Datarecord: 2/12, 2ndry adjunct unimatrix 07 (pending reassimilation/reclassification)
One of the good things about being buddies with a high-up in Starfleet's Experimental Engineering division is this: if you should happen to get your starship a little bit bent or broken - and it's amazing how often that seems to happen, despite my best intentions - you can get it patched up, not only good as new, but sometimes better than before.
"So OK," I say to the tall, scarred Andorian */*species 4464*/* woman standing beside me on the bridge of the Falcon, "explain what this doohickey does again, will you?"
Tylha Shohl fails to hold back a sigh. "The Nukara particle converter," she says patiently, "interfaces with your EPS grid to buffer your shields and particle generators, and boosts your targeting scanners to improve weapon accuracy. It also ties in to your new weapons systems - the tetryon banks and the web mines - and, with those improved targeting scanners, it can set off secondary tetryon pulses that you can aim at other enemy ships in range -"
"Oh, trick shots? I can get behind that idea."
"I guessed you probably could," says Tylha. "We tried it out first on the Bleak Midwinter - converted Breen cruiser -"
"Hold on. Tholian tech and a Breen ship? Talk about running hot and cold."
Tylha nods. "Luckily, we had a lot of experience with the Jolciot polystable alloys for countering thermal stresses -" She carries on in this vein for some time. Tylha has a couple of Jolciots */*species 17116*/* on her crew, they're squat purple creatures who talk too much. Apparently, they're also very good at engineering, but I really don't need to know the details, so I smile and nod and go to my happy place for a bit while Tylha explains.
*/*assimilation of multiple technologies improves efficiency and creates positive synergistic effects---biological and technological distinctiveness should be added to the collective endeavour*/*
Shove off, Two of Twelve. This is my happy place. Get your own.
"Sorry?" says Tylha.
"Oh, God. Out-loud voice? Two of Twelve was acting up, sorry." Tylha at least sort of understands about the remnants of my Borg self, left over from my assimilation. "Anyway, yeah. Speaking of Borg...?"
"Oh, right," says Tylha. "We've added the omnidirectional cutting beam and some Borg assimilated modular tech... you should get some good results out of those." Since the good results Tylha gets with that cutting beam include disembowelling a Romulan */*species 3783*/* battleship during the defence of Andoria, I'm kind of liking that bit.
"So," I say, "cutting to the chase - how close are we to being done, here?"
Tylha smiles. "Just a bit of clearing up to do, making sure your crew are all checked out on the new - doohickeys - and we're out of here. I'll be glad to get back aboard King Estmere, to be honest."
"Oh, you've finally got that one out of drydock?" Tylha normally flies the King Estmere, a converted Tholian carrier, but that ship's been in spacedock for refits for months, relegating her to the Spirits of Earth, an upgraded Andorian Charal-class... come to think of it, that's not what I'd call relegation, much.
"We've finally got the weapons mix right, I think," Tylha says. "The heavy disruptor cannons were effective, but their firing arc is too narrow - even with the same enhanced RCS arrays we've used on the Falcon, King Estmere only turns at a hair over fifteen degrees per second, so wide-angle beam arrays and banks are a better option. We installed plasma weapons with Romulan Republic tech, but I'm not too sure, still, about some of the synergistic effects of the secondary systems -" Happy Place Time for little Ronnie, again, I think.
Then the bridge doors hiss open and someone comes in, someone I don't recognize - one of Tylha's people, I think, she doesn't look nearly harassed enough to be one of mine. She's a medium-tall Vulcan */*species 3259*/* woman, with dark hair in an elaborate updo, and piercing grey eyes. I wouldn't pay much attention to her, really, except that Commander Saval, my Vulcan science officer with the extravagant side whiskers, narrows his beady little eyes and stands up when she comes in.
"T'Shomep," he says.
"Father," she replies. There's not much in this galaxy surprises me, but I do honestly feel my jaw dropping a bit at that one. I see Tylha's eyes widen, too.
"You are well?" Saval asks.
"Yes," says T'Shomep.
"Hold on, hold on, hold on," I say. "First off, I can't handle all these torrents of Vulcan emotion, the tearful family reunion, it's all so beautiful it makes me want to spit. Second off, seriously?"
Saval and his daughter both blink at me for a second or two. "Lieutenant T'Shomep is my daughter," says Saval. "I assume, sir, that you are being somewhat facetious."
"Well, maybe," I say. "Just maybe. Even so, you've got to admit, it's quite some coincidence."
"It is not entirely a coincidence," says T'Shomep. "Naturally, I have followed my father's career with interest, and accounts of his activities made me aware of the Experimental Engineering group. It seemed a logical sphere of activities in which to employ my talents."
Tylha is still looking bewildered. "Maybe I'm no good at judging Vulcan ages," she says, "but -"
"Oh, Commander Saval was with me on my last trip to the Stygmalian Rift," I say. "We all got time-warped twenty-four years into the future that time. Makes for complications, that sort of thing."
"Adjustments were necessary in our family life," says T'Shomep.
"I'll bet they were," I say. "Could be worse... could be Tallasa having a family reunion instead...." I peer vaguely around the bridge. "Come to think of it, I thought it was quiet. Where is Tallasa?"
My long-suffering exec is nowhere to be seen. Her sister Jhemyl is at the helm station as usual... now I look, the bridge is looking a bit empty and depleted. No Tallasa - and the engineering station is just manned by an ensign I don't know. Leo Madena, whose name I have finally learned to remember, is on comms as usual....
