USS Galaxy: The Next Generation Sim Log
Stardate: 60809.28 - 60810.04 |
Logs |
"Hot Shower"
It was bath day for Mary Poppins. True, normally she enjoyed a quick dip in the sonic tub like most other crewmen, and who could resist the occasional soak in the superheated hottubs with her roomate Allison down in the gymnasium, but for that deep down clean that really reached every nook and crany of her soul.....(for the rocky Horta's really did have a lot of nooks and cranys) it took a special kinda of clean.
Fortunately for Mary, the USS Galaxy was equiped with the very latest in scientific crany-scrubbing equipment. True the high energy plasma lab was never strictly designed for the mere purpose of cleaning a Horta, but what the Federation Scientific Community and $14 billion in taxpayer money didnt know wouldnt hurt them.
After all, maybe it had been intended for high temperature plasma bombardment of exotic test particles....but it was also just the thing for those one a month deep down steam showers that put a spring in a girls step. Not that Mary could step....spring or no....but she did seem to glide a bit more lively afterwards. Strolling along beside the soon-to-be-bathed Horta was her indescribably cute roomate Allison von Ernst. With a towel slung over her shoulder and flip-flops slapping merrily agaisnt her heels, the young human was the perfect companion for a rock's day at the spa. The doors to the Plasma Lab groaned open and the gathering of techs on duty looked up with amusement. At first there had been serious grumbling in the scientific ranks regarding the use of multibillion credit pieces of equipment as a mere 'shower', but despite objections from as high up as 'Feather's' himself, the rules were gradually relaxed and Mary was allowed to have her bath day. (That was a nice way of saying Cutter didnt know about the arrangement) Besides...as far as the pimple-nosed technicians were concerned, the little bond girl that invariably tagged along with the rock-monster was somthing of a hottie. "Ladies, step into my parlor." motioned senior technician Jones to the new arrivals. "We've got everything ready for you." "Top of the Morning to ye lad, Hows the water todays Jonesy." Mary inquired via her pre-programed electronic voice, The voice of a matronly English lady that led directly to her human nickname. "Plasma levels at a balmy 3000 Kelvin mi'lady." the tech smiled, faking his own accent. "Just the way you like it." Little blond Allison rolled her eyes at the cutesy exchange, and popped her gum. She didnt mind tagging along with her roomie, but having to put up with the geek parade while Mary showered was something of an annoyance. The genral unfairness of the universe in general, towards her in specific never ceased to amaze Allison. She was totally sure that in all the entire history of Teenagers, her life was the most totally bogus. "We could have gone down to the gym with all the buff Security studs," she mused to herself, examining an aluminum nail critically. "...but no...we gotta come up her with all the Star Trek geeks looking to make 'First Contact'.....as if." Another pop of her gum. "Lassie...a little help here?" Mary beckoned snapping Allison out of her pity-party. "Some assistance in getting out of uniform if you dont mind?" Now normally, when one young gal asks another to assist her in getting naked, you tend to sit up and take notice......unfortuantely, getting naked for Mary consisted of merely removing her small electronic voder and Comm Pin from her rocky hide. Not much excitement there, although her sometimes boyfirend Percy Preston swore by it. Much to the eagerly watching geeks disapointment, the blond remained steadfstly and stubbornly clothed. With her translator now cradled in Allison's well manicured hands, Mary was quite unable to communicate with the humans, and slowly made her way towards the open mouth of the Plasma Particla BOmbardment chamber. The Room-sized device hummed ominously, and the aforementioned 'mouth' glowed a hellish red, putting out heat that the others could barely get within 20 feet of. Leaving Mary to her 'soaking' Alli retreated behind the blast shield into the control booth, and plunked her cute pink flip-flops up on some expensive looking piece of equipment. Tech Jones opened his mouth to object, but decided instead that this offered an outstanding view of the blonds rather long legs. ~~~God Bless the Federation, and whoever invented cut-offs.~~~ he thought. Reaching for the mic, he said, "Okay Mary....get settled and we'll crank it up to 3500K...did you want the meson particle rinse cycle this time around?" On the heat resistant camera, the mute horta tapped the floor twice indicating negative. "Fine then...we'll skip that and go for a dry heat instead....X-rays okay with you?" One tap for yes.
While her roomie bathed in deadly heat and radiation that would kill a normal person in seconds, the bored Alli wiggled her glitter-polished toes and idly examined the electronic translator in her lap. Semi-telepathic in design, the device was supposed to pick up on Mary's brainwaves....or whatever Rocks used as a brain, and translate it into spoken English. Stealing a nervous glance to see if anybody was looking.....(Jones was watching her legs out of the corner of his eyes while pretending to monitor the cameras.).....Allison experimentally lifted the device to her own head to see if it would work. **DEAR ME I WONDER IF THIS WILL WORK** The device spoke in perfect King's English. ~~~Holy Crap~~~ Alli thought, ~~~It works!~~~ **BLOODY HELL** the machine spoke **THE BLOOMING THING WORKS** Everybody in the lab whirled to stare at Alliosn who jumped, and almost droped the Voder to the floor. "ZARKY!" she exclaimed. ***BULLY! GOOD SHOW OL CHAP!*** the device echoed. Noticing the stares, she quickly doffed the machine, sitting back quietly. "Uh...heh heh." she titterd, blushing nervously, "Sorry....dont tell me you totally havent thought of it yourself." A few raised eyebrows, and the geeks turned back to thier work. On the camera Mary was twisting this way and that in the cosmic radiation, making sure to completely exfoliate eny stray particles.
Still bored, Allison hummed a little tune to herself for a few minutes before an evil grin passed across her face. ***AH'M 'ENRY THE EIGTH I AM I AM....*** the machine sang obediently "Okay seriously...stop it already." Jones interrupted. "Okay sorry." Alli said aloud. However. the machine said ***TELL ME TO SMEGGING STOP? WHO THE BLOODY HELL YOU THINK YOU ARE YOU PEASANT-BRAINED SNIT!!*** thus announcing her innermost thoughts. Yelping in surprise, Allison jumped to her feet, loosing a flip-flop in the process and tossed the device off her head. ***CRIKEY!! THE MACHINE IS TALKING....I'D DO WELL TO REMOVE IT FROM ME GULLIVER BEFORE......**** it said before clattering to the desk. For long moments there was only the sounds of humming machinery in the observation booth. "Ooooo-kay." Allison gingerly retook her seat, "Excuuuuse meeeee....Totally not more playing with the little translator machine anymore....." she grumbled.
