A Vintage Phantasm

Posted on 08 Nov 2024 @ 2:09pm by Chief Petty Officer Katja Becker & Chief Petty Officer Lysander Octavio
Edited on on 14 Nov 2024 @ 12:25am

2,622 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: Episode 20 - Reconstruction
Location: USS Galileo-A - Deck 4, Lysander's Quarters
Timeline: MD 04, 0800 hrs

[ON]

It was a marvellous day. Most of them where when you were Lysander Octavio. He had awoken a few hours before his shift having slept well, cornered the bathroom for his morning regimen and the initial glance in the mirror had revealed, as ever, that he was quite the handsome devil.

He began brushing and coiffing his hair, applying various products and ensuring it had that springy, tussled look, that iconic Octavio style that was the envy of one and all.

Next he began working on his skin. Creams, oils, a touch of makeup here and there.

Ah. It was the best part of his day.

He began to apply a little mascara, just for some accenting, when something most... preturbing happened.

The lights went out. The room shot down to nigh on freezing temperatures.

His hand slipped and flakes of black spread over his temple.

He felt a... rage. Exhaustion. Why hadn't he been able to see properly. It had been days since he had been properly presentable.

He stormed into the shared quarters and drew his leg back, kicking the coffee table as hard as he could.

Glass shattered. Sprinkling everywhere. Thousands of tiny crystals.

Then...

He was looking into the mirror.

A perfect face staring back.

Oh yes. The morning routine. Just a little mascara was it? Yes. He nodded inwardly, finishing the final touch of his eyelashes.

He carefully placed the brush down and went to pick up some concealer.

Looking down, darkness once again drew in.

A large shard of glass was protruding from his shin.

"How did... how did that... get there?" He said as blood rushed from his head.

He dropped to the ground and weakly grasped for his commbadge.

"S-Sickbay..." He muttered before the darkness enveloped him.

----

Katya sat in one of the chairs in sickbay slowly spinning around with a nudge from her good foot while she tossed a roll of coban gauze up in the air over and over. Her duty shift was almost over; only a few minutes left...

And of course such thoughts angered the gods as an alert came into sickbay. Grabbing the gauze on it's downward arc, Katja shoved herself out of the chair and walked over to the console.

Location: 04-1409 EN
Commbage: PO1 Octavio Lysander

Katja tapped her commbadge, "This is Chief Becker. Please state the nature of your medical necessity." She chuckled slightly at herself as she awaited a response...which didn't come. Hmm. Her brows furrowed.

"Officer Lysander. You rang?" She tried again, and no dice.

Great. Katja walked over and grabbed a med bag and logged herself out of sickbay to see what was going on. It wasn't a long trek; hell, nothing was a long trek on this sardine can. Once in front of Lysander's quarters, she entered her authorization code and the door slid open.

"Hello? Officer Lysander? You contacted sickbay - I'm a medical officer..." Katja called out before stepping into the shared quarters.

There was a piercing ringing in his brain, like some sort of tiny insect had flown in and was playing havok with his grey matter.

The room was blurry and he felt the cold floor below him.

Undignified.

He could hear some words being spoken in the other room. They were distorted, undecipherable.

But he could feel something. Yes. Whatever was going on hadn't muddied his empathic skills too much.

Whoever they were seemed a little curious, maybe a little cautious too. On the surface at least. There was something deeper too. Some... great desire. Underneath it all. He couldn't put his finger on what it was.

"Hello?" He said weakly as the room began to solidify around him again. "Who is there?"

Katja stepped into the space and looked about the main room, not seeing anyone. She was about to call out again when she heard it...

Had someone got stuck in the head? Katja chuckled darkly as all kinds of ridiculous thoughts raced through her head. If that was the case, she was going to be more than happy to share this little nugget of information with the rumor mill.

"I'm coming in...hope you're decent!" Katja called out as she tapped the console next to the door and was rewarded with the soft hiss of the doors releasing. In front of her was a man, laying on the ground, most decidedly not stuck on the head, but rather appeared to have...what...passed out?

"Please state the nature of your medical emergency." Katja mimicked in her best EMH voice. That it was laced with a strong Germanic accent was added flavor to the sauce as far as she was concerned.

He looked up, the blurry figure quickly becoming sharp and focussed. Platinum blonde. Sharp. Sharp. Sharp...

She was familiar. Not her visage, but her... aura? Her feel. Where had he felt it before.

