Bus Your Tray

Posted on 03 May 2019 @ 9:29am by Lieutenant JG Matthew Plumeri & Chief Warrant Officer 3 Azra Ghoc
Edited on on 11 May 2019 @ 3:37pm

2,455 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: Episode 17 - Crystal of Life
Location: USS Galileo-A - Mess Hall
Timeline: MD -24, 1330

[ON]

Galileo's galley was almost completely empty. In fact, Azra noted, there was only Lieutenant Plumeri. A few other crewmembers had rushed out of the galley to get to their shift. And they'd left their trays on the tables.

Azra didn't think of herself as a neat-freak or even all that concerned with clutter. Even so, she hated the disrespect that leaving your mess for someone else to clean up displayed. She shoved the last bite of her sandwich into her mouth and picked up her tray. She moved to the nearest table where another tray featured a half-eaten sandwich and the glass of juice had been knocked askew, leaving a puddle inside the lip of the plastic.

Matthew looked up from his meal. A plate of Indian Tikka Masala and jasmine rice with a side of Naan. A wee cup of tea sent up spirals of hot vapor. "Hey there Chief. How's your day going?" he asked politely as he set a PaDD down and pulled earbuds from his ears. They dangled now about his neck and some music he was listening to sounded through. He paused the music and took a bite.

Plastic clattered as Azra nestled a couple of the trays. "Fine, except for people leaving their crap on the tables." Her frustration was clear in her voice. "How card can it be to pick up your tray and drop it in the replicator for recycling? Takes a whole 20 seconds, if that." She suited her words by picking up the three trays from her current table and depositing them in the replicator and pressing the button that signaled the recycling program.

"They're just not thinking about it that's all. They all left in a hurry too. Maybe they got called back to duty? Maybe they are just too comfortable here in the galley?" Something was irritating the Chief and Matt knew it. But it was a fine line between 'concern' and 'prying'. "Just leave it - it's not your job y'know?"

Azra didn't feel like giving them the benefit of the doubt. "No, it isn't my job," she barely stopped herself from snapping at the Lieutenant. It was never a good idea to take that tone with a senior officer, but she came close, even so.

"It isn't my job, but they didn't do the job. Not only does it show disrespect for the person who does eventually have to clean up after them, leaving it would mean that I don't respect the rules or whoever eventually decides to clean up the mess." She thumped another set of trays into the replicator slot far harder than was necessary. "Galileo doesn't have a dedicated janitorial staff. We're responsible for cleaning up our own messes."

Matthew observed the Chief and considered his options. On the one hand, it was clear to him that something else was bothering Azra. Matt could imagine that even the months and weeks of travel were starting to wear. Tempers were short all over the ship and nerves were frayed. On the other hand, it might be none of his business and the sensible thing would be to not draw attention to anything and bus his own tray and wish her a good rest of her day. But that would be so boring.

Plumeri set the PaDD down and took a swig of his tea, "This isn't like you? What's gotten under your skin Chief? Has to be more than just a messy galley. Although, if you want to assign one Ensign Callin Mastrel to galley duty for a while...I'd have no objections?" He opened his hand and indicated to the bench opposite him for a sit.

Azra signed heavily and took the seat across from him. "Sorry about that. I always get a little frustrated when people who are supposed to be adults expect someone else to clean up after them." She rubbed a finger along a brow-ridge. "Even so," she added, "that isn't the real issue. I got an anonymous complaint earlier." Her voice was tight with anger as she continued, "Someone said that they felt that the training courses I've been running are not only ineffective but actually detrimental to crew preparedness."

"Oh, and the best part is that they didn't bother to give any concrete complaints or suggestions. No. Just a general complaint that I'm actually hurting the crew's ability to do their work. It's aggravating!"

"Bah! If it's unsigned then its all bullshit. Just someone venting. If it was a real complaint and they really wanted action then they'd sign it so that they can personally deliver their consternation." He tried not to problem solve. He tried to just listen and so he said, "What's aggravating to you about it? The fact that it's unsigned? Or the fact that they're wrong?" Matthew asked as he took another forkful of food.

"Both," Azra said, and thumped her hand down onto the table. She leaned forward before continuing, "But the thing that really, really gets me is that I can't actually change anything because of it. I take criticism seriously. If my training methods aren't working for someone, I'll make an effort to adjust so that they get the most benefit out of it."

She shook her head. "You know, I'm not even sure that's the worst part. I think the worst part is probably that someone aboard doesn't care enough about their safety and achievement to actually complain to someone with authority to make something happen. If they really think I'm hurting the crew, and that my training doesn't help them, do something about it. Don't just submit an anonymous complaint!"

Matthew swallowed his food and continued, "Yeap...you should call it out. Seriously. Next training call it out and say that part of the training here is to register complaints as well as praise. Nothing will change unless you do something about it. Say something like that and see what happens? As my dad used to say, 'stir the pot'. At least they will know that you are aware of the complaint and that you are acting on it." He took another forkful and added, "I'll bet that you even know who it might be?"

"Not a clue, honestly. I'm sure there are several people who don't really like me, but I thought it was an honest distaste, not this kind of petty nonsense." Azra thought about his idea. She was often a straightforward person, and the idea appealed to her. On the other hand, it might just foment further discontent with the individual or other. She'd have to think on the suggestion more.

Matt nodded, "It is petty. Not nice for someone to criticize you when all you're trying to do is help and make things better." He was finishing up his meal and said, "How have you been keeping yourself busy when not on duty? Got to be something more than planning readiness drills?" he smiled back and pushed the plate forward a bit.

Azra nodded, "I keep busy. Lately I've been working on a new uniform design as part of the contest. Starfleet's uniforms have remained mostly unchanged for the last twenty years or so, and Starfleet has been considering a change. I'm not sure my design will make it in time, what with the communication lag on the announcement of the contest and the time I've spent designing it, but hopefully it's at least considered."

