by Chris Hechtl
The scientists and terraformers had it the worst. They had only minor shipboard duties to perform, most of them were to keep busy and to keep sane. A few took on additional duties to help out where they could, again to keep busy. Others started picking fights or became depressed.
In order to break the monotony and keep from going mad, Doctor McReese led a spirited debate group to review their findings. Attendance for the scientists was mandatory.
At first it was only open to the scientific community in the ship, but after a few discussions with the Captain, the good doctor reluctantly opened it to the ship's community at large. His reminder that everyone on the ship had a minimum of a bachelor's degree was annoying to the lead scientist. She thought of such people as amateurs until a few insights from a couple of the engineering techs made her rethink her position on the subject. After a few other people pointed out things her people had taken for granted or overlooked, she grudgingly admitted that the fresh eyes and minds were helpful.
They went over what they had found in each system, and when they were bored with that they did a peer review of the physics group's work. They were in over their head with the physics group but at least educated enough to spot any glaring errors.
One of the interesting sideline discussions they held was the wisdom of terraforming planets in a red or brown dwarf star system. Even if the planet resided in the star's habitable zone, it would have a sixty day year. That was far too short a time period for terrestrial ecosystems to adapt some insisted, though there was some debate over that.
As the scientists and those interested in terraforming debated, the captain fielded more requests to have children. He flat out refused; they only had so much life support on the ship. What extra they had was needed as a reserve in case of an emergency. Some of the ladies were put out over the decision but understood the need. They had signed on beforehand knowing that would be a problem and that they would have to wait to return to Sol to have a child. They also understood the argument that a cramped starship was no place to raise a family.
The crew could tell when the isolation was getting to one of their number when they began to become more and more withdrawn, their personal hygiene slipped, and they became increasingly quiet. The COB got on everyone's case about keeping up on hygiene, even the XO after he tried to grow a long beard.
Any heated arguments or fights were landed on hard by XO and the ship's single police officer. “Sheriff Rogers” was quite the character, dressing up as a cowboy. He had an easy way of talking that could diffuse tension. He was also an incredible singer who loved to play guitar for the ladies.
If the fight became physical, the XO landed on both parties with discipline. Usually it meant GI parties or KP duty in the mess or some other crap detail no one wanted to do. That was followed by counseling sessions with Doctor McDaniel, the COB, and or captain to get to the root of the problem if it continued to fester. The officers knew they needed to get to the bottom of it but they also knew that people needed to pop off. Some talked with their fists when they were distressed.
After the fourth fight between Bernard Shepard, an engineering mate, and Loren Jones, an electronics tech in the communication's department, the skipper called them in one at a time for a heart to heart.
He didn't get anywhere with Jones. Jones shrugged the situation off and kept repeating he didn't start it and pointed to Bernard. That left Bernard.
“What's going on, Mister Shepard,” the skipper asked, tenting his fingers together in front of him.
“I … he gets on my nerves. That grating voice, the crap he pulls,” Bernard snarled. Roy looked at him with concern. The skipper caught the cop's eye and nodded for him to leave.
“He's needling you?”
“Yes, no, I don't know,” the engineering mate said sullenly. “What does it matter?”
“Well, a stay in the brig and shit duty isn't getting you to wake up. And I don't suppose fining you will do any good,” the captain mused.
Bernard barked a laugh. “Like I can spend it anywhere! That's rich!” he said, shaking his head.
“True,” the captain said, slightly amused. “That does present us with a problem. I can't keel haul you, even though I'd love to,” he said, eying the man. Bernard suddenly froze. He stared at the captain. “Yes, that is right Mister Shepard, I am the captain,” the captain purred, voice growing cold. Bernard gulped. “I could have you spaced, but it hasn't come to that yet. So far, other than a few bumps and bruises you've managed to not kill anyone. Yet,” he said.
“Sir …”
“I'm tired of seeing you here. So, what is the problem?”
