From: Live Long and Prosper
Date: Mon, 14 Apr 1997 10:28:41 -0500 (EST)
Subject: USS CHESAPEAKE: Dreamscape
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My apologies for sending this out twice. :(
Jari: It was an accident!!!
Masako
SD 40414.1505
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Murray's Quarters
-----------------
Time: Unknown
The alarms were ringing rather insistently, Anne noticed. For
what, she did not know; they just rang at you, the alarms. They never
*said* anything. What it was all about, what you were supposed to do,
anything at all. They just annoyed you to death by their insistent
*ringing*. She rubbed her eyes, deciding that it was her alarm clock.
She reached out to turn it off...
...and promptly fell out of bed.
Oh, dear. *Not* a good way to start the day.
She freshened up, dressing herself in the disgusting uniform that
they forced one to wear in the Service. It was a rather horrid shade of
light blue, rather the color of glittering turquoises. It was very
tight-fitting; were it transparent, no one would have bothered wearing
uniforms in the first place. The skirt was almost obscenely short, its
hem barely reaching the top of her thighs. She reached into the dresser
drawer and drew out a thin knife. Yes... today, she would do it, she
decided. Falling out of bed is not a good way to start the day... and
she would redeem herself by doing something spectacular.
She would assassinate the Captain.
***** ***** *****
Time: Two hours later
After a couple of hours studying the various methods of slow
execution, Anne decided that it was time to focus on something more
feasible. After all, she did tend to be rather queasy... it wouldn't be
any fun if the Captain were to make a big *scene* about being killed.
She'll just do it very quickly, after all.
Satisfied that she had finally reached an important decision, she
stepped out into the corridor. She passed by the Chief Security Officer,
an Ensign named Keyrin... more often referred to as "The Butcher." The
CSO merely scowled at her as they passed, and Anne was rather relieved.
To catch "The Butcher's" attention for anything over a nanosecond usually
meant bad news.
Arriving at the Officer's Mess, Anne saw that the sole occupant
was the Counselor, one Stavay Tats-Marush. A rather handsome man, but a
quiet one. Anne was mildly amused by him; he seemed like such a shy
person to be a Counselor. She took a seat a few tables down from where
he sat and watched as "The Butcher" entered the Officer's Mess.
"How's it going, doc?" Keyrin asked playfully, sitting down
next to him.
"I'm fine, Miss Keyrin," replied the Counselor in soft tenor
tones, "and I'm not a doctor."
Anne wondered what was going to happen next. Over the last
two months, the two had pirouetted across the ship in a dance that everyone
expected to end with one of the two dead. Of course, everyone feared
the Counseling/Corrections officer in his dark sunglasses which he
never removed. Everyone feared a trip to the Counselor's office, since
the drugs Tats-Marush injected might change you into little more that a
vegetable (remember O'Graeth, Anne thought).
As for Keyrin, Keyrin didn't believe in joy through chemistry.
Joy through the *agonizer*, more likely. And the pain baton. Right now,
thought Anne, each of them circled each other, Keyrin loud and obnoxious,
Tats-Marush soft and quiet. Each hoping to use the tools of the trade
on the other, someday. Each waiting for the perfect excuse.
"Well, now, isn't that nice." Aelyria gobbled a cupcake in three
seconds flat. "Tats-Meister, I always thought you were too *interesting*
to be a doctor, you know?"
"Really, Miss Keyrin?" murmured Tats-Marush, moving away from her.
"Well, what do *you* think, Counselor?" asked Aelyria. She
demolished another cupcake. "I mean, what do you *feel* about not being
a doctor? Or, more to the point, how do you feel about being a Counselor
on this ship?"
"Well... uh..." Tats-Marush stared at Aelyria carefully. "I really
must be going," he said suddenly. "I'm expecting clients any minute."
The COUNS/COR, it appeared, did *not* expect to be examined about his feelings.
It looks like Aelyria found a new tactic.
