The Outside Point of View
Dec. 22nd, 2015 08:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lit_galThe story starts HERE
Four
Tyrel dragged himself out of bed.
“Oh for god’s sake,” Rich muttered. “Go shoot someone.”
“I might.” Tyrel pulled on his robe and dragged himself to the door. When it opened, the indistinct voice became entirely too clear.
“Rodney, open this door!” Sheppard yelled. He pounded on it a few more times before running his hand over the chimes, not that they worked.
“Colonel, can I help you?” Tyrel asked blearily.
Sheppard gave him a dirty look. “I’m here to talk to Rodney and you’re off duty.”
Tyrel leaned against the door frame. “Yes, but you’re screaming outside my personal quarters, and my husband requested that I shoot you so he can get some sleep already.”
A flash of guilt passed over Sheppard’s face. “Rodney is not answering the comms and his door chime isn’t working.”
“His comms are routed to me unless there’s an emergency and I don’t take a radio to bed with me. And as for his chimes, he disabled them after the hundredth time someone thought it was funny to ring his bell and run away in the middle of the night. The man has to sleep at some point.”
“Yeah, well he’s not sleeping now. He’s avoiding me.” Sheppard pounded on the door again.
“Or he’s wearing the ear plugs I brought him from Earth,” Tyrel said drily. If looks could kill, Sheppard’s glare would have left bloody bits of Tyrel’s body strewn all over the room. “Can I help you with something?”
“None of my men have hot water. I reported this yesterday, and still nothing.”
Tyrel stared at Sheppard. In thirty years, he’d heard some stupid shit, but this left him speechless. “Are you trying to wake the head of science to fix your bathroom?” He had to have heard that wrong.
Sheppard’s expression turned cold. “I expect Rodney to do his damn job.”
“And his job is to fix your bathroom?” Tyrel didn’t even try to rein in his sarcasm—it was too damn late to be polite.
“His job is to make sure the city works.”
“Is it sinking?”
Sheppard crossed his arms and glared.
“If it isn’t, that’s because the only two technicians who are certified in pipe repair are working on the ballast system, which has a slow leak. I got your complaint about the hot water, but since we are a forward operating base in a militarized zone, I assumed you would be fine with cold showers for a while, so I didn’t put your bathroom down on my emergency list or discuss this with Dr. McKay. Should I wake up the man with two PhDs, who is responsible for the upkeep of nuclear generators and ask him to fix your bathroom?”
Sheppard’s face was so red that Tyrel was fairly sure he was going to stroke out. Eventually Sheppard just changed the subject. “Who’s ringing his bell in the middle of the night?” Yes, misdirection and avoidance—two classic methods for evading responsibility.
Tyrel crossed his arms over his chest. “Other than you?”
“Answer the question,” Sheppard barked.
“I don’t know. The Air Force runs the security around here, so I’m sure you could find that answer faster than I can. Can I help you with anything else, Colonel?”
Sheppard turned and stomped away, all his bad mood on display for the world to see. With a sigh, Tyrel stepped back into the room and pressed the button to close the door.
“That was pleasant,” Rich said quietly.
Tyrel slipped back into bed next to him. “The man is a walking neurosis.”
“I can see he’s made a good impression on you.”
“The whole command staff has,” Tyrel said wearily. When Carter asked for a favor, she made it a doozy.
“Carson’s nice.”
“Did you read the report on the Hoff virus? And he’s testing gene therapy on humans with no FDA approval. I’m starting to wonder if breaking regulations is some sort of religious tenant around here.”
Rich kissed his shoulder. “And we do know how you love regulations.”
“Hey, I’m not that bad.” Tyrel wrapped his arms around Rich and pulled him close.
“Yes you are. You don’t want them calling you Sergeant Brown because it offends the holy red tape gods that you’re openly gay. God forbid you be out and associated with the military.”
“The regulations don’t apply to me anymore,” Tyrel said defensively. After a moment of silence, he asked, “Does it bother you?”
“Not even a little. So tomorrow Teyla offered to take me to the mainland for a cooking demonstration with her people. If Sheppard shows up to pilot us, should I fake a broken ankle to avoid him?”
