125: Stars on Strings

By LT. February Grace and Lt. Micah Samson
80201.00
Concurrent with Between the Lines
Soundtrack: The Other End of the Telescope by 'Til Tuesday

--=Stellar Cartography: USS Serendipity =--

As she sat, staring up at the data before her and processing it, February bit her lip unconsciously.

She sighed and stretched her arms over her head, trying to increase blood flow to her shoulders. They had become so tense from the thought of the challenge they were facing, navigationally, that she was wound so tight she felt barely able to turn her head from side to side.

She had left the bridge shortly after the staff meeting, and had been pouring over maps of the system ever since. She was grateful to be able to combine the scientific knowledge of Grace’s previous host, Wen, with what she knew about flying a starship.

The results of her study were daunting, at best.

She was still getting a feel for Sera’s helm. It was so much smaller than the Flagship, and so much larger than the Alchemy. She had to acclimate herself to the response time of the helm itself, which was so fast and sensitive that she had to almost float her fingers above it without touching it, or risk setting off too many sensors and confusing the system entirely.

She made a mental note to ask Lair Kellyn later if something could be done to make Sera’s helm response more like Alchemy’s as far as the workings of the panel itself, so it would be easier for her to go between the two.

“We have to be very careful after we reach this point,” Micah Samson, currently the senior Stellar Cartographer aboard, stood behind February and gently reached around her, indicating a spot on the map with his index finger. “As the star grows in size and varies its gravitational field, the danger increases that Sera could be pulled in and stuck there, unable to get free.”

As Micah stood over her, she absent-mindedly tossed her hair back over her shoulder and it whapped him in the face. Oblivious to this, February concentrated on the portion of the map that he had indicated.

*Her hair smells like roses, * Micah thought sadly. *Why does she have to smell like flowers? *

February focused on transferring the data that Dabin was compiling up on the bridge into new star charts based on the first sensor readings he was receiving from the probes that had been launched ahead of the ship.

*I wonder if we’ll have to work straight through, * February thought to herself. Now that she was back to work full time and in an area of the ship removed from Reece, it was hard to make out his thoughts, and she was finding that after hours away from him, she really missed them.

Her daydreaming expression did not go unnoticed by the flustered young scientist who was trying to keep his own mind on task.

“Lieutenant Grace.” He said, his cheeks flushing red as he discovered that she was now wearing a wedding ring on her left hand. *Human tradition. They’re both Trill. What the hell.* He thought.

“Lieutenant Grace?”

She was no closer to hearing him the second time he said her name than she’d been the first.

“February!”

February turned around in her chair and reddened. “I’m sorry, Micah. I don’t think all of my brain has returned from shore leave yet.” She smiled a little, embarrassed. She expected that he might tease her a bit, or shrug and go back to work. But he didn’t do either.

Micah Samson did something that Bru had never seen him do before in all the months she’d known him.

He became angry.

“Lieutenant, you must get your head out of the clouds. We are in a very threatening situation here and with two new and untested ships as our only means of staying alive as we perform our mission. I would appreciate it if you would please, stop behaving like a love-sick schoolgirl and do your job!”

February winced. She cleared her throat. Her hands shook a little as she returned them to the panel and began running another set of navigational simulations.

If Micah had not known her so well, he would have missed the gleam in her eyes that told him that he’d really hurt her feelings.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She replied. “I was being unprofessional, Lieutenant Samson. It won’t happen again.”

Now Micah felt worse. He knew that she would never allow anything to keep her from doing her duty. He’d seen her pull off miracles or nearly so under stress that most people couldn't’t begin to fathom.

Seeing her bubbly and giddy over Reece had been killing him for weeks. Watching them dance and smile and laugh as he’d sat in the corner at the Halloween party aboard the flagship in his Edward Scissorhands regalia, bad enough.

Then during the Alchemy rescue mission they’d all been so busy, he’d almost forgotten for a while just how close she and Reece had become.

And then, the news came.

