Personal Quarters

Posted on Sun Nov 6th, 2016 @ 7:18am by Captain Charybdis MacGregor & Commander Fiona McCray
Edited on on Sun Nov 6th, 2016 @ 7:19am

0 words; about a 1 minute read

Mission: Taking Chances
Location: USS Bonne Chance, Deck Five, Lt. McCray's quarters
Timeline: 2265

By the time that Char and Fi's impromptu walkabout got to the engineer's quarters, the small woman was moving slowly. She keyed her entry code with obvious relief and the doors swished open to reveal a set of standard quarters that had been redone in deep rich wood tones, jewel colors and soft textures. It still had the functionality of fleet digs but it betrayed a taste for luxury. The harsh edges were muted by velvety piles of pillows and rugs so soft that they practically invited you to kick off your shoes.

There were a few unopened cases secured to the floor but walls and shelves already had inhabitants. Books were the bulk of the treasure trove but there were more personal touches too in addition to the decor choices there were some holos. A pair of fencing rapiers hung on the wall beneath a crest that bore the legend "Fortitude" in both English, the root language for Federation Standard and Latin, which in turn provided much of the root language for English.

The desk was littered with schematics and a number of what appeared to be postcards and housed several decanters, while the closet stood partially open, revealing a number of duty uniforms and some obviously civilian garments.

Fiona sank gratefully down onto the couch/bed and said " Make yerself a'home"

The first officer was stunned. She thought she had decorated her quarters when she had come aboard, and she'd had some ideas for renovation, but she had never dreamed this level of customization was allowed... realistically she wouldn't even know where to begin to start this level of project, how to get the supplies nor implement it in so short a time.

She began scanning the shelves of books, her fingertips tracing the spines gingerly. "Dumas... Hawking... George Carlin... Aasimov... Shelby. You certainly have varied tastes in literature Fiona. How do you keep all of these antiques on the wall when the artificial gravity lurches?" The question could be taken as scornful, but if there was one thing Char had a respect for it was the written word, and while she owned no books herself, she certainly respected those willing to care for and maintain a library.

Fi chuckled and replied, "Mag locks. Tha bindings hae metal threaded through them them an I joost attach a magnetic strip tae tha wall. tis dead easy. Not always foolproof boot it works well eno."

The scientist grinned back at her. "That's actually quite brilliant in its simplicity, I think."

The redhead shrugged as she leaned back against a pile of pillows and drew her feet up beneath her. "Simple is generally the best way to go with most things. Tis cheap and quite portable and it won't cut out if tha power is cut or the grav goes oot."

The fencing rapiers were of interest to her, though she did not touch them. She knew just enough about humans and their bladed weapons to know that touching or wielding one uninvited was considered a faux pax, and that they were not to be drawn without shedding blood on them or some sort of nonsense. Instead she admired them on the wall, and noticed the family name on the crest.

"This is the symbol of your..." Her mind raced... Cult? Klan? Sorority? "House?"

"Family crest. Scottish Clans hae badges... that is tha one for Clan MacCray" She nodded towards the holos, "Thet's home. Tha two gents are Da and Angus... still getting my pictures an sooch sorted oot."

"They are quite handsome and rugged... and your home is very beautiful. I love green lush planets... while Earth does have deserts and dry formations, there is so much variety to the terrain and so much to see. Is this where Patrick comes from as well? It looks very much the sa- uh, similar." She remembered at the last minute that Humans tended to be territorial about their homelands and took great pride in them, and often regions had rivalries with others, so she did not wish to misstep and say the wrong thing.

Fiona laughed heartily " Ah... close boot world apart. We're all part oov tha British isles boot tha people are a mite different tho tha Irish and Scottish are somewhat closer than the English and Welsh... we tend to be a mite more testy. The one thing we all agree on... Welshman, Irishman or Scot is that we heartily dislike the english."

"Scots an' Irish kin set aside their differences long eno to fight a common enemy."

"So these blades... this is one of your fighting styles? These are practice blades, so obviously these are not ornamental?" She very much wanted to take one down, test the heft and the weight, but if they were Fiona's they likely wouldn't be balanced for someone her size anyway. Best to ask and discover, Charybdis reasoned.

"Aye...they are." Fiona's smile grew to a grin " They've been in my family a long while...I won the right to hae them w' me aboot 5 years ago an' hae kept them away from tha lads ever since"she gave a little shrug that trivialized the pride in her expression " Dougal still has Tha Claymores (the words carried the weight of a title) boot Great Great Great Granny Moira's rapiers are goin ta stay with me. Go an and take them duin...look em over...they're tha real deal no' joost pretties for tha heath" she invited. The weapons were beautifully maintained but they showed wear and use " Legend has it thet Gran was a bit oov a hellion back in tha day."

Fiona gave Char a nod of encouragement. "No... go ahead... they're meant tae be tooched. I hae them magged ta tha wall like that books... poosh een that cuts the pull for a bit and releases em."

