"I will not tolerate further interference!"
Whittaker's voice was high and shaking with rage.
"You have denied me access to the refugees - access
which I *need* to carry out this investigation - you
give me no information -Kirk is nowhere to be found -
I insist you give me a report, Mr Scott!"
"Sair, I'm carrin' out the orders the Captain left
me." Scotty said. He tried not to fidget in the
centre chair, which felt far too small and not nearly
as comfortable as it looked. "I cannae tell ye any
more, sair."
"This is an outrage!" Whittaker said. "This is
unacceptable! The Admiralty will hear about this! I'm
warning you, Mr Scott, there are people in the
Admirably who take my opinion very serious, very
seriously indeed! If you want to see your career come
to a dead halt here and now, just carry on the way
you are! Just carry on! Because you can take it from
me, if I don't start to get some co-operation then
I'll take this all the way to the top!"
"Aye, sair, as you feel necessary." Scotty said. "In
the meantime, the captain's given me his orders and I
intend to carry them out." Whittaker, in Scotty's
opinion, had the flanges on his distribution unit
loose. His narrow face was hard enough to trust, let
alone the man was taking issue with the orders
Himself had left to the crew.
"I will continue my investigation." Whittaker said,
drawing himself up to his full height. "And I will be
sending a full report to Starfleet Command, Mr Scott!
Of this incident *and* all the rest."
"I'm sure ye'll do as ye see fit, sair." Scotty said.
He watched Whittaker stride to the turbolift and
disappear, but his exit did nothing to relieve the
tension on the bridge. Iyen was twisting his feelers
into tighter knots than Scotty had ever seen and
Athende was a constant seething mass of motion as he
coiled, tapped, and intertwined his tentacles.
"Just everybody settle down." Scotty said, miserably
aware of the sweat spreading across his back. "Ye'd
think the captain had niver been away from the ship
before!"
That got a brief laugh, and the tension lifted.
Slightly.
Whittaker, taking the lift down to crew quarters on
lower deck, felt none of the anxiety and concern that
had settled over the ship like early morning mist.
Quivering with indignation and mentally rehearsing
his report, he strode down the corridor without
hesitation. ~Mr Scott refused - no, Mr Scott
deliberately refused an order and - insolently?
Insubordinately? Which of those is better?~
Thus pleasantly occupied, he was at the door he
sought before he knew it. Pressing the chime, he
strode in as the door opened without waiting for an
invitation.
"Ah, you would be Chief Engineer Madison." he said.
"If you say so." Madison said.
Whittaker looked him over, unconscious of the slight
sneer that lifted the corner of his mouth. ~Typical
spacer, this Madison. Type seen all over the
merchant fleet, and not uncommon among the lower
ranks of Starfleet. No education, no family
background, no breeding, just brute strength and
dexterity. A useful type, if you know how to handle
them.~ Normally, of course, Whittaker only dealt
with these sort of men when they were among First In
crew, and there he knew very well that a firm hand
was what was needed, but Madison wasn't under his
command. He was just a civilian, and no doubt had all
the associated self-importance. He'd need a
different approach.
Whittaker smiled in what he judged to be a man to man
manner. "So, Mr Madison, I understand you were crew
on the Lady Grace?"
"That's right." Madison said. "And it's Chief,
actually. Chief Madison."
"Chief Madison, of course, of course. Mind if I sit
down?" He sat before Madison could speak.
"Suit yourself."
"Now, Chief Madison, I presume you've been informed
that the Lady Grace was jettisoned as unsalvageable
under the order of Captain Kirk."
"I'd heard that, yeah."
"Terrible thing, terrible. Let a handful of
inexperience crew run the ship into the ground and
then throw it away as if she didn't matter. Sorry
end for a fine vessel." Madison just looked at him,
and Whittaker rushed on, "Now, you might not have
heard, but I'm investigating the matter - the whole
mismanagement of the affair by Enterprise crew and by
Captain Kirk. You and I, I think we can help each
other."
"Oh, yeah?"
~Really, these lower decks types are insufferable
when not kept in their place.~ This fellow Madison,
just sitting there expressionless as if he,
Whittaker, needed to justify his presence!
"I understand it was Lieutenant Larssen, Lieutenant
Corrina Larssen, who was responsible for the
destruction of the Lady Grace."
"She was officer of record. I dunno about
'responsible for the destruction of.'" Madison said.
"To put it another way, the Lady Grace was *her*
responsibility. *She* was in charge."
"She was in charge, yeah."
"Well, you see, Madison, you're in luck. Because
Lieutenant Larssen's negligence might have been
covered up by Starfleet if I hadn't been here.