Tyrel sighed. “He’s not dangerous. He just wants what he wants.”
“When he wants it,” Rich finished for him. “He’s a bit obnoxious that way.”
“Because Dr. McKay ran himself ragged trying to fill every request. He might complain, but he does so much complaining that he dilutes his voice when it comes to real problems. I don’t think the colonel even stopped to think about how much this job was costing the doctor.”
“Oh, he’ll think now,” Rich said. He shifted around and rested his cheek on Tyrel’s shoulder before falling silent. Within minutes, Rich’s breathing had grown slow and steady in sleep. Tyrel wasn’t as lucky. He stared at the ceiling wondering how to sort this mess out. He also wondered why Carter hated him enough to drop him into this quagmire.
Five
Tyrel took a deep breath outside Weir’s office before heading into the lion’s den. “Dr. Weir? You asked to see me?” And if she was getting him out of the way so Colonel Sheppard could hunt down Dr. McKay, she was going to be disappointed. The second Tyrel told Dr. McKay about Sheppard’s late night visit, he’d grabbed his tools and headed for the plumbing system. The man charged with reverse engineering Wraith and Ancient technology was climbing through bathroom plumbing so soldiers could have hot water.
Atlantis ran like a lunatic asylum.
“Mr. Brown. Please, come in,” Dr. Weir said with a gesture toward the guest chairs. Her smile did not reach her eyes, and as Tyrel sat, her expression turned more stern. “The Daedalus is leaving in a few hours, and Colonel Caldwell informs me that you have requested all your personally items be delivered to the city.”
“Since Dr. McKay is retaining my services, I decided I needed my underwear here,” Tyrel said. If Dr. Weir wanted to go for pissy, he could respond in kind. Tiptoeing around egos never did work well. From the way her lips thinned, he was guessing she wasn’t used to being challenged in her own kingdom.
“Allow me to be blunt,” she said.
When she didn’t continue, Tyrel assumed his participation was required, so he said, “Please, do.”
“You arrived here four days ago, and in that time, the city repairs have slowed dramatically, the science department is up in arms about this memo you sent out, and Colonel Sheppard is asking for sanctions against three members of the civilian staff because you asked him to involve himself in a sophomoric prank carried out by men who are under more stress than you can understand.” She raised her eyebrows and stared at him.
“I’m glad to know it was civilians and not military people harassing Dr. McKay,” Tyrel said. If the bad feelings had infected the military side of the city, Tyrel would have needed to get more direct with Colonel Sheppard, and he didn’t see that ending well. He was also glad to hear the colonel took the harassment seriously and wanted it addressed.
Weir leaned forward. “That’s all you have to say?”
“The repairs slowed because non-emergency repairs were being dealt with by Drs. McKay and Zelenka. They are both foremost experts in alien technology and their time is most appropriate spent on research or emergency situations. Hot water is neither. And by having both men rested, if the desalinization or ZPM containment systems fail, they will be more prepared to address the problems. If you want a faster response time on non-emergency repairs, I will work with Dr. McKay to prepare a list of technical staff that would speed up that process.”
“So we just hire more people?” Dr. Weir asked in a cold voice. “And when we have expended our entire budget on salaries, how to we provide for all these people? Should I tell Colonel Sheppard we can no longer afford ammunition for his weapons? Should we forgo the small touches from home, the coffee or chocolate that has to be shipped across light years at a staggering cost? When we have no supplies and morale is at an all-time low, will you cling to your procedures then?”
Dr. Weir was good, Tyrel gave her that. She’d spotted his weakness and knew how to inspire guilt, but he had been dealing with politicians for long enough to smell the bullshit when it hit him in the face. “If you cannot afford appropriate supplies, the logical course would be to downsize either the military or civilian population.”
“Is that what you’re trying to do with this memo? Drive civilians off the city?” Weir demanded. She threw a piece of paper across the desk. Tyrel ignored it since he already knew the contents.
