Enterprise: The Rediscovered Logs
Chapter 10: Crew Morale

Copyright© 2016 by The Slim Rhino

Fan Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 10: Crew Morale - An attempt at a complete rewrite of the TV series that was cut way too short due to its bad writing. One of my newer Startrek works.

Caution: This Fan Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fan Fiction   Humor   Science Fiction   Space   Aliens   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Petting   Exhibitionism   Workplace   Nudism   War  

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed checked the faces around the table. All bridge officers plus Phlox were in attendance. Even Commander Tucker, who had tested his current beer limit the evening before, appeared reasonably bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

The captain had not thought highly of calling yet another meeting, citing the plan to keep the number to a reasonable minimum, but Malcolm had insisted; neither did he think highly of having been appointed the ship's morale officer. On any properly run ship, that was the job of the senior enlisted non-com, but alas, this wasn't a properly run ship – yet.

If the ship's commanding officer insisted on having him as the morale officer, said commanding officer would just have to live with the fact that Malcolm Stuart Reed would do the job with the same thoroughness as he would care for the ship's armaments. And that included attending the required meetings.

Following the captain's handing over of the meeting's chairmanship, he began to outline his plans.

"As appointed to do by Captain Archer, I have worked out some suggestions for raising and maintaining crew morale. As part of that I have evaluated the current crew morale under the provision that for most parts of the crew the four days we have been under way would not provide a realistic picture. I did, however, encounter signs of exhaustion among the engineering crew, many of whom have been on the ship since the start of final assembly."

"Well, some could use some R&R," the chief engineer agreed.

"I will address possible solutions later," the Armory Officer continued. "One further problem that I have encountered is that there is too close a mingling of non-commissioned personnel and commissioned officers. This can cause problems in the future; as any boomer will readily explain, not everybody out here will be best pleased by our arrival and we will not get very far if officers find themselves unable to hand out difficult orders to crewmen they've become too familiar with."

"What are your suggestions, Lieutenant?"

The tone of the captain's voice left no doubt that he didn't like this observation, but one day he could be thankful for it when things weren't all that rosy and some bloody Klingons were taking pot-shots at them. He wished he could bring some examples from his time in the Section. That would convince him in a bloody hurry.

There were times when the less-than-respectful appellation 'Amateur!' insinuated itself into his mind when he was dealing with his new captain. This was one of the times. He had to be even more than usually careful to employ the appropriate respect when this happened.

"I propose moving the situation room to the security office on D deck. I don't need two offices and the one in the Armoury is more than sufficient for the purpose. After we've freed up the current – more than oversized – situation room, we setup a wardroom instead."

"Forgive my ignorance," Hoshi butted in. "What is a wardroom?"

"It is a mess-cabin for officers, ensign," he explained a little stiffly. "Every commissioned officer has his or her meal there. Traditionally it also contains recreational elements – a bar, billiards, or whatever else is deemed appropriate. I think we should be able to acquire some necessary items at the Starbase."

"What's your take on the idea, ensign? As a boomer you've been out in space long enough."

With satisfaction Malcolm took note of the fact that the captain was actively using the experience of people, irrespective of their rank. He did not always approve of the relatively lax command style of Captain Archer, but nothing was as bad as a commanding officer who failed to use the experience of his crew. It was good to see that the American was not such a captain.

"Lieutenant Reed has a point, sir. On a boomer ship things are relatively easy as most officers come from the same family and that means they keep to themselves anyway. You need a certain distance. If someone has to go out in an EV suit to repair a hull breach, there is a chance he or she doesn't come back. We certainly won't send out Commander Tucker, but he will have to give the order deciding who will go out. That can be a bit tricky if it has to be a buddy he shares a beer with every other day."

Malcolm nodded his agreement with the helmsman's assessment. Cleverly the young pilot had used an example that could become reality at any time, and not only in combat. His opinion of Ensign Mayweather went up a notch; that was a classic example of tactical thinking.

