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NPC Ensign Tzim-Shah - New Plans, planning the PLAN

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((Outside the office of Lieutenant Fortune, Deck 7, USS Gorkon))


The day had been a disaster so far, pretty high on Shah's screw-o-meter scale, not so much on the scare-oh-by-my-grandmother's-beards-someone-amputated-some-of-my-limbs scale, but pretty high on the tired-and-abashed-enough-to-wish-that-a-mudwhale-would-devour-me-to-end-my-agony-pleasethankyouverymuch scale.


An 8 out of 11, if you were a Vulcan and you asked him for figures, how those prick-eared green goblins use to fancy.


Anyway, anyway, he was still sore, exhausted and had slept less than a cardassian vole trying to get to the bottom of a bottle of kanar, and on top of that he was sitting tight next to the guy he'd intended to stab the day before but, anyway, things seemed to be going... halfway right. Okay-ish. Tentatively.


Who would have thought that apologising would do any good.


But whatever it was, he had just been given the news that the brilliant but crazy engineer who had cut off his arm would not be able to be there to give him a new one (as she owed him). Something that slightly annoyed the hirsute chap, but which he somehow understood was due to force majeure. After all, a chief engineer doesn't leave the boat they're repairing in dry dock, with repairs half done, unless they have a fire up their arse or something similar.


He just hoped that, wherever she went, that crazy Ferengi would do well. After all, she had shown more nerve and resolve than the overwhelming majority of engineers. Though, she had very shaky hands as a surgeon.


A pity, certainly, but surely he needed an arm. And a GOOD one, if he wanted to keep rocking his career in an Admiral Ship. No matter how.


Luckily, Starfleet Engineering School churned out a good handful of them every season, though there were VERY, VERY few in which Shah was willing to put himself in their hands. Even fewer than medics, by the way.


So, after he scratched his shaggy chin for a moment with his right hand, Shah pointed to one he could actually trust.

Tzim-Shah: How about dragging Commander Reynolds into this?

Shah almost, almost, laughed when he saw Doctor Baby-Face's lost, blank look on his face. The bloody cub had only been on board for two and a half moons, of course. He stifled a chuckle with a sigh and proceeded to provide the quack with an explanation.

Tzim-Shah: I mean Erin Reynolds, not Quinn Reynolds. The one of the plants, not the skipper. After all, she's an engineer too... like the Admiral, but we don't bother the Admiral with little things, do we?

The comment made the kid smirk.

Tagren-Quinn: No, but…

The Tellarite just stared at the physician's pondering. By his grandmother's beard he could almost see the gears of his brain working,, shifting on one foot and then the other while looking at the floor plates as if they knew the answer to the question of the meaning of the universe, of life and of all things. A beat passed before he glanced back up to Shah, who waited expectantly.

Tagren-Quinn: …I’ve not met the Commander yet but it’s definitely worth exploring, asking.

The security guard on sick leave patted his knee with his good hand and let out a satisfied and undoubtedly porcine grunt.

Tzim-Shah: Perfect, let's get to it:: He paused for a moment, not wanting to spoil the good prospects he had by skipping the doctor's insufferable eagerness to map out everything down to the last detail:: Oh well, we have a plan. The beginning of a plan. A planned detail.

Tagren-Quinn: Yes, let’s plan on it. We’ll get the surgery checked off the list first and I’ll then see if I can track down Commander Reynolds.

This time, he let out a resounding belly laugh.

Tzim-Shah: That's the best answer I' ve gotten from you since the day we met, Baby-Face.

A device onthe doctor’s  wrist dinged and he raised his arm to check it.

Tagren-Quinn: Ah, yes. Right, so I should get on to Sickbay and get things prepped.

Tzim-Shah: It's all right, kid. See you in a bit. And hey...thanks.

Tagren-Quinn:  Response

Tzim-Shah: I know, but it is important to me. I have my life here.

Tagren-Quinn:  Response

Tzim-Shah: Yeah, yeah. See you later Doc. 

Tagren-Quinn:  Response

At that moment, as if he had invoked her, the Counselor's door opened, and a tall, stern-faced Vulcan (a standard Vulcan if ever there was one) stepped out. Behind him, Shah could see the cheerful face of the Counsellor paired with an extremely PINK hair. The Tellarite flashed a smile to himself briefly before he put on his best sulky face.

Tzim-Shah: If that beak-eared goblin has eaten all the brittle, I will not be held accountable for my actions!

Fortune's reply could not be heard, for the door hissed shut behind Shah.

Ensign Tzim-Shah

Security Officer on Sick Leave

USS Gorkon NCC-82293

simmed by Alieth


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