Nurse Yahbo began chipping away at the thin layer of ice that covered most of Lt. Schrader's body. He was shivering uncontrollably beneath, and exhibited symptoms of shock as well
as hypothermia. His airway was clear, though his breathing was laborious, and she suspected he'd survive.
He opened his mouth to speak, but he could not force the words through his frozen vocal chords.
"Shhh", Nurse Yahbo said soothingly, placing a finger to his lips, "you'll be fine."
He relaxed then, allowing her to move him onto a nearby gurney. She covered him with several blankets and began rubbing his hands and arms vigorously, trying to return his circulation to some semblance of
normalcy.
"Th-th-th-th...", he stammered, his eyes conveying the words his mouth could not form.
"You're welcome", Nurse Yahbo replied with a smile so warm that, despite his condition, he thought he might melt.
Reed met Proteau and his bizarre entourage in the Commander's Conference Room and Pizzeria, taking a seat at his usual place of authority. He'd suspected he'd find VanTedly at the source of the problem, but
was surprised to see their prisoner from Old Earth present.
"Exactly what is the problem, Mr. Proteau?", he queried thoughtfully.
The security officer shifted uncomfortably under Reed's intense gaze, searching for the right way to breach the subject. Eve-Stay beat him to the punch.
"Ee way ot kay ease they oo tay ooching smay in ay ee they all hay", the Melkinian tracker reported tactlessly.
Reed mulled over the alien's statement, slowly translating the verbiage to his own tongue. Once this process was complete, he paled noticeably. The mere thought of such a union making him desire a shower.
"Is this true?", he asked VanTedly evenly.
The ensign looked everywhere but back at the Commander. "Uh, well...you see", he muttered pathetically, "it just kind of happened, ya' know."
"No, I don't know", Reed replied. "You get caught necking with an escaped prisoner from an different millennium, who bears a great deal of hostility toward the crew of the USS Escort, and whose
propensity for violence has been displayed throughout her incarceration aboard the ship, and you state that it 'just happened'?!?"
"I was going through an emotional period", VanTedly offered in his defense.
"That's no excuse!", Reed shot back. "You are a Space Fleet officer, albeit a low grade one with very little chance for advancement", he explained forcefully, "and as such, you have a responsibility
to set an example for the enlisted personnel, because they idolize us and vainly strive to be our equals." He stood and placed his palms on the table, looming over the others.
"Uh, sir", the security officer interjected.
"In a moment, Mr. Proteau", he snapped, not wanting to lose his momentum. "Don't you see people?!? If we lose the trust of those poor, sorry bastards that do all the real work, the entire
system threatens to come crashing down on our proverbial heads." His gaze swept over his audience, coming to rest on VanTedly. "Which is why your display is so detrimental to our authority.
If the uneducated ditch diggers we supervise find out what you've done, without the appearance of disciplinary action, we risk a mutiny." He noted his security officer's look of concern. "What
is it, Mr. Proteau?"
"Your hand, sir", the shape shifter uttered quietly, pointing to where his right hand rested.
Reed looked down at it curiously, his expression vague. Some cautionary memory drifted into his head and he pulled the hand away quickly, allowing the button beneath,
labeled "Public Address", to disengage.