Following the Yensul crash, they had married. They had chosen not to tell anyone.

She had married a man whom loving would cost her not only her home and family but the future of her symbiont. She had thrown caution to the wind and disavowed the most sacred belief of her people.

And she knew she was doing the right thing by doing so. There was no doubt or fear or regret radiating from her at all.

She was happy. She was smiling, and she was joyful.

Why had he had to say the one thing he knew could hurt her?

“February, stop.” He said softly, spinning her around in her chair and away from the projections of stars that surrounded them, on the walls, and the ceiling.

“What? Did I upload the wrong information for the last simulation?” She asked, now doubting everything she was doing.

“No. I, I want to apologize to you for what I just said. It’s not true, and I know you would never let anything keep you from doing your absolute best to helm our ship and keep our crew safe.”

Tears shined in her eyes more fully now, and at the sight he discovered that he hated seeing her cry more than he could ever hate seeing her happy with Dabin Reece.

“No, you were right. I have to keep my mind where it belongs.” She insisted.

“That's not the problem. Problem is that I can’t keep mine where it belongs.”

Now, Bru was truly lost. “Micah, I don’t understand.”

“No, you don’t. I didn’t want you to.” He replied, shuffling his feet and averting his gaze. The light from the panel reflected off of the lenses of his glasses and obscured his eyes from her sight.

She blinked, and waited for him to continue.

“I’m allergic to Sparrow.” He blurted.

February tilted her head in even greater confusion. “What?”

”Your cat. I’m deathly allergic to your cat.”

She didn’t have the foggiest notion where this conversation was going but it seemed so important to him that she decided to go with it.

“But you kept volunteering to watch him.”

“Yes, I did. I wanted him to like me.” He looked up at her now with an earnest face. “I wanted you to like me.”

“But I do like you! I always have. Why wouldn’t I like you?”

“Not like that, February.” He took a few steps away, and she rose from her chair. “I wanted you to like me.”

“Oh.” She pressed her lips tightly together again tightly.

“Finding out about your marriage,” his voice varied in pitch a moment as he spoke the last word, and he cleared his throat. “I mean, I knew you liked Reece, but.”

”You didn’t expect us to get married.”

“No. No, I didn’t. And then you didn’t tell anyone,”

“Micah,” February put her hand on his shoulder, and he winced at the sensation of her touch. She was trying to comfort him, but she had no idea the pain that feeling her that near was causing him.

“If I led you on in any way, I apologize. I thought that everyone knew how much I, I mean, the Reassociation and all was a big step and,” she sighed. “I thought that everyone understood. If I’d known that you ever had any interest in me at all, I would have told you how serious I was about him at the start.” She hated knowing that she had caused a friend such pain, even though she had not ever intended to do it.

“No, no. You never led me on. You’re a lady, February Grace. You wouldn’t ever lead a man on.” He turned back to the star charts and completed his adjustments to the computer for the continuation of her simulation.

“If we can keep the maneuvering thrusters working as you move us at impulse towards the star, and can maintain proper clearance, we should hopefully be able to continually course correct and maintain a safe distance.”

*A safe distance, * February thought. *He’s talking about more than just the predicament we’re facing.*

“Is there anything I can do to help you at all?” She whispered, her hand jumping up and outward again. Her arm extended, until she stopped herself from reaching out to touch him and slowly drew it back toward her.

“A safe distance, Lieutenant Grace.” Samson kept crunching numbers and programming them into the computer, avoiding her kind, compassionate eyes. “Understand that sometimes, maintaining distance is necessary to keep one from being destroyed by the bright light that draws it most near.”

“I understand.” February replied regretfully.

Then, she did what she would have wanted anyone to do for her, if the situation had been reversed.

She sat back down in her chair, focused on the data before her, and got back to work.

Lt. February Grace
Senior Flight Controller
USS Serendipity/Alchemy

and

Lt. Micah Samson
Science Officer
USS Serendipity NCC-2012