Preemptive Pneumonics (Part 2 of 2)

Posted on 09 Jun 2012 @ 11:52am by Lieutenant Lilou Zaren & Chief Warrant Officer 3 Lamar Darius

2,451 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: Episode 01 - Project Sienna
Location: USS Galileo - Deck 7/8, Various
Timeline: MD 07 - 0035 hrs

Previously...

Lamar watched as Lilou seemed to lose herself in her thoughts for several moments, touching different part of her face before finally responding to him. Something about her reply seemed...strange, but he was unable to put his finger on exactly why. "A life-form scanner?" he asked, then paused for a moment in thought. "Well, I check all of the rooms on the ship during my walk-through...so aside from the Jeffries tubes and access hatches, I pretty much cover all of the ship. And I can't imagine that anyone would be stuck in either of those without a reason to be there." he said. It was not as if he was looking for stowaways, rather just to make sure the crew was safe and the ship was in order.

"Mm," she concurred absently. It was a common point of view. She and the other engineers spent a large percentage of their time crawling around the access hatches and ducts of the ship on routine maintenance and checks, but no one seemed to remember that. Sometimes she wondered if Command thought that they actually did all their work from the observation consoles in main engineering. That the ODN lines repaired themselves at the touch of a button. She'd learned better than to try and convince anyone outside of her own department of the facts. It was out of character for her to have brought it up at all. Maybe it had been the memory. Or the fact that Lamar had appeared so conscientious. Either way, she knew her place and telling him how to do his job sure as hell wasn't it.

And Now, the Conclusion...

[ON]

Lamar stared at her for a long moment, studying her face and trying to determine what, if anything, was wrong. She seemed distracted, like something was on her mind, and he finally decided to inquire. "Is...everything alright?" he asked quietly, "You seem a little distant."

"Hm?" she glanced back at him. "Oh. Yes," she lied blithely. "Labs next, right?" She nodded for him to go ahead. "So flight path specifications. Have you heard this one: Plaid Suspendered Servers Saute Saucy Indescribable Ribs Because Andorians Have Gigantic Cupboards?"

The chief blinked. "What?" he asked, his mind trying to wrap around the meaning behind what she had just said. Now he was beginning to worry about her.

"The six methods of flight path specification: planet, star system, sector, spacecraft intercept, relative bearing, absolute heading, and galactic coordinates," she looked up at him with a little quirk of her brows. "Plaid Suspendered Servers Saute Saucy Indescribable Ribs Because Andorians Have Gigantic Cupboards."

"Oh.." he replied quietly, feeling a bit sheepish for not understanding her complex pneumonic sentence. "Yeah, I've been reading up on those chapters, and I think I understand all of the materials." he said with a nod as he finished his walk with Lilou around the tight confines of main engineering. Satisfied that everything was in proper order, he proceeded to head for the exit and to the engineering labs across the corridor.

"I used to do that a lot, for study groups in Academy. Make up really strange pneumonic devices. We had drinking games about who had the weirdest ones. I never won, but I got close a couple times." She followed him out into the corridor and towards the turbo lift. "It's a gangly one, but it works. I don't know what exactly you wanted help with, so I'm just trying to think of the things I had more trouble with."

"That's one of the best one's I've heard." he replied with a grin, "I'm sure not going to forget that anytime soon." he added, instantly grateful for the simple helpful sentence she had provided for him. Seeing that both engineering labs were secure, they moved to the turbolift and entered, exiting several seconds later on Deck 8. "So, you like to have a few drinks here and there?" he asked, referencing her mention of her Academy life as they stepped out into the long corridor ahead.

She nodded. At the Academy, she'd grown fond of brandy, specifically the Vulcan variety, in moderation thanks to the aloof and smirking percentage in her study group. She'd given up alcohol when she'd gotten her first commission, but since the events on the Algonquin, she'd gone through a couple months of drinking her way through her off-duty hours before she'd cut back to normal levels. Now, she'd found a couple swigs of a brandy neat could get her through the worst of her night terrors and back to sleep better than any sedative. And she didn't have to talk to a doctor to get it. "Some," she shrugged, "you?"

