PNPC Ensign Poagie- Lyin' Low 'til the Heat Dies Down

[rob mahardy]

((Tertiary Maintenance Support Center, Deck 17, USS Ronin, very shortly after the power outage))

((OOC: Insert Standard Character Opinion Disclaimer. Love ya Lucas.))

Of course Crewman Brat had given him an odd look when Poagie explained that he needed sodium hypochlorite dilution level samples from the bleach used by the mop-bots, but the Tellerate quickly shrugged his shoulders and left to continue his own work. As he’d discovered over the years, there was no better place to lie low than the tertiary maintenance support center. He locked the door and pulled up the mindless game, Dividend Derby, on his padd and let the tension flow out of his lobes. 

His thumbs flew across the touchscreen.

oO Liquidate the liability, liquidate, liquidate, liquidate…Ahh, dung. Foreclosure Freddy. Oo

The game made a "wah..wah..waaah" sound effect.

After a good hour had passed, Poagie figured he’d dodged a primitive metal projectile sphere. His comm badge was silent and security hadn’t come to drag him off. In fact, the only message he’d received was from Doctor Beck, and that wasn’t atypical from what the mustached medic* always sent him. Still Poagie didn’t understand why the man always projected his own insecurities onto him. Maybe their new counselor will straighten him around or even better their new doctor will bump him out like Beck himself did to Kel. 

oO Ugh, no. Oo

What if Beck then ended up leading the science department?

oO Well, great,  that’s gonna give me nightmares. Oo

He literally shook the thought out of his head.

Poagie’d previously set his padd aside and was now fidgeting with one of the artificial diamonds, rolling it around in his fingers. 

He stopped and stared into its sparkling facets for several seconds, remembering how many he still had to make…and the consequences if he didn’t deliver on time.

He gulped. Rumor had it the Pakleds were masters of mind-numbing video torture.

He gulped again.

He couldn’t wait. Now that the heat seemingly died down, it was time to get back to work. 

oOThese diamonds aren’t going to make themselves. Oo

As he left to return back to the lab, he was pretty confident that everything would work correctly this time.

oO Probably. Oo

TBC

((OOC:

* “The Mustached Medic” is now a registered trademark of Ronin Productions. Somebody buy Lucas a cape.))

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Ensign Poagie

Science Officer

Simmed by

Lieutenant Commander Ian O’Connor

HCO

USS Ronin NCC-34523

R240009IO4