The uneasy tension of a roomful of geeks surrounding one lonely hottie was suddenly broken by the 'DING' on the little egg-timer atop the console. "Ahhh....bath's done." Jones announced. Mary was glowing red hot as she emerged, all sparkles and diamonds(literally) from her shower. Wearing blast goggles and weilding an asbestos towel, Alli assisted her in removing the last littel flakes of molten feldspar from her hide, leaving behind a crisp clean slate. ~~~Nasty little Feldspar....~~~ Alli thought as she scrubbed, ~~~The horta equivalent of blackheads~~~ Now approaching room temperature, Mary was 'redressed' in her Comm pin allowing once agian for contact with the human world. "Ahhhh...lovely lovely my dearie." she sighed electronically. "That little fissure was bothering me cankles ever so dreadfully....I feel like a new drop o' lava I do." "Zarky." Alli smiled, still somewhat embarrased by the whole affair. Its one thing to look bad...Its another to make a fool of yourself in front of Trek Nerds. "If you're ready girlfriend lets go....I got a date with a manicurist in half an hour." "Absolutely." Mary agreed. "By boys...see you in a month." she waved a pseudopod. The Technicians could hardly wait.....especially if the roomie came back too. "Dude...did you see her legs? She was totally hitting on me!" one said as the door hissed shut. "Is that a Sword in your pocket, or are you happy to see me?" Allison (Alli) Von Ernst-----written by Old Chris
Location: The hallway outside Gryphon's quarters "Mr. Gryphon Stone?" Allison began without preamble, reading from the small 3x5 card clutched in one hand, while slurping on the It was boring duty for the most part....unless your name got drawn to visit Arel Smith, but so far Alli had been lucky on that ~~Noodle-bread, did I really just say that out loud?~~~ ~~~Snap to it girl.~~~ Allison grinned cheesily mentally shifting gears from Allison: Armory Girl Extraordinaire, to 'Just Call me "Mr. Stone," she repeated, her voice a bit huskier, "I'm sure you are totally aware of Starfleet regulations regarding dangerous ~~~OMG...he is like so totally cute!~~~ her rain danced in little happy circles. Batting her eyes again for good measure, Alli continued, "In this case we have two options.....first you can check your She paused, " An alarm that would require me to rush right over to your room.....don't ya know?" "Wow, now that's what I call excellent customer service!" he said with a chuckle that caused his tank top to become a little He wished now, against hope that something – anything, would change the context of this event. Like a good Red Alert, or ooh even a Code Green – Abandon Ship. That would have been perfect! Alli may have been young, but she recognized backpedaling when she saw it.. ~~~Oohh you spuff-headed ding-a-ling!~~ she berated Pouting a bit, her glitter speckled cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "Um...yeah...well I guess we all gotta fly...or whatever sometimes. Ummmm sorry to bug ya dude....enjoy your big knife I guess." "REALLY?" Alli clappe dher litle hands together, "With me?" she somehow managed to blush and go completely white with nervousness at the same time. "Totally Zarky!! Umm...I'll be ready about eight...umm twenty hundred K?" "In the Saddle" Consul Ayanna Hinanat ================= The diminutive card shark didn't seem to notice her at first. Holding back a smile, she knitted her eyebrows before responding. "Why, yes. I love riding." "Oh, I can tell. I do a lot of riding myself ya know." Leo replied wiggling his pelvis once. "Nothing competitive. More purely recreational. You may have heard of the Ranchero Leo. It's somewhat of a stud farm." "What do I like about it?" Ayanna paused, thinking about her response. "The feeling I get between my thighs of course." "OH MY!" Leo said trying to keep from quivering. "I know what you mean. Ya know, I often try to imagine what it is like for the horse. Wild and needing to be tamed. Leather cinched tightly to its body while its straddled by a wild woman undulating and gyrating. The beast beneath you working in unison with its mistress as her muscles quiver with the strain." "Personally, I never use a whip. It's very traumatic and I believe in ultimate comfort for what ever is beneath me." Her single left eyebrow raised as a slight curve to her lips became apparent. "I believe I didn't get your name. I'm Consul Ayanna Hinanat." "Streely. Captain Leo Streely. Goodwill ambassador of the Federation." he said, grabbing her hand in his and stroking it oddly. "Nice to meet you Consulor. This ship is chalk full of loons and kooks. You're going to have your hands full." "I have started to see that." Her head tilted slowly to the side. "Ambassador. Huh. Funny I've never seen you around my department Captain. I'm Chief of the Liaison department. I deal with diplomats and ambassadors all day. As well as attorneys and paralegals. Still, I have yet to meet you around the hollowed corridors of the department." "No. I'm just a keen observer." Her eyes lowered to drive the point home. "I'm actually a judge, not a counselor. Tell me Captain, have you been a good boy? Because....if you are doing anything illegal undercover, I will get you in my court." Ayanna did have indeed sheer moments of playfulness in her nature. "Yes, like a robe and hammer." She paused yet again, taking him in. "Honey, as much as I'd love to see what you had undercover, I took a promise oath." "A promise oath? You know what they say, 'WHAT HAPPENS ON THE GALAXY STAYS ON THE GALAXY' I think a beauty with your riding experience should..." "I'm a virgin...and I intend on staying that way until I meet my Imzadi." She smiled sweetly, gaging his reaction. "ME TOO!!! This is incredible!!!!! You know what they say, when a virgin human and a virgin Betazoid meet one another, they become what the ancient Betazoids call Idazmi. Its like opposite of imzadi! We're honor bound to have cheap casual sex so that when you find your imzadi you will know he is the one! Shakes, shut off the recorder. We're gonna get naked." he said then after a pause added "Better yet, keep the amera -ca unning-ra if you know what I mean." Her hand flew up, offering a small tiny wave with eyes that were blazing. Turning, she sashayed down the corridor with a little purposeful extra swing in her hip. She was not bad, really...she was just made that way. "Boss...." "Hurts Like Hell" Imanai Hinanat - NPC ------------------------------ The pain in her heart hurt more than usual this evening. It was a slow, dull agonizing thud that injured her physically just as it tore her soul apart. Ayanna was gone, Orlando was gone, and she felt in a word, hollow. The two loves of her live were off blazing their own paths across the stars, and here she sat feeling dejected and iced. More than her shop tied her to the station this gloomy day. Her eyes drifted down to her left hand that housed the large diamond, it was a bitter remembrance to her ties to this floating city. She was positive her husband was off somewhere stuck deep in the quagmire of his lab perfecting the newest batch of dilithium plus crystals. That damned project had been his baby for years, ever since the unique mining of the gases near the station proved that they could boost the efficiency of the crystals to new heights. Jealousy bit at her, gridded at her until she wanted to scream out loud. A raw pain stripped her eyes of all joy and happiness. She did not have the ability to smile with her eyes, all she could do was attempt to overcome the bitter sadness that ate away at her day in and day out. The crystals, at that point had become his lover, his wife, his companion leaving her in her small shop of holistic medicine. Left to widow away the lonely hours perfecting her natural cures that promoted health, she