Raising Spirits

[Rachel E Garrett 0]

Raising Spirits

A Joint Log by Scott Coleridge, Caelan Fletcher, and Rachel Garrett

 

Scott, assigned to the diplomatic computer sections, was checking status reports. He determined he’d have to go to the computer core for that section and to make adjustments. After her encounter with Chief Jorahl, Rachel stopped outside main engineering, leaned on the wall a minute then sank to the floor, totally overcome.

 

Emerging from main engineering, Caelan slowly made his way toward the diplomatic section, not in any particular hurry to begin...decorating. It took him a few steps to register her presence, unaccustomed to encountering people seated in the corridors, beneath his line of sight. He was dealing with Rachel, however, so it didn’t completely surprise him. Smirking, he glanced down, “You ok, kiddo?”

 

“No,” she replied, her voice small and choked.

 

Caelan crouched down next to her, now uncertain of the seriousness of the situation, "Did he say somethin' to ya?"

 

Sniffling, Rachel replied, "He ... killed my Gran."

 

At this point, Scott left engineering by the same exit. When he came upon Rachel and Caelan, he stopped and wondered what the probability was that they would all leave by the same exit from such a large room. Then he shrugged and was about to continue when it registered on him that Rachel was crying. Approaching them, he asked, "She okay?"

 

Rachel was devastated, trying to hold it together. The rest of the engineers passing her on the way to their assignments either politely ignored her or stared, making her feel even more uncomfortable. As quietly as she could, stifling her sobs, she replied, “He. Killed. My. Gran. My Gran. He....killed her.”

 

Scott blinked. "He what?"

 

Unable to endure more prying stares, Rachel said, “I need to go somewhere. Anywhere. Please...help me.”

 

Caelan looked up at Scott, then back to Rachel. He said, "Yeah ... sure," and stood to offer her a hand.

 

Scott did likewise. "How about a nice, out of the way Jeffries Tube?"

 

"Yeah. Anywhere ... away from him."

 

Caelan allowed for a slight grin to make its way into his expression, "Got any favourites, Rachel?" She shook her head.

 

Scott took the lead, gesturing. "There's an access junction just around the corner." Together he and Caelan helped Rachel into the Jeffries tube where, alone, in these cramped spaces, Scott had never really been at peace. But now he could glimpse part of the reason Rachel spent her time here. It was small, and the confined spaces helped communicate the hum of the station's systems as their energy pulsed throughout the hull. Away from the bustle and crowds apt to accumulate elsewhere, the tubes could indeed be a sanctuary. But not today, not now. As they entered, Rachel broke down into further, inconsolable sobs.

 

"Why do we have a Romulan as a chief engineer anyway?" mused Scott, applying the question mark typically used for rhetorical questions.

 

Caelan, who had missed that day of rhetoric, replied with a shrug, "Who knows. You'd think they'd want to keep it in the fam...." Catching on, better late than never, he cut his answer short, consigning himself to simply watch Rachel vent some emotional baggage for the moment.

 

"And what's this about killing her Gran?"

 

"You know as much as I do."

 

Scott turned to Rachel, determined to find out more. He waited for an opportune moment between sobs then asked, "So exactly what do you mean that 'he killed your Gran?'"

 

Rachel hugged her knees close to her chest as she leaned against the wall. "He said," she choked a minute, then began again, "he said he took apart the Enterprise-C. That was my Gran's ship."

 

Scott had honestly never made that connection. As it dawned on him, he said--probably not the best thing to say--"Oh, you're related to _that_ Rachel Garrett."

 

"You'd never guess, huh?" she said, wiping her eyes yet again with the cuff of her uniform. Rachel never expected people to connect her with her grandmother. The holovids she had seen showed a dynamic, self-assured officer whose very presence in a room conveyed command. Rachel knew she had missed out on those genes. She was anything but command material.

 

"My Gran....gave her life for the Federation. Some say she even saved the Federation from war - she and her crew." A shuddering breath forced Rachel to pause for a minute. "Not everyone died. Some were taken prisoner and used as slaves on Romulus. My Gran died. And he...." She stopped to stare at the opposite wall. "What am I supposed to do? Why did he tell me that? How can I work here now?"

 

Scott exhaled, not quite sure what to say. Jorhal had dropped a bombshell on Rachel, that was for sure. What do you say to someone whose department head confronts her, point-blank, confesses to ... wait. Scott furrowed his brow and asked, "Rachel, did the Chief actually say he killed your grandmother? Killing someone and taking apart their ship are two different things. I mean, I'm sure that he didn't treat her to tea and cake, and judging from the way he talked to you, he probably isn't all that nice in general. But that doesn't mean he actually ... you know...."

 

"Even if he did…yeh know,” Caelan allowed his voice to trail off, as if not directly mentioning the possible killing would be less painful, “…we're on the same side now, right? I can't say I'm fond of this guy's delivery…but maybe you shouldn't think of it as a bad thing," Caelan offered, trying to bang out his BS philosophy on the spot. “I'm sure your Gran woulda been thrilled to hear that." Okay ... so he was stretching the limits of optimism a little bit…or a lot... But calling the guy a stupid mother-frakker didn't seem thing like the thing she'd want to hear right now.

 

Rachel turned to Scott. He had a good point. Taking apart and actually killing were two totally different things. Still, in her present emotional state Rachel couldn’t rationalize what Jorahl had done. She eyed Caelan. If we were on the same side, why did Jorahl dredge up bad memories and sling them around like they didn’t matter? Did he want her to be scared of him? Did he want her to hate him? If so, he sure had done a pretty good job.

