The guard nodded. "Okay." He nodded back.
"Now you've done it," Jennie leaned over to warn him a while later.
He looked over to the opening hatch with the security Chief and sighed. "Great, just what I didn't need."
The Chief stormed in with the nail girl following. She looked smug, holding back slightly but within ear shot. "Just what the hell do you think you’re doing chewing people out?" she demanded. Molly paused in her discussion with a tech and looked over.
"What do you mean by that?" the Admiral asked mildly.
"I mean her!" The Chief pointed to the now grinning girl. "You had no right to waltz in and take over! And to be so rude!" she said. She waved one hand; the other remained on her pulser at her hip.
"You have a problem with my performance?" he asked tapping the controls.
"Yes! Pay attention!"
Molly cleared her throat. From her look she wanted to know what was going in. The engineer looked up then back to the Chief. "The young woman in question was not doing her job putting the ship at risk," he said. He met the chief's eyes coolly.
"I'll handle this Admiral," Molly said firmly. He stepped back as Molly came in between them, hands on her hips. "You have a problem with my department or my people you talk to me Chief," she looked the Chief straight in the eye.
"I don't interfere with your security personnel," She waved to the guards standing around. "You stay the hell out of my department." She adjusted her glasses. The Chief looked momentarily taken aback. "If that lazy cunt can't do the job as the Admiral reported, I'm sure we can find her something else to do," she growled. She looked over the shoulder to the girl who was visibly shrinking back, eyes wide. "Just off the top of my head, who's manning that station while you two are here?" Molly snarled. The girl flushed.
"Exactly, I didn't think so," she said, voice cold. She turned back to the Chief. "You see my problem? She leaves her station, doesn't do her work." She waved to the engineer. "Let the people who aren't lazy, who are doing the work alone. Go back to your own department." She waved to the door.
"Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out," Molly growled. The Chief stepped back nostrils flaring. The two guards exchanged looks. "Go on!" Molly waved.
The Chief shook her head. "Chief the Captain wants to talk to you., the overhead crackled.
"This isn't over," she said backing up.
"You're right. Unless you want me to start meddling in your affairs, then it better be," Molly tightened the sleeves knotted around her waist. She grimaced as the Chief exited then turned her glare on the nail girl. "Well? What the hell are you still doing here?"
The girl shrank back. "Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about you. I'll deal with you later," she growled. She waved to the door. "Go back to your post." The girl turned and ran out, sobbing. "Well, that was interesting," Molly said, voice returning to normal. She turned and sniffed. "Good god, do I really smell like that?" She plucked at her tank top neckline. The tank top was covered in sweat.
"I think she ran because of the smell," Jennie teased. Molly grimaced. "I didn't think you had it in you," Jennie said. She was shaking her head in wonder over the entire episode.
"I didn't think I had it in me!" Molly replied with a shaky laugh.
The Admiral studied her then nodded. "I'm glad some of that metal is starting to show through. We'll make a Chief engineer out of you yet,” he said. Molly grimaced.
"Good golly miss Molly," he muttered as he watched her snap her fingers to the guards and jerk her thumb up and out to tell them to leave.
Jennie doubled over as she giggled. "I can't believe you said that!"
He snorted. "Neither can I."
“Admiral, Molly, you, Jennie, Trisha, and a few of the others have coveralls, I was wondering where we can get some?” a voice in the back of the room asked. He looked over to the raven haired girl. “Susa right?” he asked. She nodded. “Well, each of you that wants a coverall can give your measurement's to Molly or the morale officer and ask for three to five sets of coveralls, and two sets of steel toed boots like mine.” He tapped his left foot.
“Do they have to have all the pads and pockets?” one of the other girls asked, wrinkling her nose. Molly hid a grin. “The pads are to protect your joints when you’re on your hands and knees, or when you’re handling something bulky. The pockets... well,” Irons shrugged. He fished out a couple tools from his breast pocket, put them back, and then ripped the velcro off his hip pockets to pull out parts. “The pockets as you can see come in handy.” He looked down at a part. “Hey, I was looking for that earlier!” he said. The girls giggled.
