[USS Vanguard] The Further (Mis)Adventures of Kieran Darkwater
- From: Kieran Darkwater <kierandarkwater@xxxxxxxxxxx>
- To: ncv80221@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Fri, 29 Apr 2005 13:50:17 +0100 (BST)
Lt-Cmdr Kieran Darkwater
A&A Officer
USS Vanguard
On>[snip]Eventually, his verbal attempts to separated them failing, he was
forced to grab a wrist of each them and drag them into his room, away from the
slowly growing crowd of leering crewmen who?d come to watch the action.
?Oh, Kieran?? Sapphire stopped in her tracks, all thoughts of conflict
forgotten as she turned to view the decorations. ?It?s wonderful.?
?Impressive.? T?Vel agreed, her voice still throaty and forced, a far cry from
her typical, admirable efficiency.
?Um? thank you.? Both of them advanced on him, backing him up until he settled
into his chair, fending off hands.
?You?re going to have to choose, you know.? T?Vel told him, and he knew he was
in trouble.[/snip]
?You?re absolutely right.? He nodded, forcing a grim smile as he stood,
slipping nimbly between them. ?I?m leaving, try not to damage anything.?
?Kieran, wait..? ?Oh? stay?? the pair of them whined, but their faces seemed
blank and foreign to him, unreadable and inscrutable.
Long-nailed hands ? which made them Sapphire?s ? grasped at the back of his
uniform, but failed to gain purchase as he opened the door and made good his
escape. He heard the pair struggling behind him, each trying to prevent the
other catching up to him, which gave him the time he needed to lose them.
?Hey there?? someone muttered from a darkened doorway, as he passed. ?Fancy
some fun??
?No.? he offered, after a moment?s consideration, moving on without a second
thought. At the bridge, the doors were sealed to all access, which confused him.
?What do you want!? came Kavan?s curt response when he keyed his communicator.
?I?m looking for the Captain.?
?I?m the Captain now.?
?Are you sure? That doesn?t seem to be in line with the rank structure.?
?I?M THE CAPT?? The sound of a phaser fire indicated that the comm. panel on
the bridge had ceased to function, and without the means to talk to the bridge,
Kieran turned a looked for somewhere else to go.
?Science?? he decided. Exiting the turbolift near the messhall, he was forced
to duck for cover as something was thrown at his head. Rolling neatly to his
feet he sidestepped a second assault and neatly swept the legs out from under
his assailant.
?Damn it, Darkwater, it?s a food-fight?? grunted the prostrate figure of
Highwaij, caked in thrown food as he rolled to his feet. ?A party!? The screams
and calls meant nothing, particularly, and peering in through the doors of the
mess-hall he realised he couldn?t make out anything from the facial expressions.
?They?re fighting?? he muttered, confused, as much to himself as Highwaij.
Turning away, he continued on his way towards science, wondering what had
happened.
Slipping in through the doors to the main science lab he ignored the muffled
grunting coming from the other side of the spectral analysis pallet ? he could
vaguely make out Sapphire Cochrane?s miniscule green ?dress? draped over the
scanning head ? and turned towards the office. The door hissed open revealing
Zena slumped across her desk, face stained and darkened, a number of empty
bowls arrayed across the desk before her.
This wasn?t his department head, not like he knew her. No-one was like he knew
them, everyone was acting strangely?
Slowly crouching into a corner he buried his head within his arms, compressing
himself into a ball and gently tapping his head back against the bulkhead,
soothing himself with the rhythmic beat of the noise, the complete
predictability of the sensation, and the artificial sense of control.
?What?s going on??
?Insufficient data to complete the enquiry.? The computer responded, promptly,
assuming from Zena?s inactivity that the question was directed at it. Kieran
sat up, eyes wide as he realised he had someone ? something ? to talk to that
wasn?t going to be unpredictably confusing.
?Computer, analyse behaviour patterns of the crew at this time, and detail the
proportion that are behaving in an unusual manner.?
?Unusual is not a sufficiently defined term against which to make a
determination.?
?Alright? what portion of the crew currently on duty are at their active
stations.?
?Twelve percent.?
?How many of the off-duty crew are engaged in activity that is not consistent
with their personal schedules.?
?Ninety percent.?
?Oh.? At which point the door opened...
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