A fleeting wisp of flavour permeated over his tongue. Dark fruits. Firm tanins... "Aged an extra twenty five years..." He involuntarily whispered.

Then he shook his head.

"My leg... The... glass..." He trailed off as he looked at his perfect, beautiful leg and saw it had not a mote of glass about it.

"Your leg? It looks okay to me...I'm more worried about your head." Katja crouched down and took out a pen light and began shining it in Lysander's eyes. "Pupils, equal, reactive to light..." She began moving through her assessment of him and found nothing of significance other than a small goose egg on the back of his skull from falling out. "Do you remember what happened?"

"Do I?" He whispered staring at the woman. "I... I was angry. It was too cold. Dark. I couldn't make myself... perfect." He winced and shoved himself a little more upright. "I... walked... yes... into the coffee table and it shattered." His black eyes burrowed into her.

"Then you were there."

Katja turned the tricorder onto Lysander's head, but the results did not show any acute findings to explain this...weirdness. "I know there have been some reports of strange hallucinations recently...perhaps?" She shrugged in a noncommital manner. That problem was a big-brain issue; no doubt the physicians were working up something on addressing this particular condition. Katja however was a more of a treat em and street em medic. It was safe to move him. She reached out a hand. "Need a help up?"

Lysander looked at her hand and paused for a few moments before taking it gingerly and allowing her to haul him up.

He stood breathing deeply for a time, looking at Katja up and down. His eyes eventually lingered on her leg.

"You are missing a leg." He stated, his eyes rising to meet hers. "I... thought a lot about that."

Katja studied the man she had just helped with a shrewd eye. Black eyes met hers...ah...one of those mind readers. A Betazoid. She didn't trust people who could see inside, to all the secrets one worked so hard to keep that way.

"Yeah. Lost it aways back. Starfleet was nice enough to give me a replacement while I keep looking for it. Kind of you to point it out...wait. Why the hell have you thought a lot about my leg? I've never met you before."

"No, no..." He replied vaguely, his eyes shining, "Not your leg. My leg. Last time... Is perfection defined by everything being exactly in order. As expected. Sublime." He was staring at her yet past her at the same time.

"Are iconic flaws superior to the unblemished flesh of one's birth? Is the loss of a limb somehow... additive?" He had thought that. Now it was formed into words. But when? And when had he met this cybernetic doctor before? It didn't make sense.

"Additive? Ah, PO Octavio, that's kind of messed up, and I know messed up. Are you sure you didn't hit your head? What are you talking about?" Katja pulled her tricorder back out and began scanning him again.

"I... considered asking you to cut it off..." He murmured, voice utterly distant.

Then he blinked a few times and shook his head.

"Just... figments of something. It is quite unusual. I cannot place it." He paused momentarily. "Or you."

His eyes suddenly focused properly on the medic before him, keen and inquisitive. "When you first get a read on a person... How can I put this. It's special. New. All of those emotions, desires... they're so fresh. A brand new perspective. It is for me, as humans say, joie de vivre."

He narrowed his eyes slightly, "But you. You are not new. This isn't the first time," he shook his head, "No-no-no it is not. I've felt you before. And..." He blinked again, slightly cocking his head in sudden thought, "I can taste..." He trailed off as the memory of tanins flooded over his tongue.

Taste what exactly...the bullshit? Katja snorted at her own irreverence as she considered what he said. "There are a bunch of other crew members that have reported...unusual experiences. Hallucinations or something. I'm not getting anything on the tricorder, and you don't have any signs of cranial trauma...I can log it, or you can come to sickbay."

Flipping the tricorder closed, Katja decided to continue, given just what Octavio had said regarding limbs, and lopping off of said limbs. "If what you were saying were inner musings...losing a part of yourself is never 'additive.' You can only lose so much before your days become consumed with trying to fill all the holes. Plus, it is an environmentals nightmare. Hard to keep the temp regulated with all the hull breaches." She chuckled to herself, but her 'joke' didn't reach her eyes.

"Hmm..." He allowed her words to wash over him. They made some sense. Yes. It was something one might consider extreme indeed, removing a limb. But then... whispers from the void... would someone who had found perfection truly share the secret to it. Something in his gut cursed his beautiful symmetry.

"So we have met," he said after an unusually long pause, "Just in some sort of alternative... reality? Where we..." He smacked his lips a little. "...We drank together. Fine wine..."

"Um...alternative reality? Ah, sure." Katja did not know what to make his last statement. "Wait, what do you mean regarding fine wine?" With the mention of fermented grapes, Katja was willing to overlook all sorts eccentricities.