found little comfort in the store that held her life line in it's small hands. Days like this, she missed the old times. Ayanna full of life and running around the station, causing her humorous grief with her antics. Orlando, her Imzadi, as he would come to her. She knew she was one of many, yet she was his 'one'. He never admitted that to her, his roguish manner would not permit that. Yet, she *knew* it in her soul. He had been the spark that set her life afire once more. His Deltan heritage commanded her presence the moment they met. She instantly knew in her soul that he was hers in life and in death. He was hers, but just out of reach. Pain, yet again. The one secret that kept her, Ayanna, and Orlando together was the simple fact that Ayanna was his. She was not of Michael, her husband. Her stare drifted out past the view windows into the deepest recesses of space that her optical nerve would permit her to see. Orlando was out there, free and content, trading his material. Ayanna was on board the USS Galaxy, proudly serving the Liaison department defending justice for what it was worth. She was here with nothing but a deep desire to escape the boring monotony that had become her life. Brooding dark Betazoid eyes met the vastness of space with it's twinkling stars in a vain attempt to recapture some memory of days gone by. She knew that the loneliness would haunt her, yet she did not expect it to come in random spurts as it had been. It was easy to feel sorry for herself right now. Especially when Orlando haunted her day and night. Between trips had been the worst for her to deal with. The secret letters he wrote her, the holoimages of his various adventures around the universe, and his recorded voice professing his undying love did nothing in the wee hours of the morning when all she desired was to feel him next to her in bed. Instead, she woke up usually alone and with cold feet. Her husband off to duty, determined to rise to the next rung of the Starfleet ladder while she stood at the bottom, supporting him...somewhat. This was her life, what she resigned herself to do until the end. Yes, she could leave her husband with the false hope that Orlando would come to her and settle. She knew in her soul that he was not that type of man. He loved the ability to sail the galaxy more so than he loved her, despite his words of passion to her. His life and his love was his ship. Her husband's life, and his love was his lab. Her life and her love...that was hard to say. "Ghosts" Part Four Both Pinky and The Brain had come to a stop about a kilometer away from the camp, the terrain obscuring them from visual or sensor detection. A quick passive scan determined that the nearby force was admitting jamming signals on virtually every frequency, and ergo it was likely transporter and communications equipment would have problems functioning. They were going to have to do this the old fashioned way. Manned artillery emplacements... "Dental Plan" Lt. Commander Th'Khiss K'aa Dentistry, Deck 11 The reptilian flicked its nictitating membranes in quick succession as "I'm.. not exactly sure at this point", Th'Kiss K'aa answered once the His words almost literally stopped the Pahkwa-thanh mid, stride. The "Then we're done?" "Professionally, yes...", Chaar said, but gestured for K'aa to remain Coming from any other member of the crew, the question would be K'aa had to admit he had a unique perspective, and despite the cronic "I don't have words to describe... the disappointment", he said at A curtain of needle-like teeth came into sight as Chaar smiled. Relaxing in the dentist's chair, K'aa took a minute to gather his "Yesss!", Chaar drawled with sympathy. "It's like they're not "Their communication is almost entirely verbal." "Wha... 'almost' entirely? What do you mean?" "They can't see in ultraviolet. To them, your scales are a uniform As the Pahkwa-thanh's eyes widened, K'aa knew that the epiphany was "And hearing?" "Nothing below 15 Terran hertz, as far as I know", K'aa answered with Using slender digits to aid in the math conversion, Chaar slowly "I was reviewing a transmission from my father sent during my... "Fascinating", Chaar mumbled as the weight of the revelation sank in. "As do they, Doctor", K'aa finished for the reptilian. "Even now, you "No", the saurian answered with a slight but uncontrollable shiver. "But? You're free to adjust the atmospheric controls within limits." The Pahkwa-thanh's head bobbed too and fro, never once falling in the "One of the advantages of being human I suppose, Doctor", K'aa said "Yet it defines so much of their appearance", Chaar observed. "As do K'aa slowly rose from the dentist's chair and gave his thin shoulders "While You Were Out..." "Adventure On" Flight Officer Aristi Ferguson ***** If I ever get out of here, this is going to make a great book...or at the very least a nice article in Anthropology Today. Wait, I'm getting ahead of myself. Time to back up. So, after Conca-Esska got me into that human-skin dress ('Utla-rat' and 'Eight-rat' being the names of the people who had died to provide the skin for said dress, I eventually figured out), she started in on some more preparations. Their version of makeup is apparently some sort of mud concoction with, I don't know, pulverized flowers and leaves ground into it. Bottom line is, whatever they mix in turns the brown color of the mud into something slightly not-brown, although it's hard to distinguish blue-brown, red-brown, and green-brown from one another unless you see them all together. Especially when it's really dark. Did I mention it's dark now? When I woke up in this tent it was decently light, and when I tried to escape it was very bright out, probably late morning or early afternoon. It couldn't have taken more than an hour for Conca-Esska's "assistants" to track me down and bring me back to the tent. Since then I've been sitting here, letting Conca-Esska do whatever she wants to in order to "beautify" me. And now that it's dark, that means several hours have passed, which means I've been captive here for almost an entire day. It's kind of weird because it feels like ages, yet...not. Oh wait, back to the makeup. I'm sorry if this seems so disjointed or like I'm jumping around all over the place, but this killer headache really has me out of sorts. Hardly anyone gets headaches nowadays, especially not this bad, so it's more than a little unexpected and most certainly annoying, especially since down here on this planet there are no hyposprays full of soothing chemical compounds available on demand. That reminds me, I wonder what happened to all the equipment I was carrying. There's nothing technological here that I've seen, which makes me wonder if the society has a taboo against it. Maybe that would explain why all my jewelry is missing, and why one eye socket is now missing its eye. All the rest of the stuff I could do without, but that eye...kind of need it to see. Although...maybe this will mean I can go for one of those new cloned replacements once I get back to the ship, instead of having to make do with a mechanical replacement. Hmm... Damn. Sorry. Makeup. As I was saying, the makeup they use is mud mixed with plant ingredients. That's one way of doing it, but it's strange. Most of the time when you see civilizations at this level of development who use compounds to enhance physical appearance, they're using all sorts of ground-up minerals, either dusted directly on the skin or mixed in with some sort of adherent. In this case, it's like they just started experimenting with cosmetic decoration in their recent past, so they're not quite sure how it's done and they're just making do with what they can immediately find on the ground. This is probably getting boring by now so I'll just say that after a couple