Matters of Prespective -- Part Three        Harry was fuming by the time he reached Computer Central. Any change in the Paige that neither he nor Jo were aware of was cause for concern. Jo seemed to lack the proper appreciation for the gravity of the situation. A quick look around revealed that Neebish was nowhere to be seen. Harry's fuming approached the boiling point. "NEEBISH!"        The demanding bellow immediately produced a voice if not the desired person. "Coming, sir. I was in the middle of polishing my eyes." Neebish appeared a few moments later. "You needed to speak to me?"        "Yes. There seems to be a problem with the replicators and Jo said that she couldn't find anything wrong on her end."        Neebish started. "What is the nature of the problem?"        "The uniform program seems to have changed. It's not producing the usual style."        "Ah, yes. That is due to an upgrade in the program. It is functioning as it should." He licked his left truehand and ran it over his left eye. "There is nothing amiss unless the replicators are producing something else unusual." Another lick and the hand ran up his left antenna.        "Not that I'm aware of. It's been ten years, Neebish. Why did you suddenly decide to upgrade the uniform program?"        Neebish pulled himself up to his full height proudly. "Commander Hammond brought the matter to my attention yesterday. I have been so busy with other matters that I had overlooked the fact that the uniform program was so long out of date. Since we currently have time for minor repairs and adjustments I took the opportunity to correct the error."        "THAT WOMAN!"        "You sound displeased, sir. Was I in error to correct a problem that the Commander pointed out to me?"        "No. No, you did as you should." Dammit all. The woman was right to point out an out of date program, but he didn't have to like it. Harry shoved the same half-smoked cigar that he had started the morning with back in his mouth. "Carry on, Neebish." He stalked out of the room.        By the time he reached his quarters he was still fuming, but at a lower temperature. Klaus was already there with some completed datawork for his attention. Harry waved the reports off. "I'll take care of that after I get some exercise in." He began changing into his workout attire. "The replicators are fine. Neebish upgraded the uniform program." He handed his uniform to Klaus. "See that this gets laundered as necessary. I'm going to be wearing it for a while."        "I don't know, Harry. I don't think the uniforms are *designed* to be laundered."        "Well then, we're on the verge of a scientific discovery." Harry and cigar stalked out of the room.        By the end of her week in Engineering Regina found out why Jo continued to wear engineer's coveralls rather than the new uniforms that were available. The long list of small repairs that needed attending to required a multitude of tools and other odds and ends. Handling some of the repairs on her own several days ago she realized she would either need three hands to do the job or she would be constantly bending over to put down and pick up the tools she was using. Regina's sense of fashion bowed to practicality and she had donned coveralls herself. The dumpy garment certainly lacked any kind of style, but made up for the lack with its numerous pockets. She was just as happy that she would be back in a regular uniform tomorrow.        It had been a very informative week. The repairs had taken her all over the Paige and her sense of wonder that this incredible collection of mis-matched parts functioned at all was still running strong. She had noticed that everyone was wearing the new uniforms with their accompanying collar pips now. Everyone that is, but Jo and Harry. Jo she understood, but why did Harry stubbornly insist on wearing the old style? He couldn't be getting them from the replicators. Did he have a private stash of them somewhere? That man! He probably did. Regina snorted. No matter, Harry would run out of them eventually and then he would either wear the new uniform or sit the center seat naked.        Well, she was off duty now and was not about to let her annoying Captain disturb her relaxation. She reviewed what she had learned in the past week and suddenly realized that she had not seen any collar pips above the rank of Lieutenant yet. A glitch in the uniform program? Considering the Paige's computer 'system' it would not be impossible. She made a mental note to ask Neebish about it tomorrow.        The next morning she pulled her new uniform from the replicator and checked it carefully. It was the proper size and had the proper collar pips on it. Good. Neebish must have already corrected the glitch. She pulled it on and, after breakfast, reported for duty to the Cargo Master. Alexi greeted her with a warm smile and set immediately to showing her around his domain. This area was just as clean as the rest of the ship and just as crowded. Regina noted that people made way for the massive man as the two of them strolled about inspecting this or that. She smiled at him the second time she heard him addressed respectfully as 'Chief.' "You'll get the proper pips the next time you request a fresh uniform."        "Er? I put this uniform on fresh this morning. These are the proper pips."        "You're a lieutenant? Why does everyone call you 'Chief'?"        He gave a hearty laugh. "Well, I am 'Chief' of this section. I guess when everyone is pretty much the same rank you have to find some way to distinguish one from another."        Regina gaped at him. "The *entire* crew is made up of lieutenants and enlisted personel?"        "All but you, Jo, and Harry."        "Incredible!"        "What's so incredible about it? A person can either do the job or they can't. If they can't, no title of rank will help them do it."        Regina looked up at him. "So why was I assigned here? If Jo is a commander then she should be the XO."        "They offered her the job, but she decided she didn't want it."        "She turned it down?" Regina's eyes widened.        "That she did."        "Why?"        Alexi smiled at Regina's stunned look. "If you want to know that, you'll have to ask her yourself. Come this way and I'll show you where your tow station will be to start. Have you ever been part of a tow crew before?" He led the way.        "No, I haven't. I learned the basic procedures in the Academy, but that's the only real experience I have in towing."        "We'll run the practice drill twice then. You can observe the first time and then try your hand at it on the second time." Regina nodded and Alexi clapped her gently on the back. She realized that he could have sent her sprawling if he had put any strength at all behind the gesture. Alexi left her to attend to his own station.        Harry stopped before dressing to check his uniform carefully for damage. His morning routine now included the daily inspection as two weeks of laundering was bound to take something out of the fabric. The uniform appeared ship shape and would serve at least one more day. He pulled it on gently and cursed Regina for the necessity. The woman just had to fix something that wasn't broken and the worst part about it was that he couldn't even chide her for doing her duty. He had to be content keeping a close eye out for any other signs of her meddling. So far, there had been no changes to the ship's decor and the cigar program was working as well as ever. He took a deep breath to calm himself and headed for the bridge.        He found the sight of the bridge as he had left it yesterday to be unexpectedly cheering. Klaus had his coffee waiting for him and he took a sip as he settled into the center seat. Harry gave his attention over to the third shift reports. He didn't expect to find anything unusual and the reports didn't disappoint him. Station keeping was boring, but predictable. He leaned back in his seat, stretched, and froze as a soft "rrriiiippp" reached his ears. His face expressionless, he reached behind him and patted the back of his uniform. There was a gaping tear running from the seat to the small of his back. Harry realized he was no longer bored. "Kylye. Take the bridge for a little bit. I need to get something from my quarters."        "Aye, sir."        Harry was out the door before the woman's rump touched the center seat. No more than fifty meters down the corridor he was stopped by one of the enlisted crew. "Excuse me, Harry. Did you know that you have a tear in the back of your uniform?"        "Thank you. I'm going to take care of it right now." Harry continued on in the direction of his quarters.        Moments later he passed Jo. She beckoned him over. "Harry, did you know that your uniform is ripped?"        "Yes, I do. I'm going to take care of the problem now." The two of them parted company and Harry continued his walk.        The normally short distance to his quarters was quite a bit longer due to the vast number of people who felt the need to stop him and inform him about his uniform. He was all but growling by the time he reached his door.        "Harry!" Doc was sprinting toward him. Harry paused and waited for him to catch up. "What is it, Doc?"        "I just wanted to let you know that you have a rather large hole in the back of your uniform. Since you're visiting your quarters you may want to take the opportunity to change."        "I KNOW!" Doc started and Harry took a deep breath. "Yes, Doc. I'm well aware of the state of my uniform. You're only the seventh person to mention it to me. I came back to change."        "I am sorry. I didn't realize you were already aware of it."        "That's ok, Doc. I should feel blessed that my crew keeps me so well informed." Harry stepped through the door and sighed in relief as it closed behind him. Stripping off the uniform, he regarded it gloomily, and squelched the brief thought of having Klaus repair it for him. The material was just too far gone to hold a repair. There was no help for it. Harry approached the replicator with the same enthusiasm shown by a condemned man approaching a firing squad and ordered up a new uniform.        