Posted by Chief Petty Officer Oscar Cameron Cascarrabias Demalia (Engineer (Grouch)) in Lt Mason’s office - engineer Meyer checking in
Posted by Lieutenant Andi Meyer (Engineer) in Lt Mason’s office - engineer Meyer checking in
Well this was fancy.
There was a time when Starfleet engineer Lt Andi Meyers had been at home in an engineering department such as this one, although technology had no doubt improved somewhat in the intervening decade. By contrast, she cut a strikingly primitive figure, her brown overalls almost buried between layers of dirt and grime, regulation Federation boots replaced by an antique pair of black sneakers known as ‘chucks’. And around her waist, a heavy-duty toolbelt, from which hung all manner of historical items - hammer, wrench, pliers, a pouch containing a range of different sized screws…
Her features appeared somewhat younger than her 39 years, or perhaps it was merely the pink hair bringing a touch of youth to an otherwise weary and sun-beaten face. Still, the brass goggles sitting on top of her head kept the long, pink tangles out of her eyes. She hadn’t encountered a mirror in years and it showed. Not that she would recognise her own reflection if it was staring her in the face. The piercing lilac eyes were the same as they had always been. But the scar running along her left cheek - that was new, gained in the moment of her death.
She’d read a little on her new chief, particularly the controversies around the Calypso incident. But then who was she to judge anothers service record? She’d spent the last ten years hiding from the Federation on a backwater planet. And she’d almost have gotten away with it too if it wasn’t for that meddlesome exploration team.
Still, no sense in crying over it now. It wasn’t like she’d been torn from a pleasant and peaceful existence amongst friends and lovers, where her meager engineering skills had been highly valued and even considered essential to the prosperity of the village. Actually, it was exactly like that. Damned Starfleet and their damned eternal contracts!
The full weight of her loss was evident in the pounding of her fist against the chime of Lt Mason’s office. Compared to the almost musical tones of an iron bell and clapper, this one sounded empty. Soulless. Kind of like how she felt in that moment as she waited for the man to either order her inside, or perhaps out of the nearest airlock.
- Lt Andi Meyer (Eng)
At that moment, Oscar’s duty shift was about to begin, and so when he came into Engineering - sans his isolation suit and wearing a grimy uniform from just before the Hobus star’s warp-speed supernova destroyed Romulus and the surrounding star system, just in case someone from the camera crew (or anyone else, for that matter) wanted to be friendly - he wasn’t expecting to see anyone waiting outside of the Chief Engineer’s office. When he saw the Lieutenant, he was torn between being upset at coming across someone else immediately upon entering Engineering and just outright gobsmacked that someone else onboard shared his sensibilities.
And then he saw her punch the door chime.
That one single punch made Oscar’s heart skip a beat. He was unaware of the four-year age disparity between himself and the Lieutenant. Given her attire, he was also completely unaware of the severe rank disparity between them. For a second, he had this image of taking her to see the Mediterranean beach near where his family lived, speaking of a shared hatred of personal hygiene and a love of items that others might otherwise discard. Also, non-standard hair colors - although Oscar suspected that the woman’s pink hair was voluntary, whereas Oscar was stuck being green everywhere even though he was 99.9% human (the other 0.1% being an aggressive fungal genetic strain, hence the green color). Every fiber of him was fighting the urge to ask the woman out on a date then and there.
Then his better - or at least more familiar - instincts kicked in, and Oscar blurted out, “You know, if you break that, I’m the one who’s going to be fixing it. Any other extra work you wanna’ try to give me while you’re wrecking parts of a new ship piecemeal?”
She smelled him long before she heard him. But somehow voice and scent married together to provoke memories of the trash heap on Karanthia VI and endless hours spent rummaging for spare parts and discarded components. Meeting a fellow grease monkey on this vessel had been the last thing she had expected. Or maybe the Ogawa was a magnet for all manner of misfits and strays such as she?
“Well that’s what happens when you build starship interiors out of paper,” she spat, turning at last to face the other and offering her best sarcasm-laden grin. “I once lost my door key on Karan’ and not even a pneumatic ram could break that sucker down! Now that’s engineering.”
Her fist finally unclenched, Meyer held it out in greeting. “Lt Andi Meyer. Failed Starfleet deserter and reluctant engineer at your service.”
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