"Commander Tallasa is station-side on a two-day pass," says Saval.
"She's showing Commander Ysrip around Earth Spacedock," Jhemyl adds.
Right, so that accounts for one of my senior engineers.... "Waitaminute," I say. "You mean Tallasa and Ysrip are on a date?"
Jhemyl quirks an eyebrow at me; if it wasn't for the blue skin and antennae, I'd swear she was a Vulcan. "She's just showing him around," she says.
"Yeah, right. All the coordinates, I bet."
Tylha shakes her head. "You humans," she says.
"Humans are weird about relationships," says Jhemyl. "Obsessed. Did you know one of their continental capitals has an entire huge building for having extra-marital affairs in?"
"Oh," says Tylha. "That place in, where is it, Uashintondeesee? I always wondered why it was that shape. Makes sense, now."
"Uh," I say helplessly, "what?"
"They even call it the Pentagon," says Jhemyl.
"Waitaminute." I think this conversation is getting away from me. "The Pentagon? In Washington D.C.? Is that the place you're talking about?"
"Why else would you build a five-sided building?" asks Tylha.
"Humans," says Jhemyl. "They have no shame."
"But it -" I say, "it's - it's not that. It's a, uh, it's a military command centre -"
"Oh, right," says Tylha in tones of deep sarcasm. "Because humans are such a galaxy-famous warrior species."
I look at Tylha, then at Jhemyl, then at Tylha again. It pains me to admit it, I'm still no good at reading Andorian expressions. Both of them have completely straight faces - but their antennae are twitching like anything - but I don't know for sure what that means. I'm about twenty percent suspecting it's a genuine cultural misunderstanding, and eighty percent sure my leg is being pulled so hard it's going to come off at the hip.
I decide it's time to beat a dignified retreat. "I'm going down to main engineering," I announce. "I'm going to see what they're up to down there."
I'm sure I hear Andorian sniggering as I march off the bridge.
---
Main Engineering seems pretty quiet, too. A couple of ensigns are moving around doing engineering-type things with doohickeys - possibly new ones, possibly ones I just haven't paid attention to before. Well, there's no point me starting to pay attention to doohickeys at my time of life. I grab a passing ensign and ask, "Where's Ahepkur?"
"Oh," says the ensign. "Um, I think she's with Commander Ada in the engineering office, sir."
Considering my Klingon */*species 5008*/* chief engineer's attitude to her android */*species designation irrelevant*/* assistant, this is not necessarily good news. So I trot along to the engineering office with a few qualms... and I pick up an extra qualm or two when the door fails to slide open at my approach.
I listen out for a moment, and hear faint sounds, like movement and muffled voices. Are they fighting in there? I hesitate for a second, then thumb the door's control panel, overriding the lock with my biometric signature. There is a hiss -
"Shut that damn door!" shrieks Ahepkur's voice.
I have a moment to take in the tangle of bare limbs on the engineer's desk, the two discarded uniforms lying on the floor. Not fighting, then. Physical activity, but definitely not fighting.
"I'll leave you two to it, then," I say with as much composure as I can muster - which isn't much - and I back out.
I lean against the corridor wall for a minute or two and try to marshal my thoughts. While I'm still marshalling, the door opens again, and Ahepkur steps out, wearing a sheepish expression and a uniform that's evidently been put back on in a hurry.
"Sir," she says, and stops dead. "Sir, I -" she tries again. "I have no excuses," she says at last.
"You've changed your attitude towards androids, then," I say, this being the first thing that comes into my head.
"The machine acted with skill, courage and honour in recent events," says Ahepkur. "This makes her a worthy mate."
"Hold on," I say. "If you're... you know... I mean, surely you can't keep on calling her 'the machine' now? Her name's Ada."
Ahepkur bristles visibly at that. "My chosen mate's name is XM-23012 HSM-110478," she says with some asperity. "The 'Ada' designator is only for the convenience of organics."
Well, there's a lot to be said for convenience, I think. My head is spinning. Starfleet's regulations on fraternization, of course, are more a mish-mash of guidelines than anything solid, what with dealing with dozens of different military traditions and species with novel biological imperatives... but surely doing it with your assistant on the office desk must be crossing some line? If nothing else, it must have voided Ada's warranty....
Speaking of which, the door hisses open once more and Ada herself steps out, looking neat and completely composed. "Our apologies, sir," she says primly.
"Right," I say, "right.... Right, I'm not dealing with this. You know what? You two are grown-ups, you work things out for yourselves. I'd suggest, just as a practical matter, that you, y'know, get a room next time. Just a suggestion."
"We would like very much to be assigned joint quarters," says Ada, and Ahepkur looks distinctly pleased by the idea.
"Fine," I say. "Fine. Go. Go now, and my blessings be upon you. I had some reason why I wanted to talk to you, but I've completely forgotten what it was, now. Go get a room before I come to what remains of my senses."
"Thank you, sir," says Ada, and she takes Ahepkur's hand, and they walk off together down the corridor, leaving me blinking in bemusement, or what would be blinking if I had two eyes.
First Saval's family turns up, then Tallasa's off on a date, then Tylha and Jhemyl start jerking me around, and now Ahepkur and Ada are... are.... Unbelievable. I think I need a very large drink and a lie down.
*/*assessing emotional state---
---noting reactions
---searching for appropriate response
---verbalization follows
---you and me both*/*
Unbelievable.
At this point my combadge goes beep. "Shohl to Grau." Tylha sounds serious. "Can you get back to the bridge, please, Ronnie? I think we have a situation."
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