"Oh yeah, I love a drink here and there...probably a bit too much." he admitted with a shy smile, his eyes traveling down to the ground and then back up to her face. "I'm more of a cognac man, but as you probably know, they're pretty similar." he replied, then paused to reconsider his words. "I guess cognacs are a bit sweeter...all the sugar, you know? But I wouldn't mind drinking some Saurian brandy with you one of these nights." he said. Together, the two of them made their way down Deck 8, checking the anti-matter storage rooms which appeared to be in good condition with no stray crewmen hiding anywhere.

"I haven't tried cognac. Mostly just ales and brandies. And Vulcan port, now. That was really very nice," she added, remembering it. It had been sweeter than most of the drinks she was used to, but rounded out well. "Saurian brandy it is," she agreed, looking around idly as they walked. "Do you drink the synthehol versions or the alcoholic ones? I first learned to drink on Vulcan brandy with Vulcans who were..." she searched for the right work to describe the fellows in her study group, "sort of snooty about real non-replicated pure non-synthetic brandy. Replicated versus non-replicated doesn't really register with me, but I can taste the difference between the real stuff and the synthehol."

"Synthehol?" he asked, then shook his head adamantly from side to side, "I can't stand the stuff, to be honest...makes my stomach feel ill." he said, then took a quick glance up and down the corridor to make sure they were alone before turning back to Lilou. "I have a few bottles in my quarters...of the real stuff. I served a tour of duty with the quartermaster aboard Starbase Two-Three-Four, so I called in a favor when I transferred to Galileo." he said quietly with a wink.

The first time, standing right in front of main engineering, his careful looks had made sense. But now, standing in the basically abandoned Deck 8, she found herself a little offended. It wasn't as though alcohol was a contraband item; he couldn't get in trouble for having it, so long as he didn't drink it during his shifts or let it affect his work. So the only reason he had to be concerned about being seen or overheard had to do with her - and there was hardly ever anyone down on Deck 8 unless it was someone in her department or the ship was falling apart. Unless she was missing something. Was she? It was frustratingly hard to tell. "Oh?" she uttered, not quite sure what else to say. The real stuff... of what? He was being terribly unclear.

Lamar nodded. "Yup...I always try to keep a bottle on hand. Right now I have Andorian ale and Yridian brandy." he said proudly, a happy glint to his brown eyes. "Have you ever tried either?" he asked curiously. Glancing one last time up and down the corridor to make sure they were alone, he took her hand and wrapped his dark fingers together with hers as he proceeded to lead her down the hallway and to the final two rooms he had to check.

She shook her head, thinking back. She'd done a bit of taste-testing in Academy, but she couldn't recall either of those. Then again, she'd spent most of her time with Vulcans. The probability that they'd encouraged her to taste anything Andorian was extraordinarily low. He glanced both ways again and her brows drew together. If he was so concerned with being seen with her, she could just as easily go back to her quarters and- His fingers twined with hers, dwarfing her hand, and she looked down at it questioningly. What did he need her hand for? He wasn't doing anything with it. He wasn't using it to guide her. He wasn't studying it or feeling it. He was just... holding it. Like a dead fish. Well. Mostly like a dead fish. It made very little sense. Maybe he was planning on doing something with it? But the way he'd twisted their fingers together made extrication a trial. It wasn't even a good source of heat as the method left their palms exposed where the thermal points of contact would be initiated. Maybe he liked the cold of her fingers? But he didn't appear to be focused on the sensation. She almost ran into the door frame of the next room they entered, so focused was she on the physical conundrum he'd presented.

