Everybody Knows (four things the Enterprise crew thought were true and one that was)
2) Everybody knows there’s a still in Engineering
Spock surveyed the crowded mess hall calmly, considering various ways he might broach the subject he had come to discuss once he’d located the person he was looking for. While he was in no way nervous or apprehensive, he did not anticipate the impending conversation with pleasure.
It was pleasure he felt, however, when he saw Nyota seated at a table near the back of the mess, smiling and laughing merrily. He was so captivated by her that it was several moments before he realized she was sharing the table with Lieutenant Sulu and Lieutenant Commander Scott.
Just - as he understood the saying goes - the man he was looking for.
As he approached the table, Lieutenant Sulu appeared to be relating something of great importance to Mister Scott. The latter’s expression transformed from what Spock would term “surprised” to “abashed” and then to “amused.” The man really did have unusually mobile features.
Nyota was the first to notice him. “Hello, Commander,” she said, smiling.
Mister Scott and Lieutenant Sulu ceased their conversation - something to do with Ensign Chekov, from what little he had heard - and turned their heads to look at him.
“Good afternoon, Lieutenant Uhura, Lieutenant Sulu, Lieutenant Commander Scott,” he responded, nodding at each in turn.
“Care to join us, Commander?” Mister Scott asked, indicating one of the open seats with a wave of his hand.
Lieutenant Sulu checked his communicator and muttered something under his breath. Returning his attention to Spock, he said, “My apologies, Commander, but I’m due back on shift in a few minutes,” and began putting his empty dishes on his tray.
“I should be getting back, too,” Nyota said, gracefully sliding out of her seat and picking up her tray. Spock was concerned to see an untouched plate of chili fries and half-eaten piece of chocolate cake on her tray. Noticing his gaze, she grinned. “Sulu and I got to talking and I lost track of time. I’ll grab something during break.”
Nodding his understanding, she headed toward the exit, making sure her hair brushed his arm as she passed. While their relationship was not secret, they chose not to engage in obvious displays of affection while in public. As a result, he found these small, seemingly unintentional moments of physical contact extremely enjoyable.
As Nyota and Lieutenant Sulu disposed of their dishes, Spock returned his attention to Mister Scott, who was looking up at him with a wide grin. “Well, looks like it’s just you and me, Mister Spock.” Once again, he gestured the empty seat across from him and turned his attention to his lasagna.
Taking the indicated seat, Spock said, “Actually, Mister Scott, I came here to speak with you, if you do not mind me interrupting your lunch.”
Mister Scott raised his eyebrows in surprise, replying, “If you don’t mind me eating while you’re speaking, I don’t mind you speaking while I’m eating.” He took another bite of his pasta and looked back at Spock expectantly.
Spock found he was somewhat uncertain about how to proceed, but it was too late to back out now and if what he had heard was true, the issue needed to be addressed and corrected immediately.
“Mister Scott, I am not given to participate in discussions of the Enterprise personnel’s off-duty activities and personal lives. However, in the interest of maintaining the safety and morale of the crew, I make a point of keeping aware of what information is being shared amongst the crewmembers,” he began.
The chief engineer chuckled quietly and took a sip of his water. “You’re not one to gossip, but you do hear things through the grapevine. Got it, Mister Spock,” he replied with a grin.
Colloquial but succinct.
Clearing his throat, Spock began, “Mister Scott, please do not take what I am about to say as an accusation or any way meant to impugn your work, which has been exemplary.” Mister Scott’s worried look made Spock realize that perhaps his opening remark had not had the reassuring effect he’d intended. “It has been brought to my attention that several members of the crew are of the belief that there is an apparatus for the distillation of vegetable matter into alcohol aboard ship. Specifically, in the engineering department, which, if true, presents a significant-“
“A still?! In Engineering?!” While the volume of Mister Scott’s voice had not increased significantly, the…vehemence of his words certainly had.
Face flushed, he leaned forward across the table. “Do you know *dangerous* that is? Ethanol in gaseous form? And under extreme heat?”
Spock opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off as the chief engineer began gesticulating, his fork still clutched in his hand. “Aerosolized ethanol is extremely volatile. Just one spark could set off an explosion. Imagine the damage something like that could do to Engineering. It could take out some of the ship’s most important systems, including life support.”
“No Commander,” he continued, frowning, “there may be many of us who enjoy a tot of an evening, but nobody in Engineering - especially not me - would risk the safety of this ship or her crew for something so inconsequential.”
“Is there a problem, gentlemen?” Spock had been so focused on Mister Scott’s emotional tirade, he had not realized the captain was standing next to the table, looking curiously between himself and the chief engineer.
Mister Scott had obviously been unaware of the captain’s approach but recovered quickly. “No problem at all, Captain. Mister Spock had heard a rumor that there was a still in Engineering and I was just explaining why that could not be true.”
Captain Kirk smiled. “Of course. Ethanol it its gaseous form is highly flammable…”
“Exactly!” Mister Scott agreed.
Before either of the men could continue, Spock interrupted. “In no way did I mean to imply that Chief Engineer Scott would do anything to jeopardize the integrity of the ship or the safety of its crew.” Facing Mister Scott directly, he continued, “I apologize if what I said offended you.”
Scott waved off his apology before he had the chance to finish. “No offence taken, Mister Spock. None at all. You were right to bring this to my attention and I appreciate you telling me. If you hear anymore gossip about what may or may not be going on in my engineering department, please let me know.” Just as quickly as Mister Scott’s temper had flared up, it was gone and he had returned to his natural easygoing demeanor.
“Good!” the captain said, clapping his hands together. “Glad you were able to get that cleared up. And, thank you, Spock, for letting Scotty know what folks were talking about behind his back. Best to let the department heads know and let them stop the gossip at the source, right?”
“You are welcome, Captain.” Spock rose from the table. “I should be getting back to my station. Mister Scott,” he said, nodding to the chief engineer.
“Always good to talk with you, Mister Spock, and thank you again for telling me,” he replied, looking down at his lasagna and poking the now-cold pasta with his fork.
“I am glad I could be of assistance,” Spock said. “Captain,” he nodded to his commanding officer, who returned the gesture.
Relieved to have the matter settled, Spock headed out of the mess hall, he stopping to pick up an apple and a protein bar for Nyota. Perhaps he could convince her to take her next break with him in his quarters.
- - -
Kirk slid into the seat Spock had just vacated, watching as his first officer grabbed something from the snack case before making his way out of the mess.
He returned his attention to Scotty, who was dissecting his lasagna to get to the part near the center that was still warm.
“So…” Kirk began, finally getting Scotty’s attention, “botany lab, right?”
Scotty grinned, nodding. “Got it one, Captain. Safest place for it by far. And if that juniper that Sulu planted actually produces some berries, we’ll be having gin in our martinis, as is only right and proper.”
“You’re a man after my own heart, Scotty,” Kirk replied, laughing.
“Thank you, Captain,” Scotty said. “But you’ll have to let Doctor McCoy know that, unless we can get our hands on a barrel or two, whisky, bourbon or rye just won’t be poss-"
Before he could finish his question, there was an incoming message beep and both men checked their comms. “Sorry,” Scotty said, reading the message. “Looks like A’n’leth is having a problem replacing a coolant valve. Apparently, having seven fingers on each hand isn’t always helpful. If you’ll excuse me, Captain?”
“Of course,” Kirk said as Scotty got up from the table and grabbed his tray. Kirk decided he should get something to eat and went over to see what was available. As Scotty walked past on his way out of the mess, Kirk could hear his chief engineer muttering to himself.
“A still in Engineering… Daft, the lot of them…”
Chapter Three