"The problem is – what good does it do to have that separation in conjunction with the suspended no-frats? Admiral Forest's order says that sex is allowed irrespective of rank. We separate from the non-coms during the meals, but we're allowed to take them to bed? That's a bit crazy, if you ask me."

Commander Tucker did of course have a point. Malcolm suspected, however, that in light of last evening's discussion, the chief engineer probably hoped that a re-installation of the no-frat rules would take the awkward decision off his hands whether to hope and wait for that elusive chance with T'Pol or do something to alleviate his quite obvious sexual frustration.

"I will address that point, as there are several points to consider with regard to Admiral Forrest's order. Before that I wish to address some other, less complicated points on my list. Is there any objection to setting up the wardroom?"

When none came, he ticked off the item on his list and assured the captain that he would send in the required request forms. He noted that Archer was looking slightly restive at this indication of his rigid adherence to protocol, and restrained a faint smile as he proceeded.

"There have been several proposals from the crew for possible cultural activities, ranging from card playing clubs to dances, which would work well with the two bands that have apparently been founded. Provided that Commander Tucker and his teams find a solution for the swimming pool in C47, there would be a substantial demand for it, including regular reserved hours for nude swimming if the demand for it is there."

With a sidelong glance at Ensign Sato, he saw the predictable – very interested – smile. That would mean Commander Tucker would probably be very regularly reminded of the need to find a solution for the gravity problem. That said, he himself had reservations as to whether huge bodies of water in a starship were really a good thing; gravity plating can go offline, and when it does, anything that can't be secured is liable to pose a very serious problem. Especially if this happened during a conflict. From his own point of view, of course, a huge body of water was always a problem – especially if he happened to be anywhere near it. And knowing his luck...

"I have a list of other proposals, but I submit that full disclosure here would be unnecessarily time-consuming. I will distribute a list of all proposed activities and every one of you can offer potential objections in written form."

Seeing the accepting nods from around the table (a relieved one, from the captain), he ticked the second box.

"Last but not least, there is the delicate topic of Admiral Forrest's standing order to allow sexual relations between crew members. Commander Tucker has voiced one of the reasons why there are potential problems with that. I would therefore suggest that we keep a ban on intimacy between non-commissioned personnel and commissioned officers to avoid the conflict that Commander Tucker has pointed out."

"Do we have any information about the change in potential partners that would bring about?" T'Pol asked. "The male-to-female ratio was already rather unfavorable for the males."

"It would change a little for the worse regarding non-commissioned personnel," Malcolm said. "We have twenty-five officers, of whom thirteen are male, one transgender and ten female. The male-to-female ratio among non-coms would therefore worsen slightly."

"So, basically we've got fewer than twenty women among the non-coms and over forty men. Give or take a few, who are homosexual on both sides, unless the twelve or something girls are raging nymphomaniacs, the whole thing wouldn't work out," the chief engineer argued. "As it is now, everybody is in the same boat as the crew doesn't know yet about the relaxed no-frats. So everybody knows nobody is getting laid. If we allow it, a few lucky guys get laid and the rest end up even more frustrated than they are now."

Yes, Malcolm thought to himself, the chief engineer definitely wanted the no-frats upheld. Granted, he had objected to them from the start, but the dilemma he found himself in had definitely strengthened his resolve.

"It's obvious that nobody in Starfleet has thought about the implications of sending out a ship for years," the lieutenant agreed. "Even the longest naval missions last no longer than six months and some of the engineering crew have gone a hell of a lot longer than that already without much chance to return to the planet."

He saw the slight blush creeping up Trip's face and continued his report.

"What is your take on it, Doctor?" he asked the Denobulan.

Phlox had been listening intently, clearly especially interested in this particular subject, and responded with enthusiasm.

