TITLE: The Other Duty
AUTHOR: Michael J. Gallagher ( mikejoe@odyssey.net )
SYNOPSIS: Harper learns he is more than just Rommie's engineer .....
DISLCAIMER: GRA is owned by Tribune; I am making no money off this, so don't bother suing me .... unless you want to punish me for writing a fic I came up with before I had my orange juice.
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"'Morning, guys," Beka managed as she came on to the bridge, a coffee cup in her hand.
"Good Morning, Beka," Rommie, the ship's android avatar, said from the first officer's station.
"Ship's status A-OK!" Trance chirped, disgustingly energetic at the ungodly hour of 0930.
"Huhr." Beka sipped some coffee. "Someday, Trance, we're going to have to do something about that."
"About what?" the purple-skinned girl asked.
"Never mind."
Beka moved towards the XO's podium, and Rommie almost flew out of it before Beka's foot had touched the step.
"What, do I smell bad or sumpin?" Beka meant it as a joke.
Rommie was almost defensive. "No; just giving you some space."
"You never give Harper or Tyr some space," Trance said innocently.
Beka's brain was just awake enough to pick up on that. "Yeah ... in fact, Rommie, now that I think about it, you're almost never too far from HARPER, now, are you? I mean, when we all have to meet a V. I. P., you're next to Harper in the lineup."
"I imagine it works out that way, sometimes," Rommie said.
"Some -- ? Trance, can you remember a time when Rommie wasn't right at Harper's elbow when some high muckamuck came aboard?"
"Never," Trance said.
"Not Dylan's elbow -- Harper's," Beka went on. "And when he's on duty, if he stands still longer than five seconds, you end up at most ten feet from him. Why is that?"
"I don't know what you mean, Beka." Rommie moved to the flight control station. Bad move -- it gave Trance and Beka a chance to surround her.
"C'Mon, Rommie," Beka said. "We're all friends here, and we've all been around. You can tell us. Just ..... girl stuff. Right, Trance?"
"Right," Trance said. "I promise I won't tell a soul -- "
"Trance -- " Beka warned.
"I won't tell anybody!" Trance affirmed.
"See?" Beka said. "C'Maaawwwwnnnn, just between us. We'll understand, really."
Rommie looked at one of the big main screens. "I don't have to answer that, do I?"
The main A. I. appeared. "Yeah, I do."
"It wasn't framed as a formal request -- "
"Yeah, but I still have to tell 'em." The image shrugged. "So log a complaint to the High Guard's intelligeneering section." She left the screen.
"WWweeeeellllll?" Beka and Trance prompted.
"It's not what you think," Rommie said. "We can agree that in spite of a .... 'colorful' personality, Harper is .... I believe the word is 'cute.'"
"Oh, very cute," Trance said.
"Almost unbearably so," Beka said, "sometimes."
"Yes," Rommie said, " .... well, in the face of that, I get certain .... urges."
"What kind of urges?" Trance asked.
"Yeah, what kind?" Beka said, smiling lewdly.
Rommie told them.
Beka and Trance were still laughing five minutes later.
"I, uh-huh," Beka finally managed, "I have to see that!"
"Yeah," Trance said, "me too!"
"What!" Rommie yelped. "Here, on the bridge!?"
"Yes, here!" Trance said.
"NOW!" Beka pressed. "As soon as he comes on duty."
"But that'll humil -- "
"You have your orders," Beka said, managing to sound very serious.
Rommie got a pained look on her face.
At that moment, the big bridge doors slid open, admitting Dylan, Tyr and Harper. (Trance and Beka started to edge towards the rear stations, where they would get a good view when the "fun" began.)
" ..... agree gyro platform three must be recalibrated," Tyr was saying, "but the missile launchers also require maintenance."
"Hey, no prob," Harper said. "There's only one of me."
"Ok," Dylan said. "Tyr, I think Rommie can handle the missile launchers on her own; that should free Harper to take care of the gyros. And move it to the top of the list, Mr. Harper; I don't like flirting with gimbal lock in the middle of a combat situation."
"Will do, Boss." Harper ascended the XO's podium .... Rommie right behind him. (Dylan noted Beka and Trance's snickering; 'It's going to be one of *those* days, isn't it?' he thought.)
"Got that, Rom Doll?" Harper said. "You take the missiles, and move gyro three to the top of my list."
"Of course," Rommie said .... and inhaled. "I wouldn't want to overwork my widdle Harpie-Poo."
It took Harper a full two seconds to realize what Rommie had said. "Wh-wh-what?"
Dylan's head snapped to the ship's engineer and avatar. "Oh, no, I was afraid of this."
"What -- ?" Tyr said. "You mean ... ?"
Rommie snaked her arms around Harper from behind before he knew what was happening. "I wuv my iddle Harpie-Poo." Then she started singing something jarringly off-key and inhuman in his ear.
"What ... ?" Tyr said.
"A Than lullaby," Dylan said. "My bets are it's a long one."
Tyr shook his head. "I'd heard the stories, but I always thought .... "
"They're true," Dylan said; he couldn't help but notice Beka and Trance doubled-over with laughter at the rear stations. 'Yep, one of *those* days.'
"SOMEONE WANNA LET ME IN ON THE BIG SECRET?" Harper wailed. (Beka and Trance almost incapacitated themselves, laughing harder.)
Dylan crossed to a point in front of the XO's podium, doing his best to appear serious and sympathetic. "Mr. Harper. It is my duty to inform you that this officially confirms that you are not just the ship's engineer."
"I'm not?"
"No," Dylan said. "You are also her teddy bear."
THE END
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