Downtime

Posted on Mon Nov 23rd, 2015 @ 8:42am by Captain Charybdis MacGregor
Edited on on Sat Apr 28th, 2018 @ 2:25am

0 words; about a 1 minute read

Mission: Taking Chances
Location: USS Bonne Chance, various decks
Timeline: 2265
Tags: Bonne Chance

Sleep had been fitful... dreams had come and gone, not that she remembered them. Any sensitives in the area would have slept remarkably poorly, as she had been radiating sorrow and pure terror all morning, reliving her past in endless playback as she tended to do when she was less than healthy. It was fortunate that she was unable to broadcast her emotions, or much of the crew would have been in Sickbay this afternoon.

When she had awakened, she was impressed that over seven hours had passed... Charybdis seldom slept that long. Working on the sensors must have taken more out of her than she had imagined, but it was of no consequence. She would lay low in her quarters today, since she was relieved of duty. She stretched like a rather large feline in her royal throne of a bed... she still could not get over how huge and soft and comfortable it was, and it made her giggle every time. She eased out of bed... ooh, stiff and sore this morning... and padded to her desk. Her own desk... she was still amazed by that as well, though dropping her naked rump into the seat proved to be a bit of a mistake as her bare flesh stuck to the pleather and plastic of the chair like it had been crafted to do just that.

The duty roster came onscreen for her, and... there it was. No duty for her today, at least. She would be sure to check it regularly, though... Suval had not said specifically how long he was removing her from duty, which most likely meant that he planned this as some sort of moronic test as well, to try to trick her into dereliction of duty.

She shook her head and chuckled. What an idiot. All he was 'teaching' her was that he would do well in an academic setting, but he most definitely did not belong in command of anyone, least of all himself. "You go to your room and think about what you've done while I fix everything" was a terrible way to handle the issue of an overzealous underling. And that strategy barely worked if you planned to take credit for the work if it was any good.

The Engineering transfer was getting serious consideration in her mind... assuming she hadn't somehow poisoned that well already. Between her psych profile, her interactions aboard the Bonne Chance already and her encounters with Suval thus far, she had a hard time believing that he would genuinely be so blind as to believe that she had suddenly seen the logic inherent in licking his boots and becoming his faithful toady. In addition she was doubting her own ability to follow through on the scheme... doing it in one class for one semester was much easier than doing it for an ongoing duty assignment that would likely go on for quite some time.

Plus he would control her evaluations, and given that he had already given her a formal reprimand and openly admitted that he would discriminate against her and expect a higher standard... ugh. She knew that he would continue to set the bar higher and higher, and each time she achieved a plateau, he would simply raise the bar again and chide her for her shortcomings. She would labor and toil for his sadistic (yet coldly logical) pleasure (which of course he took no pleasure in, just ask him), never gaining any recognition, only more challenges.

It was exactly the same sort of nonsense that she had left Vulcan to avoid... the more she considered it, the more she realized she would almost rather play along and entrap him in order to bring him up on charges of discrimination. Vulcans were of course incapable of discrimination... unless they were being judged by someone in touch with their emotions, who could then clearly see their ample prejudice.

The concept, while risky, held some appeal. But that was a star system yet to be crossed, and when the situation would continue to develop was out of her hands... so in the meanwhile she had plenty of time to consider strategies and approaches for dealing with him. And she had far more important things to tend to in the here and now.

Basic warp propulsion, advanced quantum engineering, starship layouts, particle physics and deflector principles were Academy courses... Janus knew she'd taken them all in her time at Starfleet Academy. The advantage of being set back so often was that she'd had ample time to take electives, regardless of whether she passed them or not. Now it was time to put those classes to practical use, and she begin studying the schematics, specifications and systems of the ship of which she was now a part... well, hopefully. Since the long range sensors were now covered, she decided to start in Engineering and work her way out from there.

Charybdis began by studying the technical specifications and blueprints of the vertical linear intermix chamber, committing the diagrams to memory. She memorized the sequence and order of the series of magnetic bottles that housed the matter and antimatter that fed the intermix chamber, and looked over the circuit boards and consoles diagrams of the systems that fed power from the intermix chamber to the impulse engines as well as the rest of the ship. The energizer seemed critical to this process, so she worked on committing the cross-wiring possibilities available to memory, in order to bypass less critical systems while directing power where it was needed in emergencies. That was going to take quite a while, she realized quickly. There were thousands of possible combinations... and she took a perverse pleasure in choosing not to calculate just how many. Suck it, Vulcan.

Dilithium crystals were next on her study guide, and she refreshed her memory on both their importance to starship power and their physical reactions that caused power generation. Then came the emergency procedures associated with the dilithium reactor itself. The power output from these reactors was incredible... and the design was actually quite sleek and functional. She admired the technical beauty of them before investigating the history of dilitium, and cross-referencing it with major production centers in the known galaxy.

It couldn't hurt to know these things from memory, she reasoned.

