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It was unusual to see Commander Chin-Riley sitting alone in the crew lounge. Since she – like the Captain – usually ate in her quarters if eating alone. Erica could only assume she was waiting someone who was running late. Probably La’an, or maybe even Spock.
Now was Erica’s opportunity.
“Is the chilli in everything an Illyrian thing, or you thing?” Erica asked as she sat down across from the Commander. Naturally a bottle of chilli oil was sitting next to the Commander’s ramen. Possibly the topic of the Commander’s Illyrian heritage was a sensitive one but Erica decided she was going to ask anyway. No procrastinating today – she was going to get in there and start a conversation. And she was genuinely curious about the chilli thing.
The Commander raised an eyebrow. “A me thing,” she answered.
“You’re okay with me asking about Illyrian stuff, right?” Erica asked. “Like how much you can lift?”
The Commander’s expression turned from puzzled to amused. “More than a fully grown Aenar, less than a shuttle,” she replied.
After the Commander was arrested and rumours were flying through the Enterprise, Christine had told Erica of how during the light virus incident the Commander had wandered into sickbay with Hemmer slung over her shoulder like a sack – but the shuttle information was new.
“When and why did you try to lift a shuttle?” Erica asked.
“An accident during the Enterprise retrofit a few years ago.”
It was Erica’s turn to raise an eyebrow questioningly.
“A complicated sequence of events – but we all lived and miraculously no limbs were lost,” the Commander added as if that explained it away.
“Okay. But have you ever tried to measure how much you can lift?” Erica asked.
“No,” the Commander replied. “Can you imagine if someone wandered into the gym to find a ‘regular normal human woman’ bench pressing twice her body weight.”
“Yeah. That might make people think,” Erica replied imaging that scene, and then stopping herself. Her strange dreams of the Commander dressed as a goth Robin Hood were more than enough already.
The Commander smiled. Erica wondered if anyone else had asked her these things. Christine if given the opportunity surely would – but whether she had, Erica didn’t know.
Encouraged, Erica continued.
“Okay, this is one the crazier rumours…” Erica started.
“There were rumours?” the Commander asked.
“Oh, lots – you know how this ship is.”
The Commander sighed in resignation.
It had gone just a bit crazy after the Commander was arrested. Captain Pike wasn’t one for being in a bad mood, but that day he had stormed onto the Bridge and announced they were heading back to Earth and there was to be an emergency meeting of the bridge crew.
When he had shared why the Commander had been arrested, Erica had to stifle a smile. She was in no way pleased the Commander was in trouble but she couldn’t help but be amazed that a woman with such a reptation for enforcing Starfleet’s rules had for her entire career been audaciously breaching them by just wearing the uniform. As a Starfleet officer, Erica’s knew a person engaging in criminal behaviour shouldn’t increase her respect for them – but in this case she couldn’t help it.
Until that point Erica had never given half a thought about Illyrians. She’d never met one (or so she had thought) and they kept themselves to themselves. It was when she heard some of the rumours going around the lower decks that Erica had started to realise what an uphill battle the Illyrians faced within the Federation – and by extension, just how much trouble the Commander was in.
It was as Erica was chewing out an Ensign who was repeating some crap about augments infiltrating Starfleet and a second Eugenics War, that she realised this wouldn’t be simply solved by a speech from the Captain. Just maybe she would watch the Commander be sent to prison by the Federation for just being herself. How on Earth could that happen in the 23rd century? Weren’t they supposed to be past that?
“But you had Christine and Dr M’Benga in your corner. They were basically the anti-misinformation squad – anyway – is it true you can bioluminesce?
“Yes.”
Erica clapped her hands together. “Brilliant!” Erica exclaimed.
“It’s how my body fights infection – light and heat,” the Commander started to explain.
“I’ve always wanted to bioluminesce,” Erica continued excitedly. “Can you imagine, going down the club and putting on a light show.”
The Commander didn’t seem to share Erica’s enthusiasm. “It’s involuntary so it has mostly involved running to my quarters or the bathroom whenever I feel it coming on.”