"Wine. Yes." Lysander gave her a wide eyed 'duh' type look, "Surely you must have some... memory of this. It was exquisite." He shook his head slowly.

"I am a connoisseur of wine, an oenophile. I have an incredible collection aboard, locked up by that philistine Tarin." He bared his teeth for a moment, then shifted to an easy grin, "I believe you and I liberated it from it's most unjust incarceration."

Katja shook her head in the negative. "No. I have not experienced anything like what some of the crew have described, and unfortunately absolutely no memory of this! We drank wine you say? Well why did you not lead with such. What you have described...well it tracks. I would absolutely liberate such an item from the clutches of 'evil.'"

"Ha," Lysander gave a dry, humourless laugh, "Circumstances do not permit such a thing now alas. Locked in the auxiliary cargo bay... Probably not even kept at the temperature I recommended when it was confiscated..." He looked vexed. "We must have had a real stroke of luck in whatever alternative universe we were in..."

"The aux cargo bay? Hmm...interesting." Katja said in a thoughtful tone. "Why can't we, exactly?" A covert operation was just the thing to get her mojo back.

Lysander was about to respond but stopped himself, theatrically stroking his chin. "Well... I suppose there would have to be a power failure. One substantial enough to knock out sensors to the bay for some time. And then... well it would have to be on some graveyard shift or at a time when a lot of the officers were distracted..." He trailed off thoughtfully.

"The simplest plan would probably be a better one. We're getting ready to go on shore leave. Potentially less people on board. Just need to glitch the camera, go in via one of the Jeffries tubes access points...quick in quick out. No one will be the wiser."

Katja could not believe she was actually discussing such a liberation. At some point she might want to consider whether or not she was still in control things, but that could occur at another time. For now, it was exciting to come up with a plan.

Lysander spent a few moments in thought. The glory of a fairly risk free heist, coupled with a reunion with his precious vintages was exceptionally tempting.

"Well I do have access to an array of... glitches," his voice began to drip with theatrical conspiratoriality, "Such a thing might then prompt an... inspection of the auxiliary bay..." He raised an eyebrow, "Could provide enough time for some well organised persons to acquire a few select bottles."

"And apparently I'm going to need to procure my cold-weather field gear which is rather conveniently located in a crate in the same bay; what are the odds? Imagine if we were to serendiptiously meet for our respective tasks."

"Wait..." Lysander paused for a moment and blinked, "...Cold weather gear?" His mind flashed back to an ice cold Galileo, some figment of the alternative time sending a chill down his spine. "Whatever for?"

"The COB has decided to make me a pet project. Thinks he can save my from myself." She chuckled in an easy manner, but the humor didn't reach her eyes. "It's irrelevant to our current plans. Look, point being, I have legitimate reason to be in the auxiliary bay. Since you have a plan too...well it's downright 'logical' if you consider it."

"Oh don't get me started on our illustrious 'Master Chief'," Lysander rolled his eyes, "He thinks he's some kind of Starfleet folk hero out here to dish pearls of wisdom to all who will hear it." He shook his head and gave a single 'ha' then returned to the more interesting subject.

"Logical... yes, yes you are not wrong. Couldn't hurt to liberate something or other... medicinal... yes..." He nodded slowly and was about to continue but a chime echoed around the room.

"Petty Officer Octavio report immediately to the captain's ready room." The voice of Commander Warraquim came through the speakers.

Lysander blinked, standing in silence for several moments, "I, uh, think I need to go." He moved closer to Katja and whispered, "Could... could they hear us?"

"You should most definitely go, Octavio. And who knows? You'll find out shortly. Can't be that bad, right? I mean think about it - we're so far out, the odds of getting booted right out the gate is pretty low." Katja couldn't say it and keep a straight face. The Betazoid male looked somewhat ill...

"At ease," She ordered, but not unkindly. "You're going to be fine." Was Katja sure of that? Nope. Did it matter? Also, nope. "We'll talk again...for strategery."

Lysander took a moment, then gave her a theatrical wink. "Onwards and upwards," he said with a little gusto, "But first I need a look in the mirror..."

[OFF]

=====

Chief Petty Officer Katja Becker
Medical Officer
USS Galileo-A
[PNPC played by S'Ers'A M'Lyr'Zor]

&

Petty Officer (First Class) Lysander Octavio
Security Officer
USS Galileo-A
[PNPC Vala]

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