“I …” Bernard swallowed, clearly taken aback by the skipper's hard line warning. He'd never gotten into trouble before this flight but now everyone was tense. The ship stank, he hated it, and he was … he scowled. “Bored I suppose,” he mumbled.
“Bored?”
“Yeah,” Bernard admitted. He went on to gripe about being bored for a minute. “It's just day in day out routine. Nothing ever changes,” he finally said, winding down.
“Count your blessings.”
“Why?”
“The Chinese have a saying, may you live in interesting times. It is a curse. In the military soldiers and sailors enjoy the boredom. It may be monotonous, that's why we have the drills,” the skipper said, eying him. The engineering mate grunted. “To break up the tedium. To keep people on their toes and to remind them something can go wrong at any time.” He smiled. “I for one would rather have another dull day then one rather exciting one that ended with someone dead. Or worse, the ship,” he said, locking eyes with the tech.
Bernard winced but then slowly nodded as he thought about it.
“I know there is something more. The first fight three years ago was about a girl. Miss Parker I believe?” the captain asked.
Bernard scowled blackly at the bulkhead. He looked like he was fuming. “Yes, sir.”
“You thought of her as your property? I think I read that in one of the domestic complaints,” the captain asked, crossing his arms. “You two had words just before the fight according to Mister Roger's records.”
“Y … yes, sir,” the engineering mate ground out. “We were … we were having trouble getting along. We, I didn't know it at the time but that bas …” he paused when the captain's eyes flickered coldly. He caught himself and gulped again. He knew better than to talk ill of a shipmate. “I mean Mister Jones stole her from me,” he said.
“She isn't some property to pass around. She is a living person,” the captain said. “With needs and wants.”
Bernard didn't reply.
The captain studied him for a long moment and then sat back. He wished he could have another cup of coffee, but he had to adhere to the rationing program. He frowned thoughtfully. When the ship left port, everyone that could had partnered off. There were a few shake ups and break ups, but really no single's bar or dating scene. There were a few single people on board, he and the XO for instance, but not many of the fairer sex.
“Sir, there is … nothing to do. No one to be with to, you know, blow off steam,” Bernard said.
The captain nodded thoughtfully. He was clearly frustrated, upset that he had broke up with a partner of so long, and she had immediately found someone else. His attempts to hook back up had been rebuffed apparently, the captain judged. He couldn't blame some of the ladies, Bernard wasn't much of a catch. And the more he became depressed the more angry and slovenly he had become. There had to be a fix.
The Captain frowned, trying to think of an answer to the problem. Finally, reluctantly he came to a decision. It wasn't an easy one he thought, definitely a bit unorthodox. He hoped for his sake it never made the record books. “I can't believe I am saying this, but if you want your tubes cleaned that can be arranged you know.”
“Um …” Bernard had the grace to blush and look away. “It can? I wasn't going to … I mean …” he stumbled and then stopped.
“Go talk to Miss Irons. Tell her I sent you.”
“Cap, that's not … I mean …” His eyes were wide. “Besides, Chief Roak turned her into a nun. She hasn't …”
“She's been entirely too long on her best behavior you mean,” the captain said, realizing what he had to do. He didn't like it, but needs must when a ship's crew and sanity was at stake. “Well, she needs to loosen up. You need to loosen up. Wine and dine the lady, treat her right, and she'll do the same.”
“Um,” the tech laughed. It had a note of wonder and relief in it. “I can't believe the skipper of all people is setting me up on a date!” he said, then started slapping his knee as he laughed.
That got to Captain Peck as he chuckled. He knew that the laugh was good for the young man, good for his soul. “Yeah, it's a … difficult unorthodox decision. People need an outlet. But all I'm promising you is a date.” He held up a warning finger. “You've got to take it from there and treat the lady right. But if she says no, back off,” he warned, locking stern eyes on the tech.
Bernard nodded. “Aye, sir.”