"Oh... well, we'll have this discussion some other time, then,"
said Aelyria easily. She finished her third cupcake and headed out the
door, tossing the crumpled wrappers into the recycler as she did so.
Anne stood up and decided that it was time for her to report
to her department as well.
Her sidekicks, Jonny D. and Rickie F., were working in their
office, which they shared (for some odd reason). They snapped to as soon
as she set foot in the corridor.
"Morning, Sir!" they chorused.
"At ease, gentlemen," said Anne, gliding into her office. She
typed up some orders for Jonny D. to execute. He was a good solid man
most of the time, but he did need explicit orders. After that, she made
up a report for Rickie F. to proofread. Rickie really wasn't good for
anything other than picking up the linguistic and grammatical errors of
his superiors. Well... even the lowliest amoeba have their uses.
***** ***** *****
Time: One hour later
Ah... finally, it was time to get up on the Bridge. Anne made
sure that both of her sidekicks were busy at work before sneaking out of
her office.
Not that she actually *had* to sneak, of course; it was standard
procedure for the Chief Science Officer to be on the Bridge. Still...
just in case, it was good not to arouse too many suspicions.
Once on the Bridge, she spotted Lieutenant Commander Ledoux, the
CMO, standing in front of the Ready Room door. She wore her usual scowl,
and she somehow managed to tower over Anne, though she was four full
inches shorter than the Science Officer.
"'Morning," said Anne, harumphing a bit. "How are you?"
"How I am," replied the Doctor, "is none of your business." She
leaned against the Ready Room door, for all the world behaving as though
she'd stay there all day... and all night, too. She perked up, however,
as soon as a young Ensign came out of the turbolift.
"Ensign Dennis!" she called, her luxuriously loud voice
filling the Bridge. "Come over here and let the Doctor take a look at
you!" She batted her eyelashes shamelessly, showing off her perfect
figure at the rather red-faced young man. Noting his hesitation, the
doctor beckoned to him, crooking her beautifully shaped index finger, with
its outrageously long, deep red fingernail, in a "come hither" gesture.
The Ensign approached obediently, not daring to oppose the CMO.
Dr. L. was quite a sugar plum if one happened to do as she said... but
if she were crossed, she became a Menace to be feared.
"So, Mr. Dennis," said the Doctor, "tell me *all* about yourself."
She leaned close to him, still batting her eyelashes. Anne began to feel
just a bit queasy about all the goings-on and beat a hasty retreat to
the science station.
***** ***** *****
Time: Three hours later
The wait had been long, but it was well worth it. Ledoux and
the hapless Ensign Dennis had gone out to lunch somewhere, the rest
of the Bridge complement had conveniently decided to disappear, and
the Ready Room door was invitingly free of guards. Anne approached it
cautiously but quickly. With a practiced leap, she entered the Ready
Room without warning, jumped behind the Captain's chair, and
drove the knife deeply into the back of the officer's neck. There
wasn't even a whimper; the Captain was dead before Anne could say
"heads up!"
She didn't have to wait long before Brennan and the security
guards were swarming around her in the Ready Room. She didn't care; the
Captain was dead, and that's all that mattered.
"'Ey, luv, pretty smashing job you did 'ere," approved Brennan,
leering at her. His eyes took in the curves of her figure most
appreciatively. "Mm, not 'arf bad looking, either," he added.
At that moment, the CMO made her appearance.
"Hey, Danny-boy," she said, her eyelashes batting again. She
slinked over to Brennan and planted a giant juicy kiss on his lips.
"You are the most *swinging* thing I have seen since Melissa Fielding
won the Women's Gymnastics Uneven Bars event in the 2392 Olympics."
"An' you are, too," allowed Brennan, returning the kiss
with gusto. "But now," he said, "I got bigger fish to fry." He
leaned over and looked at his former Captain. "The one who's got
this one killed is going to be my pick," he pronounced. "And
good riddance to you," he said, looking contemptuously at the
sagging form in the chair. Anne followed his gaze.
Yes... good riddance, Captain Kevin Mallory.
