JP: Ensign Alyndra Syrex & Ensign T’Fearne (Cameo Dr Beck as EMB)— GTF: Grand Theft Furniture [Part 2]
alyndrasyrex
(( OOC: This is a JP sim that takes place after the epilogue of Act 3 and before leaving DS33. With the Ronin barely pressurised, the crew managing casualties with limited resources before they make their way to DS9 ))
((Timeskip to 15 mins later, CMO Office, Sickbay, Deck 10, USS Ronin))
Dragging the scavenged medical tunic over her head to replace the ruined uniform, T’Fearne tried not to complain at the pale, waffle-textured fabric. Navigating the fabric to avoid the worst of her healing burns and derma-wrapped shoulder, she continued her conversation with Syrex.
T’Fearne: How did you realize it was still alive? And what could the Lattice want with one? They couldn’t possibly be trying to join with them. :: Pausing to stumble into the matching pants:: The closest thing I have to training in biology was BIO101 at the academy, but I am a hybrid. How would that even work with a silicon-based lifeform?
Syrex: They’d found some way to interpret the electrical signals symbionts give out to communicate into language they could understand. From what we know, the Salix symbiont belonged to a lab assistant of Sencha Niac, so they probably knew as much about Sencha radiation as Sencha herself. Through torture they gained it’s knowledge and weaponised the technology. I can’t imagine a worse fate. Luckily for us, the structure seemed long abandoned.
T’Fearne: Fascinating! I thought they had a way to communicate with each other that was faster than speech. On DS33 during the incursion, there were moments during battle when I noticed the Tholian, in particular, acted in unison, one would fall, and another would immediately take its place to continue their objectives. I am frankly surprised we managed to hold them off.
As they discussed the recent mission, the ensigns looked down at the ruins of the acting CMO’s once plush sofa, now stained and ruined beyond belief.
Syrex: You know what? I really hope Quentin didn’t have any emotional attachment to this sofa.
T’Fearne: It will be okay. I am sure your CO won’t mind. It wasn’t even your fault. I’m the one who decided to lie down.
Syrex: No, I’m the one who said you should come and chill in here, it’s my fault just as much as it is yours. We may just have to own up to this.
T’Fearne: What alternative is there?
Syrex::: Smiles deviously:: We could always claim it as our own?
T’Fearne: Won’t Doctor Beck notice the missing furniture? :: pausing to breathe through mouth:: and the smell! Unless it smelled like this before?
The Vulcazoid glanced hopefully at the Trill Doctor.
Syrex: It’s never smelt great in here, it kinda traps all the weird smells throughout Sickbay, most people in here have gotten used to it though. It probably smells more sensitive to you as a half-Vulcan though. We could use the holographic emitters here to create a holographic sofa? My brother is an engineer, he taught me a little about this kind of thing when we were young.
T’Fearne: That is an ingenious, if temporary solution, Syrex. But can you even program that?
Syrex: There’s one way to find out I guess…
Alyndra sat down behind Beck’s desk, tapping away on the console. For a moment, she forgot about anything else in the room, she was in the zone, not just from the programming, but for a split second, she was back home on Trill.
Syrex: Inputting parameters… Foamed material, integer stitch-count calibration, aligning holo-emitters, masking energy signature and…
As Alyndra’s hands danced majestically over the console an almost identical replica of the once pristine sofa began to materialise in the office. For a combination of photons and magnetic fields, it looked like it had mass, Alyndra just hoped it would fool everyone long enough for them to replace the sofa.
T’Fearne::: finger to her chin:: It looks a shade too brown, try increasing the blue spectrum value slightly.
Syrex: Compensating… Err, Uh oh.
T’Fearne: What is it?
As a beep came from the console, a humanoid figure appeared in the room.
EMB: Please state the nature of the medical emergency.
The sudden appearance and speech were too much for T’Fearne’s frayed nerves. She promptly threw the closest item in reach, a hypo injector, at the unexpected presence. It passed harmlessly through.
