Deck thirty-six was a lot bigger than just Main Engineering, and the legs of Brynna wynDavies were beginning to protest at just how much bigger it was. Sure, she could tell herself that she had been down here in Engineering all the time the Chief had been greeting the Captain’s party and that was why the larger man was leaving her behind now, but she knew that he’d been down here for two shifts before that with no end in sight, so she couldn’t use that excuse.
In fact, watching him march tirelessly no matter where they went in this sensor glitch hunt - Jeffries Tube, corridor, accessway - made her homesick for the Ambush, which was so much smaller than this whale of a starship.
Thank goodness they were now headed back to Main Engineering, for she really didn’t know how her commanding officer would react to her abrupt collapse if they’d had to go too much further!
"Oh, I’m so glad we found that when we did!" Rell was enthusing as he patiently waited for the pale Terran woman to catch up to him yet again, kindly adjusting his pace to match hers as he continued to talk. "You know, I was beginning to worry it was going to be another Trieste when it didn’t seem so simple to find. Have I ever told you the story of the Trieste’s maiden voyage?"
"No." the redhead replied, happy he was going to give her something to concentrate on other than her aching feet, and she’d already found him to be a master orator. "But I’d like to hear it."
"Ah!" He beamed. "Well, we’d done our shakedown runs and passed those with flying colours. Our crew had been assigned, and we were about to ship out of ol’ Antares, when some bright spark high up in Command who I think must have got his rank out of kindness - this proved he had no idea of the way things should be done! - decided that we needed a computer upgrade! Here we are, newest ship in the Fleet, and still orbiting our yards, and we’re told we need a new computer system!" He laughed derisively. "Well if I didn’t complain about it!"
"I know I would have!" wynDavies grumbled.
"But it didn’t do any good." Rell sighed, a sound full of remembered frustration augmented into melodrama. "I was just an Ensign at the time, much like yourself, and who listens to the little people?" he rolled his eyes. "Well, I do, but that’s another story. Anyway, we were stuck there for another three months, and the crew were definitely suffering from cabin fever by the time we were declared fit to go…"
"’Cabin fever’?" wynDavies asked, curious in spite of her feet.
"Being stuck in one place with no chance of escape does weird things to your mind, girl." he told her ominously. "Hope you never get it. But where was I? Oh, yes - we do a final diagnostic on everything, and it all seems to be fine, peachy, wonderful.
"So the Captain - wonderful man; loved him like a father - orders us underway. So we go, and immediately;" He cocked his head and reconsidered the exaggeration. Wrinkling his nose, he qualified the statement with, "Well, maybe ten minutes later; something hits the ship!" His tone and face reflected outraged surprise. "So we come to a full stop, check the sensors, and nothing’s there. And what’s more, sensors report no impact!
"’Hmmmmmmm…’ we all thought." His face screwed up in the confusion he was describing. "’Maybe something’s up with our minds, because we all felt the impact!’ So the doc runs tests on us all. Nothing wrong with us. Then the doc sits on one of the biobeds." He chuckled. "Got the biggest shock of his life, he did - it said he was dead! That’s when we first got an inkling of what was happening, but diagnostics on the sensors showed nothing was wrong…"
He began to round a corner, but as his words stopped, he stopped and pulled the Ensign back as well.
"Wha…?" the Ensign began to ask, feeling her leg muscles spasm, but Rell, his face like an ion storm front, waved her silent.
Then she became aware of what had alerted him and changed his mood.
"…But she’s a Klingon, isn’t she?" The female voice definitely didn’t approve.
"Yeah?" came the bored sounding reply. "So?"
"Well, there’s only one other Klingon serving full time in Starfleet, and we both know what position he’s got!"
"He’s the Security Chief on the Enterprise, I’ve heard. What’s your point?"
"My point?" The tone became incredulous. "You know how aggressive they are! How can Starfleet expect one to be Counsellor to a group of humans?"
"Well, my daughter thinks she’s great, and besides, over half of this ship is crewed by non-Terrans, anyway."
"Yeah? Well, what about that?" the other spat. "How many of them had their grandparents killed by the Klingons - and how many of them were in cahoots with them?"
"Huh?" wynDavies spat, trembling with rage. "And since when is the UFP just Earth?"
A blue hand caught her arm.
"Shhh." the Chief whispered tightly. "Just let herself dig herself in a little more."