 

Scott glanced from Rachel to Caelan, glad that the latter was doing a better job at calming her. He tilted his head. "But the question is... where do we go from here?"

 

"Dunno," said Rachel, tucking her chin between the knees still tight against her chest. "All I know is I don't want to hear or see that guy again."

 

"So you want us to construct a cloaking device and surgically implant it in him?"

 

At any other time Rachel would have laughed at Scott, but somehow she just couldn't do anything more than stare at the wall.

 

Scott frowned at Rachel's lack of response to his jest. Humour had always been his first--and last--resort.

 

"You know ..." mused Caelan, glancing between the two, "with all the commotion lately, I doubt anyone would miss us for ... say ... an hour or two. We haven't had a break since we got here anyway. I hear Drankum's is where the cool cats hang out.... I betcha we can find something that'll help ya take your mind off things."

 

Rachel had never been much of a drinker, but she really needed something now. Maybe a drink would help; couldn’t hurt at this point. It might take her mind off things. One thing was certain – she couldn't stay in this J-tube forever, as much as she wanted to. If she did she'd have Dr Lepage on her tail, too - and then she’d have two chiefs to deal with.

 

Scott nodded. "What we need right now is to just ... try to absorb what just happened. To recover. After all, we haven't really had much of a chief for a while now. This will take some adaptation, especially with his latest ... revelation."

 

"Revelation. Yeah," said Rachel, grabbing her engineering satchel. "My mom has a word for men like him, but I'm not allowed to use it. C’mon, let's go." She turned towards the access panel to crawl out, her pain quickly turning to anger.

 

Scott let Rachel and Caelan exit first, bringing up the rear and closing the tube door behind him. "You know, I think this is actually the first time I've ever met a Romulan. It's kind of different from encountering other alien species--they look like Vulcans, but they're definitely two distinct cultures."

 

"You got that right,” said Rachel. “Commissioner Sorehl - he's nice. He's Vulcan. This Jorahl. She stopped abruptly and turned to face Scott. “Yanno what?”

 

Scott blinked, rather taken aback--this was a Rachel Garrett he hadn't seen before. "I don't think I'll ever be scared of him again,” she said. Maybe you're right. Maybe it's for the best...'cause now I hate him so much my scared's all gone."

 

Scott directed the turbolift to take them to the midway. He said, in as Vulcan a tone as he could manage, "As it should be. Fear is overrated."

 

I am Centurion Jorahl, your Chief. Remember that. Yeah, Rachel would remember. She entered the turbolift, more resolved than ever to show Jorahl what she was made of, and it wasn't gonna be pretty. She was glad to have Caelan and Scott to help her figure these things out. The hurt was still there, but the other side - the side her mom always said she had - the determination - had taken over. And she was ready for that drink.

 

"So now there’s just one more problem…" Caelan allowed for a suspenseful pause, "Who's buyin'?"

 

Rachel thought a minute. Her eyes narrowed and she assumed a mocking pose. “Centurion Jorahl. Our Chief.”

 

Scott put on his most mischievous smirk, the one he reserved for special occasions and had dry-cleaned after each use. "We're three brilliant Starfleet engineers. Among us, we should be able to make that work...."

 

"And if he complains he can shoot us all out the tubes. And there he'd be with no engineering corps. Wouldn't that be nice?" The turbolift opened on the midway and Rachel tossed her bag into a convenient chair. She led the way to Drankum's, not caring if she ever saw the bag again.

 

"I don't think Chief Jorahl learned much when he encountered your grandmother and her crew, Rachel," said Scott.

 

"He said she was a fine officer. What he didn't know was that she was twice the officer he could ever hope to be.” Without breaking stride she muttered, “And it's genetic."

 

Scott nodded. "That's the thing about us humans. We're just as crafty and conspiratorial as Romulans ... but we're also darned near unpredictable when it comes to our reactions. If Chief Jorahl thought that telling you this outright was going to prevent trouble in the future, he's made a mistake."

 

"Darn straight," said Rachel, slipping into a chair at the bar. "Barkeep - drinks all around. Centurion Chief Jorahl's buyin'."

 

Caelan took a seat to the right, watching the barkeep fetch a round of drinks, "And I figured we'd have to fool the computer into thinking we had Jorahl's credits ... but I s'pose that's one way to handle it."

 

At that Rachel finally laughed. "Gran always liked to keep it simple."

 

The barkeep returned with three mugs, filled to the brim and thick with froth. Caelan grabbed the first two, handing them to Rachel and Scott respectively. Reaching for his own glass, he lifted it to shoulder-level. "Then how about we dedicate this first round to yer Gran," he grinned.

 

Following Caelan's lead, Rachel said, "To Gran," and lifted hers a bit higher. "And the crew of Enterprise-C."

 

Scott made their duet a trio and added, "To your Gran, and the crew of the Enterprise-C, and anyone else on whom Chief Jorahl's stepped along the way. We might have to work for him, but we don't have to like him. Or invite him to birthday parties, with little kids, and magicians who perform those astounding tricks that they can't tell you the secret to because then it would ruin all the fun, like that one where--" he stopped when he noticed Rachel and Caelan, glasses still raised, staring at him.

 

Caelan interrupted, “My hand's startin’ to cramp Scott…”

 

Somewhat sheepishly, he concluded, "Er, to your Gran."

 

Their glasses clinked together, and they drank. They were engineers; they all had that in common. Their mission was simple: they fixed what was broken. They repaired, they mended, and they worked tirelessly to make the old new again. For the first time since coming aboard Aegis, Scott felt like he had comrades: Rachel with new resolve and Caelan with raised spirits.

Edited July 11, 2008 by Rachel E Garrett