hours of work, Conca-Esska has painted some interesting patterns on my arms with the red-brown mud (between my regular tattoo bands, of course) and accented many of the bones and ridges on my face and even a little on my neck. There are no mirrors here, but I'm sure it looks interesting, because it certainly feels interesting. Mud shrinks when it dries, tightening the skin underneath, and at least on my face it tickles like you wouldn't believe. After she put on all that mud, Conca-Esska started fiddling with my hair. Nowadays it's short, maybe shoulder length, and way shorter than Conca-Esska's nearly waist length rope of hair. But, with some more of the red-brown mud (I guess it doubles as a pomade down here) she slicked the hair back from my face, pulling it up and slowly forming it into something that I can only guess looks like a giant hair-fan. From feeling it (when she's not looking, of course; she got mad the first time I tried to touch it) I can tell that it's flat, sticking back from my head at about a 45 degree angle, and does sort of fan out behind my ears. Who knows what the hairstyle is supposed to be. Maybe it's some sort of cutting-edge fashion or ceremonial look or something. Man, I can't wait to get back to the ship and write all this stuff down before I forget it. Oh wait, that would mean they wouldn't get to sacrifice me in whatever elaborate ritual they have for such things. That would be nice. I'd really like to go on living for a while yet. "Reece. Ready." "See," I responded automatically, then blinked in surprise at what I'd just said. It took me a few seconds to realize that Conca-Esska had said anything, and another few more to realize that I'd answered her in her own language. Well, in her way of speaking I guess; it was clear they were speaking some form of corrupted Standard, and among other things I'd figured out "see" meant "yes", so really it wasn't that big of a stretch. Conca-Esska moved around to where I could see her, holding her hands out palm up, probably wanting me to stand. So I did, and of course I flinched when Conca-Esska screeched as my hair brushed the top of the tent, threatening to undo all her hard work. Apparently said tent is about as tall as I am, which is more than enough room for Conca-Esska because now that I'm standing and looking down at her, I realize that she can't be more than five feet tall, giving her close to a foot of head room in here. So, not wanting to incur her wrath I bent down slightly, making sure the top part of my hair-fan didn't brush the ceiling of the tent any more. That seemed to calm her down because she smiled, then waved toward another door in the tent, one I hadn't yet been through. "Go, Reece. Caim desstin." "Um, alright," I said, not sure what a "caim desstin" was. But if she was going to let me walk out the back of the tent without a big burly escort on each arm, maybe that was good. Maybe once I left the tent I could give them the slip and get out of here. After all, now it was night and the cover of darkness would help me escape. So I stepped forward, swallowing the lump in my throat, and pushed the tent flap aside. Now why hadn't I heard all this noise before? Immediately outside the tent was an area roughly semicircular, twenty feet or so in diameter, and ringed with what had to be dozens, maybe hundreds of people. They were all dressed similarly in browns, blacks, and the occasional greens, and they were all pressed in so tightly together that the whole mass of them looked like one giant squirming, undulating, murmuring organism. And they all looked human, or human enough. Except for the one... Was that a Denobulan over there, next to the man with the thick metal-- "Dag'n-Da!" the crowd shouted suddenly, as it became apparent to them that the centerpiece of their ritual had arrived. It startled me and I blinked, losing sight of the Denobulan in the crowd. If that was indeed a Denobulan and I wasn't just seeing things...that meant... Well, what did it mean? That my crackpot idea that these people were the descendants of the ship's crew might actually be true? There were probably some Denobulans on the Aiolos...and if they'd had kids, and those kids had kids, well...it was certainly possible. "Dag'n-Da!" the crowd shouted again, causing me to jump slightly. I scanned the crowd again, finally noticing that every sixth or seventh person was carrying a lighted torch, most of whom were waving them over their heads or pumping them up and down in the air. Great, a burning. My favorite. Apparently these people hadn't graduated to more complex forms of sacrifice, either. Why couldn't they be proponents of a quick slash to the throat or at the very least plain and simple beheading? At least those were quicker ways to die than by fire, and certainly less painful ones too. "Dag'n-Da." The third repetition of the strange word was quieter, and much closer. The breath of the speaker tickled my cheek as I belatedly realized there was now someone standing beside me, on my right side where my one remaining eye couldn't see. Slowly I turned and looked up into a strong, stern face framed by long, glossy black hair. Something danced in the man's black eyes, like a glint of fire on chips of obsidian, and as my mouth went dry I tried to figure out if that something was a hint of a smile, or amusement, or just plain wickedness. I took a step away from him, suddenly feeling the urge to be not so close to a man who very much reminded me of someone I'd known years ago, someone with whom I'd had a rather...interesting relationship. Best to not dwell on thoughts of past loves and all. It was then that I noticed the thick band of metal around his neck, which if I looked closer I realized was made up of several thinner pieces coiled together in an elaborate pattern. There were chunks of some sort of pink crystal embedded into it, and the thing was open at the front, making it look like a nobleman's torc from Iron Age Europe. Oh, so that's what that is, I confirmed with another quick glance around the crowd. Many other men in the crowd (and one or two of the women, too) were wearing similar ornaments, the glowing pink crystals easily visible in the relative darkness of the evening, though none was as thick or elaborate as this man's. That meant he was probably the leader. And of course that meant I should show him some proper respect. I stepped back further, giving myself enough room to execute a proper bow. By the time I straightened he was smiling confidently, the slightest hint of surprisingly white teeth peeking out from between full, soft lips. "Dag'n-Da su-lei gate dag'n," he said to me in his low voice, placing a flat hand against my sternum and holding it there. "I...I don't understand," I returned, trying not to shiver at the touch. Many people don't realize that on a Cardassian body, that area is covered in scales and bony protrusions and is very well protected, but it's also covered in nerve endings and is therefore very sensitive to touch. If this was a blessing of some sort to these people, I certainly hoped it would end soon. There's a time and place for such contact, and now most definitely wasn't it. "Su-lei gate dag'n," he repeated, though it wasn't clear if he actually understood the question or was just repeating words until he thought I understood them. "Su-lei dag'n, Kahru safe make." He turned, beckoning another man forward. This one looked similar in that he too was tall and had long, inky black hair and a stern face. But the newcomer's features were much more severe; that combined with his thinner build and the greenish cast to his face made him look almost angrily stoic. "Imp take. Show dag'n," the leader instructed. The newcomer bobbed his head three times, the motion making it look like his upper body was attached to springs. "See, Ka'tin. Imp take." Then he produced a long knife, almost the size of a machete and sheathed in a well-worn leather scabbard, and held it out to me. And at the moment I wrapped my hands around the weapon the crowd moved as one, parting down the middle and creating an exit, several quiet voices within still carrying the repeated words 'dag'n-da, dag'n-da, dag'n-da'. "Come," he grunted, turning towards the opening, not waiting to see if I would follow. My curiosity piqued, I of course had no choice but to follow. After all, this was going to make a great story, right? Top of the New New York Temporal Chronicle's nonfiction bestseller list, celebrated article in a half dozen scholarly journals...or at the absolute least a Featured Download in the Memory Alpha databanks. Yes, it was definitely time to see where the next part of this little adventure would take me. "Legal Beagles" Consul Ayanna Hinanat Lt. JG Ophelia Zamora Lt. Michael Dicen - NPC Ensign Charlotte Dooley - NPC Pilot Sanoe "Sunshine" Nani - NPC