"…I just can’t believe you’re going to accept it! She’s not right for us! What kind of imbecile is this Randall character, taking on this freak to look after us like this? Some morale officer! What’s she gonna do when things get rough? Tell us it’s a good day to die and to stop whining? Kill us herself to preserve our honour?" Her laughter was bitter. "What in hell was Randall thinking?"
Silence, thick and heavy, descended. Eventually it was broken by the woman’s puzzled,
"What are you looking at?"
"Nothing." came the male’s patient but warning reply. "I was actually wondering which rock you crawled out from under. Why the hell did you join Starfleet if you can’t deal with a bit of change?"
"A bit of change!?" she sputtered back. "You’re kidding, aren’t you?"
"No, and I wish you were! Now either leave, or shut up. I don’t want to hear anymore, and if you open your mouth about this stuff again, I’m going straight to Rell. Clear?"
A startled gasp, a sputtering sound, then silence again - well, save for the steam whistling from wynDavies’ ears, she was sure. However, she waited with the stiffened form of Rell until he decided it was the right time to strike out around that corner.
Miraculously the smile broke its way across the Bolian’s face, and just as though he’d never stopped, the rest of the story was falling from his lips as he walked out to where he could be seen.
"…So we traced it all back and realised that the computer had put a bug into our systems, and…" As though he had just noticed the two crewmen, the beam grew broader and he made his way over to them, not seeming to notice how the female immediately froze, then hurried on with her work.
"Paul; Samantha!" He slapped a hand upon a shoulder of each, leaning over to inspect their work. "How goes it here?"
Paul gave the Chief a detailed description of everything he’d done, whilst Samantha stammered something unintelligible.
wynDavies was amazed at the restraint Rell showed. If it had been her in command, they’d not be able to distinguish Samantha’s body from the deckplate.
"Well, it looks to me as though you’re doing a good job here." Rell smiled.
Even wynDavies was almost fooled into believing his next words had been pre-prepared until she realised what he was saying next…
"I’m glad I’ve caught you now - it’ll save you interrupting your work later, when I call the division meeting. Over the next weeks the Counsellor is going to be calling us all in for our general evaluations, and to see how we’re settling in, that sort of thing. I’d very much appreciate it if you’d give her your complete cooperation, and let her know any problems you may be having, ok?"
He didn’t precisely look at her, but Samantha’s face reddened and she put more energy into her work..
They walked away, leaving the pair of workers behind, and the moment they were out of earshot of the two, she asked,
"Why didn’t you put her on report? You heard it - I witnessed it. That wasn’t just insubordination, that was racial hatred!"
"It was better - and I admit, more satisfying, that way." he intoned. "She got a huge fright when she realised that if he hadn’t stopped her, I would’ve waltzed right into the middle of her ravings. And the thought that now she’s going to have to face the Counsellor is going to add to that, if it doesn’t drive her from the Fleet." This last was added thoughtfully, with a sigh. It saddened him to lose anyone from his ranks, especially so soon in the mission.
"But aren’t you afraid what she’ll do or say to the Counsellor? Don’t you think…?"
The look he gave her was one of quizzical disbelief, and it halted her words in their tracks.
"I’m pretty sure K’Teira can handle herself." he replied, amused at the thought. "But I’ll have to let her know to expect an influx of engineers over the next weeks, otherwise she could be in for a large shock. I wouldn’t want to shock her, now, would I?
"Oh well… We’d better get back to Engineering before you drop, my girl - and don’t think I hadn’t noticed. But in the meantime, I’ll finish my story as recompense for nearly walking the feet off your legs. Anyway, all of our sensors were down and the bug was spreading. It didn’t look good, I can tell you…!"
"Doctor Willbanks to Lieutenant Barlok - please report to sickbay…"
Jondalar had responded immediately to the summons, and actually was glad of the respite from the boring drills on the bridge. Preparations for leaving were essential considering how close they were to exiting dock, but there really wasn’t all that much he could do at the Conn. until they were actually moving.
Sickbay was in a state when he reached it. Like the rest of the ship, it was still undergoing final checks and inspections, and as the lanky Mantanan walked through the entryway into the complex and down towards the CMO’s glass fronted office, he could see the teal uniformed individuals scurrying around like so many insects before a storm.
Ready for the CMO this Sickbay may be, but it never hurt to make sure everything was as prepared as possible.