As he stepped into the room, Lamar looked back and blinked as he watched Lilou almost walk into the bulkhead around the door. He pulled her through the door with a gentle tug then glanced into her eyes, noticing she had once again adopted a distant look on her face and seemed to be uncomfortable. Her hand felt cold, almost like something was wrong with her circulation, and she didn't seem to be responding much to his touch. It was almost as if...she hadn't held hands with anyone before. Co'mon, don't be absurd, Lamar, he scolded himself with a shake of his head, What woman doesn't know how to hold hands? He cleared his throat quietly to try and snap her from her daze. "You okay?" he asked, "That's the second time you've zoned out on me...something on your mind?"

Something on her mind. She looked up at him curiously. Something was always on her mind. Well... she thought back to a few hours before. Not always. Physical stimulation had a way of making the whirring gears in her head quiet for a time; it was part of the reason she released into it so easily, why she sought out activities like running and climbing and scrambling. The more focused she was on action, on sensation, on a goal, the less in her own head she got. The less she had to think about what other people were thinking, or what they were thinking about her, or what they wanted, or liked or didn't like, or suspected, or... whatever else people did that she couldn't quite follow. "I'm fine. Just... yes. Thinking." Maybe that was what the hand holding was for - to keep her from running into things. But she probably would not have run into anything if she hadn't been confused about why he was holding it. So maybe it was, instead, to make her run into things. But why would he do that and then prevent her from running into things if running into things had been the goal in the first place? "Did I miss something?" What had they been talking about? "Most of my friends in Academy were Vulcan. I haven't tried Andorian anything."

"Oh yeah?" he commented, somewhat surprised. "Never?" he said with a raised eyebrow. Out of all the brandys that he was familiar with, Andorian was one of the most popular. But of course, not to Vulcans. Such foolish people, he thought, depriving themselves of a good drink because of petty differences. "Well, do you want to come back to my quarters with me and have your first taste?" he asked.

Lilou looked up at him with a suspicious tilt, "You didn't want to study at all, did you?"

"Well...a bit of studying," he replied with a shrug, "But I don't want you to get bored with my head in my PADD all night." he added.

"Mmhmm." She wrinkled her nose, thinking. "Okay..." she smiled slowly. "So we make sure you know enough that you don't need to have your head in the PADD. What were those methods of flight path specification again?"

"Umm..." he muttered, thinking long and hard as he tried to remember what she had told him earlier. "Indestructible Ribs... Andorian cupboards... Um.." his eyes glanced at the ground as he tried to think of the rest of the strange sentence, but to no avail.

She bit her lip on a half laugh, then started backing away from him into the room with a sly smirk. "'Please Start Systematically Selecting Spaces In Reach,' Begs A-Blushing Hedonist Gal Coaxingly." She brushed her fingers over the corner of a crate, "Planet, star system, sector, spacecraft intercept, relative bearing, absolute heading, galactic coordinates. Try."

"Please Start Systematically Selecting..." he shook his head in frustration and let out a laugh, "I think you're making it harder than it should be." he paused to recall the different navigation modes. "Planet, system, sector, spacecraft intercept, relative headi..no, bearing, absolute heading....and..." he couldn't remember the last one.

"Gal Coaxing," she reminded him, prodding at the lid of the steel-brushed crate.

Lamar nodded, "Yeah, that's it...galactic coordinates." he finished with a grin, rather proud of himself for remembering all of them. Looking around one last time, he realized he was finished with his checks and ready to retire back to his quarters for the evening. He looked at Lilou and motioned towards the turbolift at the far end of the corridor. "So..I'm all finished for the night, all the rooms have been checked." he began, "Are you ready to come with me?" he asked, wondering if she had any tools or such items that needed to be retrieved from main engineering.

She nodded, slipping past him. "But no drinking until you've answered your questions correctly," she told him with a winning smile.

"I'll try...but no promises." he replied with a wink, then put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze. Together, the two of them walked down the tight corridor and towards the turbolift, on their way to Lamar's quarters.

[OFF]
-------

MWO Lilou Peers
Assistant Chief Engineering Officer
USS Galileo

MCPO Lamar Darius
Chief of the Boat
USS Galileo
NPC'd by Lirha Saalm

RSS Feed