Pilot Episode, Act II

"That means the sensors should be re-calibrated, damn. I'll have to..." Avery has been muttering under her breath, taking mental notes of the situation. This comes to a halt at Oobadek's request, and she just stares at him for a second. "Help me?" Apprehension, irritation, fear; all flash across her face as she tries to process this. At last her body language relaxes, if only slightly.

"...Fine. Oobadek, what do you suggest?" She manages to grumble out, clearly not happy about asking.

The camera cuts to a reaction shot of Oobadek's face before cutting back to the captain's ready room. McCurry is shifting in her chair and looking slightly exasperated as we hear Admiral Alvarez's voice on the comm link. "Don't give me that look, captain. I know you know what I'm talking about."

Cut to a shot of Alvarez on the screen. She's looking pretty exasperated, too, but she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. When she looks back at McCurry, her expression is almost maternal. "Tabby, I'm probably the only person in the universe who knows exactly how being back at the Tangle is affecting you emotionally. If you can't be honest with yourself, at least be honest with me."

Captain McCurry grows increasingly fidgety in her seat, until finally, she pushes herself up out of her chair with a sudden, exasperated movement. She turns away from the screen, and draws in a deep breath. Her facial expression is hidden, but she tilts her head back to look toward the ceiling as she lets out the breath. She touches her fingertips to her temples and continues to breathe deeply for a moment.

"I can't stop thinking about them, Admiral," she says finally, and as she turns back around to face the screen, it's a very different Tabitha McCurry. She looks... small, somehow. Haunted. Embarrassed.

"All of them. Jackson. Verrit. Adayis. All the others. I look out at the Tangle, and I hear their voices. They died because of my poor judgement, Sonia. I've hardly slept in days."

The camera shifts back to the screen, where Alvarez nods, looking gratified. "Okay, now that it's out in the open, we can talk about it. Sit down, Tabby."

When McCurry sits, she continues. "We didn't know Entanglement Psychosis existed back then. Now, we do. We can't go back in time and diagnose you then, but we can acknowledge that your behavior certainly bore many of the hallmarks of EP. If you're going to insist that those people died because of your poor judgment, you must also allow that your judgment was impaired by the then-unknown neurological impact from the Tangle."

McCurry folds her hands in front of her mouth, and lets the Admiral's words sink in before replying. She releases a sigh and chooses her words carefully. "You might be right. I don't know that I agree that EP is the answer, but I'm willing to entertain the possibility," she says. "But if you are right... should I even be here? How can I be in command if a voice at the back of my head is constantly questioning whether it's me making that decision, or the Tangle?"

Her hands fall and grip the arms of her chair as she searches Alvarez' face for her reaction to the idea.

Alvarez looks stern. "The time for asking that question, captain, was before you accepted the promotion and the assignment."

She huffs a sigh. When she speaks again, it's with less impatience. "Your ship's counselor is the leading authority on Entanglement Psychosis in... well, in the known universe, so far. There are diagnostic protocols in place, and all members of the crew, including you, will have regular sessions and examinations. Frankly, you're in a much safer neurological position now than you were four years ago."

She smirks. "But if you do hear a voice at the back of your head, I suggest you report that to Counselor Mitsk and Dr. T'Shen immediately."

"Admiral, I always hear a voice at the back of my head," says McCurry.

She lets that admission sit for a moment before she gives Alvarez a slightly impudent grin and adds, "It's yours."

Alvarez returns the grin. "You're damn right it is. And I expect you to listen to it. Good hunting, Captain McCurry. Alvarez out."

McCurry leans back in her chair, looking truly, honestly relaxed for the first time as she ends the comm and looks for a long while at the empty screen.

She looks out over the debris littering the ready room, and pushes herself up and tries to summon up the energy to tackle more unpacking. She opens a crate and takes a couple of odds and ends out; as the camera closes in, they're revealed as books. One is a copy of Newton's Principia Mathematica, another a collection of Stephen Hawking's academic publications. This brings a fond smile to her face, as she runs her fingers over the spines of the books. She sets them on the corner of the desk nearby, and starts to poke around in the crate. Gradually, her interest clearly wanes, and she looks back over her shoulder at the door to the bridge.

