From: "Nora Rivkis"
Date: Sun, 13 Apr 1997 17:55:29 -0400
Subject: Re: USS CHESAPEAKE: Shortcut to hell
NRPG:
Putting this all together, because I don't know what went
to everyone and what to just me. Apologies for anything
you've seen already.
**********************************************************************
MD 5.1956
Scene: Somewhere in the airducts.
"Where could a rabbit possibly go on a ship like this ? How
stupid could I be ?", Oz grumbled. He was tracking the rabbit using a
tricorder that was tuned on the rabbits sweat on its paws. He knew it had
come this way. What he did not know was where he was.
*******************************************************************
MD 5.2033
Scene: Somewhere in the airducts.
"Come to daddy, you stupid rabbit. Oh, there you are -", Oz said,
hurrying after the rabbit. The white animal with the red eyes saw him and
legged it, surprisingly fast, through the nearest airduct. Oz followed,
less speedy.
*********************************************************************
MD 5.2103
He had it ! He had it trapped ! Oz advanced towards the little
bunny. It was stuck in the middle of the airduct. A large hole indicated
another airduct going straight down, but it was some way, and the bunny
obviously didn't want to go that way. And the hole was far too wide to
allow jumping across for an animal of its size.
Oz advanced. Slowly. Slowly. He was close, closer, he grabbed
the animal - and the animal decided to jump. Oz tried to grab it, but all
he managed to do was to lose his balance and follow it on its fall down.
There was only one thing to do.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH !!!!!!!!!!!". Oh,
and of course the essential: Closing ones eyes.
The tube began to slope and Oz was bounced around a bit before smashing
into some sort of wire grating. Or rather, smashing through it. He was
aware of noise, of light, and of water. Then he hit something soft and
toppled it over.
There was a moment silence. It felt good. Whatever he had landed
on, it felt nice, and soft, just like - like - no, it couldn't be ! He
opened his eyes. Yes, it was. His face was buried in a womans bosom.
"I must have died and gone to heaven.", he remarked to no-body in
particular, even though he was not a Christian. Then he noticed the face
of the woman he had fallen on. "Don't tell me this is The Other Place ?",
he said, getting up. Considering the snarl his cushion displayed, perhaps
a quick escape was advised.
He looked around. He was surrounded by a lot of naked women in a
shower room.
That was good. They don't looked very happy. That was bad. And one of
them was holding a knife. That was a crisis. He wondered for a moment
where a naked woman could get a knife from, then decided he didn't really
want to know.
Galia fought the terror that her rational mind called stupid and
all her training called cowardice. It was one unarmed man; some
idiot who'd pressed his luck spying and been caught. Half of her
wanted to castrate him on the spot; half wanted to curl up and
scream.
Andersen had been one unarmed man. He had liked it when she
curled up and screamed. Galia's hand tightened on the knife, but
one of T'sharet's women was already handling the situation.
Before he could say anything to defuse the situation, or before he
could spot an exit, a naked arm had slung itself around Oz's neck, and was
unpleasantly squeezing. Despite being pressed against a naked womans body
he found it little pleasant. Perhaps the fact that he was having trouble
breathing might have had something to do with it.
"Been perving around a bit, haven't we ?", a harsh voice hissed
into his left ear.
"No, I've - gasp been looking -gasp for a bunny.", he gasped.
*A what?* Galia had never heard that particular term for what he'd
been doing before.
"Bunny ?", a quiet, slightly tearful voice said, and the woman
with the knife stepped forward. She looked at the knife as if she didn't
know where it came from, and she looked at him in a way - he frowned. He
was no expert on body language, but somehow her face reminded him of
something. If only he knew what... Then it hit him. Her eyes were full
of fear. That was new. People had looked at him with contempt, anger,
hatred, pity or amusement, but never, ever, with fear. And he knew what
fear could do. It could make people dangerous. This woman looked as if
she knew how to handle a knife. They all did, in fact.
"I didn't mean it the way it sounded.", Oz said quickly. "I lost
a lab rabbit, and - look, there it is !"
Lab rabbit? What would a lab rabbit be doing down here?
And Galia nearly broke down in tears, as chaos erupted
around her all at once and she realized instantly that the
officer had simply been saying the most outrageous thing
he could think of and she'd fallen for it. At home they would
have had her next four home leaves for that kind of mistake.
In battle, it would mean her life, if she were lucky. If not, the
lives of a few of her men.
