From: 96906700afk@nene.ac.uk Date: Fri, 25 Apr 1997 00:23:50 +0000 (GMT) Subject: USS CHESAPEAKE: Twilight shift
MD 5.2358 Scene: Bridge There was something enjoyable about this time of day, Oz thought. To start with, everybody else was asleep, and only those people on the bridge were awake. It was peaceful. Quiet. It gave him time to check up on a few things. Such as the inner system, including meteorites and stuff. 'In case you have to pilot something smaller than a spaceship.' The system was pretty straightforward. Seven lumps of rock, perfectly boring and revolting, but rich in minerals. Rich in mined asteroids. The big rocks were drifting through space, sometimes boarded by miners and holed out. A few were several miles in diameter, and criss-crossed by hundreds of tunnels and shafts. The planets were all covered by canyons and mineshafts. Theoretically they should be just openings, but he knew miners. Show them a layer of ore and they'd forget contracts, treaties, and dig first, secretly. He checked his PADD for any important messages. Nothing important. A message from the doctor, for a physical. He hit the delete button. There was no way he was going to see a quack. Okay, so perhaps the medical profession had improved, but ever since the aliens had abducted him when he was seven he'd had a medico-phobia. Especially needles, sharp instruments, and shiny metal objects. The counselor wanted to see him as well. Okay, she was cute, but she was a shrink. Besides, he was perfectly sane, no need to bother her. He hit the delete button. There went another potential date. Just his luck. He tossed the PADD to the side and placed his feet on the console, leaning back comfortably. Life wasn't bad, really. Okay, there had been the rabbit thing, but nobody had tried to kill him, he was still FCO, he was still on board of the CHESAPEAKE, and nobody wanted his head. Or his balls. So perhaps this was the lucky break ? After years of running away, of being chased, was this going to be the big change ? Then again, he had thought that before. Several times, in fact. Usually just before things went bad. Like that time when he had crashed on this green planet. Paradise, really. Everybody had been nice. He could have stayed there for the rest of his life. So why did the bloody Borg have to invade just then ? As if sixty years would have mattered. He had been *happy*. Of course, the invasion had changed that. And when the Borg ship had crashed 129 light years away, it didn't choose a solar system with nice people. No, it had to have a full frontal crash with a moon that belonged to a planet inhabited by professional slavers. That had been a nice surprise when he finally managed to open the door of the escape pod and was sold into slavery. He picked the PADD up again and started working on escape routes. You never knew. Maybe he was paranoid, but that didn't mean that life wasn't out to get him. MD 6.0700.30 Scene: Bridge Ens. Unit was punctual to the second. Thirty seconds after the 'bot had arrived O'Graeach was rushing out. There was such a thing as too much work. Generally, any work belonged in that category. But it kept him safe... Oz hurried back to his room, and his bed. His lovely, soft, clean bed. His eyes were all scratchy from staring at the big screen for too long, but really, you couldn't watch The Magnificent Seven on anything less than the viewscreen of a starship. Shame about the sound, though. He entered his room and felt for the light switch. Not finding it he gave up and stumbled into the shower. Ten minutes later, and several Irish drinking songs, he emerged a cleaner, happier man. Drying himself, he approached the bed, which he could barely see. His. Sleep beckoning, he smiled at the bed, hummed a little song, and covered his face with his towel when someone turned the light on. "Who the f**k are you ?", she said. Blinking, he covered his favourite parts. "O'Graeach. Ozwald O'Graeach. I don't mean to be rude, but shouldn't you be down at the Marine barrack by now ?" She gave him a careful look. "I don't know what you consider rude, but walking naked into a girls room seems to fit the description quite well, wouldn't you say ?" "This is MY room !", Oz protested. "Then what am I doing here ?", she asked. "Oh NO ! You bastard took advantage of me ! I'll break your scrawny neck !" "Nooooo ! Please don't hurt me ! I'm innocent !", Oz screamed. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't strangle you right away!", she fumed. "Eh - it's illegal ?", Oz ventured. "It's a lot harder than it looks in the movies ? It's bad for your karma ? You might break a nail ? I've been working 'till now ? Nothing happened ? You're still dressed ?" "So I am.", she admitted after a moment. "Nothing happened ?" "Nothing." "Then what am I doing here ?" Oz sighted. "You were drunk, and I felt guilty, and I didn't want you to get into more troubles, and because I know how marines can be, so I put you into my bed and went for my shift." "You keep babbling on about marines. Why do you have a fixation on marines ?", she asked. "Well - aren't you one ?" "Hell, no. What made you think that ?" "You DO have a tattoo on your inner thight, don't you ?", he asked. "Do I look like a trollop ? Of course not !", she scoffed. "If you're not a marine - what are you ?", Oz asked. "Clarissa Darling, Security. Combat Pilot." "You're a pilot ?", Oz asked intrigued, ignoring that he was holding his towel with one hand at hip height. "I'm the FCO. How come you're not in my staff ?" "I haven't got a clue. I'm the fecking best pilot you'll ever see. Guess they thought that I couldn't be trusted with a shuttle. Dunno, really. You're really the FCO ?" "Yeah. Why, wanna transfer ?", Oz asked sleepily. "I wouldn't mind. But what I had in my was a challenge. Holodeck 7, at 1400 hours ?" "I don't do challenges. It's too dangerous.", Oz said, looking longingly at his bed. "Why not ? Are you scared ?", she teased him. "Just careful. Guy I knew accepted a challenge. Didn't end well." "He died ?", she asked sympathetic. "Worse. He caused an entire war. Well, it's partly my fault. I shouldn't have told him that this Helena broad was way out of his league. I mean, okay, it was a stupid bet, but I just wanted to see that SOMEONE turned that airheaded buffon down. It turned out she wasn't too bright either. Anyway, ever since I've refused challenges." "Helena ? Sounds like the Trojan War to me.", she laughed. "Troy ?", Oz, said puzzled. "No, it was one of the small islands off the coast of Athens. The one with the black rock shaped like a lion in the harbour. Troy's in Turkey. Never been there. Anyway - I'd like to go to bed now." "Go ahead.", she laughed amused. "I can't. You're in there." "I didn't take you for the shy sort.", she teased him. "I just don't want to end up with your fist in my face.", Oz explained. "And why would I do that ?" "You know, I never bothered to ask.", he said, climbing into his nice, soft, warm bed, falling asleep instantly. "Hmph ! Nice to know I can still pull'em.", Clarissa said sarcastically. "He doesn't take advantage of me when I'm drunk, he falls asleep ignoring me - do I smell or what ?" NRPG: Just a short post, tying up a few knots (very few), leading up to an encounter with the CSO. I had an exam today, another on monday, so I'll be a tiny bit busy in the near future :) Love, Fabian ------------------------------------------------------------------------ 'Red is frequently associated with passion because it is the color of fire. Those who take this seriously need to be reminded that there is such a thing as arson.' 'The universe is a big place. Perhaps the biggest.' --------------------------------------------------------------------------
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