-*-*-^-*-*-
On her way to work, Isley was hit on by the large tech. She was confused by the rather strong approach. Also put off by his odor, the man needed to shower and shave. He was nervous, he kept licking his lips and fumbling about with his hands. She put him off with the excuse that she had duty in an hour. She left him standing there staring at her.
When she got on shift in main engineering, Chief Roak pulled her aside and into her office. When she entered she realized it was going to be some sort of a counseling session with the COB. She nodded to Chief Heart as the chief closed the door behind her, and Chief Roak took her seat behind her desk.
“Uh oh, am I in trouble?” Isley asked warily.
“Why? Feeling guilty?” the COB asked with a look she couldn't interpret.
“Something tells me I should keep my trap shut before I get myself in any deeper,” Isley said, eying both ladies. The chief indicated she should sit on one of the stools. Warily she sat down next to Chief Heart.
She watched her boss drum her fingers on her battered desk blotter for a few seconds before the hard seat made her squirm a bit. Finally the chief's nostril's flared and she started in. “This is an odd situation. One we're not exactly comfortable talking with you about … Remember when we had that problem with the McDaniel …”
Isley held up her hands in surrender. “Chief, I've been an angel. A tin plated tight assed angel since then,” she protested. “All professional just as you ordered. Off duty I'm not with anyone. I've had invites but I've kept it friendly and in public.”
“We know that. That might be part of the problem,” the COB said in a strangled voice. She shook her head, eying the Chief. “God, this is hard. You try.”
“Right, dump it on me,” the chief muttered.
They told her she can stop behaving.
“Excuse me?”
“We need you to … let go.”
“Is that why Bernard just hit on me?” Isley asked, turning to point to the door. “Honest, I didn't invite it or anything. Not a wiggle, no flirting, all professional.”
The Chief pursed her lips, amused. The COB had the grace to blush. They took turns explaining the situation, the need for some of the crew to unwind and release their frustrations in a constructive way.
Isley was clearly unhappy. Her eyes glittered. “So, the ship's slut is off the leash?”
“I … I wouldn't put it that way. Not at all,” the Cob said, shaking her head. “We women can turn it on and off. Men well, can't.” She shared a half smile with the other two ladies. “And I, okay, you aren't the ship's slut. That is just … wrong.”
“Hippy. Free love and all that,” the chief said. “My great-granddad told me about that time period. I'm just glad we don't have a STD issue or pregnancy,” she said.
“It is more fun bareback,” Isley murmured. “I'm just not … thrilled about being the ship's go to gal. I mean …”
“What, after all this time now you are a tight ass?” the COB asked her as the chief came around her desk to sit on the edge of it closer to them. Isley glared. Chief Heart held up a restraining hand. “Okay, so that came out wrong. And yeah, hell of a thing for the skipper of all people to say you should do it. It puts us all in an ethical quandary.”
“Tell me about it,” Chief Roak muttered darkly. She eyed Isley. “It wasn't just the McDaniel that was the issue with me, you're an officer. Sleeping around with enlisted is frowned upon. And yes I know it's nothing personal with you,” she shook her head. “But there are reasons those regulations are on the books,” she said. Isley nodded grudgingly. “If you don't want to do it, feel free to say no,” she finished lamely. “I wouldn't blame you.”
Isley frowned, thinking the situation over. Everyone was wound tighter than a drum despite the attempts to unwind with the occasional party or occasion. Sometimes the tension could be cut with a knife. Everyone was worried about getting back home. Would the ship hold together for that long? Would they? Coming to a partial decision she inhaled a deep breath and then exhales slowly, as she gathered her thoughts on how to proceed. “Getting him to take a shower might help. And I'm not going to spread my legs for anyone. But I do miss it. I will admit that,” Isley said.
“Comfort?” the COB asked.
“Something like that.”