Location: Legal Offices Conference Room B/Ten Forward =============================== She felt trapped by the departmental surroundings. Her immediate legal staff, two attorneys and a paralegal, sat looking rather morose at the oblong table. The first departmental legal meeting since her induction as Chief, and feelings of tenseness resided freely in the open air. Ophelia doodled on her padd, while Michael heaved a heavy sigh forward, and the young Ensign looked misplaced. "Okay....well..." Three pairs of eyes raised to meet her, the hint of boredom at their drab surroundings shouted at the leader to do something about it. This meeting was set up during non duty time, due to the fact that the legal side of the department was swamped since the mental collapse of Zamora. All knew it, especially Ophelia. "Let's go..." Ayanna raised herself from her seat, and was met this time by three pairs of confused eyes. "Look you guys, things have been tense around here for quiet a while. And, Ophelia, I'm not meaning that you caused it. In reality, Fay is to blame. I would react the same way if someone was after my family. But, I asked you all to this meeting as a way of opening the lines of communication. This room, is not conducive to that." 'Not likely react the way I did.' Ophelia thought to herself as she wondered when her last days of freedom would end. She felt the ability to be free from the brig slipping through her fingers, and at times like these, she felt great remorse. She should have known better with her reactions and claiming the devil made me do it did not work in legal circles. "So, Ten Forward. It should not be busy enough where we can't grab a table, grab a few drinks, and really 'talk' about the department. Ok?" "Sounds like a plan." The only male of the group responded. It was always a pleasure to be seen out in public with the three legal hotties. It gave his ego a boost, not to mention scored points with some of the other male crew of the ship. Ayanna's eyebrows instantly raised. She picked up on the feelings around the table. Ophelia's emotions still troubled her, for she knew that she was keeping something hidden. Her emotions did not match her facial expressions or words which led to distrust on Ayanna's part. The other two women nodded, rising from their seats and attaching the padds to their hands. Traveling to ten forward had been quiet, for within this group of four, many things that needed said remained unsaid. It was a quiet cloud of silence that hung over the heads as they entered ten forward. Upon entering, the normal crew would assume that the legal eagles of the Galaxy were in top form. The Chief was flanked by her protective party of three. Common place among attorneys and judges, they held their heads high with a certain level of authority that was retained for persons with years of legal schooling. The air of snobbery around them reached down with force, choking the respect out of the 'normal' crew that witnessed the invisible wave of legal royalty. Sitting, and ordering drinks, Ayanna got down to business. "So, what's up?" "With?" Dicen asked with a tad of hesitation in his voice. "The department. What's going on? I received a communication today from HQ that states that we now are going to be responsible for overseeing the extraction of child support from credit accounts from people on this ship." "Shit." Ensign Dooley muttered. She knew that the responsibility would fall to her. An amused look registered on Ayanna's face. "Ensign, it will be fine. Everything is pretty much automated already. For some odd enough reason, HQ doesn't believe that we have enough work in the department to keep us busy." "Oh...now that's wonderful.. Did you know that I have six pending divorce cases on this ship alone? Not to mention....all the little petty ass squabbles that these morons get themselves into and...according to Starfleet law..they have a right to have an attorney present. Guess who that attorney is? ME!" Rolling his eyes, he downed the shot of whiskey before slamming the shot glass on the table as if to prove some sort of point. "Michael...guess who the judge is that has to rule on all those petty ass squabbles?" Hinanat retorted. "With all due respect, your Honor...." There was something about that 'your Honor' line that just made Ayanna beam. Although she couldn't show it, it was certainly fun to hear. Holding her hand up, she nodded as if to say 'your excused for sounding like a fresh Cardassian cattle fart'. Sanoe Nani looked around for a place to sit and saw an open spot near the ships 'legal beagles,' in fact she noticed that every spot near the four seemed to be open. They looked like an island unto themselves. Shrugging her perfectly sculptured shoulders the beaming blonde pilot availed herself of the open seating. She chanced a peek at the group next to her and the first thought that filled her painfully optimistic mind was, 'wow the new judge has got to be one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen, and being on the Galaxy for a year and a half, I've seen A LOT of beauty!' Then she looked at the other three and realized the beauty didn't fall from the tree, as it were. She dwelled a little longer on the only male member of the group. He appeared a little short to Nani, but at 6'2" that pretty much applied to every man. The pilot of Saber 6 honed her hearing into their conversation. She had amazing hearing for a pilot, and loved to utilize it whenever possible, plus she really wanted to know what kinds of things 'legal people' talked about. "I know that we all have a lot of work to do, and technically, I haven't even touched the diplomatic core yet. Personally, I'm putting that off a while." Ayanna spoke. "As an ex Chief of this department, Ayanna...I can tell you that the diplomats take care of themselves. They are rather pompous beings." Zamora contributed in a quiet manner. "Like we aren't?" Michael snorted with a chuckle. "There's nothing wrong with thinking highly of yourself." Hinanant smiled as she scanned the room. She had a habit of doing just that, checking her surroundings. "Anyway, back to business. I need a run down of all the cases we are involved in. Just who vs. who sort of thing in relation to the civil cases. I don't want to have any claims of conflict of interest this early. I'm planning on munching those out within the next few weeks depending on where the case is currently. I've had several attorneys for other parties contact me within the last few days attempting to try to schedule a time for a video conference for trials. The divorces cases are first on the list. I want to get those out of the way ASAP so it can clear up the docket for the more serious matters." "Like drunken brawls and insubordination cases?" "Dicen...." She warned with her voice. For a short dude of five foot four, he packed a lot of punch with attitude. Ophelia just remained silent, thinking to herself concerning her circumstances. The four sat, alone, and regarded each other with silence for a few moments of time. The legal eagles, as they preferred to be named sat oblivious to those around them that affectionately called them the legal beagles. Why beagles? The reasoning was yet to be known. "Do you have any idea why we are called legal beagles instead of legal eagles?" The blond ensign Dooley blurted out after taking a long sip of her Pan Galatic Gargle Blaster. "No idea." Ophelia offered. "Arn't you a little young for one of those?" Dicen quipped. "No!" Dooley retorted. "I'm legal age." "Really?" Michael's eyebrows arched. "Down Dicen..." Hinanat growled. 