Everybody looked, including the woman holding him. She relaxed her grip
slightly, and he used that moment to twist out of her grip and bolt
towards the door. The women reacted, faster than he had thought, but not
fast enough. He managed to dodge the hands that tried to stop him and
threw himself through the open door of the showerroom. He collided with a
naked female Vulcan who was just ready to go into the shower. She barely
budged, while Oz soared backwards and ended up on the floor, water raining
from the shower and the women closing in.
Galia had seen enough. T'sharet could hold him far better than
she could, who was shaking, and covering herself with her arms
so he would not see the scars on her breasts that were long since
gone anyway through reconstructive skin grafts. She ducked back
into the main barracks, grabbed her com pin, and called, "David!!
Trouble in women's quarters. Under control. Give us ten minutes,
then get in here."
"Oh my. I just hope I won't have nightmares.", Oz told the women.
"This could be really damaging to my psyche, you know.
Look, stop ! Oh. Help. Heeelp.
HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEElLLLLLLPPPP!!!"
T'sharet looked on impassively, unconcerned with her own nakedness,
while four of the women expertly tied Oz to a doorknob, ankles bound
tightly enough to hurt, wrists yanked behind him in a position that would
easily dislocate something if he were stupid enough to try to move. "You
heard Lt. Halivni," she said calmly to the women. "Szabo, Teyk'hal,
Andress, Osaku, watch him; Li'av, Fiannic, get their phasers for them.
The rest of you, get dressed. First four to be finished, change places with
his guards. Full uniforms and fully armed, all of you; the Lieutenant is
coming."
Oz wasn't going anywhere for the moment. It hurt enough just
staying still. Maybe the Marine commander would be more under-
standing than his troops.
Maybe not. The women scurried to obey -- all except for the four
with phasers trained on him and eyes glittering with hatred and a
mystifying sort of... he didn't know what. Resignation? Bitterness?
Not quite. As though they had once had a question, and saw in him
the answer they'd expected all along.
The dark woman with the knife and the frightened eyes was
first dressed, and calmer when she was. She took the phaser with
a few words in a language Oz didn't know, from one of the two humans
among his guards. Alone among the women, except for the Vulcan
who had issued orders -- and flung him across the room -- she did
not look at him with hatred now. Only a strange fire so fierce it took
Oz a minute to identify it as pride, and realize it was all that was
keeping her stable.
Well, she was the one holding the phaser. On the whole, Oz
preferred her stable.
By the time the door chime rang, all the women were in uniform.
Oz looked nearly as disreputable as they all thought him, sopping
wet and tied to the door of the shower room. The Vulcan called,
"Enter," just as the door slid open anyway. The man who strode
in was better armed than the women and seemed tense enough
to use any of it on a hairtrigger. Oz breathed very quietly.
A marine. No, make that A Marine !!! What the hell did one of
those uniformed excuses for an ape on board of the CHESAPEAKE ? Not that
Oz dared ask. He knew marines. Well, soldiers in general. You didn't
talk to them, you didn't look at them, and you stayed away from them as
far as possible. You never knew when they might decide to juggle hand
granades. Or your balls.
"Galia, T'sharet; what's the trouble?" David's eyes flickered to the
man tied to the door, but his attention stayed on his lieutenants.
Galia tried to get her voice working and failed. Smoothly, so smoothly
that it took close attention to notice the protectiveness behind her
Vulcan calm, T'sharet took over for her. "This man fell out of the
airshaft into the shower room, sir. At an inopportune moment. We
had little choice but to assume he had chosen the moment and the
location deliberately, and act accordingly."
Oz started to protest, "I was just chasing a lab rabbit..." but the MCO
threw him a look that made Oz feel lucky the man hadn't killed him yet.
"Shut up. I didn't ask you."
Oz shut up. It was the sensible thing to do. A greater man would
have dared to defend himself, but Oz knew better than to anger somebody
who made a living from killing people. You only did that if you had a death
wish, or were out of reach. Neither applied to him.
David turned to Galia, murmured in Hebrew, "Are you all right?" The
woman gulped, nodded a little. Two of the other women came near,
hesitantly, and touched her shoulders as though they were touching
a wound.
Curioser and curioser. This was strange behaviour for marines.
And why did he aske HER whether she was alright ? She had been the one
with the knife. And the fear in her eyes. Just WHAT was going on here ?
And, did he really want to know ? Actually - no. Right now all he wanted
was to be gone. Away from here.
Leaving her to them, David asked T'sharet, "Anyone hurt?"
*Yes. Me.*, Oz thought. *How about taking those restraints off,
you big nicompoop ? Oh, damn, I hope he isn't a mindreader.*
"No. Not even the intruder. My troops behaved with great restraint, sir."
