Nuts

Posted on Sun Oct 21st, 2018 @ 1:12am by

Mission: Season 2: Mission 2.A: R&R
Location: Estelle's quarters
Timeline: 2nd part to "Tasty Snake, Anyone?"
3001 words - 6 OF Standard Post Measure

Last time:

“You engineers are nuts”, Estelle shook her head. “And I thought our CMO was, keeping medicinal animals.” Stepping back out of the lift, her quarters were just on the opposite side, one of the benefits of being one of the medical shift leaders, short ways to work, or anywhere else on the ship. She keyed her place open.

Continued:

“Okay, so safe at home.” Liorga smiled, “And this is something else…” She’d never been in officer’s quarters before, no matter how many of them had invited her. When she was an officer during the war there was no such thing as private quarters, her ‘room’ was divided from the rest of the platoon by a towel, that she’d had to provide herself….

“I don’t know how I could have managed without you”, Estelle grinned. Through the open door, there was an unfinished cradle visible, sitting next to the now fully-painted concert piano. It was wooden, painted with a base coat of white, and about half of the Andorian logo already painted on it, along with accurate representations of the various planets and moons of that complicated solar system, all there for Tayalas to learn without feeling like she was learning something.

“What’s this, Dr. No-Maternal-Instincts?” Liorga prodded, pointing towards the cradle though no part of her body ever entered Estelle’s quarters.

“Come on in, have a look”, Estelle said. “It’s for Tayalas, a little Andorian culture and astronomy, packed into something that I hope a baby girl enjoys. I’m going to hang little planets and moons for her to play with, too. Engineered so she can’t strangle herself in them, of course.” Estelle had made sure her design met all the health and safety standards.

“Tayalas?” Liorga stopped for a second, running through her memory until the name registered, “That’s Ensign Norris’ baby. Yeah, she’s a cutie, she’ll love that.” Stepping into Estelle’s quarters she looked around, “So, yeah, nice place.” The doctor had twice the space for one person that she and Anya shared.

“Not yet, but I’m working on it”, Estelle said. “I couldn’t do without my piano, so I had the ship’s replicators make it. The paint has dried now, too. But all this standard furniture? Boring, uninspired. I have more on Deep Space Nine, just waiting to be taken aboard. “And then I’ll have space left over, going to have to see what to do with it. My quarters on the Tirpitz were much smaller.”

“You wanna see small?” Liorga laughed, “Anya and I basically share your closet. So,” Liorga smiled softly, “you play the piano?”

“I grew up on Andoria. Cabins there usually mean either two or four people to the same bed”, Estelle said, this time not exaggerating for effect. “Just sharing the closet is luxury. No, I don’t need the space, I’m good with small. But I’m not complaining either.” Rather than answer Liorga’s question, she sat down on her stool and started playing the Darth Vader theme.

“That’s very nice.” Liorga complimented, “Do you do Tim Burton’s Batman theme?”

“I’m sure I could, but I’d need the sheets for it”, Estelle said. She wasn’t familiar with the piece. “I usually play pieces by Beethoven, or Mozart… even some Johann Sebastian Bach, even though most of his work was religious music. I love trying piano versions of music from other cultures, too.” To demonstrate what she meant, she changed into a rendition of a popular Klingon drinking song.

That song just happened to be one Liorga knew from the war, when she was commanding the construction battalion they were protected by a unit of Klingon warriors whose CO was extremely fond of it. Without a thought, she joined in, remembering the words as best she could.

Estelle was impressed. She certainly couldn’t sing in Klingon without butchering most of the pronunciation. When the song was over, she said, “You and I, we should do a performance in the lounge one day.”

“Don’t know about that.” Liorga demured, she hadn’t really been big on performing throughout her life, “But maybe.”

“Well, only if you enjoy it, too”, Estelle said. Many people who loved music did not love the stage, and she wasn’t going to push. “I like your voice, and it was just the first thought that came to mind. I’m not good at brain-to-mouth filtering.”

“Glad I didn’t make your ears bleed.” Liorga smiled, “And I didn’t say no, just unsure. As for brain to mouth filter, I have mentioned that I work with Ens. Norris, right?”

“She’s good but she needs a few more years of experience”, Estelle winked.

“I’m sure I’ll be dragging her to you frequently.” Liorga sighed, rolling her eyes as she remembered having to argue with the Ensign who had been, quite literally, on fire a minute before that going to the doctor was a good idea, “Sami and I are trying to figure out if we should ask her to grow her hair so we can use it as a come-along or just go straight to a collar and leash.”

Estelle laughed hard. “I’m sure she’d wear it well, too. But the skipper might not like the idea. Best take it to private quarters.”

“I meant to keep her out of trouble.” Liorga laughed so hard she snorted, the very idea, “Don’t get me wrong, she’s cute, but so not my type. I mean, I might break that poor kid. Besides, I’ve got bras older than her.”

Estelle laughed. “Try not to break your lovers, okay? I like my job, but not having to get up in the middle of the night for emergency surgery.”

“Like I said, cute girl, just not my type.” Liorga shrugged, “A little skinny for my tastes.”

