STF

Sometimes a Lunch Break Works Wonders

Posted Sept. 21, 2021, 1:41 p.m. by Lieutenant Commander Gravel Mardusk (Chief of Security) (James Sinclair)

Posted by Lieutenant Cara Esmé O’Farrell (Counselor / Education Specialist) in Sometimes a Lunch Break Works Wonders

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Gravel Mardusk (Chief of Security) in Sometimes a Lunch Break Works Wonders

Posted by Lieutenant Cara Esmé O’Farrell (Counselor / Education Specialist) in Sometimes a Lunch Break Works Wonders
Posted by… suppressed (1) by the Post Ghost! 👻

(snip)
Gravel smiled at her and said “No, probably not. You’ll be counseling Tellarites in a mining colony by dinner time tomorrow.” He reached up and pulled the sheet off of her and gazed hungrily up and down her body. “So I guess we better make the most of the little time we have left, then… huh?” and he reached up and pulled her to him.

Mardusk

Cara laughed, “Do ya think she would? Cause that would be amazin’! A mining colony means no warp travel and Tellarites are a blast ta work with. Only time I get ta....” She laughed softly as he pulled her to him and there was no more talking for a long while.

O’Farrell

Some time later…

Mardusk stretched and looked at Cara, whose head was now at the foot of his bed while his was at the top. He smiled and propped his head up on his arm and said “You do realize we can’t just do this all the time, right? I mean… I’m not complaining, but at some point we will both have to work and we should probably try to find out more about each other if we are already talking about meetin’ the families… right?” and he chuckled.

Mardusk

Cara rolled to her side propped her head in her hand and laughed, a warm sound that moved its way toward him. “Now donna ya start that. Ya the one who kept goin’ on about ya ‘Orion reputation’ all mornin’.”

Cara sat up moving back to the head of the bed. “I thought that’s what all that question and tell was for.” Cara also knew they probably knew more about each other than most would at this point. They were trained and experienced in reading people, to pick up on what was not said as well as the obvious. “As for the parents I said I’d send yer mum some pears.” Cara kissed him, just because she could. “I donna think we are meetin’ anyone any time soon. How about another round - takin’ turns. I’ll start. How did ya end up Klingon nobility?”

O’Farrell

Gravel chuckled and laid his head on the pillow and looked at the ceiling. “That? Well… that is a story, for sure. So I kept butting heads with the higher ups. I have an issue taking orders from people that are stupid, you see.” and he chuckled. “Well… to get me outta my last CO’s hair, they made me a Liaison Officer to the Empire. Usually that’s a cush job, but I was sent as a observer on a Klingon warship. I guess somebody thought that would get me either hurt or killed. Anyway… I’m on the bridge of the battle cruiser Ghol under the command of now-Admiral-then-Captain T’Kor Drakenol… a real Klingon’s Klingon. Mean, stubborn, and refuses to back from anybody. So we are chasing some pirates that had been preying on trade in this sector, and we get them cornered near an asteroid field… which turned out to be their base of operations. Now, a Klingon battle cruiser is no slouch… but we were outnumbered five to one, not good odds. We took a torpedo and the tactical officer was taken out. So I jumped in and started to fire back. We managed to disable two of their ships, but the other three were pounding us to pieces. So I see that the main ship is adrift, but powered up; bridge crew probably dead. So I look at T’Kor and say ‘Give me ten of your best people.’ and he does. We beam over, and me and the Klingons just go to town on that crew. We take the ship, bridge is a mess but we make it work. I maneuver their ship between the Ghol and the other three and use it as firing platform. We take out the rest of the pirates, I get a Distinguished Service Medal from Star-Fleet and T’kor inducts me into House Noggra, the Great House he heads. Makes me his House Champion. So… there ya go. Thats how I became a Klingon noble.” and he shrugged.

