Professor Killer, I Presume?

Posted on 20 Oct 2014 @ 11:05pm by Seleya Qellar Ph.D. & Commander Norvi Stace

3,753 words; about a 19 minute read

Mission: Episode 07 - Sojourn
Location: Starbase 84 - Civilian CommHub
Timeline: MD-24: 0900hrs

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By the time she arrived at the civilian communications hub on Starbase 84, Dr. Seleya Qellar had moved well beyond annoyed. The chef at the local Efrosian restaurant had apparently mistook her breakfast order of one soft-poached egg for an egg boiled on the surface of a spectral O-class star; when it arrived at her table it was hard enough that, with one well-placed throw, she probably could have killed the cook with a blow to the head. And when she tossed it in the waste receptacle she actually gave a passing moment's concern to the fact that it might have been hard enough to simply keep falling, passing through deck after deck until it blew a hole through the station's bulkhead.

Already aggravated by having to waste precious replicator credits on a new breakfast at that insufferably open-air replimat, her mood was further worsened by finding out she could not arrange for research space in any of the station's research laboratories without some authorization form from her superior officer or the station's commander. She tried to 'kindly' explain to the young ensign that she didn't have a superior officer, being a civilian scientist under the Office of Science Ops, but that only seemed to have made the sniveling little Tellarite all the more intractable.

So to find out that one had absolutely no privacy in the civilian communications hub was almost the last straw. The fact that the only terminal available was squeezed between an enormously fat Grazerite with, she suspected, a clinical case of halitosis and a Ferengi was simply insult added to injury. Between the pair she looked almost as out of place as she felt, clothed in a stiff red dress with a high Elizabethan collar, draped with the luxurious fur of something that was probably extinct (not that she cared), and topped with a red hat that would have easily been called outrageous if it wasn't so classically beautiful.

"Computer, open a commlink to Lieutenant Norvi Stace aboard the USS Galileo," Seleya said, cutting her eyes to look at the Ferengi. Although he seemed to be well-engaged in whatever business he was conducting - probably swindling someone, she thought - her lips still curled instinctively just from looking at him. If ever there was a more vile, contemptible, repulsive species-

"Connecting."

On the viewscreen, Stace's office chair came into view with its leather, studded rolls almost crisp from non-use. She had requested a new one since her old chair had seemed to slump to one side from her sitting on her legs too often. Or probably slouching. Her posture had always been more relaxed than her grandparents had desired, and no amount of data padds on top of heads mincing about the garden had seemed to rectify it. Suddenly, from beneath the desk, Norvi's voice could be heard shouting, "Just a minute!" as a courageous bash resounded through the room. Peering just into shot, the Trill's red, pulled back hair was half covered by her slender hand. "Ouch!" she muffled as she got to her feet and slumped down into the chair. "Hello?" she searched, the bright lights of the screen now hazing her vision a little. "Lieutenant Stace here. How can I help?"

Seleya tried to hide the look of shock and incredulity on her face. She'd been expecting a man for some reason, so the appearance of a young Trill female was something of a surprise. But more importantly, this was the Chief Science Officer and a joined Trill, fumbling around under her desk like a common engineer? She supposed she should be grateful the woman answered at all - a Romulan CSO would never respond immediately (if at all) to a civilian comm channel - but it still took her a moment to collect herself.

"Uh, yes, my name is Professor Dr. Seleya Qellar," she said, trying to keep her voice audible but low enough that the entire commhub wasn't privy to her conversation. It was hard to tell whether the bulky Grazerite was trying to eavesdrop or if he'd just begun listing to starboard. "I've recently been assigned to the Galileo as a biotechnologist under the Office of Science Operations' civilian scientists program. I'm not sure if you've had an opportunity to review the transfer paperwork..."

"Uh, I haven't, no, I'm afraid," came her honest reply. In truth, the papers had been sat on her desk for almost a week now, but with the docking of the Galileo after their mission, Norvi had tried not to read too far ahead with the bureaucracy of her department before she absolutely had to. She quickly cast her mind back and clutched to something pertaining to what the woman was saying in the periphery of her memory, but then remembered the reason why she didn't pursue the thread. It mentioned a Romulan, a race that, along with the majority of the quadrant, made her eyes subconsciously roll into the back of her head. She felt the judging hostility from the woman through the comm.

"Can you, uh, remind me? Sorry, what was your name again?"

