Rosencrantz and Guildenstern: Scuttlebutt

Posted on Sat Jul 28th, 2018 @ 7:39pm by Captain Charybdis MacGregor & Commander Fiona McCray
Edited on on Sat Jul 28th, 2018 @ 7:40pm

0 words; about a 1 minute read

Mission: Future Tense
Location: Corridors of the Victory
Timeline: 2285
Tags: Rumors, Scuttlebutt, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern

Ablesmen Rosencrantz and Guildenstern followed in the footsteps of their respective fathers.
Those two worthy gentlemen were among the unsung heroes of Star Fleet...Maintenance and Cleaning.

Engineering kept ship running, security kept them safe but Maintenance kept them looking good.

Ira Guildenstern was a tall almost cadaverously thin man with with a rapidly receding hairline. He'd been on the Victory since she she'd had a deck to scrub. His short stocky counterpart Rupert Rosencrantz had come on board with the most recent round of recruits. The two men had hit it off almost immediately, discovering that they had much in common. Fathers who had served together on board the same ship about 20 years ago, instant loathing for Captain Herod and a healthy disdain for officers in general.

"Too good to get their lily whites dirty emptyin' a bin or dustin a corner, my dear," Ira grumbled as he plugged in the polisher "Not a lick of common sense amongst them. Glory hounds one and all."

Rupert nodded his agreement, "True, true... we're not even at full compliment or out of the docks... these floors have scarce been walked on and yet here we are... waxin and polishing them. All because Himself likes to look up the skirts of them whuts still wearin skirts!"

"Back in me Pop's day all the women recruits wore these wee little dresses. Came almost up to their arses... like cocktail bunnies, they were. Fleet's gone plumb prim and proper these days," Ira said wistfully and both men paused for a moment of reverent silence for the much lamented old uniforms.

They worked in companionable silence for a while then gradually began delving into that time honored tradition shipboard gossip, a pastime that made the tedious duties pass a bit faster.

"So what do you think our first assignment will be?" Rupert mused as he guided the polisher across the already sparkling floor.

Ira gave a snort, "I hear tell that the ship is actually going to be turned over to the Andorians for their own use. Herod managed to piss right in the Andorian Ambassador's wheaties. Right big scandal it was! Barely kept it out of the tabloids."

His companion shook his head, "Naaaah, too much ship for that.Star Fleet's not that generous. She's brand new, got test technology all over her." He grunted slightly as he reversed the polisher's direction. "Besides... they'd boot Herod off first. Wouldn't want him causing an interstellar war with the blues..."


Ira nodded sagely at Rupert's observation. "Could be right there. Speakin of testing... I hear we're gonna be given the shields a workout."

Rupert sprayed out a light layer of wax and buffed it to a high sheen. "Oh?" he encouraged his fellow worker with a nod.

Ira warmed to the topic, "Aye, supposed to be taking her into a tight orbit 'round the Sun and staying there to see how long it takes for the shields to buckle and give way," He had no real knowledge of how the shields worked but it sounded reasonable to him.

Rupert gave a snort " Well, so much for those grandchildren my old man's been bugging me bout," his tall thin companion paused. "I thought you had to have a woman for grand kids?" That earned Ira a light thump on the arm. "Details man... details..." The two of them paused to let a couple of crew members pass.

They both eyed the trim backsides of the security chief and her companion with deep appreciation.

"Say what you will about alien races, the trill have to be among the prettiest," Ira said after he'd judged she was out of earshot.

Rupert nodded enthusiastically, "Indeed! I've always wondered if the spots go all the way down." Both men pondered that age-old question for a moment then Rupert gave a shudder. "What's wrong? Goose walk over your grave?" Ira asked.

"No,no... it's just that... the other day I saw one of those Sulamids transport in. Now there's an alien race I just don't want to see more of," the stocky janitor gave another shudder. "They creep me out, all tentacles and eyeballs. You can't even tell what section they belong to because they don't wear proper uniforms. Wonder if it's stayin on board," he frowned down at a scuff mark as Ira took up the conversation.

"I hear it's the new XO," Rupert looked up in surprise. "No!"

Ira nodded " God's own truth!" The younger janitor shuddered, "Doesn't sound like a very Herod appointment... he hates aliens I hear tell."

The taller companion gave a sage nod, "True, but he hates women officers more and I hear tell he's got a secret stash of Hentai..." When Rupert looked puzzled at the reference Ira quite happily filled him in on what exactly constituted Hentai.

"Good lord! That's disgusting... but I wouldn't put it past him. The man is a proper pig."

The tall thin janitor picked up an imaginary ball of lint from the floor. "Yeah, I hear that as soon as we're under way good some of the upper echelon are going to arrange for a little airlock accident for him. Bar of soap... quick push... cycle the lock... bye bye tyrant!"