Brennan turned his attention back to the Science Officer.
"So... Anne, was it?" he breathed. "Why don't we make
something *special* happen?" He sidled up to her and gave her
a passionate kiss.
**** ***** *****
MD 4.1100
Anne woke up screaming. She could still feel those lips
against hers, the strong arms surrounding her. Her breathing
was too rapid, she was sweating, and she had a tremendous headache.
Anne rubbed her eyes, raising her aching head slowly. Where
*was* she, anyway? Where was the hormone-crazed beast who had been
forcing himself on her? Where was the tyrant whom she had finally
murdered? The seductive woman with her batting eyelashes?
She took a deep breath. No. It couldn't have been real.
Mallory... Mallory was *not* a Captain. He was a Counselor. How
could she have killed...
Anne groaned. She didn't need this right now. She tried
to reorient herself.
A computer terminal stared back at her. PADDs lay in front of
it, scattered like so many pieces of confetti. She slowly slid her eyes
to the right. Her psychometric boxes, the Dennis-Schuster Series kits,
lay open, its contents piled neatly inside. She had shown them to Ensign
Keyrin just that morning.
She shook her head, but stopped when the throbbing pain came back.
Perhaps she should go get some medication from sickbay...
Sickbay. She suddenly remembered the conversations of -- what
was it? -- two days ago... Catherine, the musical, Rich Wilson...
*Catherine*. Anne sat up suddenly, biting her lip to keep from screaming
in pain as hot flashes snapped up her head. Catherine Ledoux! *She*
would not flirt shamelessly with men, the way the horrid CMO in her...
whatever experience she just had was. And *she* wouldn't treat Anne
as though she were dirt, would she? They were friends, weren't they?
Anne hoped so.
On a sudden impulse, she went to her sleeping area and looked on
the night table. No alarm clock.
Well, of course not. She had never needed an alarm clock
in her life.
She stepped back into the living area.
She looked at the replicator in the corner of the room, and her
eyes adjusted to the lighting. There were scribbled notes on the
machine; one of them was a new one, just added recently. "Go see
Counselor Tats-Marush," it said.
Counselor Tats-Marush? Oh, yes, of course... the Shrevashal
woman. The one who liked to play that infernal game, golf. Anne barely
kept herself from shaking her head again. A *woman*, she realized,
not a *man*, as she had seen only moments earlier. This Counselor
Tats-Marush was a *woman*.
She began to realize that she had just experienced a Very Strange
Dream. She would have to think about this for a bit. As she leaned back
in her chair, she hoped that her department wouldn't be needing her any
time in the near future.
Respectfully submitted,
Masako Goto
Lt. Anne Murray, Ph.D.
CSciO
USS CHESAPEAKE NCC-31813
With encouragement, ideas, and excellent writing and suggestions from:
Takako Nagumo
Lt.Cmdr. D. J. Brennan aka Lt.Cmdr. "Danny-Boy" Brennan
XO Former XO, now CO
USS CHESAPEAKE NCC-31813 ISS CHESAPEAKE
Chris Fontaine
Lt.Cmdr. Catherine Ledoux, DVM aka Lt.Cmdr. "Dr. L." Ledoux, DVM
CMO CMO
USS CHESAPEAKE NCC-31813 ISS CHESAPEAKE
James Bowman
Lt(jg) Stavay Tats-Marush aka Lt(jg) "Tats-Meister" Tats-Marush
CNS CNS/COR
USS CHESAPEAKE NCC-31813 ISS CHESAPEAKE
Lynnaea AelCaymarth
Ens. Aelyria Keyrin aka Ens. "The Butcher" Keyrin
CSO CSO
USS CHESAPEAKE NCC-31813 ISS CHESAPEAKE
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Well... what can I say? This post was definitely a group project, and
I'd like to personally thank Lynnaea, James, Chris, and Takako for
permission to use their characters in such fashion. In case you didn't
catch this in the post itself:
This was a DREAM! :)
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