Norvi had, naturally, remembered. But something about trying the patience of a Romulan academic piqued her interest. It wasn't often that she came across an equal brash quality that she both loathed and adored about herself.

The morning had been wearing on Seleya, and there was a crack in her facade: the spike of annoyance was attended by a slight downturn in the left corner of her mouth. No one could be so scattered or forgetful as to have already lost hold of her name, and they both knew that. She stiffened in her seat and leaned forward toward the monitor, suddenly a much more looming and imposing figure. She certainly wasn't about to back down from a challenge.

"My name is Professor Dr. Seleya Qellar. I was assigned to your department five days ago by Lieutenant Commander Alexander Fioraso with the Office of Science Operations. Your department acknowledged the transfer on Stardate 66362.68, so if you're unfamiliar with the particulars perhaps you can forward me to your assistant or another member of the science staff who is. I'm eager to begin my work and up to this point I feel like I've encountered an inordinate number of bureaucratic obstacles preventing me from doing so."

Stace let out a controlled, and as intended, adorable laugh. "Aren't we all victims of red tape these days?"

She held up her out-faced index finger to the screen and crinkled her nose as, with her other hand, she searched around the desk for the padd. She found it, pushed it aside, and then continued to emphatically search.

"There's no one else here, unfortunately," she relayed honestly, looking up to the screen with a cutened wince that displayed the same expression as a child who answered the door when their parents weren't home. "But I do have absolute authority within this department. Are you sure there hasn't been a mistake? The Gally is a small ship, and science-orientated or not, there isn't a lot of room to house civilians." She squinted her eyes to the self-assured Romulan. "No matter how academically esteemed."

"I don't make mistakes," Seleya said flatly. Ordinarily, there might have been a more venomous tone to her voice, but she felt confident that her eyes were conveying the underlying message appropriately. Besides, the Trill seemed to have a backbone, and it was always best not to push too hard where it was clear one person had an advantage over another. "I'm sure it's possible the paperwork was misfiled or hasn't crossed your desk, yet. You're bound to be quite busy on a ship like the Galileo; I can call back at another time, if you'd like? I wouldn't want to be a bother, but I am eager to begin my work. And it seems you're the one that's holding the key to that at the moment."

Seleya's painted lips smiled pleasantly enough as she pushed at the brim of her hat to open up the view of her face on the monitor, but inwardly she was already regretting the way this conversation was going. It wasn't clear which sensibilities she offended in the Trill - professional or personal - but if she didn't straighten it out, somehow ingratiate herself to the other woman, this would go nowhere. And fast.

"Yeah, another time might be better actually," Stace replied, pulling the corners of her bottom lip into a strained expression. "Perhaps in a week or so? By then I imagine that my assistant might have drudged through all of the mundane paperwork I haven't managed to action."

Her back was well and truly up and that was evident to them both. Norvi knew that she wasn't that great an actress to betray anything other than the truth. And perhaps being in the position she was in, that was a detriment to her character. Sometimes being diplomatic, though going against the grain of ones feelings, gained the more advantageous outcome. And yet the Trill could never sacrifice her own personal boundaries no matter how high the professional cost. She'd just keep paying that toll just to save face. A proud streak she had inherited from Yvaine, her third host and attache to the Trill senate. She dealt with her fair share of bureaucratic arseholes. And that animosity travelled through the Stace line to its current host.

"What can I actually help you with now though, Missus... Kilo, was it?"

Seleya's grip on the commlink console had tightened to the point that she thought she actually heard the material straining. She consciously released her hold for fear all that tension would start making its way up to her face. This...woman...was doing a good job of ruffling her feathers. If there was anything more off-putting it was having all her academic accomplishments set aside with a "miss" or "missus" instead of "professor" or "doctor." She hadn't made her way through the cutthroat Romulan university system to be called "missus" by anyone.

"Doctor. I'm Professor Dr. Seleya Qellar," she said, managing a very even tone that even suggested some degree of patience where there definitely was none. "There's been some delay with my security credentials, and I can't access even the most basic of the ship's systems. I don't even know who's in the science department, and I'd like to begin my work as soon as possible. I'm sure there's room for some cooperation with my new colleagues, and I'd like to get in touch with those that have relevant research interests. Otherwise I feel like I'm sitting here for twenty-four days twiddling my thumbs when I could be working, especially since they refuse to reserve any research space for me at this facility without your authorization."