The Emergency Medical Beckogram blinked, turning a little to peer with annoyance at the injector that had thudded on the floor behind him. He turned back to the duo, still looking a little annoyed. When he spoke, he sounded almost exactly like the ship's CMO but… a little snootier, maybe?
EMB: Please don't do that again. The sensation is unpleasant and will mostly just piss me off.
T’Fearne: Apologies. It was a reflex. :: Staring a little:: Did you trip the EMH program, Syrex? oO Disconcerting, like Dr Beck, but a creature without emotions. Oo
Syrex: Oh, sorry, there’s no emergency, oh actually…
His nose wrinkled and his spine stiffened.
EMB: No emergency? Then why in hell–
Alyndra waltzed over to the holographic doctor, taking a long look at his uniform. She then looked over to T’Fearne, eyes bright.
Syrex: What do you think about this shade? I can copy the HEX Code and input it into the sofa’s programme.
T’Fearne: What, the undershirt? It does look close.
He blinked again, looking from Syrex to T'Fearne with mild astonishment before looking down at his uniform.
EMB: Excuse me, are you listening? I said why in the hell–
Syrex: Yeah I thought so.
T’Fearne: Your uniform undershirt. :: absentmindedly explaining to EMB:: it’s a very close match to the sofa. We can match the colour frequency for Syrex’s sofa program.
Raising both hands, he stepped between them and growled.
EMB: What do you mean ‘sofa program’?
T’Fearne blinked like she hadn’t expected the Hologram program to be capable of movement. He did not seem quite real to her, especially close-up.
Syrex: ::Looks at EMB:: Oh, we accidentally damaged Dr Becks sofa, we are attempting to replace it
T'Fearne: Maybe don’t tell it that. It could report back to Doctor Beck.
He looked over at the ruined sofa, his brow creasing in surprised confusion.
EMB: What the hell happened?!?!
Syrex: A Series of unfortunate events, I’ll explain later.
T'Fearne: The Ronin launched a preemptive strike at the Lattice Alliance and got attacked instead, DS33 and many of its crew were ambushed in federation space, there were many casualties and severe damage to the ship. Just focus on that and forget about the sofa.
Syrex: Deactivate EMB
T’Fearne agreed with Alyndra on the colour, but she still had doubts about the course of action. The lengths to which the Trill was going to obfuscate a simple accident worried the Vulcazoid slightly.
As the EMB dematerialised, T’Fearne reached out and gently touched her new roommate…and friend, on the shoulder.
T’Fearne: We don’t have to hide this, you know. It was just an accident. No one will get in trouble. oO and the fact that the sofa was the only pristine piece of furniture on the ship was a complete statistical anomaly. Oo
Syrex: It’s not the trouble I am concerned with… ::Sighs:: Back before I was assigned to our quarters, Beck let me crash in here, I feel I owe it to Dr Beck to fix his sofa. ::Stares at the wreck next to the newly materialised holo-sofa:: Could you please help me take it somewhere I can fix it properly?
The Vulcazoid tried to reach out to sense an empathic aura, to better comprehend the problem, but what she read was complex, almost as though there were two sets of emotions in the room and then her ability shorted out, leaving her with another slight wave of dizziness.
T’Fearne::: Shaking her head clear:: Ok Alyndra, I’ll help you move it.
Syrex: Thanks T’Fearne ::Smiles::
Just as Alyndra was about to lift the sofa out of the room, she realised something, the holo sofa was so clean in Becks wreck of an office, it needed a final touch… She swayed over to the nearest replication inputting a human dish, after her order was complete, a fresh plate containing a mustard-covered pretzel was steaming, Alyndra took the liberty of obtaining a few crumbs, as well as a portion of the mustard, to stain the sofa slightly. Alyndra looked back and smiled at her handiwork, now it matched the rest of the office.
T’Fearne: Wait. I’ve seen him eat the round ones:: twirling a finger:: with the soft white powder. Maybe sprinkle some of that too?
Syrex: Yeah, good idea ::Towards Replicator:: Give me Beck food
The replicator buzzed to life, and after a short moment, many of Dr Becks favourite messy foods were in front of them. Alyndra began to smear some of them onto the new sofa.