Captain Kirk has a reputation for hiding any flaws on
the part of his crew, and it would have been your
word against the word of a decorated hero and the
youngest captain in the Fleet!"
"Sounds bad." Madison said.
"It would be, my man, it would be! But, by good
fortune, I was on the Enterprise when the emergency
squirt was received and I was witness to the whole
thing! And by even more good fortune, for you, I
know a few things about Lieutenant Larssen. I
remember her when she was just a cadet. I won't let
Captain Kirk protect her over this, and when you put
her incompetence on the lady Grace together with her
record, well, I don't think there'll be any
difficulty proving to Starfleet Command where
responsibility for the loss of the Lady Grace lies!"
"Not with the people who tore out life support and
lit fires on the decking, then?"
"That would never have happened if Larssen had done
her job!"
"I see." Madison said, and Whittaker took that as
agreement. The commodore leaned forward and lowered
his voice confidentially.
"Just between you and me, Chief Madison, given
Larssen's record I'm not surprised at the mess she
made of things here. You know, at Starfleet Academy
she had a reputation as - well, let's just say as
liking a good time more than the next girl, shall we,
and leave it at that? In fact, she *was* the good
time, you might say! I wouldn't be surprised if
proper procedures slipped her mind on the Lady Grace
because she was - ahem, *too* *busy*, if you see what
I mean."
Madison looked at him with the same blank, distant
expression, and Whittaker felt the first prickles of
unease through the fog of his self-satisfaction.
"No." Madison said. "You'll have to spell it out. I'm
just a stupid fucking engineer, I am, and I'm not
good with those whatchacallums, 'double ont-ondrys'.
And that was one of 'em, wasn't it? You're trying to
say that Larssen was probably too busy screwing her
brains out when we were in departure count to worry
about the ship without just coming out and saying it,
aren't you?"
Realising that Madison had somehow gotten to his
feet, Whittaker scrambled up too rather than be
forced to look up. "I was trying not to be crude,
Chief Madison."
"Oh?" Madison said. He came a little closer, and
Whittaker backed into the desk. "And now, let me
fucking guess. You'd like to suggest that if I were
to remember anything like that, it might have a
beneficial effect on my ability to collect
compensation for the loss of the ship, is that
right?" He leaned forward and put his arm around
Whittaker's shoulders. "Is that fucking right?"
"Her career is over at any rate, Madison." Whittaker
said. "There's no need you should suffer unnecessary
-"
The blow took him completely by surprise. Madison's
fist doubled, drew back, drove forward into
Whittaker's stomach all in one blurred movement,
leaving the commodore bent double and gasping. The
arm around his shoulder was suddenly a steely grip on
the back of his neck, pulling him upright again. In
terror, Whittaker looked up at Madison's face and saw
that the brute was smiling.
"Officers like you shit me, Commodore." Madison said
conversationally, dragging him to the door. "I'm no
fucking fan of Captain Kirk's, but if it comes down
to a decision between you and him I don't reckon I'd
have too much trouble."
"You - you - you *struck* me!" Whittaker said, and
Madison realised as he shoved the commodore through
the doorway that the commodore was truly amazed. "How
*dare* you? How *dare* you!"
Whittaker's neck was one of those thin, scrawny
officer's neck that just cried out for breaking.
Madison found his hands rising without conscious
volition, and barely heard his own snarl. ~He
deserves it,~ a voice said in his head, the voice
that kept him awake at night. ~You could do it,
easy, he's just like all the other sheltered
Starfleet officers who can't find their own arse
without instructions in triplicate and a team of
security officers to read them. Just reach out, so
easy, just reach out and *do* it.~
The commodore looked in Madison's eyes and turned and
ran. Madison stood in the doorway staring at his
hands raised up before him. The door tried to shut,
brushed against him and automatically withdrew again.
After a moment, it tried again. A low tone sounded.
On the third try, the computer said, "You are
obstructing the doorway. Please step forward or back.
You are obstructing the doorway. Please step forward
or back. You are obstructing -"
Madison stepped backwards into his quarters and let
his hands drop to his sides. Whittaker's rabbity face
swam before his eyes. Stupid fucking fool, careerist
and snide bastard that he was, killing him was hardly
Madison's business. It wouldn't exactly sit well
with Captain fucking Kirk, either, strangling a
ranking officer on board the Enterprise.
~I'm not usually such a Gods-be-damned fuckwit,~
Madison thought, touching the amulet at his neck.
~Mitch was the sensible one, but I was never a
complete dickhead.~
~What the fuck was that about?~