Lt Mason's office - engineer Meyer checking in

Posted Sept. 25, 2021, 5:11 p.m. by Chief Petty Officer Oscar Cameron Cascarrabias Demalia (Engineer (Grouch)) (Nicholas Villarreal)

Posted by Lieutenant Andi Meyer (Engineer) in Lt Mason’s office - engineer Meyer checking in

Posted by Lieutenant Andi Meyer (Engineer) in Lt Mason’s office - engineer Meyer checking in

Posted by Chief Petty Officer Oscar Cameron Cascarrabias Demalia (Engineer (Grouch)) in Lt Mason’s office - engineer Meyer checking in
Posted by… suppressed (5) by the Post Ghost! 👻
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?”

Oscar Cascarrabias

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.”

“Funny thing, they actually do have some reinforced doors in some of the medical facilities - high-risk patients, stuff like that,” Oscar said casually. “Still, yeah, the panels on Starfleet ships do seem to be more prone to damage and overloads than they should be.”

“That’s Starfleet for you,” Meyer commented, her tone suggesting more personal protest than mere engineering complaint. “Spending time and technology on ways to keep their officers in instead of keeping enemies out.”

Her fist finally unclenched, Meyer held it out in greeting. “Lt Andi Meyer. Failed Starfleet deserter and reluctant engineer at your service.”

  • Lt Andi Meyer

Oscar once again had reason to be dour. A Lieutenant. Sure, she also said that she’d apparently been forced back into service - desertion and yet keeping her rank - but the fact that she was an officer already put her outside of any social circle that he would normally occupy. He hated encountering bouts with reality like this. Something seemed completely perfect, and then… well, best not to dwell on it. Oscar saw the outstretched hand, grime and all, and returned the handshake. He doubted either of them could seriously contaminate the other.

“Oscar Cascarrabias, Chief Petty Officer. Failed Crewman - people kept promoting me so they could get me the hell off their ships - but I’m actually really good at the job. I just don’t enjoy the formalities that come with the work. So, since I’m a noncom and you’re an officer, you wanna’ be called ‘sir’, ‘ma’am’, ‘hey, other boss’, or what?”

Oscar Cascarrabias

“How about you call me Andi, Oscar Cascarrabias?” the woman countered with a wink. “Ain’t nobody got time for all of that sir and madam crap. Warp core’s going into meltdown and you’re not pulling your weight fixing it, then you’ll know when I’m addressing you. Don’t need a fancy title to do that.”

The sense that she had somehow encountered a kindred soul on this ship was doing much to lift Meyer’s previous dour mood. “So, what do I need to know about the Chief?” she nodded with her head towards Lt Mason’s door. “Is he as amicable as you? Or will I get torn a new one when he discovers my newly-built vodka still?”

  • Lt Andi Meyer

Oscar considered the question for a second. He had rarely, if ever, been called amicable, and when he was, it was typically one of his siblings making a joke. Still, the question was about CE Mason, not him, so he glossed over it.

“Well, as long as the still doesn’t make extra work for him, like obstructing a mission critical junction or something, I doubt he’ll care that much. He might wonder where you got the fathers, er, potatoes - sorry, I slip into Spanish sometimes and the translator can’t quite keep up - to make the vodka, since replicated potatoes make for terrible liquor (I’ve tried, I basically got burner fuel).”

“Oh, it’s not so terrible,” Andi’s tone carried a redundant defensiveness. “You get used to it quickly when it’s all that you’ve got. And these days I find more palatable liquors failing to pack that same, eye-watering punch.”

Then he remembered when he first reported to Mason.

“On the other hand, when I first met him, he was threatening to have a starbase quartermaster reassigned to a place he wouldn’t like. That was because said quartermaster was trying to get Mason to accept an equivalent warp core when he had requested a very specific one. He was still trying to get the previous Ogawa - McCoy-class, old but reliable, if you can get the equipment - back in working order before Starfleet changed over to this one. If he’d accepted the warp core the starbase was trying to get him to accept, it would have meant two extra days of installation compared to the core he’d actually requested.”

“There used to be a name for people like us around the fleets,” the woman mused, eyes and hands casually examining her immediate surroundings with a new appreciation. “Retrophiles. Never sat right with me that the name could be used as an insult. Sometimes, the classic models are simply the best.”
She shrugged, attempting to ignore the sensation forming in the pit of her stomach - that this deployment might not actually be as painful as she had feared. Dammit! Her anger at Starfleet had been meticulously crafted and not something she was prepared to relinquish just yet!

And now Oscar was slipping in to another habit of his - seeing how much he could push somebody’s buttons. Andi had just told him that she hated people who wasted time. Oscar was instinctively wasting her time with a long-winded answer instead of the two-sentence response that would have worked. What was wrong with him? Well, okay, that would be a diatribe in and of itself if it came from anybody else, but still, he actually wanted Andi to like him.

“So, he prefers for people to do the job right the first time, because he really hates explaining things more than once. He would hate the people who brought my stuff on board; idiots put my personal isolation suits with the regular ship supply, so now I have to go digging around once my shift ends.”

Oscar Cascarrabias

“I can admire a penchant for preciseness,” Meyer nodded in agreement, her eyes now studying Oscar’s unique attire, as if noticing it for the very first time. “Shame the computer wasn’t feeling so precise when it told me Lt Mason was in his office.” Then again, she had taken a minor detour en-route for some coffee.

“So, what is with the suits, if you don’t mind me asking?” Andi seemed to have no qualms delving into the personal with this relative stranger. It was he who had broached the topic in the first place, after all. “Some kind of allergy?”

  • Lt Andi Meyer

OOC: Bump

OOC: Coming back into things because I’m dumb and kept forgetting to post while I was doing other stuff on the site.

“Actually, it’s because of the fungal infection that gave me this lovely green hue,” Oscar said. “I spent ten years of my life in them, and then my parents and everybody else insisted that I keep wearing them because I hadn’t been forced to keep my personal hygiene in check. Something about interfering with the growth of the fungus, which made finding a cure more difficult.”

Oscar shrugged.

“I got used to them, and since everyone else hated my stink, I figured, whatever, I’ll just wear the trash can,” Oscar added.

Oscar Cascarrabias

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