'Eeeep, did they hear my thoughts,' Sanoe thought as she slurped her slushie down in one long draw on the bright red straw. 'Now that's just creepy!' was the thought that followed. Well that and 'too bad, that one legal beagle was one cute puppy.' Dicen glanced around, caught wind of the thought and the beautiful creature it came from, and outright grinned in her direction. "Michael!" Ayanna barked. "Don't make me force you to wear the inhibitor collar again...." "Judge! I swear, I wasn't reading anyone's thoughts....." It was difficult having a full Betazoid on the team. Hinanat thought. Great for being a lawyer, but as a cocky SOB, Dicen had a habit of mind reading just for the hell of it. Or, especially when he thought he had the potential to get laid. It was entirely frustrating. Permitting a heavy sigh to float through the air, Ayanna wondered if taking the group out in public was such a grand idea after all. "Choices and Crossroads, Part I" With Benedict "Max" Maxwell, MD Captain, Commanding Officer HS Norman Bethune HS Norman Bethune, Utopia Planitia Shipyards, Earth Orbit, 2415
The tour began on the bridge for the new command team, dressed in various colors to indicate their department, with the new Captain wearing command red for the first time in his 37 years in the fleet. They all marveled at the clean lines and surfaces that made up the command center of the second ship in the Jarvik class of hospital ships. The floor carpeting was teal to reflect the mission of the HS Norman Bethune, named for the developer of battlefield medicine on Earth back in the early 20th century. Ironically, the Norman Bethune was not to embark on a mission of battlefield medicine, but a mission of medical charity. Assigned were some of the brightest medical minds in all of the Federation, including xenosurgeons, xenopediatricians, toxicologists, medical researchers, and the best trauma medics and nurses that Starfleet Medical could produce. And they were all working for him. The Captain allowed the fleeting moment of egotism to pass before the barely imperceptible smile on his face faded back to his usual and now legendary dour disposition. When the tour of the Bridge was done, they piled into the turbolift and made their way to the first of several decks dedicated to medical triage and treatment. Before the doors closed, the Captain looked at the dedication plate mounted on the wall next to the 'lift and smiled. It read, "Go forth and heal". On deck 9, they entered a brightly lit hallway with wall markings indicating which direction took you to one of the fifteen surgical suites that were there. All the suite numbers were illuminated, which the guide explained, "Was to advise as to the availability of the suites. White meant they were open, and cyan indicated that they were in use." With several nods of approval, the senior staff followed the guide to the closest suite and were greeted with a very clean and ultra modern surgery room, complete with multiple replicators, a centered biobed/surgery table, and service carts lined up against the wall in between the replicators. "This suite can be made ready in less than five minutes," the guide explained. "There would be minimal wait times for critical patients. And environmental services will love the fact that these suites are self cleaning, as well." The murmurs from the group indicated high approval, especially the Ops and Engineering Chiefs. "Next, we'll visit the living quarters for both crew and patients..." ****************************** 27 years prior...on Earth "Why are you pushing this issue again, Mom?" he was whining. Even at his adult age, his mother always managed to make him feel like a ten year old. For her part, Doctor Benoit, rank of Captain and in charge of the MD program at Starfleet Medical, simply smiled. She knew she had her young son right where she wanted him. "Benny," she explained patiently, "you have the knowledge and skill to become a doctor. You always had. Ever since that mess with Darla, you've fought me on every occasion to even consider medical school again." "It's not about Darla, Mom," Max answered. "It's just..." He stopped. It was about Darla, and it always had been. Ever since the divorce, Max had trouble with the concept of devoting four years of his life to learning how to become a doctor. He could even say that the result of his first attempt traumatized him against trying again. "It's just what, son?" his mother prompted. "It's just that I'm right? I'm your mother; of course I'm right." She crossed her arms as if to physically demonstrate that point. Her hair had a lot more silver in it now, like the contrails of sub-atmospheric crafts. The streaks made her appear even more regal and beautiful than Max ever though possible. She leaned closer and cupped her only son's face in her still smooth hands, a small loving smile on her face. "Make your mother happy, Benny. Please consider moving up to what you always wanted to be. You've played Medic long enough, I think." She didn't remove her hands, and Max did not pull away. She was right, and it was time for him to let go of old demons. "I'll do it, Mom," he finally said after a long silence. "But I'm not going to the San Francisco campus." "Oh?" Benoit said with a quizzical look on her face. "Where else could you possibly go?" She wasn't hiding that she wanted to be directly involved in his tutelage. "Cornell, Mom. I want to go to Cornell. They have a program that will allow me to use my experience and standing as a mid-level practitioner and graduate me as a resident in two years." Captain Gloria Benoit considered the idea for a moment, then slowly nodded. It made sense, and would put him on a fast track that the Academy by it's current standards couldn't offer. Yet. "Alright, Benny, I'll make the arrangements-" "No, Mom," Max interjected, shaking his head emphatically. "I want to get in on my own merits. I can't be Gloria Benoit's kid anymore. I love you dearly, and with all my heart...but I need to do this on my own." Tears welled up in his eyes and he added, "Please, Mom. Let me try to fly again on my own." With tears of her own, Gloria smiled and nodded in agreement. "Of course, Benny. I understand." And she pulled him into a strong embrace, the kind that only a truly loving mother can give her child. Max reciprocated, the tears flowing freely down his face. "Thanks, Mom. I love you..." "Choices And Crossroads, Part II - The Conclusion" Benedict "Max" Maxwell, MD Captain, Commanding Officer HS Norman Bethune