Mardusk

Cara was sure there was a much more dramatic way to tell that story. Only reserved for Klingon halls and lots of blood wine. “Ogma reincarnated aren’tcha?” Cara looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. An Admiral for a mother, who ran away, on her own (if Cara had to guess) and an adopted ‘father’ of one of the great Klingon houses, and he was House Champion. He shrugged like it was no big deal, and if that’s how he wanted to treat it that was fine. Oh yeah, Cara had nothing to worry about. She was going to be tested and scrutinized under a very harsh microscope.
“Okay something about me that I want you to know. I am working on getting my forensic psychology degree.”

O’Farrell

Gravel scowled thoughtfully for a moment. “Forensic psychology. Using psychology to explain, predict, and prevent crime and victimization. Impressive. I’ve always wondered how fields like that compensate for differences in cultural and physiological psychologies. Lotta species don’t think the way a lit of others do… morality is kinda species-centric.”

Mardusk

“Well part of it is usin’ forensic science ta determine the possible species of the offender. Then that gives a startin’ point to determine those things, but most offenders donna follow the cultural morality norms of their species. How they deviate from that cultural norm is as unique as finger prints, so there’s another level or five of complexity there.” She stretched out against his side, head on leaning over on his arm. “We have ta earn 20 CE credits every 5 years to keep our license current. So I figured this time I’d try somethin’ new rather than reviewin’ what I already know. Alright, your turn.”

O’Farrell

“Something about me I want you to know? Hmmm…” Gravel said and thought in silence for a moment. “Well… Oh, okay. This. My Mom and I are investigated by Int and FedSec every year at random times. Even though my mom and dad came to the Federation when they were teenagers and I was born on Starbase 3, we are still audited every year to make sure we don’t have Syndicate ties. I won’t even start on the hoops I had to jump through to get into Security.”

Mardusk

Cara just shook her head, “And yer mom’s an admiral of Star Fleet but still gets checked up on?” She was a counselor and a good one but she still didn’t always understand the people who so effectively brandished their red tape. “So why security then? And donna ya tell me cause yer big, strong, and built like a tank.” She turned her head to look at him and poked him playfully in the chest.

“Honey, I ain’t built like a tank… I am a tank.” and he laughed. “As for why security; it’s because I’m not good enough mechanically to be an Engineer, I don’t like math enough to be a scientist, I hate dealing with sick people so no medical, and I don’t have the patience or candor to be a Counselor.” and he winked at her. “Your turn, sexy.”

“Okay, somethin’ about me....hmmm…oh! Hang on, I’ll be right back.” She kissed his cheek, got up, got dressed, grinned, “This would be so much easier with a connectin’ door,” and slipped out the door. She returned a few minutes later holding what looked like a sturdier version of a shoe box. She grinned a little sheepishly. “My most prized possession.” She sat back down on the bed and handed it to him.

He opend the box with care and looked inside.

Inside the box was the most well loved and tattered stuffed Snoopy. One of those toys you give toddlers that teaches how to use a zipper, buttons, snaps, buckles, etc. The white fur was no longer plush but worn down and rough. The black ears held on where sewn to the head, lifting them would show where the glue that held them down had dried and lost cohesion. Where the arms attached there was no stuffing, all bunched in the paws, and thread bare. The shoe lace was missing one side, the button on one pocket had been resewn too many times to count, and the snap closure was rusted. The blue of the jean jacket was now grey. The felt eyebrows were no longer attached by glue but seen on, and the nose. Oh the poor nose was missing the cute round cover, only showing short stubby pieces of yarn that were miraculously still glued on. “My grandmother brought me that the first time she saw me in the hospital before I came home. My dad found one, in new condition and got it for me a few years ago, but this one canna be replaced.”

O’Farrell, CNS

Mardusk smiled and gently held the toy in his hand. “Now this is an heirloom for sure. I’m surprised this thing doesn’t trip alarms every time it’s scanned. Computer wouldn’t have a clue what it’s supposed to be.” and he chuckled.

Mardusk


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