"Commander Tucker's argument is of course valid, but I would strictly advise against upholding the ban on sexual contact. I will of course not give the name of any crew members, but I have already had several clandestine inquiries about the availability of contraceptives and personal lubricants. Especially the latter fact suggests that we have a significant number of homosexual males among the crew, or of course, females interested in anal intercourse. The gender imbalance might not be as sizeable as the raw data suggests."

"I concur with the doctor's assessment," Malcolm continued. "I think not implementing Admiral Forrest's order would only penalize what is inevitably going to happen. Some men will end up left out, but we can't solve that problem; it's inevitable, given the gender imbalance. But we might solve it for some."

"Have you thought about measures to prevent my ship from becoming a flying swinger's club, Lieutenant?"

The captain's slightly acid question made it clear that he better had have done so.

He fielded it equably. If the thought occurred to him of what his father would have found to say about part of his son's duties now effectively requiring him to act as a pander for the crew, he suppressed it. The hard fact was that human nature was human nature, and if you can't prevent something the next best thing is to control it.

"As a matter of fact I have, sir. I have already talked to Ensign Sato about programming an interactive database – a sort of 'dating system' enabling crew members to match up with compatible partners without the need to have their sexual orientation or preferences disseminated via rumours. Further, I want to task Phlox with setting up a regime of quarterly health checks for all crewmen signed-up to the system. It is my hope that personnel will prefer finding possible intimate partners with the security of a health-check instead of relying on random matches with the associated risks."

"This would also allow females with a preference for changing partners to find them without having to announce that preference publicly," T'Pol supplied.

"Sounds like a plan," the chief engineer admitted. "But why hope that people use the system? Why not make it mandatory? If people are caught making out who have not been matched via your system, it's a breach of the rules. That way you prevent people from sidestepping Phlox's health-check and we don't end up as the 'Chlamydia bomber'."

"Leaves the problem how you want to check that," Hoshi noted. "If people think it's a database where everybody can look up who has slept with whom, nobody in his right mind will use it."

"I'd hazard a guess that among eighty-five crewmen we'll find one who doesn't sign up," the chief argued. "Make that person an ombudsman, sworn to secrecy and only allowed to access such info as part of an official disciplinary inquiry."

Ah – another angle. Seeing that he would be outvoted in keeping the no-frats, the Commander would probably volunteer to be that person. Just any reason and any route to condemn himself to celibacy seemed okay for the engineer. Malcolm sighed inwardly. He'd debated mentally if he should drop a hint to Hoshi, in hopes that she would talk some sense into the daft haddock of a Floridian, but he was convinced that T'Pol had noticed Trip's evasive tactics. The Vulcan had been eyeing the engineer's face since the first time he had blushed.

"I think we're making this overly complicated," the captain interrupted. "As the captain there is no way I can take part in this. That means I will oversee the database, and access to the delicate data is forbidden – period. Attending the regular health checks with Phlox is mandatory for all, whether they are Mata Hari or the Pope. Who doesn't show up will be reminded of it by a night in the brig. That way it doesn't matter if they establish contact via that system or not."

"Sounds reasonable, sir," Malcolm agreed, surprised but mildly pleased that his CO was taking a firm line on this.

"One more problem," the captain noted. "The non-comms bunk with two in a room. That's not exactly the private setting they need. I don't want to end up with crewmen having sex in a Jeffries tube."

"Neither do I!" the chief engineer added, his tone heartfelt.

"We have three guest quarters. How about making one available for ... private meetings?" Malcolm said. "We would of course need proper protocols for cleaning up afterwards. 'Leave it as you'd expect to find it', that sort of thing."

The Captain nodded. His expression was one of resignation; at a guess, this sort of thing wasn't something he'd expected to become involved in organizing.

"Implement it that way, Lieutenant. We'll go for now with your proposed separation of officers and non-comms. Program that system, document it and coordinate with Phlox about establishing appropriate regulations regarding the matter, especially safe sex. We don't want to come back with forty children aboard."

 
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