Lt. Commander Erin Reynolds - No Toolkits for the Tellarite
Quinn Reynolds
((The Brew Continuum, USS Gorkon))
The tart, sweet scent of the Bajoran iced tea tickled Erin’s nose as she sipped from her glass, in between chatting to Tzim-Shah about why people like them couldn’t stay away from Starfleet. There was probably some research somewhere about the traits or inclinations which not only brought people to Starfleet, but kept them there. People like Genkos, who clearly struggled with the aftermath of everything they’d experienced, had all the skills he needed to thrive outside the fleet... and yet there he was, still in the uniform.
Her hazel eyes flicked toward the entrance to the cafe, and the gaggle of ensigns and fourth-year cadets heading inside. She could only catch snippets of their ebullient chatter; apparently, they were marking the end of their tours of duty with an impromptu party of coffee and cake. She smiled, and Shah smiled too, though he did his best to hide it behind a shake of the head and a curmudgeonly grunt. One had to keep up appearances, after all.
E. Reynolds: You said your family are engineers? Working in the shipyard never appealed to you?
Tzim-Shah: ::With pantomimed shock,:: Oh, but I work in a shipyard! A handful of years, mostly kicking arses of drunken, rowdy engineers. Isn't it where we met?
E. Reynolds: I may occasionally be drunken, but rowdy? ::She held up a skinny finger and clicked her tongue in mock disapproval.:: That’s a step too far, Shah.
He answered with a laugh, and an arm held up as if to ward off an incoming thump. She smiled back, taking another sip of her tea. Briefly, she wondered if Cory—with his proclivity for iced tea—would enjoy the drink. Perhaps not. As far as she’d seen, he had his favourites from the region of Earth where he was born and stuck with them. Each to their own; there were certainly some dishes of the galaxy she had absolutely no interest in sampling.
Tzim-Shah: OK, OK, honestly. I honestly don't know, it wasn't for me. Too many numbers, too many things that can go wrong if you screw something up. ::He hesitated for a second and composed a particularly porcine grimace.:: And too many expectations. It seemed like I had no choice but to go into the family business, so I didn't.
E. Reynolds: I’m guessing that didn’t go down too well?
Tzim-Shah: No, actually no one was particularly thrilled about that one, even my father only really quit bawling at me when I enrolled in the academy. I guess it was only then that he found out that I wasn't as dunce as he suspected. ::He raised his hand to the level of his nose.:: Just a bit less. ::His tone shifted to something more playful.:: What do you think, do you see me in your department when the Bosswoman kicks me out of Security?
The weight of family expectations. It was something she knew a little about, though from the sounds of it, not to the extent Shad had experienced. She wondered what his family would see if they looked at him now; the bravery which came from breaking free of expectations? The determination which saw him strive to get back to duty despite his life-changing injuries? She hoped they’d be proud of their cantankerous explorer.
E. Reynolds: If I can make an amateur botanist out of you, I don’t see why I couldn’t make you an engineer. ::She shot him a sly grin.:: Set you loose on the warp core, what could go wrong?
Tzim-Shah: Response
E. Reynolds: History is written by the victors. ::She dipped her head, briefly closing her eyes, as if delivering sage wisdom and not engaging in verbal mischief.:: Or at least the people with the foresight to prep an escape shuttle.
Tzim-Shah: Response
Another bout of laughter rippled out from the group of ensigns and cadets. It looked as though one of their number had tried something they found unpalatable; nose wrinkled, lips pursed, eyes watering, all the while laughing through their grimace. Had she ever been that young? The answer was yes, of course, but the Dominion conquest of the Federation had overshadowed her time at the Academy. Ships built back then hadn’t come with coffee shops—they’d stopped putting in many of the facilities people took for granted now, like holodecks, replicators in every set of quarters, and umpteen flavours of laboratories. No time for science when you were trying to stop the fall of Vulcan.
Her gaze wandered back to Shah. The camaraderie between the young persons oddly reminded her of how lonely the Tellarite had seemed when he first walked in her lab that afternoon.
E. Reynolds: Do you keep in touch with your Academy classmates?
Tzim-Shah: Response