“Oh, that kind of break”, Estelle smiled. “I was wondering whether you’d had a plastic surgeon remove some Klingon ridges there, for a second.”

“Nope.” Liorga shook her head, “No Klingon here. Can’t do gagh…”

Estelle made a face. “Me neither. Targ is pretty good, but the way I prepare it, no self-respecting Klingon would touch it.”

“Well, maybe a Deltan then.” Liorga offered.

“You are insatiable, aren’t you?” Estelle asked. “But, if there’s no emergency holding me in longer, I’ll make targ roast tomorrow night. I do love cooking.”

“That’s good.” Liorga nodded, “I like eating. And I’ll bring the ale again.”

“I’m going to IFFY tomorrow morning, before my shift”, she said. They would be docked at Deep Space Nine by then, the ship’s schedule said. “I’ll see if they have some Klingon chef’s attire.”

“IFFY? Oh, that boutique!” Liorga realized, she’d heard Sami talking about buying something from there, no doubt for someone else; Liorga knew who, but she wasn’t saying, “I’m sure they’ve got plenty of things that will look good on you.”

“They scan your body shape, and then they can match whatever designs they have to you exactly before they’ll replicate the item”, Estelle smiled. “I’ve never had better clothes, unless I do the same here with my tricorder. But I’m not as good at designing something that doesn’t look… well, bland. My stuff is comfortable but…” She pointed at what she was wearing, which was an all-black turtleneck that was tight-fitting and comfortable, but the only accents of excitement were tiny little dark red sprinkles from the bubbling pot of stew.

“Well, I for one think that looks good on you.” Liorga said genuinely, “I can’t wear turtlenecks, it makes me look like a roll-on deodorant.” Laughing she continued, “But, if color and design is what you’re looking for, talk to Ensign Norris, she’s quite an artist.”

Estelle shook her head. “No, she’ll pick out clothes for old people, for me.”

“I doubt that.” Liorga laughed, though she was starting to wonder what effect the ale had had on the doctor, “You’re still young and vibrant and beautiful, anyone can see you’re not an old woman.”

“She called the XO an ‘older guy’, and he’s only a few months older than me”, Estelle said. “So, apparently not, from her point of view.” She smiled at Liorga. “But thank you.”

“I think she meant relative to her.” Liorga comforted, “I mean, she’s twenty-two, when you’re twenty-two a guy like Cdr. Taylor will seem older. Plus I’d bet good latinum that that kid has about zero experience with men to be able to tell who is what age. I know she didn’t mean anything by it, she’s too sweet natured.”

“I know”, Estelle shrugged. “It’s just not what I expected. I didn’t ask her about her experience either, maybe I should have. But she’s got a baby now, she’s in mother mode anyway. And there aren’t many guys willing to date a mother of a toddler, unless they just happen to be amazing with babies.”

“Again, unless I read her wrong, probably not something she’s looking for.” Liorga shrugged, “But, you’re right about her being in mother mode. If the combined engineering department worried as much about this ship as that one Ensign does about that baby this would be the most well maintained ship in the fleet… Or any other fleet.”

“I can imag… wait, it isn’t? This is one of the newest boats in service, and it’s not one of the best maintained?” Estelle wondered. She stood and walked to the replicator. “I better secure all my books with rubber bands, just in case the inertial dampeners fail.” She overlooked the fact that her bookshelf and collection were still on Deep Space Nine, and that it had that feature anyway.

“Would you calm down?” Liorga laughed, the doctor was either feeling the ale way more than Liorga thought possible or she was borderline nuts, “The ship is beautifully maintained, you and your books are fine… Wait, where are they?”

Estelle laughed. “They’re still in a cargo container on Deep Space Nine. And yes, the shelf uses rubber bands. It’s an old submariner’s trick that’s been passed along in my family. Cuts down significantly on the amount of post-battle tidying. I’ve got my piano magnetically bolted to the floor, too. Better safe than sorry.”

“Can’t disagree with that.” Liorga nodded, “So, feel better now?”

Estelle dropped her act and smiled at Liorga. “Couldn’t be better. I have a feeling I’m going to like it around here a lot. Though, I’m still wondering what the XO will come up with to get back at me. I’m sure he found out who sent the drone to his office.” Estelle gave Liorga a quick narration of the afternoon’s events, including all the high points.

“So you and Norris sent the XO a toilet duck.” Liorga said, throwing her head back laughing, “Wow… Whose idea was that one?”

“Take a guess”, Estelle grinned. “Who’s got the craziest ideas around here?”

“Well, looks like you’ve found a perfect sidekick in Ens. Norris.” Liorga said, wiping a laugh induced tear away, “You two should have plenty of adventures together here.”

“Even on a ship as amazing as this, there are bound to be dull times, and a repertoire of jokes should come in handy then”, Estelle mused. “Time will tell who’s got a sense of humour and who doesn’t. I tried playing the same joke on the skipper but I couldn’t. Security systems didn’t let my drone in.”

“Of course they didn’t.” Liorga stated, then explained, “Back in the sixties there was an alien parasite taking over the bodies of various Commanders, damn near overthrew the Federation, getting near a CO since then is like trying to put toothpaste back in the tube. I’m sure you’ll figure out some other way to test her sense of humor.”