In the midst of memorizing the layout of the Bonne Chance... her overall floor plan, so that she would know where she was going even if she had not yet investigated that area of the heavy cruiser, when her stomach rumbled desperately and she realized that she hadn't eaten for... She checked the clock, then checked the stardate and realized just how long it had actually been. No wonder she had passed out in Engineering- it had been a few days now. She was enjoying her studies, but priorities were what they were. She had to eat and hydrate, she realized, and neglecting either would just leave her more vulnerable. She couldn't afford any more vulnerability right now, so better to leave the safety of her lair and seek out sustenance.

Showering again was a necessity, and she did so quickly. She had sweat in her sleep, and she was musky once again. When that was accomplished she pulled out a new pair of tights... she still did not understand this element of the uniform and no one had seemed capable of explaining it to her. Suddenly it dawned on her... without the tights, her thighs would stick to every seating surface in the ship, be it plastic or pleather. Mystery solved, she thought smugly. The Antares had been mostly synthleather seats that had been worn smooth over the years, being such an old vessel, so she had never noticed.

Once the tights had been wrestled into, a daily chore of which she was not overly fond, a fresh uniform and a pair of boots finished off the ensemble, and she shook her hair out, keeping her bangs in check with her nigh-omnipresent hairband. She would need to cut her hair again soon, she noted- something about starship life just seemed to encourage it to grow faster, it seemed. She eyed herself in the mirror, which was a luxury she'd never had onboard a ship before, and observed her hair, tapering in a cascade down her back, and as always it made her smile. It was like a physical representation of her rejection of the Vulcan culture... no bowl cut for this officer, thank you.

Something was not quite right, and she considered just what was wrong with her uniform look as she tugged down on the skirt. Turning to the side she realized what it was lacking, as she crossed her eyes and fetched a pair of the pale blue briefs from her closet.

For the life of her she could not understand why the uniform included briefs to be worn on the outside of the tights. But given her somewhat abundant posterior, she was definitely one of the individuals they had been considering when adding them. If the damned skirts were going to be this short, why not just add something eyecatching down there, or black briefs... why the same color as the uniforms, which only served to draw the eye and accentuate... she facepalmed, as she had just answered her own question.

The admiralty of Starfleet was composed exclusively Human males... and the female uniforms demonstrated that quite clearly.

Eyeing her reflection, she checked herself for blemishes or skin problems. She considered investigating cosmetics... the human women wore them to enhance their appearance and accentuate their natural features. While it looked a bit odd to her, it seemed to be quite popular, and she observed that certain styles and patterns and colors seemed to be quite popular with the males aboard the Bonne Chance. Perhaps she would check the ship's library for research in that arena as well... after all, her looks were one of her most reliable assets.

Stepping to the door of her quarters and they opened... well, she hadn't been locked in, that was a good sign. She stuck her head out into the corridor and peered to either side of the doorway. There were no neckless Security personnel guarding her door... so she was in the clear there. She sauntered to the turbolift, entered when the doors swooshed open to take hold of the command handle. "Deck Eleven," she expressed, and off she went.

Deck Eleven was her choice because she wanted an Enlisted mess, where she was less likely to encounter Suval. She was hungry and she wanted to eat, not listen to him mock her and certainly not have him scold her over her food choices and omnivorous lifestyle. She exercised plenty... which reminded her, she would be wanting to catch Commander Ak'Ahar's training class in a few hours. So in the meanwhile, something that once walked the earth needed to be seared and deposited inside her- perhaps a few such things.

She ordered a cheeseburger... she wasn't sure why, but they were just the tastiest darn things to her, and they were readily available on the menu. A baked potato and an Andorian salad topped off her first meal, with a liter of water. She looked around and found a place at one of the tables, when the cheerful conversation started to die down in the presence of an officer. She looked to the left and right, then smiled.

"Please... I'm just hiding out from the officer's mess, gang. Anything you say cannot and will not be used against you, and the famous Vulcan recording ears are officially off duty." She plugged her fingers in her ears and crossed her eyes, which got a few chuckles. "I just want to eat and relax, honestly... please, make some bad jokes, heck, tell Vulcan jokes, tell some stories and pretend I'm not here? Please?" She smiled her most winning smile at them, then proceeded to start doctoring her baked potato, making good on her promise not to be intrusive.

The enlisted occasionally had officers eating in the mess, but seldom were they there to 'hide out', and even less often did they ask to be ignored... particularly with a 'please' and a smile. The conversation was still a bit halting and awkward, so Charybdis swallowed a mouthful of food and spoke up. "Okay, here, first one's on me. Worst pickup lines ever heard on a Starbase? 'Someone must have shot you with a phaser set on 'stunning.' Wait, wait, even better- this Tellerite at my old command used to stare at my chest for a full minute every morning. His excuse? 'I can't help it - my eyes are trapped in the gravitational field of your breasts!" Within a few minutes the chatter had resumed its previous level, and by the time the Vulcan lieutenant had gotten up to fetch her second tray of food, all was back to normal.