The Romulan woman slumped a little bit and frowned, a practiced look of defeat meant to inspire some sense of pity. In truth, she really was getting tired of jumping through hoops just to get things done. Whether there had actually been some bureaucratic delay with her security clearance or this had been done on purpose was anyone's guess (though she favored the latter theory), the fact remained it really was impeding her ability to get anything done. She'd always assumed that Starfleet was something of a model of efficiency, the Federation counterpart to the Romulan Navy. And yet, it seemed like the Federation and Starfleet were neatly merged into one giant ball of bureaucracy and bias.

The Trill shook her head. "We can't have that!" Stace replied genuinely. She minimised the transmission without saying anything, Seleya seeing only a UFP emblem as she did so, accessed the communications file and started to pretend to look. Within ten seconds, Stace's face returned to the viewscreen. "I'm sorry, Professor. How do you spell 'Killer'? With a K? Ah, hold on!"

Her face disappeared again and then two seconds later came back into view. "Found you!" she said, her enthusiasm exaggerated. "Who knew you spelt it with a 'Q'? Anyway," she turned to the padd at the side of her and accessed it, "I have authorised your research premises on Starbase 84. You shouldn't have a problem getting to work."

During the entire exchange Seleya had to suppress the urge to just reach out and strike that fat Grazerite next to her. Lieutenant Stace was the real source of distress, but the man's interminable heavy, wheezing breaths were enough to make her want to lash out and take all her frustrations out on him. She settled for glaring at him while Norvi was offscreen but quickly put herself back together by the time the Trill reappeared.

"Oh, really? That's absolutely delightful, I don't know how to thank you! I've been trying for days here on the starbase, and it's taken me this long just to find out who I should contact," Seleya said, trying not to overplay her 'excitement.' "Uh, I don't suppose you could provide me with access to the manifest, as well? The comm frequencies aren't really in the civilian communications database, and they refuse to just route your call through to the ship. I don't mean to be a bother, but I hate to think that I might be of some benefit to someone on the ship or vice-versa yet not able to get in touch with them..."

"Unfortunately," Stace started with, a look of genuine regret washing over her face, "I can't offer you the manifest at this time. Mainly because of your security clearance. If SFHQ hasn't cleared you, I can't go above that." She feigned an alliance with the Romulan with an expression that understood her frustration. "But as head of the department here, I am privy to what my team are working on over and after shoreleave. If you submit your proposals directly to me, Professor, I can go through them and advise you where to start. Sound like a plan?"

It clicked suddenly why her veiled hostility ran so rife throughout her: She reminded her of a colleague she once served with as Janel, her previous host. A bitter woman who made the captain's life a living hell while stationed on his Galaxy class starship, the Gilmore. As a scientific diplomat the Romulan woman demanded her entire quarters to be decorated solely in white, a stark, bright contrast to the usual blunted personality of her species, and then proceeded at every turn to derail the efficiency of her visit with outlandish and unbending requests. Most of which Janel declined out of spite. Some of that seemed to thread through Norvi also.

"If you want to work together on this, I'll be more than happy to help." Her smug resistance now pleased the Trill as her emotions fell into place.

It hardly sounded like the sort of plan she'd hoped for, but it was better than nothing at all. She hated to settle, but Seleya had to admit that Norvi held virtually all of the cards. She could continue pressing but that was just likely to get her shut out altogether. She'd just have to come up with some sort of project to flush out Oren Idris; what was it he studied? It irritated her that she couldn't remember after all this time, but it was carefully stored away with all her other files on the "young" man.

"Of course, I think that's quite reasonable," Seleya lied. There was absolutely nothing reasonable about this entire situation, least of all these damnable hoops she was forced to jump through waiting on a security clearance that probably wouldn't come until the day the ship actually docked. What the hell was she supposed to do, just sit around a starbase like she was on some leisure holiday? Rubbish. "I'll forward my research abstracts to you, and you can put me in touch with the appropriate crew members?"

Stace visibly squirmed at the Romulan's suggestion and retracted her head back a little, fashioning a gentle shake as she did so. "I'm sure that you academics can appreciate the importance of R&R, Professor Killer," she said softly. "But my crew will be on shoreleave before they return to active duty over the coming months. I can certainly forward your information on to them to see if any would like to pick up the mantle instead of taking time out to recuperate after this difficult mission we have just come through." She paused and then relented a little. "I sound like I am actively resisting you, don't I? I don't mean to, but it is part and parcel of life in the Fleet. Regulations and procedures. I'm sure that you understand."