Estelle nodded. “Hm, yes, that would explain it. Plus, she’s probably used to extra tight security, being a princess. I will have to find someone with access, to smuggle a pea under her mattress - except, this one large enough to really notice. Maybe her sister?”

“Maybe we feel them out a little more first?” Liorga suggested, not wanting to see Estelle sent off to the brig.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Estelle wondered. “It’s not like this is the top of my game.”

“I both look forward to and dread seeing the top of your game.” Liorga said, laughing with a shudder.

“Aren’t you glad you’ve suddenly appeared on my radar?” Estelle teased, putting her arm around Liorga and gently steering her towards the painting on the wall. “Who do you think should be getting these?” she asked, pointing at the antlers that were beginning to appear on Actaeon’s head. “Without the part about being torn apart by his hunting dogs, though.”

“Probably Dorso.” Liorga laughed, that kid was so woman crazy it wasn’t even funny, “Though I’ve heard about some guy in security called Fernando…”

“Who is Dorso?” Estelle wondered. “But yes, Fernando seems to be a legend around here. Haven’t met him myself yet, though. But for him, it would have to be horns, not antlers.”

“Dorso, he works with me in Engineering.” Liorga explained, “Cute kid, but thinks himself much more worldly than he actually is. Never met this Fernando, either, but Gallia says he’s a real pretty boy, possibly after Anya…”

“Toasty Buns?” Estelle grinned. “He’ll be in for a world of trouble. That woman is the definition of high maintenance.”

“You say to the woman who lives with her.” Liorga chuckled.

“You don’t get to repair her… her stuff, probably”, Estelle smirked.

“Frequent flyer, huh?” Liorga said, “Somehow I’m not surprised.”

“I guess it’s the same all over”, Estelle shrugged. “People in security, they always feel like they have to prove something.”

“Not all of them.” Liorga disagreed, but quickly conceded, “Most of them, though.’’

“I shall have to get a few more supplies on Deep Space Nine, then I’ll be set for the upcoming voyage”, Estelle concluded. “I hope Quark has what I need.”

Quark, a Ferengi name, that was all she needed to hear to know she’d be avoiding his establishment, but she didn’t let on, “I’m sure he will.” She began, then added, “Be careful, okay? Ferengi, they’re…. Not trustworthy.”

“This one’s okay”, Estelle smiled. “He’s the brother of the Grand Nagus, well-connected. And his nephew is a Starfleet officer.”

“That’s… great.” Liorga replied, her discomfort becoming harder to hide as she remembered a time when Starfleet had standards in who they would take.

“What’s wrong?” Estelle asked, wondering what had suddenly cause Liorga’s mood change.

“Nothing, nothing.” Liorga lied, “Guess all the hours I’ve been working have just caught up to me.” Lying was the next to last thing she wanted to do, she really was enjoying Estelle’s company, but telling her the whole sickening saga of why she hated Ferengi was the very last; Don’t want to scare her off, she thought, sure that hearing this stuff would do it.

“Well, I certainly don’t want to be the one responsible for you slipping up on the job and losing a finger tomorrow”, Estelle said. “Especially as that would cut into the time I can spend on the station.”

“Right?” Liorga laughed, “Engineer maimed, surgeon slightly inconvenienced, surgeon to receive medal from Starfleet. Film at eleven.”

“Hey, if I had a medal for every finger I’ve re-attached, my chest would be too heavy to walk”, Estelle laughed. “I’d look like a bloody Russian general or something.”

“Or a Japanese Admiral.” Liorga shrugged, her discomfort now fading greatly, “And, to be honest, medals are a little overrated.”

Estelle nodded. “Agreed, but bragging rights can’t hurt either. But I’m not on track for eventually commanding a ship of my own, so I don’t need medals.”

“There are still medical ships.” Liorga reminded her, “So a command isn’t out of the question for you, unless you simply don’t desire something like that.”

Estelle nodded. “Exactly. It would only take me out of the operating room, all I’d get to cut would be red tape.”

“Maybe.” Liorga shrugged, she’d never served on a medical ship so she couldn’t really say for sure how life on them was.

“Seriously, though, can you picture me spending most of my day with files, reports on things that need to be compiled?” Estelle asked. “Any hint of individuality purged from the pages, wit discouraged, humour a term not found by the universal translator and desk jockeys back at the Delta Argonis Medical Network complaining about the tiniest little metaphor a Vulcan reader might be struggling with?”

The idea of Estelle, buried in padds behind a desk, was too much for Liorga to handle, she burst into a peal of laughter the likes of which she didn’t remember having done in her life prior to this, “Oh, yeah, I can practically smell your misery.”

Estelle sniffed her fingers. “No, that’s from the garlic I put in the stew.”

Liorga just shook her bald head and sighed, sometimes Estelle was a little extra.

“Well, please don’t think me a bad host”, Estelle said, “but I would like to get ready for bed. Tomorrow evening I’ll be more awake, and there’ll be targ roast.”

“Sounds good.” Liorga smiled, “I’ll see you then.”