As if. Oz nearly snorted, but caution and a healthy dose of
self-preservation stopped him. No need to attract attention.
"I can tell. He's still got his balls attached. It's more restraint than
I would have used." David gave T'sharet a faint grin along with the
words, knowing she wouldn't respond; then turned to the intruder.
The man walked over slowly, until he stood close, very close, to
Oz. All the redhead could see were those big boots, with steelcaps. And
they were clean and polished enough to use them as a mirror.
"Identify yourself." he barked.
This caused Oz to burst into tears. Sobbing he pleaded for mercy,
his life and his health.
"Shut up and identify youself," David repeated, disguested by
the intruders cowardice.
"Ens. Ozwald O'Graeach.", Oz sniffed, the flow of tears stopping
slowly. "I'm the FCO here. If I'm still on the CHESAPEAKE."
"ID number ?"
"'xuse me ?", Oz asked surprised.
"Your Personal Service ID number, man!" David was losing patience
fast.
Oz blinked. His eyes were dry now, apart from the water that was
still running into his eyes from his hair. "How the hell should I know?",
he blurted out confused. Realizing he was antagonizing a man close to
homicide, he tried a softer tone. "Why, should I know it ?"
"You bloody well should, if you are who you claim to be,"
David pointed out. He didn't really think there was more to this
idiot than there looked; real invaders were seldom this stupid. But
*this*... to these women, of all people...
"Look, if you untie me I'll go and learn it right away.", Oz
suggested, resulting in a snort from the MCO.
"Well, how about taking my feet off that doorknob, then ?", Oz
asked. "I really hate dangling like this, you know. My neck hurts. And
my legs, and back, and arms."
"Don't push your luck."
Oz's mouth snapped shut. He had to be careful. Here he
was, caught, tied, and likely to be quartered. Somehow he was having a
feeling of deja vu. And he had never liked deja vu. He went back into
cry-mode.
" Please don't hurt me, pleeeeeaaaaase !", he sniffed, tears
not so much running down his face but rather spurting. "I didn't mean any
harm, only, I lost this rabbit, an'...an' I promised I'd get it back, and
then I was lost, an' when I found it I fell, and I was so scared an' -
sniff - an' - sob..."
David tapped his combadge. "1LT Shacher to CMDR. Brennan. We
have a situation here that requires your presence. Please meet me in the
women's Marine barracks."
Oz groaned silently.. That was asking for trouble, gettting the
FO here. Still, it was better than being left alone with a bunch of
maniacs.
David looked the intruder over a last time. He let the disgust show on
his face; it kept hidden the sorrow and the rage that threatened to blind
him. Why, of all possible places, did this ass have to come and do his
peeping here, where he would not only anger and distress the women
but reopen traumatic wounds he still had no idea how to teach them to
heal? He looked at Galia. So proud; tearless, dark eyes snapping with
professional alertness, standing at attention -- but she was trembling.
"Galia, go on. 24 hours' leave, MacStiofan can handle your platoon for
a day. Get drunk or something. There's no reason you need to stay for
this.
"I should --" T'sharet cut her off. "I am in command of this platoon," she
said with dignity that belied the compassion behind her words. "Yours
was unaffected. I shall conduct the case before the Executive Officer,
with Lieutenant Shachor's assistance."
Galia nodded uncertainly. She knew exactly what T'sharet was doing --
but knew equally well that the other platoon leader would not hesitate
to accuse her of stepping on T'sharet's command if it were the only way
to get her to take the time off. And getting drunk sounded like a blessed
idea. She left, without looking back at the intruder.
David watched her go, affection and terrible worry written all over
his face. Then, as soon as she was out of sight, it stilled. Turning
back to the still-tied intruder, he pulled a vicious-looking knife from
his boot and cut the wrist ropes. "Don't even try to move," he warned
quietly. " 'Dessa and Sylv still have phasers on you." He moved on to
the ankles.
Before the XO arrived, O'Greach was ordered gruffly to take a seat on
a nearby cot, and to wring himself out of the rest of the dripping before
he sat down. The woman whose cot it was did not look happy about
it, and David glanced at her in brief apology before returning his stare
to the man who'd wrecked his carefully-begun foundations for the res-
toration, in his frightened company, of trust in Starfleet. They waited.
NRPG: Brennan, your turn. :)
Respectfully Submitted,
Ensign Oz O'Greach 1LT David Shachor
FCO, USS Chesapeake MCO, USS Chesapeake
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