She didn't mind one way or another whether the Romulan did, but it was fun for Norvi to butt up against someone so stoic.

...was that spotted Carrayan jackanape really calling her Professor Killer? Was she even listening when Seleya had repeated her name for the third time? Qell-ar. Qellar. It didn't take a linguist to say it! It wasn't a Klingon name, it presented itself very well in Federation Standard. But then again, this one seemed to be enjoying the game of holding her by the tail and batting at her with a paw. One of Norvi's previous hosts - for Seleya assumed no one could become this impossibly obnoxious in just one lifetime - must have had a bad run in with Romulans or, perhaps, just took special pleasure in being intransigent.

Seleya tried to keep the disbelief off her face. Discretely, she shifted her eyes to the corner of the screen to check the stardate and make sure she hadn't been imagining things. Shoreleave didn't begin for the crew for another 23 days and 15 hours, what was she going on about R&R? Did it stand for Ridiculous & Remiss?

Her work standards were thoroughly Romulan, which had served her well in professional capacities, but it had left the Federation obsession with recreation completely beyond her grasp. How could anyone possibly recuperate after a mission? There was paperwork to file, progress reports to write, actions to review... She couldn't fathom what they'd possibly been doing on the mission to require such a lengthy period of relaxation, unless it was some sort of physical conditioning program. But from the looks of the lieutenant, that hardly seemed the case.

"I've grown accustomed to both active and passive resistance in the Federation, so it's nothing I haven't encountered before," Seleya said, trying to keep the tone of her voice even. She wanted to snap at the Trill, but she didn't. Just because others wanted to spend their time lounging about a starship didn't mean she should be relegated to the same activity. Part and parcel of life in the fleet, indeed, she thought. "Of course I'm sure the rigors of your mission exacted quite a toll on the crew, necessitating an entire two months of...R&R. So, I wouldn't want to impose upon anyone at all. I'll just forward the abstracts along to you and leave that in your hands; in the meantime, I can begin my work here on the station, which should keep me busy and contented in the meantime."

"Absolutely," the Trill beamed back with a grin. "And thank you for being so understanding. I'm sure that you're quite eager to get started and I know how frustrating it can when you're sitting on research."

She paused for a moment and looked evenly into the viewscreen. Norvi couldn't quite ascertain whether or not she respected the woman. Like, she knew that she never would. And she wasn't actually sure whether Romulans bothered with such folly as friendship or whether their outward hostility was engendered to put an immediate stop to such blossoms. Her eyes softened, and she relented fully. Stace wasn't a naturally cruel woman, nor was she so unprofessional that she would outright hinder someone's scientific endeavours. "I'll pass your information throughout the department and I'm sure that someone will contact you in a day or so."

"That would be lovely," Seleya said, going through the motions with well-practiced rhythm and precision. It had become clear exactly had far she'd get with the Trill, and given the pattern of the day she was in no mood to prolong the conversation any longer than necessary. "Thank you so much for your help, lieutenant, I appreciate the time you've taken and the doors you've opened. I'll see you in twenty-four days, and, until then, I hope you and the science staff are able to enjoy the - R&R - on the journey here."

She cut the commlink, watched the screen go dark and then slammed her palm forcefully against the console. Dammit! So close, and yet so far... Just as it always was with that blonde-headed menace. Both the Grazerite and the Ferengi jumped at the outburst; the former seemed to have the good sense to bore his eyes into his own viewscreen, but the Ferengi turned to look at her. His eyes scanned up and down her body, and he displayed his filed set of teeth in a show of appreciation at both her temperament and her appearance. Finally seeing a suitable target for her vitriol, Seleya partially turned and leaned toward him.

"Keep your eyes on me for another microsecond, and I will rip the lobes right off your bulbous head; shove them in that disgusting, bacteria-infested maw you call a mouth; and press your beady little eyes into your skull until you swallow," she hissed. She saw he was about to speak, perhaps in his defense, and her eyes widened to give a half-crazed look that made her seem halfway to Lieutenant Stace's "Professor Killer" moniker. She brought one slender finger to her lips; the red nail polish matched the red lipstick that matched the red of her dress and hat, making her suddenly look in his eyes as if she was dressed in humanoid blood. "Shhhh. Not one word, little man. Not one...single...word...."

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Dr. Seleya "Killer" Qellar
Biotechnologist
USS Galileo
[ PNPC - Mott ]

&

Lieutenant Norvi Stace
Chief Science Officer
USS Galileo

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