“The coveralls are also protected against electrical spikes and fire,” Jennie spoke up. “I've gotten most of my crew into them now. They identify us to the rest of the crew too,” she said smugly.
Susa nodded. She reached out and grabbed Jen's sleeve. “What's this stuff made of?”
“Fire, shock, plasma, and impact resistant polymer,” the Admiral replied.
“Fire resistant?” Molly asked, looking at her own coverall.
“Oh, that and more. It can even help with life support,” he replied.
She shook her head bemused. “Wow.” He chuckled at her expression.
"The Fleet tender, or support repair ship is shaped like a sword," he said. He turned to see the class looking bemused and confused. "Okay, a sword is a long pointy thing made of metal used before star flight." Some of the faces cleared. He drew a quick sketch on the computer tablet, then clicked enter. A sword shape projected and then rotated. He overlaid the ship's silhouette then scaled them to match. "See?" Some of the women nodded. "Support ships were designed to be utilitarian; they were designed to do a job far from home.”
He turned to the class. "You see, when you have a fleet of ships off on a mission, they can only support themselves with materials they carry or can replicate. But warship replicators are limited in size and scope, most of the space on a warship is needed for other things," he explained. He accessed the database and pulled up a light cruiser's silhouette, then placed it next to the tenders. "All right here we have a basic cruiser. Notice the differences?"
One of the women in the front raised her hand. "It's smoother, and smaller."
He nodded as the silhouettes rolled, then rotated. "Yes, warships are designed to fight and fly fast. Their hulls are armored to deflect incoming fire and sensors. It's also sculpted to allow it to transit higher hyper bands then this ship, so it can get to a hot spot faster," he explained. He nodded to a girl with her hand up. "Yes?"
"But why the hurry? And why can't we do that?" she asked. She waved to the image helplessly.
He chuckled. "Well, a support ship is designed to be protected. Light armor, light weapons, slow engines and hyperdrive. We have a lot of cargo space for goods, replicators, and processing modules," he replied.
She looked confused. "But if warships have replicators, why do you need cargo holds? Or support ships with replicators," she asked. Some of the other students murmured as well.
He nodded. "Good point. The reason is because somethings can’t be replicated, or take a long time to do so. And sometimes, you need it right away and can't wait," he replied and then smiled. "I believe we all experienced that recently last year when the cable to the hyperdrive failed right?" The students began to nod. "All right then. Cargo holds are also good to store products that have a short shelf life. Remember, we're far from the nearest star, and therefore only have what we carry with us."
He turned to the console and pulled up the files for his next lecture. "Cargo holds also serve as space for other things." He looked up. "Did you notice that the sickbay is pretty big for this ship?" he asked. They looked at each other, some nodding tentatively. "Support ships are built to take on wounded, or to provide medical support when only limited support is locally available,” he said. “More on that later...”
"Hey, look out, don't touch that!" he grabbed Mindy's hand and jerked it away from th
e open plasma conduit.
"OW! You’re hurting me! Let go! I was just looking!" she squealed indignantly. She jerked her hand away and rubbed it, looking up at him hurt.
He sighed. "Young lady, sticking your hand near that could have gotten you hurt or even killed. You work in the sickbay, you should know this!" Her bottom lip came up and out in a pout. She sniveled, and then ran down the corridor sobbing.
He shook his head and looked over to the guard with a bleak shrug. She shook her head in turn. "I'm not very good with kids I guess," he said. She just stared at the bulkhead. He sighed and dug into the kit. A half hour later the Chief came around the bend and stopped, hands on her hips.
"Mindy is around the corner nearby," Sprite informed him. He sighed and straightened as the Chief cleared her throat.