The chief snorted, then giggled. The other two ladies looked at her. When she slapped her hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles, the two blinked in surprise. “Sorry,” the chief said, swallowing hard. “I'm … god,” she said, shaking her head as she dashed tears with her fingers. “This situation, it is so unreal. I just thought of long trips like this in the future. Having a “comfort and welfare group” on board.”
“Guys too?” the COB asked, grinning. “Depends on what they look like. I wouldn't mind a hunk or two. Stacked and packed,” she said, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.
“Hubba hubba,” Isley agreed with her own snicker. That set all three of the ladies off.
When they recovered the chief patted Isley's shoulder. “Like we said, up to you. It would be a big help to the ship though.”
“No pressure,” the COB said when Isley opened her mouth.
“I'll see,” Isley finally said.
“Just that?”
“Just that,” Isley replied. “Don't make any demands and I won't make any promises. We'll see how things go.”
“Good enough.”
-*-*-^-*-*-
Isley had a bit of fun hooking up with Bernard. The man had been sweet, even picking up a flower from the ship's greenhouse to give to her. He'd been tentative but needy. She'd almost dumped him because his desperation had gotten on her nerves but eventually she'd given in and she'd done her duty.
It had been a bit of a relief to her as well, even though Bernard hadn't managed to hold off until she'd gotten hers. The man could pile drive she thought, wincing. Definitely a mercy fuck, she thought. The powers that be owed her she thought. It hadn't been all bad; they'd gone a couple rounds over the night then he'd settled down. He'd finally fallen asleep in her arms. She had done her best to let him down easy when Dorian had hit on her a couple of days later.
Dorian had been another dud that had annoyed her but wet her appetite for more. It was unfair that the guys were getting off but not being attentive enough to her needs. All of them were so wrapped up in their own little worlds … she shook her head in disgust. But she'd found the same problem when she'd tried the other side of the street. Of course, that had been partially Taz's fault. His damn timing at calling her broke the mood.
Then the muttering started up again; Doctor McDaniel of course was the source. Ever since their “affair,” doc had kept her husband on a tight leash. He'd been dutiful, mainly because she'd been all over him whenever he worked with another female coworker. Really, it was none of the doctor's business who she slept with. Okay, maybe it was in that it helped some of the crew … and
made a few jealous.
She had a fix in mind for the snide crap though. When she floated an offer to do a threesome with her and her husband, McDaniel had shut up. Sid however had looked intrigued. She'd snarled at him, and he'd backed off with a laugh. That seemed to have put her in her place though.
It took Isley a couple of weeks, but she finally found a couple partners who had the stamina to really go all night and the attention to detail to make sure she got what was coming to her on a regular basis. She wasn't the only one who was all smiles afterward. That helped to spread good cheer through the whole ship's company.
Chapter 38
When Icarus got to the area near the F class star, Anita reported a possible bridge sighting an hour before the dropped out of hyper. Some of the crew were a bit put out over dropping out of hyper instead of taking the bridge, but the skipper broke no arguments. “We need the fuel. We need the downtime to repair the ship and handle all the deferred maintenance,” he said over the PA during the morning address before break out. “Besides, I for one would like to see another star. And I am fairly certain Doctor McReese and her team would love to add more data to their databases,” he said with a mild twist of his lips.
After two weeks of refueling from a convenient snowball and doing as much maintenance as possible, the ship reentered hyperspace. She stuck to the lowest octave and drifted about until they found the bridge.
“Judging from the swirls it is an outgoing bridge,” Brock said, showing them the bridge and then highlighting a series of swirls in red. They could see them move away from the star.
“I still think that is wild. Moving away from the star,” Magnus said, shaking his head. “Is it going in our direction though?” he asked, looking at Wally.
“We'll need to follow it for a bit. Once we get enough bearings on it then we can draw a line and project its course,” Wally said. “The one contact we have isn't enough. But it is going in the general direction we want to go. Inward, towards the Orion arm along the Perseus transit and Orion spur.”
