<div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/66/YMR.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Alex Macauley, Tactical Officer</strong><br/><br/>Macauley's eyes widened, but that was the only outward reaction he gave to the Captain's announcement.  Years of discipline enabled him to carefully stamp out the other reactions that warred through his mind.  So he did not drop his jaw.  He did not assume this was some kind of joke.  And he did not, no matter how much he might want to, ask the Hawk if he'd been drinking.  Because none of that was going to ever, possibly end well.<br/><br/>After a moment, he said, "I'll certainly show her around the Control Room, sir, and I could always use another hand at the main plot.  With all due respect, though, I'm concerned about the possible effect on crew morale and discipline.  I can have my men empty out some storage space for the ladies and have the Master-at-Arms post a guard.  Or if you prefer we can move you into a Junior Officer stateroom.  I wouldn't mind slinging a hammock in the Aux Sonar space for a few weeks to make everything go a bit more smoothly."<br/><br/>Macauley kept his eyes very carefully fixed on the Hawk, staring straight ahead with a concentration that would have done him credit on an Annapolis parade ground.  Because having five women in the same stateroom as the Captain every night was going to turn into a disaster, and that was before you added Soviets.  Because he was going to need his rep as a straight arrow to convince the Skipper, and because he was not-<em>not</em>- going to look at the topless woman sharing the stateroom with them.  Some things were just too weird to contemplate.