The machine hummed and in a few moments had one ready for him. He eyed it with distaste. That woman would no doubt be thrilled to know that he was now in conformance with everyone else on the Paige. He would have to wear the thing, but he would wear it *his* way. A minute's work divested the uniform of its collar pips. Harry spotted an empty jar on his dresser and dumped them in it. "Take THAT, Miss Pips!" He dressed quickly and studied his reflection in the mirror. It would do. He picked up the remains of the cigar he'd been smoking last night, clenched it firmly between his teeth, and stalked out. He passed Regina halfway back to the bridge. She smiled sweetly at him as she went by. "Nice uniform, Harry."        He forced a smile, refusing to give her the satisfaction of letting her see him upset. "Thanks." Finishing the journey to the bridge, he noted that the formerly bustling corridor was empty now that his backside was no longer in view.        Over the next two weeks Harry got used to the fit of the new style uniform. While he still removed the pips from each new garment, he no longer did a double take when catching sight of his reflection. He was currently approaching the end of a long shift. Another half-hour and he would be off duty. He stretched in his seat and reflected on the past month of station keeping. Word from the Hadrian was that the plague that had hit them and Kalimar so hard was pretty much under control and the Paige's services would no longer be needed within the next few days. The Paige herself was as shipshape as possible short of the promised overhaul. The crew had spent the time well. Those whose job it was to repair had fixed all the minor details that had needed looking after and the rest had taken the opportunity to conduct drills or to tidy closets and scrub the nooks and crannies. He had even caught his immaculate XO at it.        Harry chuckled. It seemed even the fastidious Miss Pips was not immune to dirt working its way under her fingernails. The woman was annoying, but from what he had seen himself and the remarks from his department heads, she had proved quick on the uptake and had a spark of resourcefulness. She might just work out after all.        "Hello, Harry." F'dar's arrival interrupted his train of thought and he yielded the center seat gratefully. "She's all yours."        Jo intercepted him at the door to his quarters. "Are you busy this evening, Harry?"        He motioned her to precede him through the door. "No, what did you have in mind?"        "How would you like to try a game of holo-raquetball?"        "Sounds like fun." Harry began stripping off his uniform. "Give me a minute to change."        Jo had a seat and glanced idly around the room. A jar on the dresser full of something glittering gold caught her eye and she rose to take a look at it. She pulled one of the many objects from the jar and examined it. "When did you start hoarding collar pips, Harry?"        Harry took the jar from her and replaced it on the dresser. "It's not a hoard."        "You've been *removing* them from your uniforms?"        "Yeah, so?"        "Why?"        "I don't need them."        "The uniforms come equipped with them automatically. Why go to the time and trouble of removing them? You're certainly entitled to them."        "I said, I don't need them."        Jo looked at him as if he'd grown a third eye. "That would explain why you wouldn't ask for them in the first place, but not why you remove them when they're already there. What harm does it do for you to wear them?"        Harry opened his mouth, then closed it. He stared at Jo defiantly. "I don't want them."        "Ah hah. You're doing it because of Regina."        "I am NOT! You don't like broccoli and nobody forces you to eat it. Well, I'm doing it because I don't need or want the bloody things! I have that option don't I?"        Jo looked intently into Harry's eyes. "I've known you too long, Harry. Be honest with me. Would you be doing the same thing if Regina hadn't been involved in their appearance?"        "Don't be ridiculous! Her actions have no bearing on the matter."        Jo nodded sagely as he glowered at her. "Uh huh. Whatever you say, Harry." She motioned to his naked body. "Is that your new exercise attire? It certainly leaves nothing to the imagination."        Jo headed for the door while Harry stalked off to procure some workout clothing. She paused before leaving. "I'll meet you on the recdeck." The door closing behind her cut off the sound of Harry's grumbling. She shook her head in amusement and headed down the corridor.        The raquetball game was hard-fought and Harry squeaked out the win by two points. A good dinner later left him feeling mellow and he had no trouble falling asleep. Consequently, the morning found him in a good mood.        He finished breakfast to find a new uniform waiting for him, courtesy of Klaus. Harry picked it up and started to remove the collar pips. One of them stuck and Harry struggled with it for a moment, cursing. The bloody things were more trouble than they were worth. He stopped. Why *was* he going to all this trouble? Jo was right. He was letting Regina get to him. Well, that was going to stop. He had allowed that woman to get under his skin and affect him so that put her one up on him. Harry reattached the pips he had taken off with deliberation. Collar pips were not worth noticing and the uniform came equipped with them already. He would wear them without another thought to the matter and that was that.        "Sir. I have a call coming in from the Hadrian."        "On the screen, please."        "Aye, sir. Go ahead, Hadrian."        An image of the Hadrian's bridge appeared on the main viewscreen. The tall Skoor sitting in the center seat nodded amicably once the transmission had been established on both ends. "Greetings Mitchell 'aige. I am Commander Teila, First Officer."        Harry took in the unsmiling face on the screen. Must be bad news. On the other hand, the man had a beak. How could you tell if he was smiling or not? Harry banished the thoughts of doom and gloom. "I hope that this is just a social call, Commander. Is everything well?"        A chuckle from the speakers proved that he was just borrowing trouble. "Yes, Ca'tain. Everything is safely under control now. Those who are still ill are now well on the road to recovery. Many thanks for your assistance. You may de'art when ready for your next assignment."        "Thank you, Commander. Paige out." The Hadrian's bridge vanished from the screen and Harry slapped the intercom. "All hands, this is the Captain. Prepare for departure." He turned to Zaru, smiling broadly. "Helm. Set course for Starbase 140. Best possible speed."        "Through the asteroid field or the usual course, sir?"        "Usual course this time."        "Aye, sir." Harry felt the impulse engines kick in and picked up his coffee cup. Refit and shore leave here we come. Considering the amount of work the Paige needed, a complete refit would take months. How long had it been since the Paige had called one port home? Years, at least. Well, this time there would be plenty of time for the crew to catch up on their resting and recreating. He lifted his cup and drank to their health as the Paige saluted one-quarter impulse.        Regina sprawled on her bed with a smile. It would only be a little longer and she would have her chance to get off this rusty tub. The Paige would be laid up for months, plenty of time for her to get transport to Earth. Daddy's last message had said that the Fifth Fleet would be arriving in Earth orbit in six weeks. She would see about having him arrange for an alternative posting. Parting is such sweet sorrow, she sighed. The Paige would be the sweet, the friends she had made here would be the sorrow. Maybe Daddy could arrange for a better posting for Jo as well. The thought was brief as she realized that the woman would never willingly leave. They should call the ship Mitchell Paige D'Avril. She wondered if Jo would even allow the starbase engineers to work on her child without her direct supervision.        Klaus stood with his dinner tray and scanned the wardroom. The room was crowded and humming with conversation, which was not surprising as the approaching prospect of the first real R&R in years had everyone feeling good. He could see no empty seats and turned to take the tray to his quarters before the food got cold. Jo caught his eye before he'd gone more than a few steps and beckoned him over. She moved over and patted the seat beside her. "No need for you to eat alone, Klaus. Neebish and I can be cozy."        Neebish inclined his antennae politely as Klaus settled down and picked up his fork. "Thanks. Will you be spending your leave at home, Neebish?"        "No. I have no family to visit. I intend to find a cozy hive on the starbase so that I will be available for questions about the computers should the engineers have any."        "Don't you think you'll get bored after a while."        "Oh no. There is so much to see on there that I will be quite content."        Jo laughed. "Just make sure you don't wander off with some merchant ship while you're there. *We* need you."        "I will be very careful to leave any other vessel before it departs the base."        Klaus turned to Jo. "How about you?"        "I've got transport to New Quebec already arranged. Hopefully, attending my sister's wedding will get my mother to stop addressing her letters to me as 'Dear Invisible Daughter...' What about you, Klaus?"        He grinned. "I'm going to find a nice resort where I can put my feet up and have someone *else* step and fetch it. *After* I visit my great-grandfather, of course. He'll be 110 years young and still insists on baking the cake himself. Mom tried to bring him a birthday cake last year and ended up going home with it."        "Ask him to bake one for you as a going away present when we're ready to leave again. I'd really like a taste."        "OK, I will. He'll be thrilled to think that one of his cakes gets to go star voyaging."        Jo checked the time. "I'd better scoot. I'm on duty in five minutes. Have fun you two." The hum of high spirits faded as she headed for Engineering.        "Welcome to Starbase 140, Mitchell Paige." The voice on the speaker was one of the sweetest sounds Harry had heard in a long time. He sat back in the center seat and stretched. "Helm, are we locked down?"        "Aye, sir."        "Good." Harry keyed the intercom. "All hands, this is the Captain. Welcome to Starbase 140. Enjoy your leaves, you've certainly earned it." He looked around the bridge. "Good job, everyone. Enjoy yourselves and I'll see you all in six months." Murmurs of 'goodbye' floated after him as he headed for his quarters to collect his gear.        He found that Klaus had been there before him and his important belongings had been neatly packaged. All he had to do was sling the two bags over his shoulder and he was ready to go. He did so and a few minutes later joined the majority of his crew on the starbase docks.        First things first, he needed to find Captain Peterson. He wasn't about to abandon the Paige without speaking face to face with the person who would be responsible for her. His crew were beginning to drift off singly and in pairs. Harry looked around at the thinning crowd and spotted a small group of people with the appearance of engineers moving against the flow and headed in that direction. The man in the lead saw him immediately and hurried over. "Captain Roberts, I presume?" He held out his hand. "I'm Captain Peterson, Chief Engineer."        Harry grasped the hand firmly. "Glad to meet you, Captain. I'm handing you a very special lady and I want her back in good shape when you're done."        Peterson chuckled. "Don't worry. We'll be gentle."        "You'd better be. She certainly deserves a little TLC."        "We'll take good care of her, Captain. Will you be staying on the base long?"        "Only for a week. After that you'll have to reach me on Earth."        "Understood, Captain. Enjoy your leave." Peterson and his team continued on toward the Paige and Harry headed down the corridor, whistling.        A half hour later, Peterson was giving the Paige's exterior a critical inspection. The hull was battered and unlovely looking, but that was not unexpected considering how long the ship had gone without a major overhaul. He made a mental note to send someone to walk the hull to look for problems that weren't visible at this distance. He tapped the cab's pilot on the shoulder. "Go ahead and set us down in the hangar bay." The woman nodded and set them down expertly a few minutes later. "We're safely down, Captain."        "Thank you." Peterson picked up his PADD and led the way. Once outside the shuttle, he looked around and then consulted his PADD to make sure of his bearings. "Let's start with the bridge. According to the rebuild plans, it should be this way." He took a few steps in that direction then stopped when he noticed his team staring around the hanger bay. "Ladies and gentlemen, this way if you please." His voice shook the team from their reverie and they headed for the bridge.        Two wrong turns later, they were standing in front of a pair of doors. "This *has* to be the bridge, Captain. Are you sure we have the plans for the correct ship?" The man looked confused.        Peterson checked his PADD. "USS Mitchell Paige (rebuild). These are the ones, unless someone switched ships on us." He motioned to the doors. "Go ahead, Hiller. Let's see if your guess is right."        Hiller stepped forward and the doors slid smoothly open. He stood there gaping at the sight. Peterson stepped closer. "What's wrong, Hiller?"        "Great Lords Above!. I've never seen anything like this, Captain!"        Peterson frowned and pushed past him. "Seen what?" He stopped suddenly, staring at the helm console. "Are those *buttons*?" Peterson stepped forward for a closer look as the rest of the team spread out through the bridge. A closer examination proved that his first identification was correct. "This station still has buttons! This is the original console!"        A call from the weapons station interrupted his train of thought. "Captain. Come take a look at this." He stepped over and looked. "Colimator phasers? I don't recall..." He checked his PADD again. "This ship doesn't *have* colimator phasers."        "Looks like she does now, Captain." Jemez was shaking her head in amazement. "I wonder what else she has that isn't documented."        Peterson took a deep breath. "Alright, everyone. This is obviously going to be a bigger job than we thought. I don't want to start taking anything apart until we know just what we're dealing with, otherwise we're going to end up with a pile of leftover parts and no idea where they came from." His team was nodding in vigorous agreement. "Each of you put a team together. We're going to go over this ship area by area and document *everything* before we start dismantling." They returned to the cab in silence.        The pilot turned in surprise when they reboarded. "That was sure a quick inspection, Captain!"        "We've barely started. Take us back to base. We need more manpower."        "Aye, sir." The cab lifted from the deck and retraced her path to the base.        Twenty-four hours later, Peterson sat in his office reviewing the reports filtering in from the teams scouring the Paige. His 'bigger job' was rapidly gaining in size and complexity. Team One's report included documentation on an A-27-D module, standard height of twenty centimeters, that had been installed in a space that was only fourteen centimeters high. Upon further investigation, the very delicate module was found to have had its top removed and lowered six centimeters, a hole drilled in the back of the case, and a cooling fan mounted behind it to make up for the reduction in the air space inside the module. The module was working perfectly. An addendum from the team leader noted that the modification was expertly done.        