Three new people were in the office as Jondalar presented himself. Two of them were poring over a PADD one was holding - this one standing before the desk and so partially obscuring the Mantanan’s view of the other.
The third was seated off to the side of the desk, patiently waiting for the meeting in front of her to end before resuming a previous conversation. For now, this young woman with the long, loosely braided blonde hair was watching the medical technician delivering his report to his superior, and as yet none had acknowledged Jondalar standing at the door.
The first woman, seated behind the desk as was her due as ranking physician, smiled as the report concluded and the big medtech came to attention, allowing Jondalar to see her properly. She was about the same age as the other woman; pretty, but in the way that Terran children are pretty, with dimpled cheeks, freckles and shining blue eyes. Cute, but not very interesting.
"Thanks, Tomlinson." this woman drawled, handing back the PADD. "I’ll get back to you about those tests on the null g ward, but for now I want you to keep on checking those bio monitors in critical care, OK?" Not waiting for an answer, she reached over and tapped the PADD. "And, good work!"
"Thank-you, sir." Respectfully he inclined his head, turned and headed out of the room, knowing from prior experience that he’d been dismissed the moment her attention had refocused on the olive skinned officer in the doorway. As Tomlinson excused his way past the slender Lieutenant, the one behind the desk got to her feet, inviting him in with a preemptory wave of a hand.
"Lieutenant Barlok?" she asked as he approached.
"Yes, Doctor?" he replied evenly. "You wanted me to come down here for some reason?"
"That’s right." came the amiable reply even as she extended a hand out over the desk for Jondalar to shake. "I’m Doctor Lisa Willbanks, for the record - I’m not really interested in formalities yet, or not at least until my boss gets here, so call me Lisa.
"Anyway," As Jondalar released her hand, she sat back down at the desk, suddenly all business even though the underlying friendliness was still apparent. "The reason why I’ve called you here isn’t a serious one, so get any thoughts of a previously unmentioned terminal illness out of your head right now! However, though your medical records are quite thorough, I haven’t seen one of your people before, so I was wondering if I could run a few tests on you." She grinned, but it seemed almost nasty in its intent. "You’d have to admit that it’d be better for me to fill in the gaps in my knowledge now, while you’re healthy, than for me to be doing it while you’re lying injured somewhere."
"Two things." he replied thoughtfully. "First of all, I need to be certain what kinds of test you’re speaking of. You know that there are some things I can’t allow…"
"Oh," she exclaimed dismissively. "Just some scans of your bio-chemistry, samples taken of your DNA, a basic profile made of your structure - nothing more than that. I’d just feel better knowing I’ve seen a healthy Mantanan in the flesh as well as having it all on file. It’s not very often I come across someone as completely different to every other species in the Federation as you are!"
"That brings me to the second point." he sighed. "I’m not entirely healthy at the moment - I’m being Called, you see."
"’Called’?" Lisa frowned, knowing she’d heard that term before, but couldn’t quite place it.
"I have to go back to Mantana soon." he said, shifting a little uncomfortably on the chair. "It’s a biological urge the Sarloks have to go through. It keeps us bound to the planet."
"One of many things, isn’t it?" she chuckled. "Well, it’ll be interesting to take the readings so I can tell when next you’re being Called, OK?"
He smiled gently, mischief welling in his luminous green eyes.
"I’ll know before you will I think, Lisa, but I can see the point. I’ll be glad to help."
"You know," This new voice was low, feminine, and with a touch of syllibancy which marked it as being of European descent. Both turned to the blonde woman, who’d watched curiously throughout the previous exchange. "You really should have paid more attention during the lectures on tact. If the Lieutenant here wasn’t a Sarlok, you could have had your face rearranged for your choice of words."
Willbanks’ mouth tightened slightly as she said,
"Which is our chief botanist’s subtle way of reminding me I haven’t introduced her yet. Carmen Quellon, Jondalar…" They bowed heads at each other as Lisa continued, "I asked her here today for her opinion on your bio-chemistry and structure." Angrily she glared at the sardonically waiting one. "Not to comment on my shortcomings!"
Putting out a hand to Jondalar, Quellon gave him a quick wink before replying.
"Perhaps if you weren’t quite so forthright and thought about what you were saying, it might help."
"What would you have had me say?" Willbanks was trying to keep her tone light, but the anger was obviously taking hold. Jondalar felt as though he’d just stalled in the middle of a war zone and the warp drive was now inoperable.
"…I wouldn’t have said it at all."
