USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

<< Outpost 8013 - 23-Jan-2394, 0454 hrs >>

Elle had not slept in nearly thirty-seven hours. The days following the New York's narrow escape from the Cardassian hold-out sect had been interesting to say the least. Events seemed to have progressed quickly, yet time had since felt torpid. Elle felt as though the minutes were moving at a glacial pace, if at all. She had been placed "on leave" until such time as Captain Wright could properly arrange her disciplinary hearing, and until such time as the repairs to the New York could be completed. The Nebula-class starship had sustained some serious damage, and they were, in Captain Wright's own words, "Lucky to be alive."

"Not a problem. You're welcome," Elle had said — but definitely should not have said.

Maybe that comment had been the last straw?

"What the Hell is wrong with me?" Elle said quietly to herself.

She looked around the otherwise empty turbolift. She didn't recognize the outpost architecture, and because of that, she could already hear her mother's voice inside her head — in "professor mode", lecturing Elle about how not knowing every conceivable thing ever was a direct result of shirking her studies. Even the (manual?) turbolift controls appeared antiquated.

Elle sighed. She would have to look into it. Thanks for the homework assignment, Mother.

Then she started rubbing her eyes. Again. Stupid eyelash. Sure, she could shrug off a knee to the ribs while sparring, but when standing in a turbolift, worried that she'd be drummed out of Starfleet, she was letting a little eye irritation bother her? Why hadn't they moved yet?

"Observation Deck please," Elle said. Silence. They started moving. Finally. She rubbed her eyes again. Her left eye was starting to twitch a bit, and so she squeezed both eyes shut. Then the turbolift lurched to a halt. There already? Was someone else getting on? Who else is awake at this hour? She opened her eyes... but there was no one.

"Hello, get going please."

Nothing...

Nothing! For the love of — how did the builders of this outpost ever achieve spaceflight?

Elle's eyes darted about — there. You see, Mother. My semiotics courses came in handy after all, haha. That was almost certainly an emergency comm button, which she would now press calmly. Instead, of course, Elle started angrily pounding any and all buttons within reach. She may have raised her voice a little too. "Hello? Hello!"

And today, "Get moving," raising her voice "a little" may have also meant yelling, "Now!"

Where's a phaser when you need it? "Hello! HELLO, COMPUTER!"

****

Douglas tapped the old-fashioned keypad and waited impatiently for the lift to open. When it didn't after a moment, he tapped his badge. "Kinkaid to Ops. I'm at Turbolift Six-One and it's not responding."

After a moment of silence, he received a response from Ensign Marris, "I'm sorry, sir. We don't show a problem up here." Cade grimaced at the news. It meant the sensors had failed again. To be fair, the sensors in Six-One hadn't failed since he'd arrived on the station. That was relatively good news, he supposed. "I'll get a team out to fix it in the morning."

Cade shook his head. "Don't worry, ensign. I'm here. If I can fix it I will, otherwise I'll send it to engineering." Pulling open the control panel, he proceeded to rearrange wires until the panel beeped and the door slid open revealing — He stood, looking into the lift at the unexpected passenger. She was a giant, like some old Norse goddess from legend. "Oh. Uh, hi." He gave the woman a wan smile. He realized he wasn't wearing his uniform and offered a hand. "I'm — Douglas Kinkaid. Chief of Ops here on the station."

Elle gasped in surprise, as the turbolift doors opened suddenly. She reared a fist back, ready to throw a punch at the man in front of her. Instead... she winked. Damned eyelash. She unclenched her fist, and brought the same hand up to rub her eye. "I... I'm sorry, I think I have something in my eye. It was bothering me before, already. I wasn't... um, you know. Trying to... um." Say it. To wink. "To punch you."

"I, ah," he grinned, scratching at his jaw, "I appreciate that."

Elle sighed, and opened her eye again. Her vision was a bit blurry for a moment, but it resolved into focus in time for her to notice the man's salt-and-pepper stubble. The corner of her mouth curled up a bit, into a lopsided half-smile, without her realizing it. However, she did realize that she had now been staring down at his chin for too long.

Elle looked up suddenly, and made unblinking eye contact as she spoke. "I'm Elle, though that's not my real name." Why would you even say that? "Most people can't pronounce my first name." Better. "Pleased to meet you, Chief of Ops... and thanks. Really, thank you. I don't know if you could tell, but I was about to hit Warp factor nine in here." Elle grabbed Douglas Kinkaid's hand and shook it (too) vigorously, as she started to laugh. "Maybe ten."

"Yeah," he agreed, looking at the lift. "That happens more than I'd like on 8013. The station's old and its systems aren't all what you'd call Starfleet compatible." He looked the woman up and down again. She was tall. "So, uh Elle?" He wasn't sure what to say. He felt as though there was something he should say, but nothing came to mind. Nothing but, "Why're you here?" Why're you here? He might as well have asked why earth had a moon. "On the station, I mean." Much better, he thought sarcastically.

In answer, for whatever reason, Elle really fought hard to tell the truth. As much of it as she could muster, and as clearly as she could convey. Chief Kinkaid had... sincere eyes. "Sightseeing." Elle laughed. She knew that regardless of what she wound up saying, she wouldn't have been able to keep a straight face. "What I mean is, I wanted to see the damage from the outside. I was headed up to the Observation Deck. That's my ship out there getting patched up. Well, not mine, per se. I fly it though." Elle sighed, that was basically the truth. Progress?