"Couldn't happen to a nicer guy," Rupert said with a nod of satisfaction. "I hear the only reason he's still a Captain is that he has the goods on a bunch of the Admiralty. Evidently there was a wild party and someone brought farm animals and Romulan Ale!" That got a snicker from Ira

"Sounds likely," he nodded, "It would explain why he seems bulletproof despite being a right royal smeg head." Rupert yanked on his sleeve and hissed, "Ssst! Keep your voice down! Captain Smeghead just came out of the lift and I hear he's bringing back Keelhauling!"

Ira looked startled " What?... in space?" he carefully moved the wet deck sign out of the way and asked, "With or without an envirosuit?"

"Depends on the infraction," Rupert grunted in response the motion of the buffer giving his words an odd vibrato. Ira snorted, "Not even Himself is THAT bad..."

Rupert shook his head. "Oh..I dunno I hear he ate an ensign the other day... had cook braise the youngster up in butter and garlic, served him on toast with white wine."

"Non-sense... everyone knows that ensigns are served with Rose!"

The two men worked in silence for a while waiting until the Captain was well out of earshot.

"He looked pissed"

"He always looks pissed"

"I hear he's planning on demoting everyone one rank... two if you've questioned him lately"

"Can he do that?" Rupert asked with concern, because he'd actually had a minor run in earlier in the week that'd gotten him several hours of disciplinary action.

Ira shrugged, "It's Herod... he does shit like that all the time. Most hated Captain in the Federation, I hear tell."

"True that, to my mind," Rupert said with a nod, "I hear he can't get an XO for love or money." Ira shook his head, "Don't want one... he plans on running the bridge himself... all shifts. Nothing but Herod 24 hours a day."

Rupert gave a shudder, "Christ...I'd cut my wrists or beg for a transfer... anything would do... even a Klingon garbage scow!"


A pair of Vulcans in civilian clothing passed the two men, their expressions dour.

"Who're they?" Rupert wanted to know. "Efficiency experts. Herod brought them on to evaluate the crew. Next thing you know we're going to have to be justifying our positions or we'll be phased out," Ira informed his companion. For a moment Rosencrantz looked worried then he shook his head. "Naaaah... you and me... and the rest of maintenance... we're safe."

"How do you figure that?" Guildenstern asked, and Rosencrantz replied, "No one wants our jobs!"

"True... so very true m'lad!" Ira chuckled.


"Maybe Herod's gettin his Admiral pips?" Rupert mused. "There's been an awful lot of brass and suits through here the past few days... somethings up."

Ira nodded his agreement "Indeed... " he gave a snort of laughter, "Maybe old smeggy is going to have the Victory declared a sovereign nation... that way we'll all have to kiss his ring!"

Rupert chuckled at the thought and replied, "Beats havin' to kiss his arse by a mile."

They watched as the Vulcans met up with a tall somewhat craggy man in a black suit. "Ya reckon we might be gettin' a whole new command staff?" Ira asked.

"Could be... there are too many positions empty to put out to space. Stranger things have happened and Herod does... well... he's crazy. Man shouldn't be captain of a barge let alone a big ship like this," Rosencrantz put some elbow grease into his polishing. "Wonder where we're going to end up?"

"Arachnid Nebula!" Ira responded with a grin and when Rupert gave him a quizzical look he nodded sagely. "Yeah... that way noone can hear Herod scream..."

That earned him a laugh from the younger man, then he got serious for a moment " Do you reckon someone could have Him declared insane? I mean really... he's pulled some crazy shit lately... did you hear him go off about the strawberries the other day? " he paused and leaned on the polisher. "I thought Cookie was going to up and quit right on the spot. Ya know I think we are missing a few people... the ensigns come on board... have a brush with evil then are never heard from again!"

Ira nodded, "See, I told you... he eats them!"

That got a laugh. "He might at that. I know what's gonna happen... the Victory is going to be made into a disciplinary ship... and Herod's gonna be the warden."

Ira shook his head " No... if they did that they'd have to change the ship's name to Hell... and changing a name is bad luck for a ship," Rupert gave a half hearted laugh of agreement. "Puh-leeze, she's already got her share of bad luck and then some. She's got Herod for a captain!"

Ira wound the cord of the buffer up. "I hear he won't use the transporters because he's afraid that engineering will lose his pattern in the buffer."

"Don't tease me with such lovely thoughts, old bean" Rupert followed his buddy down the well-polished hall. "That'd be like having an extra Christmas!"

The mighty vessel was clean for the night, and the two men strode off together. Tomorrow they'd do it all again.

 

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