Conversations on the Fortune's Smile: One

Nerila Janianial leaned against the bulkhead in main engineering and watched Michael Mitcheson tightening the fasteners on the cover of the afterburner control unit. From the steady stream of obscenities he muttered under his breath as he worked it was a tricky job. Nerila folded her arms and waited for an opportunity to interrupt. 

Mitch dropped his wrench, stooped to pick it up and glanced over his shoulder. "You just here to watch me bend over?" he asked. "Or can I help you with something?"  

Nerila grinned. "Not that I mind the view," she said. "But I came down to ask you to run the diagnostics on the capsule biotelemetry again."

"That'll be the fourth time since Sunday," Mitch said, turning back to his work. "You think I've been doing it wrong?"

Nerila shook her head. "No. But those readings ... either they're a ghost, or there's a problem. I'm really hoping they're a ghost."

"Ghost?" Mitch asked. He dropped his wrench back in his toolbox and turned to look at her, wiping oil off his hands with a rag. "You believe in all that? Spirits of the dead, wandering around spaceships?"

Nerila laughed. "No. I mean - you see something on your sensors sometimes that isn't there?"

"Sure. Sensor shadow." Mitch shrugged. "Interference, maybe."  

"Ghost in the machine," Nerila said.  

"Nah," Mitch said. "Not in the diagnostics. I'da seen it by now. No shadows, no 'ghosts'. The circuits are clean."

"Okay then," Nerila said.  

Mitch stuffed the rag back into his pocket and started packing up the rest of his tools. "What kind of problem you think we have?"  

"Not 'we'," Nerila corrected.  

"Pilot's problems are everybody's problems when the ship's out of dock," Mitch said. He studied her a second. "Maybe you're reading the telemetry wrong, think of that? Maybe check with a real doctor?"

"I  am a real doctor," Nerila said.

"Crew manifest says otherwise," Mitch said, but without spite. "Says 'Acting'. Says 'unlicensed'."

"I  had a licence," Nerila said. "Piece of paper to prove I could do the job. Losing the licence doesn't mean I can't still do what I could do before."

Mitch shrugged. "Depends on why you lost the licence, dunnit?" he said.  

"You already know the headline version," Nerila said. She unfolded her arms and ticked off on her fingers: "Got my licence, got a habit, went to work for the Syndicate. Got caught, lost my licence, lost my habit. Here I am."

"I heard Pilot was going to pull some strings, sort that out," Mitch said.

Nerila shrugged. "Pilot's going to sort everything out in the Cluster,  she thinks. Can't get anything done that way. First thing I learnt when I started out: you got a medbay full of people screaming and bleeding, you can't try to fix them all at the same time. You have to decide what you're after, and look straight at it, and not look anywhere else 'till it's done."

"What are you looking straight at now, then?" Mitch asked.  

Nerila grinned. "Looking straight at you, Michael Mitcheson."  

He met her gaze, one corner of his mouth twitching in response. "Any particular reason?"

"It's a year today since I became a free woman," Nerila said. "Wanna come help me celebrate? Find somewhere on this station where we can get a drink and dinner and maybe dance a little. Even Lai Dai Caldari must pull that pole out of their posterior occasionally."

"Dinner and dancing, maybe," Mitch said. "I gotta stay off the booze, though. Luisa will tear me a new one if I get into another fight."

"You fight because you been drinking, or you drink as an excuse to get in a fight?" Nerila asked.

"You nosey because you're a medico, or you become a medico to give you an excuse to be nosey?"

Nerila shrugged. "Six of one, half a dozen of the other."

"Well, snap." Mitch tossed his toolbox in a locker and shut it firmly. "Make you a deal. I won't throw any punches if you'll keep the inquisition to a minimum."

"Sounds fair," Nerila said. "So, you coming? No time like the present."  

"The XO will have our hides if she hears about this," Mitch said. "You're the CMO, I'm the Chief Engineer - you know what she thinks of ship-board romances."

"Who said anything about romance?" Nerila said. "It's my  medical opinion that you're due for a complete physical. And Idefinitely need an oil change."

Mitch grinned. "Good thing I kept my certifications up to date, then," he said.  

Nerila smiled back. "Lucky for  both of us, I'd say." 

Nerila turned toward the door. She didn't need to look back to know Mitch followed.