“Section heads are paid to review the work of subordinates and provide direction. If they fail to complete those tasks, it will be noted on formal evaluations. The entire science department cannot use Dr. McKay as a proofreader for their faulty math. If incorrect equations rise to the level of his office, there will be an official note of that.”
Weir slapped her hands down on the desk. “I chose Rodney because he can spot those errors in ten minutes where it takes another scientist a week. This is endangering the entire scientific community on Atlantis.”
Tyrel calmed his nerves and locked down his own emotions. “So you privilege their scientific progress over that of Dr. McKay?”
“It’s ten minutes of his time.”
“He has two hundred staff under him. If only one quarter of them turned in a faulty report each week, that’s nine hours of Dr. McKay’s time spent fixing errors that these scientists or their immediate supervisors could have fixed themselves. Frankly, I think the percentage who are turning in faulty reports is actually higher. Dr. McKay is losing entire days checking people’s math homework instead of researching the Wraith culling beam or improving the city shield.”
Dr. Weir chuckled. “Samantha Carter is determined to have the scientific staff here militarized, isn’t she?”
Tyrel relaxed his body and leaned back. “Not at all.”
“Perhaps she didn’t tell you the entire plan or perhaps her superiors are pulling the strings,” Dr. Weir said, “but this sudden concern from the SGC is nothing more than a ploy. They sent Rodney to Siberia. Colonel Carter actually requested his transfer. And once they use you to prove Rodney is incompetent, they’ll send him back there. I know your game.”
“Dr. Weir, you don’t know my game at all.” Tyrel stood. “I have worked for generals, so I understand how to manage genius. I know how single minded they can get. I promise you that I have only one goal here, and that is to protect Rodney McKay’s position. Until he fires me, I will continue to do that, whether I have to go up against the SGC or you. Dr. McKay is not a pipe layer. He is not a math tutor. He is an astrophysicist, and I will not put inappropriate requests though to his desk any more than I would ask you to wash dishes.”
Tyrel walked out. Now if he could find his boss and drag him away from the broken Ancient hot water heater, he might even follow through on that promise.
Four
Tyrel dragged himself out of bed.
“Oh for god’s sake,” Rich muttered. “Go shoot someone.”
“I might.” Tyrel pulled on his robe and dragged himself to the door. When it opened, the indistinct voice became entirely too clear.
“Rodney, open this door!” Sheppard yelled. He pounded on it a few more times before running his hand over the chimes, not that they worked.
“Colonel, can I help you?” Tyrel asked blearily.
Sheppard gave him a dirty look. “I’m here to talk to Rodney and you’re off duty.”
Tyrel leaned against the door frame. “Yes, but you’re screaming outside my personal quarters, and my husband requested that I shoot you so he can get some sleep already.”
A flash of guilt passed over Sheppard’s face. “Rodney is not answering the comms and his door chime isn’t working.”
“His comms are routed to me unless there’s an emergency and I don’t take a radio to bed with me. And as for his chimes, he disabled them after the hundredth time someone thought it was funny to ring his bell and run away in the middle of the night. The man has to sleep at some point.”
“Yeah, well he’s not sleeping now. He’s avoiding me.” Sheppard pounded on the door again.
“Or he’s wearing the ear plugs I brought him from Earth,” Tyrel said drily. If looks could kill, Sheppard’s glare would have left bloody bits of Tyrel’s body strewn all over the room. “Can I help you with something?”
“None of my men have hot water. I reported this yesterday, and still nothing.”
Tyrel stared at Sheppard. In thirty years, he’d heard some stupid shit, but this left him speechless. “Are you trying to wake the head of science to fix your bathroom?” He had to have heard that wrong.
Sheppard’s expression turned cold. “I expect Rodney to do his damn job.”
“And his job is to fix your bathroom?” Tyrel didn’t even try to rein in his sarcasm—it was too damn late to be polite.
“His job is to make sure the city works.”
“Is it sinking?”
Sheppard crossed his arms and glared.
“If it isn’t, that’s because the only two technicians who are certified in pipe repair are working on the ballast system, which has a slow leak. I got your complaint about the hot water, but since we are a forward operating base in a militarized zone, I assumed you would be fine with cold showers for a while, so I didn’t put your bathroom down on my emergency list or discuss this with Dr. McKay. Should I wake up the man with two PhDs, who is responsible for the upkeep of nuclear generators and ask him to fix your bathroom?”