"Oh I’m sure you’d have been able to…"
"Can we start these tests?" he interrupted curtly. He didn’t snap - he was incapable of exasperation - but as he was equal to or higher in rank than these two protagonists, he felt justified in exerting a little authority to get these proceedings underway. "I have to go on duty again in thirteen hours, you know!"
The women paused for a surprised beat, neither expecting this source of wit. Then, both broke out laughing.
Jondalar waited until it had passed.
"We were being stupid, weren’t we?" Willbanks asked, getting to her feet and gesturing for Quellon to do the same.
"Yes." Jondalar felt no compunction against telling the truth in this case, though the doctor did regard him rather sternly after his announcement.
"Oh… well…" she said stiffly, stepping around the desk and beckoning them to follow. "Come with me."
K’Teira sighed. Sooner or later she knew it was going to happen, and she supposed she was glad it was sooner as opposed to later. At least this way she could start taking steps towards heading it off at the pass…
"Chianeé; I don’t think the Captain wants an orgy - just a simple gathering to welcome her aboard. I really don’t think all the streamers are necessary."
The blue furred Prarrian’s mane bristled.
"But K’Teirrrrrrrrra," the felinoid purred in that low sensual tone she had, "You told me that Starfleet goes for the sorrrts of parrrties they do on Earrrrrrth. This is how I always decorrated in the Thorrrrrn when it was parrrrrrrrty time…"
Another sigh, and K’Teira swept her eyes over the multi-coloured streamers that chased each other all over the ceiling, down the walls - and even across the floor in some spots. The mirrored pieces of glass dotting the few bare spots sent shafts of light arrowing across the room. Cushions scattered across the floor; multiple statues stood on pedestals, reclined on the floor and in some cases stuck out halfway up the walls - and a pond had somehow been lowered into the floor and had beverage bottles floating about in what appeared to be raktajino.
While the Klingon had to agree the overall effect was attractive, she knew for certain it wasn’t appropriate for a Starfleet Captain’s reception.
"I remember those parties." K’Teira almost let herself smile. "I remember them very well indeed. Great times - but can you see a Starfleet Admiral doing the things your guests used to get up to in them? Climbing the walls? Swimming in - and drinking - the klava? Humping the…?"
"Make yourrrrr point!" the Prarrian snapped, retracting all her fingers. K’Teira knew it was time to tread carefully with the nervous Prarrian’s ego.
"Chianeé, you know how to throw the kind of reception that’s expected here." she soothed, sitting against the bar with one foot dangling. "You don’t need to go overboard like this. The Captain will be impressed with what you do. I know your natural style. You know it too. Don’t let rank and assumed power blind you to your capabilities. They’re just people."
"Hmph." Chianeé snorted. "Yourrr position herrre is a given - you werrre assigned!"
K’Teira laughed at that, but didn’t comment further.
Chianeé’s glower darkened.
"Oh, and if yourrrs isn’t safe, then what is mine?" she huffed.
K’Teira put her foot back on the floor and made the Prarr conciliation sign - hands spread and palms up.
"Your job is safe!" she crooned. "And so is mine. Just do what you do best - embellished simplicity, o…?"
Her communicator chirruped, and with a slight rolling of her eyes to signify apology, she tabbed it back.
"K’Teira."
"Counsellor - Raisstha here. There’s another group due for transport. Just going through prelims now."
"Understood - I’m on my way!" She tabbed the communicator again to close the connection, and looked at Chianeé. "Duty calls." she apologized, stepping once towards the door. "Don’t panic about it - you’ll do a great job; all right?"
"Hmph." Chianeé retorted, but with less heat. "You arrrren’t the one who has to crrrawl up to the ceiling to rrremove the bunting!"
"And neither are…!"
The communicator chirruped again. Again K’Teira tabbed it.
"Rell to Counsellor K’Teira - can I see you when you have a moment?"
"Certainly, but there’s another group beaming aboard; can it wait until after they’ve arrived?"
"Sure. I’ll see you then. Rell out."
Pointedly K’Teira looked at her old friend.
"Did you want my job, Chianeé?" she asked.
The Prarrian shook her head, tawny mane rustling around her face.
"Nnnnope. Any job that means I have no time for a costume change is one I don’t want. You can have it. Now get out of my barrr - I have some rrredecorrrating to do!"
"I’m already gone." the Counsellor replied, stalking out the door.