"Yes Chief?" he asked. He turned and gave her a look. She was standing there, hands on her hips. Correction, one hand on her hip, the other tapping her pulser.
"I have a report that you assaulted nurse Mindy?" she was clearly enjoying this. He gave the guards a look. No help there.
"No ma'am, the young lady was sticking her hand into an open conduit. I stopped her. Had I not she would have killed herself and possibly caused damage to the ship. We're in hyper and this...” he pointed his thumb over his shoulder to the conduit. "Feeds the main deflector," he explained.
The Chief paled a little, swallowing. "Be it as it may, I'm going to have to confine you to quarters."
Tara cleared her throat. They both looked at her. "Ma'am, He's telling the truth. Mindy was playing with the conduit when we arrived. I was going to stop her but he beat me too it," she said.
The Chief gave her a long look. "You’re on report," she said coldly.
Tara scowled and then came to attention. "Excuse me then." She turned to leave.
"I didn't say you could leave," the chief said, icily. The guard froze. The Chief was not looking at her, still staring at the Admiral.
"I don't care anymore what you say," Tara growled.
At that the chief did turn, eyes suddenly afire. "You’re out of line," she hissed it.
The guard’s lips quivered. "Maybe, but so are you. That kid was going to get herself killed and us with her. You know it, but you can't get your head out of your ass long enough to see that!" She snarled.
The Chief's nostril's flared and she half drew her pulser. The guard had her hand on hers. "Try me you stupid paranoid bitch," she whispered. The other guard looking slack jawed tried couldn't hear it. The Admiral with his enhanced hearing did.
"Don't test me Tara," the Chief whispered back.
Tara's eyes met hers and held firm. "I'm not. I'm warning you. Knock it off. The crew is getting angry at your needless crap," Tara snarled back. The other guard gulped. She'd heard that.
The words were striking home with the Chief, or she was realizing she had an audience. "Get out of my sight; I'll deal with you later," the chief said. Tara shook her head. Her hair danced.
"I think I'm putting in for a transfer with the Captain," she said.
The Chief's nostrils flared once more. "You can't do that."
Tara gave her a sad look. "I can't work like this Emily, I won’t. He's done nothing wrong, and hurting him because you can't or won’t figure that out is wrong,” she stared into her eyes. Both of them had loosened their grips on their guns.
"Go," the Chief said. Tara turned and nodded to the Admiral as she passed. Defender spun his shields down. He had been so focused on the argument, he hadn't noticed Defender had initiated. The Chief gave him a long look, then left. He could hear Mindy asking why she didn't arrest the mean man. The Chief snarled to her to get back to work.
"Well, that was interesting. Shall we?" he nodded to the remaining guard.
The Chief came into the Captain's wardroom, head down scowling. "Grams, I have a problem..." she looked up to see Tara standing there. "You bitch," she snarled, eyes smoldering. Her hand lashed out, slapping her.
Tara recovered slowly, eyes smoldering she reached for her gun but the crack of a palm on the desk stopped her cold. "Draw and you go out the nearest airlock," the Captain's commanding voice cut through the rage. The Chief kept her glare, hand on her pulser. "Both of you," the captain's hoarse growl pierced her rage like a knife. She turned in shock to the Captain. "I've had enough of this crap. Tara, transfer approved. You’re in KP and on my shit list until otherwise. Turn your security gear in to Frie and get out of my sight," the captain said. Tara came to attention then stiffly walked out. "And as for you granddaughter..."
"You’re relieved," she said coldly. The Chief was stunned. Her grandmother looked at her coldly. "I told you three times to back off."
"But..."
"Silence," the one word was enough to shock the woman further. Her eyes were wide. "Apologize to the Admiral, then report to the doctor. I want a full medical evaluation. IF he clears you, you’re going to do scut work for a week," she growled. Her granddaughter's lips quivered. "I don't know what got into you granddaughter, but it's time it ends. Now you’re going to have to work to get back in my good graces."