Sheppard’s face was so red that Tyrel was fairly sure he was going to stroke out. Eventually Sheppard just changed the subject. “Who’s ringing his bell in the middle of the night?” Yes, misdirection and avoidance—two classic methods for evading responsibility.
Tyrel crossed his arms over his chest. “Other than you?”
“Answer the question,” Sheppard barked.
“I don’t know. The Air Force runs the security around here, so I’m sure you could find that answer faster than I can. Can I help you with anything else, Colonel?”
Sheppard turned and stomped away, all his bad mood on display for the world to see. With a sigh, Tyrel stepped back into the room and pressed the button to close the door.
“That was pleasant,” Rich said quietly.
Tyrel slipped back into bed next to him. “The man is a walking neurosis.”
“I can see he’s made a good impression on you.”
“The whole command staff has,” Tyrel said wearily. When Carter asked for a favor, she made it a doozy.
“Carson’s nice.”
“Did you read the report on the Hoff virus? And he’s testing gene therapy on humans with no FDA approval. I’m starting to wonder if breaking regulations is some sort of religious tenant around here.”
Rich kissed his shoulder. “And we do know how you love regulations.”
“Hey, I’m not that bad.” Tyrel wrapped his arms around Rich and pulled him close.
“Yes you are. You don’t want them calling you Sergeant Brown because it offends the holy red tape gods that you’re openly gay. God forbid you be out and associated with the military.”
“The regulations don’t apply to me anymore,” Tyrel said defensively. After a moment of silence, he asked, “Does it bother you?”
“Not even a little. So tomorrow Teyla offered to take me to the mainland for a cooking demonstration with her people. If Sheppard shows up to pilot us, should I fake a broken ankle to avoid him?”
Tyrel sighed. “He’s not dangerous. He just wants what he wants.”
“When he wants it,” Rich finished for him. “He’s a bit obnoxious that way.”
“Because Dr. McKay ran himself ragged trying to fill every request. He might complain, but he does so much complaining that he dilutes his voice when it comes to real problems. I don’t think the colonel even stopped to think about how much this job was costing the doctor.”
“Oh, he’ll think now,” Rich said. He shifted around and rested his cheek on Tyrel’s shoulder before falling silent. Within minutes, Rich’s breathing had grown slow and steady in sleep. Tyrel wasn’t as lucky. He stared at the ceiling wondering how to sort this mess out. He also wondered why Carter hated him enough to drop him into this quagmire.
Five
Tyrel took a deep breath outside Weir’s office before heading into the lion’s den. “Dr. Weir? You asked to see me?” And if she was getting him out of the way so Colonel Sheppard could hunt down Dr. McKay, she was going to be disappointed. The second Tyrel told Dr. McKay about Sheppard’s late night visit, he’d grabbed his tools and headed for the plumbing system. The man charged with reverse engineering Wraith and Ancient technology was climbing through bathroom plumbing so soldiers could have hot water.
Atlantis ran like a lunatic asylum.
“Mr. Brown. Please, come in,” Dr. Weir said with a gesture toward the guest chairs. Her smile did not reach her eyes, and as Tyrel sat, her expression turned more stern. “The Daedalus is leaving in a few hours, and Colonel Caldwell informs me that you have requested all your personally items be delivered to the city.”
“Since Dr. McKay is retaining my services, I decided I needed my underwear here,” Tyrel said. If Dr. Weir wanted to go for pissy, he could respond in kind. Tiptoeing around egos never did work well. From the way her lips thinned, he was guessing she wasn’t used to being challenged in her own kingdom.
“Allow me to be blunt,” she said.
When she didn’t continue, Tyrel assumed his participation was required, so he said, “Please, do.”
“You arrived here four days ago, and in that time, the city repairs have slowed dramatically, the science department is up in arms about this memo you sent out, and Colonel Sheppard is asking for sanctions against three members of the civilian staff because you asked him to involve himself in a sophomoric prank carried out by men who are under more stress than you can understand.” She raised her eyebrows and stared at him.