"I know it looks like I dragged it through an ion storm, but my biographer will someday say I was the finest helmsman in the four quadrants." Okay, tone it down. "But I made sure to get us shot at several times, so that it would fit right in with your busted turbolifts." Yikes. Elle's eyes widened. "Oh. I... um, I'm sorry, Chief Kincaid. I wasn't trying to insult the outpost or anything, I... um, can't quite quit while I'm ahead, huh? 'Conduct unbecoming' is becoming my M.O. — haha. And not haha as in I'm laughing at the outpost, of course.... I'm going to stop talking now."

Elle took a deep breath, pursed her lips, and stood in silence.... Yet that only made her feel even more awkward. "Why are you here?" She asked suddenly. "I mean, where were you going? Just now? Chief. Kinkaid. Chief Kinkaid. Sir."

A bemused expression played aross Kinkaid's face. "First, call me Cade. We're off duty. Second," he lifted two fingers, "you're not saying everything Engineering and Ops hasn't thought a dozen times before. You're just a bit more open about it." The smile became an outright grin. Cade lifted a third finger. "And finally, don't worry about telling me your mind. I mean," he shrugged, "use some discretion as to when maybe, but otherwise, I can't do my job effectively."

He paused,"As for where I'm going, well, it's late. I was headed back to my quarters." He hesitated. She seemed to be having a rough day. "But I suppose... care to join me for a drink? There's a Bolian bar on Deck 17 that serves a pretty fantastic array of teas and coffees if you're into that sorta thing."

Elle was now smiling broadly, "You know, once upon a time, I was up to ten cups a day! Back when I first switched shifts. I needed it too. I hate the morning."

Yet it was practically morning already. More than anything, Elle needed to sleep. There was absolutely no way she should have any caffeine right now, but — "I'd love some coffee, sir." But his grin was contagious. "I mean, Chief Kin— I mean... Cade."

OFF:
JOINT POST by:

Ensign Saoirse "Elle" Quinn
Flight Control Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

and

[[Outpost 8013 - 24-Jan-2394, 2117]]

Douglas stood in a training gi on the holodeck facing off against a diminutive green creature with long ears and sparse, white hair. It watched him patiently through heavily-lidded eyes. He looked half-asleep. Lucky bastard. Douglas had been hadn't slept in two days. He rarely suffered difficulty sleeping. But the girl he'd met the previous morning, Elle... every time he closed his eyes he found himself thinking of her. It bothered him and he wasn't sure why. He told himself it was her size - she dwarfed him - but something inside told him that wasn't it.

The wizened creature suddenly snapped forward, leaping with speed and agility belying his otherwise advanced age. The short wooden staff in his hands carried enough force that it would have easily shattered Cade's bones had it struck. Fortunately he wasn't so lost in thought that he failed to see it coming. Even so he didn't have time to side-step, merely bring up his own weapon to deflect the blow. The strike reverberated through his hands and arms painfully. "Nothing, your mind is on," the ancient said. He had a high-pitched, yet somehow gravely voice. "Go, you must. Here with me you are not.." The martial arts master made a dismissive gesture with one hand but didn't turn away. Instead he continued to watch Cade to see if the lesson had sunk in. That this was his way, his method of teaching. "On the present your mind should be." The master nodded with a wordless sound of self-agreement.

"I am sorry, Master Yoda." Kinkaid took a deep breath trying to center himself. Fictional though the creature might have been - the creation of a late-twentieth century artistic genius - he was also very insightful. It was one of the reasons Cade appreciated this particular program. He could practice his skills with the bo and receive advice simultaneously. "I encountered someone yesterday that I haven't been able to get off my mind." He spun his staff in a quick circle before him, creating an impromptu shield, then broke the twirl to attack his opponent. He came nowhere near - it was as if the ancient creature had sensed his actions before he'd even made them. The staff struck empty space where the ancient had been standing mere seconds before.

"Control," Yoda replied. "Control. You must learn control." He whipped his own stick in a sharp circle aiming at Cade's head, but this time the human easily side-stepped the blow. "Here," he finished, "and inside both. Hmm?" The green alien nodded sagely. He stopped moving to lean on his staff, staring at Cade through those large, tired eyes of his. "Otherwise master of nothing you are."

"Easy for you to say," Cade replied, lashing out once more with his weapon. The two sparred for a moment before separating, the master with a flourish. Cade was breathing heavily. It felt good. "You're a program."

Yoda laughed dismissively. "Programs all are," he insisted, moving forward on stubby feet. He walked as if he could barely support his own weight. When he reached Cade, he reached out with his walking stick and poked the human with it. "Some just refuse to see." He stepped back once more. Again the two battled. Again Yoda made it look easy. When a break in the combat came the master asked, "Why of such interest, this person?"

Cracking his neck with one hand, Cade shook his head. "I'm not sure, Master. A few reasons? I'm not sure."

"Focus on what you can see, you should." The ancient creature chuckled. "Matters not, what you cannot see clearly, hmm?" The alien nodded. "Too far away to be of concern it is. Be mindful of there here," he leaned forward, poked Cade in the chest again, "now."