From: MFielding@aol.com
Date: Thu, 5 Jun 1997 14:26:19 -0400 (EDT)
Subject: USS CHESAPEAKE: Non-Grace under Fire and Other Such

SD 90605.1634

----------------
CSciO's Quarters
----------------

MD 6.2330

	What to do now was the main problem, decided Anne Murray, 
sitting down at her desk.  She tried to access some data from the 
Science Department, then found that she got an obnoxious error message.

	The Comp Sci kids, probably.  She frowned and activated her
comm badge.

	"Murray to Fielding."

	[Yes, what's up?]

	Fielding sounded artificially sweet and solicitous, as if
consciously trying to sound normal.

	"There seems to be a problem accessing department information
from my quarters, Derek.  Can you get the Comp Sci kids away from
the computer access files, please?"

	[They're not anywhere near those files, Anne,] said Fielding.

	"How would you know if you don't go look?" demanded Anne.
Really, Fielding was becoming a bit much to handle these days,
balking at every one of her orders.  Then she paused... perhaps,
he did have his reasons.

	[Because *I'm* accessing them right this minute,] answered
Fielding calmly.

	"Very well, then.  Please fix the problem."

	[Aren't you off-duty?]

	"How... well, yes, but..."

	[Then that means you're not supposed to do any work on the
data we have, anyway.]

	"Maybe, but..."

	[I'll handle it, Anne.  I promise I won't drop the notes in
a puddle.]

	"Puddle?  WHAT puddle?" Anne was beginning to feel a bit sick.
What had happened *this* time?

	[It was a figure of speech... go to sleep, Anne.  It's not
healthy to sound the way you do.]

	"I may be off-duty," retorted Anne, "but I think I still have
my rank, Lieutenant JUNIOR GRADE Fielding... now gimme back my computer
access, you little..."

	[*You* may be my superior officer,] returned Fielding with
something that suggested he had had practice in such arguments, [but
one, you're off-duty; and two, I'm *older* than you are.  You're not
getting Science Department access back until you're good and ready.
And if you think I'm going to let you 'rest' by reading reports, then
I'm going to *tell* on you...]

	Oops, that had been a bad move.  Fielding looked instinctively
at his comm badge; the line had gone suddenly dead.  He shrugged.  He
would have to remember that she was an adult.  The way she'd been 
behaving, he sometimes forgot, or chose to forget...

	He shook his head.  Maybe she'll go to sleep soon.  And 
tomorrow?  He figured that he could plead other business if she 
snagged him tomorrow.

		*****		*****		*****

----------------
CSciO's Quarters
----------------

MD 7.0900

	Anne had been up for nearly four hours, and she was tired of
sitting around in her quarters.  She could do a lot of things, of
course, and thinking would probably have been a good idea... but she
wasn't fond of pain.  No... she needed something to *do*.  She picked
up the notes that she had taken the night before concerning the Delta
Corellian society.  She glanced at it, then gave up when she realized
that she had read it at least ten times already that morning.

	How can one get so *bored* in just four hours? Anne wondered.
She was beginning to understand why Catherine had seemed so unhappy
about her vacation the past two days.

	But a vacation, the pessimistic part of Anne's mind reminded 
her, is quite different from being... well, from *this*.  Pull myself
together?  Who am I kidding?  What am I supposed to be *doing*...
thinking about what's happened?  Thinking about what's supposed to
happen next?  *What*?  And to talk to the Counselor... *again*?  How
many times does that make now... three?  Goodness gracious, that's even
*worse* than Kevin Mallory...

	Thoughts swirled around her, seeming to crush her with their
intensity.  She put her head down on her desk, hoping that they would
go away and bother someone else...

	"...I might have to take you off the bridge someday, Lieutenant 
Murray.  I might have to declare you unfit for duty..."

	"..It's a big responsibility to work on the bridge, and I think 
maybe you need some time to... grow up..."

	"...This will probably be temporary.  As soon as I 
can be sure that you won't fall apart on the bridge, I can get your 
bridge clearance re-instated..."

	"...In short, this is by no means a long-term arrangement..."

	"...the *rest* of us will have to put up with your becoming a 
zombie every other day..."

	"...I need to know if you'll be where we need you to

be or if you'll take the first escape pod out and abandon ship..."

	"...My job, as Counselor, is to make sure that you don't go 
around kidding yourself..."

	Then, thankfully, all was blackness and oblivion.

		*****		*****		*****

MD 7.1200

	The cold sausage and mushroom gravy that appeared when Anne
pressed the "random lunch selection" button on the replicator just
about matched her mood.  Fielding had been and gone... and now, she
had to live with her big mouth and short patience.

	Working with Ensign Sereh was quite... interesting as it was.
To have her as head of the Biological Sciences Division would be
quite a... a...

	Anne was at a loss for words.  It wasn't that she *disliked*
Ensign Sereh, as such... it had more to do with the fact that the
Vulcan was so... *efficient*.  She felt as though she were a slob next
to her, which probably was true.  Worse, she knew that Ensign Sereh
would make a great addition to the Biological Sciences.

	*That* was what had been killing her the past quarter-hour.
Much as she hated to admit it, Ensign Sereh would be a good division
head.  Her work ethic seemed quite sound, she had ideas for how the
science students should receive their education, and she had years
of experience in the Science Department.

	She would be an improvement over "Stevie" Stenford, anyway...
the Vulcan hybrid had done little except seeing to minor skirmishes
in his division; he hadn't even been the one to find the runaway
rabbit two nights ago.  Ensign Sereh would probably have had the
bunny in a cage and learning how to sing arias within the hour.

	If rabbits were capable of singing arias, of course, which
they weren't.

	Anne chewed the cold lump of sausage thoughtfully.  At least,
she mused to herself, Fielding had kept his word.  He *was* making
good use of his (temporary, she told herself) powers as her stand-in.

	Or was that sit-in?

	Federation English was just as confusing as anything else she
had tried to think of all morning.  Anne shrugged and speared another
piece of sausaage.  At least *one* thing was certain for her at the
moment.  She would have to get a hot lunch in about an hour, or she
would never be in a good mood today.

Respectfully submitted,

Masako Goto
LT Anne Murray, Ph.D.
CSciO
USS CHESAPEAKE NCC-31813
MFielding@aol.com

<<NRPG>>

Amy: I *think* she's trying to pull herself together <nervous look at
     Anne> I also figured off-duty meant No Work on Important Data.
     Hope I wasn't mistaken...

Amy, James: Though it's fait accompli, thanks for letting me use some
            of your lines.  :) ::duck::

Takako: Watching too much "Doraemon" can give one very odd ideas...

Melvin: I might have mentioned this before (sorry... multiple threads
        on multiple ships got confusing for just one day...), but
        we have clearance to transfer Sereh whenever and however, so
        you can probably assume that she's in Science maybe as early
        as MD 7 or 8, MD 9 at the latest.

Lynnaea: Thanks for the multiple quotes idea.. yup, that made quite
         an impact on me.

Fabian: So let me get this straight... there are *two* competent
        pilots in the entire department???  Just kidding... I'm sure
        that Oz is a good pilot, too.  Glad to hear he's on his way
        back to Post-dom.  :)

Chris: Hope you get back on-line soon!  Anne and I both miss you!
       (well, to be strictly honest, Anne misses Catherine.  <G>)

James: Are you well-rested today?  Hope you're not overwhelmed
       by all your ships... happy writing!  :)

Naomi: Hi!  Hope all is well with you!


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