Team Four was currently investigating what appeared to be a power relay. It seemed to be working from all indications, but precisely what it was doing was still a mystery despite the team's best efforts. Status of investigation: still in progress. Additional notes documented the opening of what had seemed to be one of the main junction boxes only to find empty space.        Team Seven had been assigned to check out the ship's computer banks. The report from the team leader stated that they were being given some very expert assistance from Dr. Richard Daystrom. Peterson blinked, rubbed his eyes, and re-read the beginning of the report. Correction. They were being assisted by a *hologram* of Dr. Daystrom who seemed to know quite a bit about the Paige's computers as he had worked on some of the units personally eighty years ago. The team leader noted that the range of technology in the ship's computers was quite impressive with everything from duotronic to isolinear systems all humming away in seemingly perfect harmony. His eye caught an additional note. Many of the components were anchored in place with what the tricorder had analyzed as a mixture of dried saliva and paper.        Team Five hadn't checked in yet. Peterson tapped his commbadge. "Peterson to Team Five."        "Team Five here, Captain."        "Any significant findings yet?" Peterson braced himself for the worst.        "It's *all* significant, sir. Are you sure this ship arrived under her own power?"        Peterson was suddenly glad he'd seen the Paige's arrival with his own eyes. "Yes, she did. Why?"        "Do you want the complete list right now or just the main highlights?"        "Highlights only for now. You can turn in a full report when you're done."        "Well, the most serious thing right now is that there's a severe vibrational problem in the impulse engines."        "Repair or replace?"        "From the logs, this has been going on for the last five years. I would say replace them."        "Anything else?"        "Lots, but it's hard to tell if some of this stuff is a real problem or not."        "Let me have a complete listing when you're finished."        "Aye, sir."        "Peterson out." He sat back, took a deep breath, and checked his list of reports again. There was also no report yet from Team Three. He keyed his commbadge again. "Peterson to Team Three." There was no response and he tried again. "Peterson to Team Three."        "Team Three here, sir." Jemez sounded strange.        "What have you found out so far?"        "We're not sure, sir. I think we're lost, sir."        "Lost? Where are you?"        "I'm not really sure, sir. It's very strange. We've been walking for two hours and all we find are doors and more stairs. You may have send a search party."        "Stairs?" Peterson pulled up a copy of the Paige's plans. "Look around and describe what the surroundings look like. I'll see if I can locate you on the plans."        "Well, there's a flight of stairs hanging over my head right now. I think they were the ones we were on a half hour ago. There's a wooden door with a brass doorknob in front of me."        Peterson blinked. "Let's try a different approach. Where were you *supposed* to be?"        "We were going to check out the recdeck, sir. We walked through what we thought was the recdeck door and then everything changed to this. Now we can't find the door."        Peterson thought for a moment. "Did any of you say anything as you stepped through the door?"        "Yes, sir. Korbin said that the way this ship was put together reminded her of a painting by Escher."        "Ah hah. I have reason to believe that the ship has had holo equipment installed. Try saying 'Computer. End program.', Jemez."        "Aye, sir. Computer. End program."        Peterson heard a thump and a yelp. "What's going on, Jemez?"        "Sorry, sir. The step I was sitting on just disappeared and dumped me. Everything's gone now. I can't even see any sign of a recdeck."        "Check around. I'll bet you find that it's actually a holodeck."        "Aye, sir. I think we can find our way around now. I see the door we originally came in through."        "Alright, give me a full report when you finish."        "Aye, sir."        "Peterson out." He could feel his eyes beginning to cross. The commbadge came into use once more. "Captain Peterson to Admiral Ci'kekher."        "Ci'kekher here, Ca'tain."        "Admiral, I need to see you as soon as possible regarding the Mitchell Paige. Do you have time right now?"        "Yes. See me in my office in 25 minutes. Ci'kekher out." Continued in Part Four   Comments or questtons on this story? Mail Here Return to -- Epiphany Trek: The Stories The Above is a work of fiction. All characters are fictional, any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental. Copyright Susan & Garry Stahl: June 2001. All rights reserved, re-print only with permission.