We Have Met the Enemy

[Rachel E Garrett 0]

We Have Met the Enemy

 

Rachel bounded down the corridor like a hamster let out of its cage. Gees, I'm glad I found my uniform, she thought as she dodged someone coming from the opposite direction. Not sure how long it woulda taken to get a new one. But, wow! They had such neat stuff in that ICU. She cut around a corner a bit too quickly and nearly missed toppling a hover cart piled with supplies bound for the new diplomatic wing. The supplies survived, but the technician didn't. He jerked the cart aside, lost his balance and careened into a bulkhead.

 

"Sorry," Rachel called over her shoulder. She was late, and late wasn't good. Otherwise she would have stopped to help. Anyway, the only thing that looked like he hurt was his pride. I wonder if they're gonna have that stuff in the new dips medbay, she thought as she scooted into the turbolift as the doors closed. In the time it took to reach the docking bay for Yorktown, several other things ran through her head, but she keyed in on a few – quite an accomplishment since her head was usually so crowded with facts and figures and other stuff.

 

She felt proud. She had actually met the Chief Medical Officer, and he wasn't half bad. She talked to him. He was pretty nice. And he sounded like he understood.

 

She tapped her foot as the lift door opened a few decks up, then she moved to the side to make room for borders. He might even be on my side. Wow. He might even talk to the chief.

 

The thought of the chief made her swallow hard, but in no time her brain was up and running as the doors closed and the lift continued.

 

She'd been aboard… almost a week? She ticked off the people she'd met, and they all seemed pretty nice. Maybe this job wouldn't be so hard after all. Maybe, just maybe, she might make it through the first month, then the first year, then – if she was lucky – she might even be off probation. That would be really neat.

 

The lift paused, gave a little jerk, then opened on her deck and she made a mental note to tell someone about that. Then she remembered and tapped her commbadge, "Garrett to Fletcher. I'm… out. Where should I go?" She had assumed Yorktown, but now she wasn't sure.

 

"Well...t-minus 3 hours, thirty eight minutes until Jorahl wants to run a preliminary test on the nacelles. I could use a hand replacing their circuitry."

 

Jorahl? Someone else she'd not met yet, but the name sounded vaguely familiar. "Ok. I'm on my way."

 

She found Caelan working feverishly to finish repairs to the Yorktown. He'd completed the work on several structural problems already, he said, but he still had a few hours of electrical work and at least an hour of reloading command protocols and testing left. And there were micro fractures throughout the nacelle. Gees, she felt bad about falling asleep and getting sent to sick bay. But now she was back working and she'd make the most of it. After a while they had a rhythm going and it looked like they just might finish in time. Maybe. If they were lucky.

 

And she'd eventually have to find her way back to her quarters, 'cause she sure didn't want to end up in sickbay again. That thought made her stop work to reflect on something her grandfather had once told her.

 

"Sometimes, Cricket," he said. He always called her Cricket, mostly because of the little noises she made when she was working. "Sometimes I think we're our own worst enemy." When she was little she really didn't understand what he meant. But now, especially after the last few days, the full meaning had really sunk in.

 

"We have met the enemy, and he is us."

~Pogo