“Not fun then.”
“No,” the Commander replied. “It can be very awkward in First Contact situations.”
Erica gave a snort of laughter. This side of the Commander – hesitantly open – was new to her, which reminded her of the first reason she had been trying to talk to the Commander.
“I’ve been meaning tell you, the whole ‘Where Fun Goes to Die’ thing. It’s dead,” Erica said.
“Really? Nicknames in Starfleet tend to last. The Captain’s is on his file.”
“Yeah, but if you ask the Yeomen how much fun they would be if they spent their lives in constant fear of being arrested – then they get the point.”
“It’s not an Illyrian thing,” the Commander replied. Then gave a sigh. “It is a bit a being a secret Illyrian thing, but mostly…” she paused for a moment. “Did you know when anyone dies or has a serious injury as a result of an accident on board this ship I write up a report for the Captain and Starfleet on how it happened. It’s the Captain that has to tell the families, but I’m the one trying to get exactly what happened out of their traumatised coworkers and friends – so yes, I kill the fun – when I’m worried that the fun will kill them.
“So it’s a Number One thing,” she added.
Erica knew of a few people who had been killed in accidents. Everyone in Starfleet did. Although she couldn’t recall any since she had transferred to the Enterprise. Yes, a few deaths resulting from incidents with hostiles and space phenomena – and of course there was what happened to Hemmer – but no workplace accidents. The Commander’s strategy was effective.
“You know, it would be nice if you talked about that stuff every now and again,” Erica said.
“I’m talking about it now,” the Commander replied.
“Only after I’ve cornered you.”
Erica decided it was time to lay her cards on the table. The second reason she had been trying to talk to the Commander.
“Look - I want to be a captain one day.” Erica examined the Commander’s face for any surprise or horror, but she remained poker-faced. Deciding that as a positive sign, Erica continued.
“I know nobody is going to give me a starship for just being an amazing – the best – pilot. I’ve got to rise through the ranks and get promoted and prove myself as a capable first officer. I’m lucky, I’ve got the best first officer in the fleet right in front of me to learn from – but all I see is you being Number One.”
The Commander looked a bit puzzled. Erica sighed and started again. “I’m explaining that wrong. Okay – have you ever thought you might be too good at your job?”
At any other time Erica would have thought the expression on the Commander’s face hilarious, but given Erica was trying to discuss her future career prospects, it was not a look she wanted to see right then. Erica realised this conversation was going bad places fast.
“I’m not…,” the Commander started.
“Okay – that definitely came out wrong – what I’m trying to say is: how do I see myself – Erica Ortegas – become a first officer and make the role mine, when I don’t get to see how you – Una Chin-Riley – make the first officer role yours? All I see is Number One being Number One.”
That was slightly better, Erica thought to herself. The Commander didn’t say anything, then started. “We face danger on regular basis. It’s not appropriate for people to see me or the Captain second guess ourselves.”
“Not in a crisis situation, but maybe talking about writing up one of those reports or moaning about the next duty roster being a headache or complaining about that annoying Lieutenant Erica Ortegas who seems to have no respect for protocol. Maybe that would be nice to see – but not everyone. I mean not the ensigns, they’re all better off being terrified of you – except Nyota, she’s pretty on to it – but the rest of the bridge crew or…”
Erica stopped herself before she started to really ramble.
It wasn’t exactly what Erica really wanted to say. She wanted to say that she had listened to the Commander’s testimony and that she had worried that the legendary Number One figure was a wall the Commander had been hiding behind. That she hoped that the Commander felt she could be herself with friends – and that Erica would quite like if the Commander would consider her one of those friends.
But that all was a lot when you weren’t on first name basis with someone. And they outranked you. And they were as tall as an Amazon and could literally squash you like a bug.
No. Erica told herself. Not going there. Whatever was going on between Christine and Spock was more than enough complicated relationship drama for the entire ship.
The Commander sat there for a moment in what Erica guessed was stunned silence. “That is a very interesting bit of feedback.”