Intrigued, Matt asked, "Really now? That's interesting. I guess I've just never really thought about it. Other than taking the uniform off after work - that part feels really good. What did you have in mind for how to change it? A different fabric? You're not considering going back to the 'kilt' style for the guys now are you?" he said with a wry grin and suspicious overlook.

"Most men don't have nice enough legs to pull of a kilt," Azra replied, only half-joking. "I was thinking of keeping the jacket and trousers concept, but these high collars are a pain for those of us with a different physiology." She gestured to her wider neck. "Every single shirt and coat I wear has to be customized to fit correctly."

He sipped his beverage, "Yeah, that would be a pain all the time. But Starfleet must have a uniform variance for you? I mean...look at the Ferengi crew? I don't think we have any Ferengi on Galileo but I saw some at spacedock before we left. They get to wear those little 'hats' that go on the back of their heads. You don't want just a variance though...you want to change the dress code yeah?"

She shrugged. "The issue with variants is that they usually only exist to service cultural differences and don't actually impact the uniform's structure. Sure, Bajorans can wear their earring on duty and Ferengi can wear their cap. It's different when your body is actually shaped differently. I don't have it nearly as bad as some other full-blooded Cardassians aboard."

"How far are you along in the design?" he asked. Matt never figured that the Chief would be at all interested in clothing styles. Then again, the Cardassian people were great artists and fashion was, after all, an art. And she must only be part Cardassian. She hinted at such. He asked, "Was your father or mother Cardassian then?"

"Father," Azra replied, "mom got pregnant in a prison camp and came back to Earth as soon as she could." It was an off-hand response, something that was just a part of her life, nothing to feel bitter about. "My design," her tone shifted, clearly this was something she had more immediate interest in, "is almost to the point where I'll try replicating it. It's got some classic styling, but it can accommodate a wider range of body types."

Matt nodded, the 'prison camp' reference was enough to tell him that this might be delicate territory. "Sorry if I brought up uncomfortable memories. I don't mean to pry." He said with genuine warmth. He leaned forward, placing his crossed arms and elbos on the table as he pushed the empty tray forward a bit, "Why not put on a fashion show? Right here on the Galileo? I'm serious. I'll bet you'd be the first person to do so in the Latari system. Who knows? Maybe the indigenous people will like your designs? We could put a show on in the holodeck? Just for the hell of it. You could design a shirt that reads, "Bus your own damn tray!" line of apparel." He smiled playfully.

Azra couldn't help but laugh at the suggestion. "That would make quite the shirt. Of course, I'm not sure it'd catch on." Laughing was good. It released a lot of the tension she'd been feeling. "Honestly, I'm not sure I'd be up for any kind of fashion show. I like to keep my hobbies a bit more private. I even thought about submitting my designs anonymously."

It was good to see her smile and laugh, "There, now that's better. Good to see a smile on you again Chief. Why anonymously? Where is the fun in that? Be who you are right from the start yeah?" He shrugged his shoulders and then added, "There are a people called the Nerviaii. They are related to my people. Maybe even close cousins. They have a saying which I love, it goes...um...'I do not at all understand the mystery of Life - only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us.' Doesn't that just give you gooseflesh? It does me. Because...I guess...life is all about taking risks. Life designing a new uniform for example. And to be open to failure - well - that takes great courage. I think you should submit your designs and proudly add your name to them. Only something good can happen. Expect the good and the universe...she delights in the challenge. Anticipate only the good...and draw to yourself this energy of life." He realized he was coming on a bit too strong and reddened, "Forgive me. I am reading a book about the Bajoran prophets. And I guess they inspire me. The wormhole aliens as they say. I don't mean to be...religioso." He searched for the right word but he couldn't find it.

Azra laughed again. She was laughing at his positive-thinking monologue. "You know, most people don't go spouting quotes. Even when they're really good, and applicable." She leaned back in her chair. "But you're right, at least about attitudes. It's not that I'm ashamed or shy or anything. It's just not about me. I enjoy getting recognition as much as anyone, but I don't want there to be anything that risks taking me away from this job. I love it."

Matthew drained what was left of his tea and set the cup down, "I'm full of useless facts and thousands of quotes. Now you know who to team up with when it's time to play twenty-questions" he said playfully. "Modesty never hurt anybody. Too much modesty though and you end up being a doormat. Not enough...and you're an ass. You have found the sweet spot." He sat forward again and snapped his fingers, "Dissolving replicator food trays!" a big devilish, gleeful smile set upon his face, "That would show them. Something fast acting too...like three minutes and then the tray dissolves. Leaving just...water." He looked at her for approval, "We program the replicator to dispense dissolving trays to the worst offenders of not-picking-up-after-yourselves. Better living through chemistry!"

"Wouldn't that just leave the food on the tables then?" Azra asked. "I'd be much more in favor of a tray that started shouting the name of the person who left it sitting after a while. Embarrassment and annoyance together can work wonders."

Crestfallen. That would be the word to describe Matt's facial expression, "Oh. Yeah. I guess you're right. I assumed, of course, that after three minutes the food would be gone. Huh." Deciding that this plan might not work he said, "Well, back to the drawing board as they say. What's on your list of chores for the rest of the day Chief?"

"Nothing out of the usual," Azra said and then jumped. "I've got to go. Thanks for talking me down, Lieutenant." She quickly moved her chair out and tossed a final tray in the recycler before jogging out of the room.

[OFF]

--

LTJG. Matthew Plumeri
Science Officer
USS Galileo-A

CWO3 Azra Ghoc
Boatswain
USS Galileo-A

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