Her lips twist in thought, glancing at the door again, and then she waves a hand at the still-packed-up crates and walks out to the bridge.

Cut to the interior of the bridge. As the captain heads toward the command chair, we hear Security Chief Iron Eyes, her voice raised in exasperation.

"I have told you three times, authorization was sent by Lt. Blakeney last week."

A voice over the audio comm is heard responding, "As I have repeatedly explained, lieutenant, Mr. Blakeney was then acting as Chief of Operations for Gaia Station, not for the U.S.S. Hodgkin."

Iron Eyes punches a button - the mute button, one presumes - then slaps the console and utters a short howl of frustration. It is just after this that she finally becomes aware of the captain on the bridge and looks prepared to endure a reprimand.

The poor timing -- well, poor depending on who you ask -- is exquisite, that's for certain.

As the captain exits the bridge to the howl, she turns a mild smile on Iron Eyes, though it's easy enough to see the twinkle in her eyes as she says, "I didn't think I'd done anything particularly controversial in the past hour that would warrant a frustrated scream, Lieutenant."

She tilts her head slightly, eyebrows raised, with an unspoken question, letting Iron Eyes explain on her own time.

Iron Eyes allows an expression of relief to flash over her face so briefly that one might question whether they'd even seen it. She takes a breath and straightens up, saying, "Sir, Hazard Control on Gaia Station has issued a denial of clearance for the Hodgkin to leave when we're ready to depart. They say that we have not submitted the proper paperwork authorizing the ship to carry certain dangerous substances contained in the uncertainty drive."

She leans forward and lowers her voice slightly. "The manager of Hazard Control is a Strynian, captain. I don't know whether you've dealt with any before, but they are born bureaucrats - all about the letter of the law, uncompromising on matters of strict protocol. The problem is that Gaia operations submitted the paperwork on behalf of the ship last week, because the ship technically had no operations personnel at the time."

"And the Strynian is refusing to accept it because it wasn't ship personnel that filed the paperwork," says McCurry. Clearly she's dealt with Strynians before.

She shakes her head. "The trick, Lieutenant, is to cite Starfleet regulations chapter and verse. Would you mind if I spoke to our Strynian friend?"

That twinkle in her eyes is still there, and that mild smile grows just a little bit more devious.

Iron Eyes raises an eyebrow at her captain's devious smile, a tiny smile of her own just barely perceptible. She raises her arm in invitation to come back to the console. "His name is Lieutenant Vreyy, sir."

McCurry reopens the comm to the hazard control manager.

"Hello? Lieutenant Vreyy? This is Captain Tabitha McCurry of the USS Hodgkin. I understand you've uncovered some irregularities in our Hazard Control authorization?" she says, standing relaxed and calm with her hands clasped behind her back.

"Could you please fill me in on the situation?"

With clear confidence, Captain McCurry smiles back at Vreyy. "Yes, Lieutenant, I am aware of that regulation, and under the circumstances, I'm sure you will understand why the paperwork by necessity was filed in such a way."

Before Vreyy can protest, though, she holds up her hands to fend off any immediate arguments. "Not that I am asking you to go against this regulation, not by any means." She flashes what might be construed as a winning smile, "I certainly believe in regulations, I assure you. However, I believe that Starfleet Regulation 617-gamma, section 42, article 3, paragraph 25, in which emergency orders from any Starfleet officer ranked above Captain supersede all routine hazardous transport authorizations."

Indeed, her response sounds perfectly legitimate, spoken smooth and calm without hesitation.

"Given that we do indeed have emergency orders from Admiral Hamilton himself, I would like to request that we be allowed to depart Gaia Station as soon as we can. I'd be happy to forward our orders to you, Lieutenant. I'm sure you'd like to have official records."

The way McCurry's expression goes from pleasant to flat suggests that it hadn't been a veiled threat, but it's about to become one. "Lieutenant Vreyy," she says with exaggerated calm, "the ship's operations officer did file the proper paperwork. Lieutenant Blakeney is the Hodgkin's operations officer. I politely request that your office grant us the necessary clearance so that we may avoid a potential diplomatic disaster with a new Federation ally."

She rests her hands atop the back of the captain's seat as she fixes Vreyy's image on screen with a brittle smile.