Char did as instructed and pulled one of the lightweight weapons free, then whipped it easily through the air. It was obviously made for speed and a dextrous hand... a weapon of finesse and delicacy and skill. In short, one she was ill suited to wield.

"Interesting... perhaps sometime you might teach me a few moves? It is definitely not in my arena, but it might be interesting to learn, and I would happy to give you an opponent at least." She hung it back on the wall where it belonged carefully.

"ah sure... would be glad to. You have guid reach thets one oov th' keys to being a great fencer," Fiona said with a smile.

It had not dawned on her that she was snooping and that it was impolite to go rummaging through the possessions of another... but to her mind she had been invited, and she was genuinely fascinated. It was like finding a secret doorway in a wardrobe that led to a faraway land filled with wonders, and she was similarly enchanted.

There were so many clues as to who lived here in Fiona's quarters, and the place seemed so vibrant... it made her own quarters seem sterile by comparison, and Patrick's positively spartan. She realized suddenly that he lived like a Vulcan- no real material possessions and no distractions. She had been so busy being otherwise occupied in his quarters she had not realized it until now. Charybdis decided in that moment, as she was wont, that someday she would have such a home- a warm and inviting place that reflected those who lived there, not quarters with a few nick knacks that could be stored and moved at a moment's notice.

It was obvious that the engineer liked nesting wherever she went. She took as much home and history with her as she could pack and carry. Some things were obviously old, while others were bits of shiny she'd collected like a magpie. Char liked the idea for some reason, not realizing that a home and a happy history were two things that she lacked, yet subconsciously craved as she looked around the quarters of her friend.

Her gaze wandered to the desk, where among the various half assembled (or half disassembled, depending on what you picked up) devices on the desk were schematics... and here she most certainly was not lost.

"Fiona, this design for a liquid crystal interface display is brilliant! I've often wondered why our screens are so small yet our control panels are so limited... this would revolutionize the bridge, heck, it could revolutionize Starfleet!"

"Och..tis a work in progress... I like tae tinker in me off time" Fiona said with offhanded modesty.

"This is still amazing work Fiona. have you submitted any of these to the Starfleet Journal of Engineering and Science? I daresay you could gain significant acclaim for the designs alone here, regardless of their practical applications..."

Fiona shook her head "Nah... not yet," she shrugged. "Maybe when I test them oot," she nodded towards the decanters. "Help yerself ta a drink an there's shortbread in the canister there... mum sends me a care package every month," she said with a fond smile. "She is on a mission tae keep all ov us fed."

The cheerful commander roamed across the decanter set, uncorking and sniffing various fluids until the found one that seemed intriguing, then she poured one finger each of the amber liquid into two tumblers. Then she fetched the shortbread from the canister, arranged some on a plate and put them all on a tray to carry to the couch to serve.

"Ah Irish Mist... a good mix wi mum's shortbread," Fi approved Char's choice the amber liquid smelled of honey and cinnamon an the cookies were redolent with vanilla and butter.

It was not lost on Fiona that in addition to the list of her other unusual proclivities, the woman was apparently a natural hostess as well. She wondered if it was her Vulcan upbringing or her natural inborn tendency.

"I wouldn't want to drink alone, after all," Char said with a smile and raised her glass in a toast. "Cheers!"

"Oov course not! twould be ruttin' rude!" The chief chuckled and lifted her glass in return then broke off a bit of cookie and tossed it in her mouth before taking a sip. She closed her eyes and made a happy noise. "Laird mum can bake... joost wait til Christmas. She goes mad" she chuckled and opened her eyes, "I'm tha last chickie oot of tha nest an' tha only girl so I'm a mite spoiled," Fi confessed with a grin. "Pardon tha mess... I'm still no done unpackin' I should hae folks over for dinner some time. Got a fresh package fruim home at the space station when I was transferring to tha' Bonnie."

"I would love that! Do you... do you think you might..." Char hesitated, then took a bite of a cookie and a gulp of the drink in imitation of Fi's order, then continued. "Do you think you could teach me to cook? I have always wanted to learn!" The look in her eye was earnest, and it was clear that it would mean the world to her.

"Sure... ets dead easy! You shud be a natural... it's like chemistry!" The engineer reached out and pulled one of the packing crates over with her good arm - she tapped it twice first which the deactivated the maglock. "Might as well be useful while I'm here," she said as she flipped open the top of the case and began pulling out bits and bobs, the collected traveling tidbits of the woman's life journey.

Char watched in fascination, an almost childlike delight, wondering what would come out of the case next. the room, the memories, all of the stories surrounding it... there was something here that she craved very badly. She did not understand it, and most likely it would be quite a while until she did. But home and hearth, creature comforts, and the love and support of a family created a pull on her not unlike the magnetic locks Fiona used to secure her precious possessions.

 

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