Syrex: A sprinkle here, a dab there… What do you think?
T’Fearne::: Inhaling deeply and nodding:: It smells more like a human office now.
Syrex: Agreed, it’s certainly got a musk about it. ::Sniffs:: Ah, ew. Now I know why the early Vulcans needed nasal sprays to deal with humans. How are you holding up?
T’Fearne::: gingerly rolling a shoulder:: I’ll carry with this arm. :: reassuring:: don’t worry, this is not heavy.
Syrex: Right, let’s just get this thing away from here then, I’ll replicate something for the smell when we get home.
Together they awkwardly dragged the ruined monstrosity out of Sickbay. Alyndra, however, wanted to distract them both from the vigorous exercise that was heavy lifting, so she engaged in idle chit-chat.
Syrex: Did I tell you, that in this very sickbay I got attacked by a changeling? It’s either in the brig or has been blown out into space now…
T’Fearne promptly dropped her end of the sofa.
((End of Flashback))
((Ensign Quarters, Compartment 2 - Sector 4 - Deck 8 - USS Ronin))
T’Fearne: If there was one saboteur, there could be more onboard. I hope that security has it in an appropriate containment. :: looking around the room with suspicion:: There could be more, or it could escape.
Syrex: I’m sure it’s fine, I doubt they’d let a changeling loose.
T’Fearne: If they shift into a crewman's identity or even their uniform and get worn onto a ship or carried on as cargo, it could be in the room:: curling her tired form into a standing position:: it could be the sofa you're sitting on Syrex.
Syrex: If it makes you feel better… You can scan this too!
As Alyndra ceased her sentence, she thrust herself onto her bunk, just high enough to grab one of her pillows, which she swiftly catapulted in T’Fearne’s direction.
It whiffed past the Vulcazoid's head but clipped her nose and cheek solidly enough to snap her out of her paranoid thoughts. Realising her tired mind was letting vigilance slip into catastrophizing, T’Fearne allowed herself to feel the humour of the situation. Taking a step back to pick up the pillow and fluffing it into place on the sofa.
Syrex: oO Oh not on the sofa… I have to sleep with that pillow… Oo
Flipping the pillow in her good hand, T’Fearne sent it spinning back towards Alyndra with a bit of force. Hiding a smirk behind the throw.
T’Fearne: Ok, I needed that. I’m turning my mind off duty. I need to eat, shower and then sleep in that order. Do you want to go see if there are any replicators that aren’t damaged on the observation lounge?
Syrex: ::Beginning to smell the sofa:: Yeah, I’d like that.
T’Fearne toed through the debris of their room until she uncovered some of her clothes, swapping the medical scrubs for her workout pants and a soft, worn academy shirt, she was ready for hunting, either replicator food or rations if it came to that.
Alyndra looked down at her clothing, stained and torn, she knew she’d need to replicate another when she got the chance. She didn't have many off-duty outfits yet, having travelled light on her way to the Ronin. She planned to replicate a wardrobe, but looking at the State of the Ronin, she knew she’d have to wait a while. Going for a casual look, she removed her blue jacket, leaving behind her undershirt.
They staggered exhaustedly out into the hallway. As they walked T’Fearne gently hooked her less injured arm through Alyndra’s. Not feeling the need to say anything, just glad her new friend had made it through an incredible adventure.
Alyndra smiled, relieved that their heist was over and that her roommate seemed comfortable lowering her barriers.
As the doors closed behind the exhausted crew and the junior quarters were bathed in silence, the sofa sat, displaced from its accustomed surroundings, its upholstery ruined and one foot missing as it had been dragged through the hallways by rough hands. After a long moment, the sofa didn’t move.
===============================
Ensign Alyndra Syrex
Medical Officer
USS Ronin (NCC-34523)
R240107AS3
&
Ensign T'Fearne
Security Officer
USS Ronin - NCC-34523
R240107T14
&
Cameo by EMB as simmed by
Lieutenant JG Quentin Beck
Acting Chief Medical Officer
USS Ronin NCC-34523
A238810SA0