."
"I mean - I haven't been able to compare it to the
captain's log, sir, because of course I don't have access.
But I keep a log and check it against what I can work out
from mission logs and talking to people."
"Of course .. of course you do." Kirk said, recovering.
"Why don't you bring your shadow log from the Vouche
mission here after your duty shift ends. We'll go through
it together."
She looked surprised again, and it was that which made
Kirk see most clearly how badly he'd behaved to her.
"Yeoman," he said, "in two weeks you'll be a Lieutenant
Junior Grade. You'll be able to chose command track if
you want. Have you thought about that?"
"Sir, I - there aren't many women in the command track."
~No, there aren't,~ Kirk thought grimly, ~and partly because
captains like me use their women crew like glorified
secretaries and receptionists.~
"I suggest you *do* think about it," he said gently. "It
isn't a decision to be made lightly. Why don't you talk to
Lieutenant Commander Uhura about it, see how she
found the training."
"Yes, sir." she said. "I'll do that."
Kirk sat looking at the door for a few moments after
Rand left. Would she make a good candidate for
command training? He had no idea. She had worked
with him for years now, and he had no real idea of her
capabilities.
The thought of a woman sitting in the captain's chair of
the Enterprise, not as officer with the conn but as the
captain himse - no, *herself* - was vaguely disturbing.
Women didn't try to command, they didn't *want* to
command, unless they were like Janice Lester, who
wanted to be a man ... No, Uhura had said she didn't
want to be a man. Uhura had said "She wanted to be a
person, sir."
Kirk rubbed his eyes. He felt as if somebody was trying
to stretch his skull from the inside. Well, if Yeoman
Rand wanted to try for command, he'd treat her like
he'd treat a man. Maybe she was up to it. Maybe she'd
see sense. The only way to find out was to put her to
the test.
He sighed, and stood up. Perhaps *he* was the one who
should speak to Uhura.
He glanced at his desk. The PADDs holding the latest
section reports were piled perilously high. He picked up
one at random and read for a few minutes the details of
the latest work in hydroponics, then dropped it to the
desk again and stood. There was only so much
paperwork a captain could stand.
Striding down the corridor to the turbolift, he speculated
yet again on the mysterious process of multiplication
that meant that for every unread PADD on his desk
when he went to bed, there'd be two in the morning.
They seemed to breed like tribbles.
He shuddered at that thought, stepped into the turbo-lift
and told it to take him to the bridge.
Alpha shift were all present with the exception of Spock,
and Kirk took a moment to look around and rejoice again
in the superb crew he had to work with.
"Mr Chekov, is course laid in for Starbase 9?" he asked,
dropping into the centre chair.
"Aye, sair."
"How long will it take us?"
"Three standard days, sair."
"Ms Uhura, status on First In?"
"Last shuttle away now sir."
"Let's take a look."
The view screen showed a backdrop of stars, and against
it the tiny, busy lights that were Harry Pateman's people
putting finishing touches to the structure that would
form the heart of the new Starbase. Even as the bridge
crew watched, lights went on in one of the modules.
"That's power to the computer hub, sir." Sulu said.
"Bohez moi! They're fast!"
"Captain," Uhura said, "All stations report secure for
departure."
"Very good. Mr Sulu, take us out of the area at one
quarter impulse, engage warp drive at standard perimeter."
"Aye, sir."
"All crew, this is the captain. We are currently en-route
to Starbase 9, expected arrival in 3 standard days. At
that time, we will be taking on approximately five hundred
passengers and fifteen cargo bays of supplies, all bound
for Starbase 34. Your section heads have appropriate
orders for you: you will receive briefing within the next
24 hours. Kirk out."
Five hundred passengers and that amount of stores
would strain, but not over-stretch, the Enterprise's
capacity. Although recreation would have to be used as
living space for some of the passengers, and the empty
cargo bays as well, Kirk's main concern was the limited
turnaround time they had to make certain everything,
and every body, was loaded and appropriately stowed
within the fifteen hours they would have between arrival
and the convoy's due departure. Add to the Enterprise's
load at least 10 and possibly more ships all trying to fill
up to capacity in the same fifteen hour space, and there
was ample room for chaos to proliferate.