Charybdis was focused on feeding the emptiness inside her... she genuinely had been so intellectually engaged that she had been ignoring starvation setting in, and she scolded herself internally for it. She would be of no use to anyone with low blood sugar and being prone to passing out... it was not her best career path. She did not notice the young Human Engineering JG who sat down across from her and was apparently enraptured by the sight of her wolfing down a Denver omelet. She was looking around for a napkin when he handed one to her, and she realized that he had been sitting and watching the whole time. He looked somehow familiar, but she couldn't quite place him.

"Um, hello," she started, then found herself at a loss. Flirtation came naturally to her, but she was trying to keep herself more or less in check right at this moment, and she realized she was actually not very good at small talk with men... they usually always had something to say to her. Fortunately, he had arrived with a purpose and got around to it, saving her from having to carry the conversation.

"Er, Lieutenant Shareybeedis?" he asked hesitantly, and she laughed gently.

"Actually it's pronounced "Kar-ib-dis", Lieutenant... don't worry, it isn't an easy name to pronounce from the spelling in most cultures. My parents were xenocultural historians amongst other things, and they named me after a mythological force of nature, as it were. Not the most 'Vulcan' of names... but then, I'm not the most 'Vulcan' of Vulcans." She smiled at him and he seemed to relax a bit after his gaffe over her name.

"So, um, what can I do for you, Lieutenant...?" she asked in a friendly voice.

The young lieutenant looked down at his hands, interlocked on the table before him, then sighed and looked back up at her as he began speaking. "I, uh, wanted to apologize for what happened in Engineering the other day... when you were working in the sensor bays and I was, ah, offering to help. You might not remember me, but I'm the guy that..."

Charybdis' face lit up with recognition. "Oh... the spanner..."

He shook his head and held his hands up. "Yes ma'am, that was me. I just wanna say, the guys game me a ration of bilge about it, and I'm really sorry about that. You're very pretty, but I really shouldn't have..."

She put her finger on his lips from across the tale, much to his surprise. "No... no apology. I was wearing this outfit in Engineering and hanging from the ceiling. It was very unkind of me to tease you like that, and I am sorry that I dropped a wrench on your head. Maybe we could call it even?"

The young human's eyes lit up and he smiled. "Yes ma'am, that'd be just fine by me. I deserved it, but it's pretty big of you to admit you were teasin' us pretty hard down there."

Charybdis nodded and shrugged. "I am who I am, Lieutenant... Lieutenant...?"

"Lowe, ma'am. Lieutenant Junior Grade Benjamin Lowe. The guys just call me ben."

Her hand came up and was offered in a traditional human handshake gesture, and he took it. "Nice to meet you, Ben. Charybdis... uhm, I don't have a nickname that's shorter, I'm afraid..." she said even as she ran through the numerous nicknames she had acquired through the Academy and onboard the Antares. She was sure they would invent new ones for her here soon enough, so she didn't bother to bring up any of the old ones... she wasn't that fond of any of them, after all.

He smiled and shook her hand, and she saw the look she knew all too well- puppy love. He was not aggressive enough to boldly court her, but he was smitten with her and just wanted to be near her, in the hopes that somehow she would recognize what a nice guy he was and hurl herself upon him. Inwardly she sighed... it was the worst courting strategy she had ever seen, but a surprising number of human males in Starfleet seemed to make use of it. Somehow it was always the ones with a little less hair on their heads, a bit of a skin condition, a bit overweight... physical features that made them less than standout amongst their peers. What it really meant, though, was that he was 'safe'. He would not pressure her, and he would be willing to be her friend... and she could use a friend right now, she decided on the spot.

"Ben, do you like classic Earth entertainment tapes?" He looked a bit confused, but held up his hands. "A little I guess... why?"

"How would you like to go see The Princess Bride with me? The holographic rec room isn't booked right now, and I think we can get popcorn from the food dispensers..."

Ben looked a bit befuddled, but he had the good common sense to recognize an opportunity when it was handed to him. "Uh, sure! I guess I'll get the... the what, the popcorn..?" Charybdis nodded, and disposed of her plate while he fetched popcorn from the dispenser, then she walked him down to the rec room to watch a data tape and relax for a few minutes.

Conversation buzzed behind them, and Charybdis knew that scuttlebutt would make its own interpretation of this event, but she genuinely didn't care. He was an officer, so it was not fraternization, and it certainly couldn't hurt his reputation to be seen with her. And she was certain that her own reputation, deserved or not, was already building in her wake, and she accepted that as she always had. If one were going to be overtly sensual, one had to accept the societal repercussions... and she enjoyed being sensual. She was not violating any rules or regulations in taking in a tape of an old Earth film in a common area with a shipmate.

There was a lot of work to do, and she had a huge backlog of data to study, memorize and process. But she also recognized that it would be nice to just have someone to talk to for a few minutes, about flights of fancy and romance and fairy tales and things that didn't matter in the real world, not one bit. And it didn't hurt if he thought of her as a pretty princess, maybe just a little bit. She usually did not feel like one, and maybe that could be good for her for a little while.

Sharing her popcorn with Ben Lowe and enjoying the old tape, Suval entered her mind only once. He would never recognize this need to unwind, to relax, to just share company with another person.

"Inconceivable!" she whispered, as Ben shooshed her.

 

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