Ready Room, HS Norman Bethune, Utopia Planitia Shipyard, Earth Orbit The pre-departure reports were tedious at best, but Max waded through them, signing off on each item after giving it a careful read. He didn't want too much in terms of decorations in his office, but did have models of every ship he has served on: The USS Nobel, his first assignment; The USS Galaxy, his second assignment and home for three years; and the USS Titan, where after a bad run in with Captain Riker, he left for Starfleet Academy where he taught field triage and treatment courses for future medics, field nurses, and doctors. Mounted on the opposite wall was an autographed baseball bat that his eldest son hit in the Galactic Baseball Series of 2397 to win the game. Connor had later said in an interview that he was dedicating that game to his father, who didn't let time and distance get between them when it counted the most. In fact, Max was in the stands behind home plate at that game. It was one of the proudest moments of his life to bear witness to his son living his dream. Not for one moment did he think he would be sitting in this very chair, in his current capacity. In fact, it was only one month ago that he was promoted to Captain after twenty years of hard work and innovations in medicine, including a new cloning technique that reproduced stable organs to transplant. His research into gene therapy and hybrid medicine earned him several awards, but they all paled to the awesome responsibility that was offered to him. And he could not say no... ****************************************************************************** One Month Ago, Starfleet Headquarters, Earth... "...And I affirm that I will execute to the fullest the responsibilities of the rank of Captain," Max finished. The room erupted in a roar of applause as several comrades and friends leaped to their feet in celebration of the newly promoted Captain Benedict "Max" Maxwell. He was sharp in his dress Medical teal uniform, the fourth pip looking like it always belonged there. Max shook hands all around and then the party really got underway (after relocating to Sam's Bistro down the street from Headquarters). Max was even convinced (after many shots of tequila) to sing a karaoke version of "There Goes My Hero" by the old Earth band Foo Fighters. Later, after most of the crowd had said their goodbyes and returned to wherever they came from, Max was alone with a few close companions from over the years. When all but a striking redhead remained, Max was silent for a while. They looked into each other's eyes, her red eyes aglow with the love and admiration they had shared for over thirty years. A fortunate accident involving Q resulted in her becoming human, and they grew old together with no regrets. She now had the rank of Commander and served as first officer on the USS Cousteau for a few years before returning to Earth to be with her husband. They had even gone through command school together several years back. They held each other close as they danced to the slow music of an adult contemporary band from Betazed, the memories of everything that led to this moment flowing between them. Occasionally, she would giggle like a schoolgirl as Max whispered an old joke or tease they often shared. It was the perfect night for them. Or at least one in a series of perfect nights they have shared, like the ones that yielded their three children: Marcus, Anastasia, and Yanick. Those children were all in Starfleet now, two were officers, and one enlisted. They were proud of all three of them, and never pressured any of them into their chosen careers. After what seemed an eternity between them, they finally adjourned to their condo over in Scottsdale, Arizona (via rapid shuttle transit). As they entered their home, the home's communications center came alive with a litany of callers and messages. One message froze Max in his tracks, prompting him to sit down and opening the message in the holo display. "Hello, Max," the white haired Admiral greeted. She had aged gracefully since they served together on the Galaxy. It was no surprise that she rose to the rank of Admiral, and one of the youngest to date in Starfleet Medical. After a moment, she continued. "I'm sorry that I missed your party, however I was in meetings with BuPers and Commander Starfleet." There was a pause, then she continued with an even broader smile on her face. "I am pleased to announce that you are being offered command of the second Jarvik class Hospital Ship to be produced from the Utopia Planitia Shipyards: the HS Norman Bethune. Congratulations, Captain. I'll expect you at Headquarters at 0900 sharp in the morning to begin your processing." With that the screen went blank and left a stunned Max Maxwell staring at the screen for quite some time until his chirping wife in her excitement began slapping him on the shoulder to get his attention. They shared a long hug and many more tears flowed as their perfect night just got even better. ************************************************************************************* Bridge, HS Norman Bethune, Utopia Planitia Shipyards, Earth Orbit
"Departure status," Captain Maxwell queried. "Engineering reports ready, sir. Intermix is optimal, engines are primed." "Ops standing by, all readings nominal, sir." "All mooring beams and tractors secured and the ship is at station keeping, sir." "All decks report ready, sir." "Spacelanes are clear for departure, sir." "We have received clearance from Traffic Control, sir. We're good to go on your word." Max stood forward of his command seat, flanked by his First and Second officers. This was it, his first time taking a ship out of spacedock, ever. "Helm," Captain Maxwell directed, "take us out, full thrusters." The holoscreen began to move slowly, as the massive vessel began to slip out of it's arachnid-like enclosure. The 360-degree view caused mild disorientation to one crewman, who was promptly escorted off the bridge. Maxwell made a mental note to talk to the CMC about a suitable replacement. When they had finally cleared the enclosure, a chime sounded and telemetry began flowing through several consoles. Numerous reevaluations and safety checks were performed to ensure that they were safe and clear to depart at a higher speed. "Reconfirmed, sir," reported the Ops officer. "We are cleared for accelerated flight and departure." "Very well, Commander," replied Max. "Increase speed to full impulse until Oort Cloud clearance." The view demonstrated that they were indeed increasing to 0.9c, expertly navigating their way out of the Sol system. Just before they cleared the Oort Cloud, Max silently took a seat and looked at his First Officer. His wife. The flawlessly beautiful red-eyed redhead glanced back at him and gave a smile that only married couples share with each other, then quickly faced back forward. "Sir, we have cleared the Oort Cloud," the young Xenexian helmsman reported. Max had hand picked him for his impressive flight scores out of the Academy. "Very good, Lieutenant," the Captain acknowledged, who then waited until his First and Second Officers took their respective seats on either side of him. Then he gave the order that he was looking forward to. "Plot a course to Betazed, warp factor five," he ordered. "Aye, sir. Course laid in, Engineering reports standing by on warp factor five." After a deep breath, he was ready. "Execute." "O-M-G"
Starring : Allison von Ernst Mary Poppins the Horta Percy Preston Bing the Beautician
(Takes place right after Samurai asks Allison out on a date)
Ignoring the sock affixed to the outside portion of her door, Allison von Ernst burst into her quarters and screamed. This rather surprised her roommate Mary Poppins and also to a certain extent the naked young man who was currently sharing her company. "Blimey Luv!" the Horta exclaimed in shock, as she and her paramour scrambled for cover "I thought we'd established the 'sock on the door' rule for knocking." Ignoring the rock….or rather ignoring the pimple faced geek that said rock considered a boy-toy, Allison screamed again, this time dancing around in little happy circles in the middle of the room. "GLRRRGLE BRRRGLE HOP-HOP WHEEEEEE!!!!!" she screamed, waving her arms at Mary.
