Kali Nicholotti Posted July 11 Posted July 11 ((Deck 11, Main Engineering, USS Ronin)) Thump. One hooded, lidded, spiky eye slowly opened. The precise and predatory iris swiveled lazily on its axis, scouring the area before it with scrutinizing but unjudging attention. It saw nothing of interest, and so thought little of shutting. That’s precisely what it did. The soft, easy hum of breath lilted in the air. Thump. The eye opened again, more assertively this time. Still nothing before it was worthy of attention, and yet it dared not close again, for it was when eyes were closed that the greatest of harms were done. Or so he’d heard. Thump. A low, long-suffering growl exited his scaly lips. It was not a growl of rage, fury or anything else that might be unfairly associated with his fearsome appearance. No, this was a sigh of disappointment, of resignation, of accepting the inevitable mild discomforts of life, old age, and existence aboard a starship. Ensign Ferentis’ ears were well tuned for a creature of his professions; that is to say, the sounds of heavy industry was of no bother to him. He’d napped in enough Jeffries tubes during refits to simply tune out the raucous clatter of duty. But subtle, difficult-to-localize noises… those were entirely different stories. He didn’t know what he’d expected; leaning up on his stubby dino-digits, he resolved to find either the answer, and fix it, or locate another Jeffries tube nook that would serve as the perfect warming plate for him to curl up and snooze. Let it never be said he was not a man of action. Ronin’s wounds were significant, and as there was little of interest for Ferentis during shore leave aside from sleeping, he’d been happy to offer his temporary services to the bigger vessel. It was more than that, too; if he knew the department chief on the Khitomer, there was no point in getting familiar with the interior structure of the New Orleans II class vessel, because so much would be changed by his return that he’d have to start from scratch. The prospect of working through shore leaves was slightly improved by the realization that there were bound to be hundreds of meters of Jeffries tubes, each running EPS grids nearby, and each soaking in some of that delightful warmth. Thump. So far, that noise was the only drawback to his strategy. And it was stemming from above him. Careful, languid motions carried him forward like some skulking alligator in a sepulcher. He hummed gently to avoid scaring anyone he ran into. Thump. His mind carried him back to his engineering lectures; what, precisely, could so consistently create that rhythmic noise? It probably wasn’t anything related to the computer; it sounded distinctly mechanical, which was only to be expected in these metal catacombs. He kept crawling forward, humming a tune he did not know was about Frere Jacque. Thump-Thump. Ferentis paused. Scowled. Grunted with mild annoyance. Continued his journey. Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump… The dinosaur paused, and glanced to his right towards a non-existent camera. Either there was something deeply wrong with the ship’s internal structure or… He passed through a deck translation, foregoing the ladder entirely, and saw the cause of his nap’s interruption. He stared. Staring was rude. He stopped staring. For a brief instant, the most sensible thing he could think to do was inspect his claws. This did not last long. Here, now, was a problem, a challenge that Ferentis had never been so unfortunate or so careless to find himself faced with before. There would be, of course, nothing wrong with simply exiting the situation. He was, after all, an innocent napper turned voyeur. This was not something he’d wanted, and now that he was stuck with this, he was determined to do more than simply accept his role as an unfortunate passerby. But discovery would destroy the three people present; and Ferentis was all too familiar with the stinging embarrassment that would haunt him for long after the rest of those involved had died natural deaths. That seemed to be his lot in life. It would either be a cringe-inducing accident… …or a story. All that was required to get from one to the other was a willing author. He ducked his head low, and gently, silently, scarily sneakily, trundled directly below the spotted pairing. The thumping continued unabated. Ferentis nodded, impressed, before catching himself and continuing his work. Sharp talons dug into the micro-meter gap between the access panel and the protection cover. His eyes skimmed over the array of EPS control interfaces and life sup- aha! Life support. He began by turning up the temperature by just a few degrees. To the best of his understanding, most humanoid species dealt with heat by sweating, and given what he’d just seen, there was plenty of that underway. But though he was not a traditional Pahkwa’thanh by any stretch, he still held on to certain customs; one of these was the practice of… performing the deed in a room that was slightly warmer than the surrounding locale. It was seen as an inviting welcome to the soon-to-be-arriving clutch of eggs, and it mattered not one inch to Ferentis that neither of the people above him were Pahkwa-thanh. Affection cared not for species delineations. His attention then fell upon the lighting. Ten seconds later, the slow blossom of a warm red glow suffused the intersection directly above him. He could see its gradual presence announce itself behind him, in the reflection of the path he’d just climbed through. One last thing to do. He scrambled through the corridor of confining metal as quietly and gracefully as he could, through several decks, until he accidentally struck upon precisely what he was looking for. A head, wedged into the small compartments afforded by the mess of Jeffries tubes. Ferentis spared a thought for the poor officer who had inspired the need for such a desperate accommodation. But of far more importance was the pair of thick fluffy white towels. He hummed to himself again as he snatched them, placed them on his back, and returned to the source of the disruption. With careful, tender, practiced motions, he extended one folded towel and then the other, leaving them in much the same position as their intended beneficiaries; one atop the other. Finally, nodding with satisfaction, he quietly exited the tangle of maintenance tubes, and opened the access hatch in Main Engineering- -to find a young Andorian crewman, arm extended towards the hatch, and toolkit in hand. They stared at each other, the crewman hesitantly, Ferentis pleasantly. Crewman: Uh… I was just going to see what the noi- Ferentis closed his eyes, and slowly shook his dozy head one way, and then the other. The crewman was confused. Crewman: But… if there’s a problem I have- Ferentis shook his head again, politely. The Andorian’s antennae sloped forward, twitching. Crewman: So you want me… Ferentis raised his head, as if to indicate the crewman was halfway to the answer. Crewman: …to walk away? Ferentis smiled slightly, and nodded with slow, heavy movements. The crewman stared. Blinked. Puckered zher lips. Crewman: Ooookay… Zhe pivoted on her heel, and walked away stiffly. Ferentis watched her go with relaxed eyes. He climbed out of the tube, shut the hatch, and stood in front of it, hands cradled before him, for a long time. END Ensign Ferentis Engineering Officer As simmed by Captain Randal Shayne Commanding Officer USS Khitomer NCC 62400 G239202RS0 1 Quote
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