And if there's one thing I know about chaos, Kirk thought
wryly, it's that it surely does tend to proliferate.
He ran over the plans one more time, approved a few
amendments by Yeoman Rand and the quartermaster
Lieutenant Singh, queried a dozen more and sent it the
plans back. Then he looked around again. The bridge
was running quietly and smoothly, and there was no need
for his presence.
"Mr Chekov, you have the conn. I'll be in my office -
catching up on my paperwork."
"Aye, sair." Chekov said, stepping up to take the chair.
"Have fun, sir." Uhura said wryly as Kirk passed her on
his way to the lift.
"Ms Uhura, please page me if anything comes up that
needs my attention. Anything at all."
"Understood, Captain." she said, and then the turbolift
doors shut off Kirk's view of her knowing smile.
Back in his office, he considered the piles of PADDs and
decided that it really was more important for him to catch
up on his overflowing inbox.
Halfway through his mail, having disposed of several
requests from various section and team heads for various
crew members to be placed on the list for promotional
examination, he spotted a name that was already there.
Lieutenant Larssen. He opened the message.
~Captain,~ it read, ~I respectfully request a personal
interview at your convenience.~
Kirk frowned. Larssen would no doubt be making a
complaint against - what had Pateman called him? -
Jerkoff Jack Whittaker. He would support her in any
action she wanted to take, but he couldn't help wondering
if she knew enough about Starfleet politics to understand
the implications for her own career. It was a sad truth
that even a successful complaint by a junior officer
against a highly placed one could delay promotion and
result in less desirable postings for the one who made
the complaint. Given that Larssen was female, and her
complaint would concern Whittaker's comments on her
sexual history, Kirk knew that salacious tongues would
wag and that Larssen might even find her grievance
treated cursorily by Starfleet.
He sent back an acknowledgment, a suggestion that they
meet to discuss whatever concerned her after they
discharged their passengers at Starbase 34 and laid in
course for Starbase 18, and a suggestion she seek advice
on the matter from another officer in the meantime -
Lieutenant-Commander Uhura, he suggested, could
possibly give Larssen the benefit of her experience - no,
scratch that. Lieutenant Commander Uhura might be a
suitable person to consult. Send.
Then he thought that he should have added something
about her hard work on the Starbase module repairs.
Usually, after any extra duty by a crew member, Kirk
took the next opportunity he spoke to them to mention it,
but any thought of Whittaker was so annoying he'd let
this chance go. He considered sending a postscript, and
then dismissed it. He'd remember to raise it next time
he saw her. She was back working in Lab 9, and no
doubt he'd run into her next time he had reason to
consult with Spock off-watch.
Five decks away, Larssen read through the message that
had just arrived at her terminal, keyed the
acknowledgment that cued the computer to schedule the
meeting in both her and the captain's calendar, and
flicked the screen back to the scientific article she was
reading. She hadn't realised how accustomed she had
become to the knowledge that any extra duties would be
noticed and acknowledged by her superior officers -
until the bald absence of any comment on the thirteen
hours she had spent crawling around in Cargo Bay 18.
~No doubt he forgot,~ she told herself. ~He's a busy
man. Busy people forget things. It doesn't mean
anything, anything about Whittaker, anything about Ann
Ridley, anything about anything. He's a busy man.
That's all there is to it.~
It was difficult to will herself to believe it, though. He
was, after all, Captain Kirk.
~Let it go.~ Larssen took a deep breath. ~Let it go, no
point borrowing trouble, there's nothing you can do.~
She sat still until the awareness of her breath, of the
hard stool on which she perched, of the ache in her
shoulders and the smooth glow of the bench before her
were the only things in her mind. ~You live in the
present. Don't get distracted.~
It was advice she'd have to follow for at least a week.