"She's gone mad!" exclaimed young Percy Preston….the aforementioned pimply faced lad. He was scrambling for a shirt and his shorts, but if ther was one thing that 3 months of dating Mary Poppins had taught him, it was to be prepared to make a dive for your skivvies at a moments notice. "WHEEEEE WHEEEEE WHEEEE!!!" The blond from Iceland continued to make little hopping motions, pointing excitedly to herself, and some indistinct direction out of doors.
"Whats that luv?" Mary inquired, "Timmy's trapped in a well you say?" Alli snorted and gave Mary a quick boot with her foot…." GRRRRRGLE BRRRRRGLE!!!!!!----OUCH!" Unfortunately said kick was…..well for lack of a better term exactly like kicking a rock. "OWWWWWW…Geeez Mary! That hurt…..stop making fun of me this is like…totally important!" "Feeling better luv?" The horta asked prettily, "Your words are starting to make sense, but I'm afraid you arent." Remembering the urgent mission that brought her here in the middle of the day, a big cheesy grin broke out over Allison's glitter speckled cheeks. "YO….naked dude." she pointed at Percy and then the door. "Out !"
"I …I thought you said she was supposed to be on duty all day?" Percy fished his sock out from atop the lamp shade. "We were supposed to be alone…." "OUT!" Alli repeated. "Important Girl Talk time and you're not invited!" "I need to find my other sock…." "Hel-lo….its taped to the outside of the door….Vamoose!!" Sighing a rocky sigh, Mary reached up to peck her young stud with a pseudo pod. "Better go dear….I'm afraid the young thing has gone quite daft and is ever so serious about these matters." Percy was grumbling to himself. "On the outside of the door…oh yeah…..grumble grumble..…supposed to mean knock before freaking entering…grumble…"
As the door slid shut Mary rounded on Alli. "This better be good duckie……he brought the geologists brushes this time….." she started to say only to be interrupted by a third scream from her roommate. "GRRRGLEE!!!!! WHEEEE!! HUBBA HUBBA!!!!! OMG OMG OMG OMG!!!!!" A renewed interest in excited hopping was giving the poor Horta a headache, and she settled down wearily to watch Allison start to hurriedly dig through her impressive makeup case. Selecting a silver lipstick case, Alli whirled around and held it under Mary's nose. "BRRRRRGLE!!???!!!???"
""No thanks luv….I already ate. " the rock sighed, clearly getting nowhere. Gasping in Shock Alli whisked back her lipstick and cradled it defensively. "GLLRGLE!! NO NO. BRRRGLE BRGLE!!!" Enough was enough. Weighing in at slightly over 700 lbs Mary Poppins had quite a bit of heft to her…..in frustration she extended a pseudo pod and slapped the deck with all her strength!
WHAAAAAM!!!!! "THAT WILL BE QUITE ENOUGH YOUNG LADY!!" she bellowed at the same time causing poor Allis to jump up onto her pink kitty kat bed covers. "Will you please tell me what the bloody hell is going on here?"
"He asked me out?"
"He?" "HE HE….you know…HIM!!" "Who?" "The guy….the cute one!!" Mary shook her head…..a habit she picked up from humans…..not that she had a head. "Allison dear…start at the beginning….your starting to hurt me gulliver." Leaping down from atop her bed, Alli took Mary by the pseudo pods and gushed. "Okay…Iwastotallylikedoingmyjobpickingupweaponsandsuchright?" "Umm…right." "okayand?Irangthebell,andhewaslike Hel-Lo totallycuteand OMG IthoughtIwasgonnadie ya Know?" "I think…" Mary was barely keeping up. Allis was fanning herself with her hands to keep calm, "And anyways…I was like Hello…and he was like Hello to you….and I was like all cute and stuff, and he had to sign out his weapons, and he was like whatever….and I was like whatever! And then he's like AHHHHHH GRRRRRGLE BRRRRGLE!!!!"
"Allison….." Mary Warned.
"Sorry…..He was like all asking me out to dinner and stuff TONIGHT!!! And AHHHHHHHHHH" Alli screamed again, for the first time making somewhat sense to the poor Horta. "A date Luv? Tonight?" she inquired. "Totally!." Alli bobbed her head crazily, her hair slightly askew from all the hopping. "Oh….and I was totally asking what you thought of this shade of lipstick for tonight?" "Tasty." Mary assured her, "But then again I'm colorblind Luv you know."
Alli groaned…"But I need your advice Mary….OMG its totally going to be a DISASTER!!" HEr face fell and she threw herself across her bed. " Im doomed….I'll never be ready in time. Never! He's gonna hate me!" There were times Mary wished she had eyes to roll. "There there dearie." she patted the girl with a pseudopod. "Its barely ten o'clock in the morning….which by the way….I though you were on duty today?" "Work? " Alli made a strange face "Puh-Shaaa! As if! I totally called in sick…this is an emergency right." "Well then that leaves us….what? Ten hours to get you ready?" "Im dooooooooomed!" Alli wailed into her pillow. "Tut tut….none of that dearie. I may not understand your human mating customs, but we rocks have a natural talent for operating under pressure." Alli sniffed. "huh?" "Under pressure?" Mary repeated, "Operate under pressure Oh forget it luv….How am I supposed to figure out humor if you don't even understand basic geology?" "Do you think he likes me?" Alli asked completely ignoring the question. "I don't even know who HE is…….but he did invite you to this mating ritual correct?" Alli nodded, and began poking around in her makeup box again. ~Ten thousand shades and nothing to wear…~~~ "Well…" Mary was continuing as she lifted the comm line from the desk, "We Horta only mate every 30,000 years, but give me some time and I'm sure we could improvise in a pinch.
=/\= Herro? FiFi's Saron. This is Bing Speaking…How may I Herp you? =/\= The voice of the Filipino beautician floated out from the Comm speaker. "Bing-a-ling dear?" Mary answered. "Poppins here….clear your schedule luv, we have an emergency." =/\=Emergency…I thought you arready get prasma shower this week? No need visit for rong time now?=/\=
"Not me dearie." Mary sighed, watching as Alli in frustration upended her entire makeup case all over the bed spilling little lipsticks and compacts everywhere. "Its for little Allison….she's got a date." =/\= AHHHHHH GRRRGLE GRRRGLE =/\= Bing screamed over the speaker. =/\= A DATE? A DATE RIKE IN REAL MAN DATE?=/\=
"I'm assuming, but I haven't gotten that far." Mary admitted. "Needless to say she's in quite a tizzy poor dear….can you help?" Instead of a reply, there was a loud knock at the door which opened to reveal Bing herself. "I run right over!" she announced breathlessly "This carr for house carr. A-Number one emergency Dai!" Whipping out some shears from behind her back, Bing snipped them experimentally. "Stand back. I make you boootiful now!" 6552 |