“I’m glad to know it was civilians and not military people harassing Dr. McKay,” Tyrel said. If the bad feelings had infected the military side of the city, Tyrel would have needed to get more direct with Colonel Sheppard, and he didn’t see that ending well. He was also glad to hear the colonel took the harassment seriously and wanted it addressed.
Weir leaned forward. “That’s all you have to say?”
“The repairs slowed because non-emergency repairs were being dealt with by Drs. McKay and Zelenka. They are both foremost experts in alien technology and their time is most appropriate spent on research or emergency situations. Hot water is neither. And by having both men rested, if the desalinization or ZPM containment systems fail, they will be more prepared to address the problems. If you want a faster response time on non-emergency repairs, I will work with Dr. McKay to prepare a list of technical staff that would speed up that process.”
“So we just hire more people?” Dr. Weir asked in a cold voice. “And when we have expended our entire budget on salaries, how to we provide for all these people? Should I tell Colonel Sheppard we can no longer afford ammunition for his weapons? Should we forgo the small touches from home, the coffee or chocolate that has to be shipped across light years at a staggering cost? When we have no supplies and morale is at an all-time low, will you cling to your procedures then?”
Dr. Weir was good, Tyrel gave her that. She’d spotted his weakness and knew how to inspire guilt, but he had been dealing with politicians for long enough to smell the bullshit when it hit him in the face. “If you cannot afford appropriate supplies, the logical course would be to downsize either the military or civilian population.”
“Is that what you’re trying to do with this memo? Drive civilians off the city?” Weir demanded. She threw a piece of paper across the desk. Tyrel ignored it since he already knew the contents.
“Section heads are paid to review the work of subordinates and provide direction. If they fail to complete those tasks, it will be noted on formal evaluations. The entire science department cannot use Dr. McKay as a proofreader for their faulty math. If incorrect equations rise to the level of his office, there will be an official note of that.”
Weir slapped her hands down on the desk. “I chose Rodney because he can spot those errors in ten minutes where it takes another scientist a week. This is endangering the entire scientific community on Atlantis.”
Tyrel calmed his nerves and locked down his own emotions. “So you privilege their scientific progress over that of Dr. McKay?”
“It’s ten minutes of his time.”
“He has two hundred staff under him. If only one quarter of them turned in a faulty report each week, that’s nine hours of Dr. McKay’s time spent fixing errors that these scientists or their immediate supervisors could have fixed themselves. Frankly, I think the percentage who are turning in faulty reports is actually higher. Dr. McKay is losing entire days checking people’s math homework instead of researching the Wraith culling beam or improving the city shield.”
Dr. Weir chuckled. “Samantha Carter is determined to have the scientific staff here militarized, isn’t she?”
Tyrel relaxed his body and leaned back. “Not at all.”
“Perhaps she didn’t tell you the entire plan or perhaps her superiors are pulling the strings,” Dr. Weir said, “but this sudden concern from the SGC is nothing more than a ploy. They sent Rodney to Siberia. Colonel Carter actually requested his transfer. And once they use you to prove Rodney is incompetent, they’ll send him back there. I know your game.”
“Dr. Weir, you don’t know my game at all.” Tyrel stood. “I have worked for generals, so I understand how to manage genius. I know how single minded they can get. I promise you that I have only one goal here, and that is to protect Rodney McKay’s position. Until he fires me, I will continue to do that, whether I have to go up against the SGC or you. Dr. McKay is not a pipe layer. He is not a math tutor. He is an astrophysicist, and I will not put inappropriate requests though to his desk any more than I would ask you to wash dishes.”
Tyrel walked out. Now if he could find his boss and drag him away from the broken Ancient hot water heater, he might even follow through on that promise.
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Date: 2015-12-22 10:10 pm (UTC)Thank you for continuing this!
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Date: 2015-12-22 11:42 pm (UTC)Thanks for sharing!
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Date: 2015-12-23 07:35 pm (UTC)The Outside Point of View - Chaps 4-5
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