On Ser Etta Five, Larssen had felt gratitude to the
lessons she had learnt on Initar, for the first time. Up
to her knees in snowdrifts, if she'd allowed herself to
think of more than one step at a time she would have
surely surrendered to despair. Unlike Commander
Spock, who had the will-power to comprehend their
journey in all its unbearable effort and misery, and still
to face it, Larssen knew she had survived one minute
by one minute, pulling her sense of self away from the
past and the future and living only where and when she
was. ~Hope is not necessary if despair can be
deferred.~
Science Lab 9 was not somewhere she'd ever thought
she'd have to apply those lessons again, but as she
thought about seven days of anxiety Larssen once again
felt a bitter gratitude to the fate that had placed her on
the world of her birth.
Commander Spock had asked her about it once. She
couldn't remember now if she'd told him it was a hard
school, or only thought it. Not that it would make a
difference. Although the knowledge *she* had gained
from the mind-meld had dimmed into fragments of
dreams, Vulcans never forgot. It had not bothered
her, knowing that, after the first few days. It had not
bothered her -
Until Commodore Whittaker had appeared to remind her
of precisely what those memories of hers contained.
"Lieutenant."
Larssen started slightly, and turned. "Yes, sir."
"When may I expect your summary of that article?"
Three months ago, Larssen would have made an honest
estimation of the time she'd need, and told him.
Commander Spock had never shown any sign of being
worried by the fact that she was a turtle, rather than a
leopard, when it came to the theoretical side of her
work. Now she flushed and looked down.
"I'm hurrying, sir." she said quietly.
"That was not my question."
"No, sir. Tomorrow morning, sir."
He raised an eyebrow. "Very well." he said. "How is
your preparation for the examinations proceeding?"
"As well as could be expected, sir." she said.
Spock turned to go back into his office, but turned
back when Larssen raised her voice. "Sir." she said,
"May I ask you a question?"
"You may ask." Spock said precisely.
"Yes, sir. Sir, you've never sought command, or so I
believe?"
"That is correct."
"May I ask why not, sir?"
"It was a personal decision." Spock said, and Larssen
felt the full weight of the high value Vulcans' had
placed on privacy for the length of their recorded
history come down on her.
"Yes, sir." she said, mildly amazed at her own
presumption. "I beg your pardon, sir." She lowered
her eyes to the reader.
"Lieutenant." Spock said after a moment. "There is a
path through life that the Other sets for us, for each of
us alone. It is not always straight, and it is not always
easy - or easy to find. When one has found that path,
there is nothing for it but to follow it to its
conclusion."
"Yes, sir." Larssen said.
"I do realise that such an answer is hardly helpful."
Spock said dryly, and went back into his office.
"No, sir." Larssen murmured, smiling. Her smile faded
after a moment as she considered the commitment she'd
just made on the completion of her summary. Now she'd
have to stay up all night working on it. Larssen had
been planning to study for the exams tonight, as well.
"Rotting garbage," she murmured in Romulan.
In his office, Spock raised his eyebrow at the soft
imprecation. He had been able to see Larssen's place in
the reader over her shoulder, and unless she had either
completely altered her work speed or was merely re-
reading, he would have expected her to estimate a
completion time of some two or three days.
Ms Larssen had been behaving uncharacteristically since
her return from Vulcan. Spock hoped that this would
not affect her performance in the examinations at
Starbase 18. His own report, and that of the captain,
might persuade starfleet Command to overlook the
average result he anticipated Larssen achieving, but no
report could overcome an outcome that was significantly
below standard.
He put the matter from his mind, and turned back to the
sector reports that had arrived that morning. Among
other things, they detailed several shipping losses, far
from normal shipping routes but still within federation
space. Their common factor was a complete failure of
communication - no final message, no distress call, and
no jettisoned buoy. If they had been Starfleet vessels,
Spock would have considered this anomalous. However,
commercial and leisure vessels often operated to a
standard that was somewhat - lower - than that expected
of Starfleet. It was not unusual for even routine
occurrences to take civilian shipping completely by
surprise. He plotted the last known locations of the
missing vessels and found no pattern.
Flagging the computer to notify him of any similar - no,
the computer was still not up to the standard he would
prefer - any *other* shipping losses in the sector as
soon as they were reported, Spock turned to a new
article on the use of multiphasic field generators in bio-
crystal generation.
~Fascinating.~