“What – be more h…” Erica stopped herself.
“Honest,” the Commander finished for her.
“I was actually about to say ‘Human,’ until I realised. So maybe ‘be more Illyrian’?”
“I will take it into consideration,” the Commander replied, the stock standard response delivered with a perplexed smile. Erica couldn’t say she expected any more than that.
“Are you serious about wanting to become a first officer?” The Commander asked.
There was a joke on Erica’s tongue, but it was not the time. “Yes,” she said truthfully. “If you think I’d be any good at it.” Erica immediately regretted asking that, fearing the answer may not be what she wanted to hear. But there was no going back now – she would get an answer.
The Commander looked at Erica like she was appraising her, using her best Number One gaze. Erica felt like cadet on her first day on a starship. She really needed to learn how to do that.
“There’s a natural path from helm to first officer,” the Commander responded. “Having to think five steps ahead, assess risk and adjust your plans at a moments notice all while holding the lives of everyone onboard the ship in your hands, that’s command thinking – and you do all that on a daily basis – and you’re very good at it. I wouldn’t have let just anyone take over the helm.”
Erica felt pride leap through her. Although she didn’t really like to think on the holding lives in her hands bit too often.
“You’ve also got a natural talent for understanding the mood of the crew. But the areas you need to work on are…”
Erica grimaced. “It’s reports, isn’t it.” There was very little she hated more than spending hours over a PADD trying to translate her natural way of communicating into a stiff, lifeless form acceptable to Starfleet bureaucracy.
“Yes. Reports, schedules, protocols – but it’s things you can learn and practice. It’s also being comfortable with being the person discouraging reckless behaviour rather than encouraging it and remaining professional even when you completely disagree with orders.”
Erica thought for a moment. “If I work on latter two will you teach me about the former.”
The Commander smiled. “You have a deal. I’m working on the duty roster tomorrow, you can join me in the ready room after your shift at the helm.”
Erica felt an overwhelming sense of relief.
Then she noticed La’an walking up carrying a burger on a plate.
“Hi,” La’an said flatly to the pair of them sitting at the table. La’an and the Commander did that communicating with just looks thing they often did on the Bridge for a moment and then La’an sat down.
“Did you know the Commander has never tested how strong she is?” Erica said, both taking charge of the conversation before she could feel uncomfortable for crashing their dinner together, and changing the topic away from her.
“Really?” La’an said and actually sounded surprised.
“I know a general range,” the Commander replied.
“What? Give or take five tonnes?” Erica answered.
“So you’ve never used the gym equipment?” La’an asked.
Erica noticed Nyota wandering in the lounge, caught her eye and tilted her head to draw her over to the table.
“I’ve pretended to use the gym equipment,” the Commander said. “When I’ve had to.”
“How can you fake using weights?” Erica asked.
“I think the really worrying implication here is that you’ve never experienced leg day,” La’an said.
“Or the second day after leg day,” Erica added. “Always the worst,” she said directly to La’an who nodded.
Nyota sat down. “The Commander doesn’t know how strong she is,” Erica announced catching her up.
“I know a range!” the Commander repeated in exaggerated protested.
“And never done leg day,” La’an added, picking up her burger.
“Isn’t that something you should know. Isn’t it important?” Nyota asked
“Yes it is important,” Erica said with mock sincerity. “Surely for security,” she said to La’an who, now having her mouth full, shrugged in response.
“Or for science,” Nyota added. And this was why Nyota was by far Erica’s favourite ensign, she had picked up on the bit immediately.
“Yes for science!” Erica exclaimed on spotting what Nyota had – that Spock had now walked into the lounge. “Maybe we should ask the ship’s chief science officer.” She put up her hand and waved him over. He raised an eyebrow and headed in their direction.
Erica caught the Commander’s eye. They both knew this night would now almost certainly end in the ship gym with three Humans and one reluctantly dragged along half-Vulcan cheering on their Illyrian colleague – and friend.
Una flashed her the quickest of smiles and went back to defending herself.