“Captain, can I speak with you privately?” the doctor asked as he looked out of her view screen. She sighed then motioned for Charlie to leave. The woman left without a word. “What is it doctor; I'm assuming it has something to do with my granddaughter?” she asked, dreading the call. He nodded.
“Well doctor, don't keep an old woman waiting,” she sighed. “Give it to me straight.”
He sighed. “I wish it was that simple. I did a medical evaluation, there are some hormonal issues, but I don't think they're the root problem. I sedated her and did a little digging into her subconscious with hypnotics. She has some issues,” he said. He looked uncomfortable.
“What sort of issues?” the Captain asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Well, apparently she had been... abused as a child.”
The Captain inhaled sharply. “I never!”
He held up a restraining hand. “No, not by you Captain, a male. Someone that looked a little like the Admiral. He... well...” he shrugged helplessly.
The Captain closed her eyes in sudden understanding. “I understand now,” she said slowly.
“Can you help her?” she asked, and then opened her eyes.
He studied her. “The hormonal repair is already underway. Her behavior though...” he grimaced. “According to the medical records we've put together she needs tranquilizers and therapeutic counseling,” he explained. The doctor sat back and set a tablet down in front of him.
The Captain nodded. “Do it, my authorization. Do what you can doc,” she ordered. He nodded and signed off.
"Can I be in your hyperspace class?" Shandra asked, toying with her stylus. He wasn't sure if she was mocking him or not. The meeting was going a lot smoother now that the chief was no longer in the picture. Scuttlebutt said she was in sickbay for some reason.
The Captain looked over. "Class on hyperspace?"
The Admiral cleared his throat. "Just the basics, how it works, how to navigate in it."
She nodded. "When?"
He smiled. "1900 Captain."
She nodded. "I may just drop in for that." Her gravelly voice was light and almost lilting. She had a small smile. Shandra looked over to her and then smiled too. "Yeah, I could always use a brush up." The Captain nodded sounding thoughtful.
He looked over the wardroom and smiled. Most of the off duty bridge crew was there, as was the Captain. Shandra was seated out front near the desk. "All right, before I begin, I'm going to tap Shandra here to be my assistant," he said with a smile. A few murmured at this, he picked up an undercurrent of jealousy. He nodded to her uncertain face.
"The lecture I'm about to give is on file, with notes in the ship's class website. Ask the moral officer for help if you can't find it," he said. Some of them leaned over and took notes on padds.
"Okay, remember when I said all objects are made of matter, and all matter has mass, and therefore
exerts gravity?" he said diving right in. Many in the class nodded. He picked up a membrane from the desk and handed it to Shandra. She looked confused. "Hold it with both hands outstretched," he murmured. "So they can see it." She got up and did so.
He turned and picked up a small model of the ship. "Here we are. The membrane Shandra is holding represents normal space time." He put the model in the center of the membrane. The membrane stretched, and model sank. "Okay, the model displaced a part."
He looked around some were craning their necks to see. Shandra looked around, and then pivoted, turning so each could see. "As you can see, the ship's mass displaces space around it," he explained. He went over to the holo projector and pulled up a graphic of the membrane. "Now the more mass an object has, the more space it distorts," he said. He switched to a star, showing it, then others.
"And that distortion is carried over into hyperspace," he said continuing. Shandra looked up and over her shoulder at the hologram. "Hyperspace means we are folding normal space to move through it." He went over to her took the model out of the pocket and let the membrane settle. “Now in normal space we would have to travel this entire distance..."
He moved the model from her left to her right hand. "Now in hyperspace..." She pulled her hands together, forming the membrane into a sine wave. "Yes, as Shandra demonstrates, in hyper we fold space for the ship to transit." He clicked the remote for the projector and it changed to the graphic. "As you can see, the higher the band, the more bends." He looked around the class.
"But so too does the effect of mass effect the bands." Another click and the class oohed as a ball distorted the image.
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