The Adventures of Captain Smooshy, Counselor Extraordinaire

Posted on May 08, 2015 @ 1:47am by Selyara Chen & Ensign Chaucer
Edited on on May 08, 2015 @ 1:48am

Mission: The Lights of Hyperion

"The Adventures of Captain Smooshy, Counselor Extraordinaire, or: The tyrrany of pugs."
(Cont. "The False Promise of Safety.")

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"Dogs are better than human beings because they know but do not tell." - Emily Dickenson
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Location: USS PHOENIX
Stardate: 2.150507.2100
Scene: Counseling offices

“Wait, come over here! Don’t let her see you!” Owen hissed and grabbed Eve’s arm, dragging her to the side of the wall. They inched over to the door of his office and he gestured inside.

Eve gave him a quizzical look and poked her head around the door. Selyara was lounging on the couch nose to nose with Captain Smooshy, who was sitting upright at attention on the couch arm, curly tail wagging languidly.

“She’s been here for two hours,” the Trill whispered to Eve, “I guess the Captain sent her down here, and I tried to talk to her, but… Well she’s really good at seeming like she’s holding a conversation with you, but when you strip it down you realize that she’s just speaking in trite cliches and saying what she thinks you want to hear, and we weren’t getting anywhere. Then Captain Smooshy came in after his therapy session with that girl from the science department, and well… Look.”

“Captain Smooshy? That’s a very undignified name for as dignified a fellow as you,” the woman was saying to the dog, a very serious expression on her face as she gently stroked his head. She paused. “Well I suppose as long as you don’t mind it, little one, that’s all that matters. Well yes, I suppose Counselor Arion is a very nice man. Yes, it is very nice to have someone like that.”

“I think she’s talking to him, you know, telepathically,” Owen scrubbed his hands through his hair, making him look adorably rumpled. “Though I can’t imagine what a dog’s thoughts are like. Judging from the way she’s talking to him, I’m imagining that it’s more emotional? Anyway, she’s… More natural with him.”

“Well no, I don’t have someone like that. I guess there's my da, but it's not safe for him to be part of my life anymore. I don’t need someone like that anyway,” Selyara looked almost wistful. “Very few people are like your pet, little one. Mostly people are very selfish, and won’t help you unless you have something they want. Count yourself very lucky.”

The pug barked and huffed wetly, performing a bounce on the chair arm and butted the Criminal Mastermind’s hand with a little chuff.

“Alright, alright you tyrant, I’ll keep petting you,” Selyara muttered. “And I am not lonely or sad for your information. I most certainly do not need a Counselor Arion of my own. I should think I know what I am feeling better than you! Well that makes absolutely no sense. If I do not perceive what I am feeling as loneliness or sadness, than I am not sad or lonely. It is all about perception.”

The pug made a snide snorting noise, hopped onto the ground and grabbed a firm hold of her shoe and pulled. When she didn't react quickly enough the dog leapt back onto the couch and up onto the back and used his head to push her shoulders. She took the hint and stood. The self satisfied pug nipped at her heels and herded her towards the door, pausing only to turn and give the Trill a significant look and a staccato yip.

"Smooshy says he's got things under control," Owen said, looking amused. "Really, I don't know why I come in at all, I should just have him take all my appointments."

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Scene: The Vulgar Tribble

Dido Loftus-Arn was alone.

Less than a day a wife, she would be a widow forever.

John Doe, Sneekum and Roger Van Horne had made hurried exits on the pretext of assisting with refugees, but Dido knew it was because they didn't know how to assuage her grief.

It was not something fixable, this grief, they couldn't patch her up and make her whole, nor was there a balm to sooth her ache and dull the pain. Helpless, they made themselves scarce, rather than spend their time tiptoeing uncomfortably around her and her sorrow.

The absence of chatter, of normality, of life continuing on around her only served to pull her deeper inside herself, dwelling on last moments with Solomon, she felt as though she could only live in the past, as though there was no future. Certainly no future that she had ever envisioned. Before, Solomon had been there, a steady anchor for whatever plans she made, and now like a ghost ship she was cast to sea on hostile waters.

The door to the lounge opened to admit a small dog, Lieutenant Smooshy. She remembered the Trill counselor introducing himself and the pug, though at some point the dog had acquired a few new rank pips. The dog turned to bark at someone in the hall, an unmistakably impatient bark, and a moment later he was followed by a tall, lean, sinister looking Vulcan woman, festooned with heavy black tattoos that only served to make her more menacing. The woman stared at Dido for a long moment, pupil-less moss green eyes alien and remote, and Dido suppressed a shudder. Even for a Vulcan there was something cold about her, and those odd eyes...

The pug trotted behind the woman and head butted her leg none too gently. The woman looked down at the dog and back at Dido with what could only be described as sudden trepidation. She moved forward and sat down in front of Dido, and the pug followed, leaping onto the couch and then hopping up onto the tabletop to sit like a centerpiece between the two women. He sneezed impatiently and sidled up to Dido, leaning up against her chest and looking expectantly at the fearsome woman.

“Are you alright,” The woman asked in a mechanical manner. “You seem upset. Would you like to talk about it.”

“I don’t think you’d understand,” Dido said softly, petting the pug gently. He was so silky soft, especially his ears, and she found the warmth and the weight of him comforting, like sitting under the blankets on a rainy day with a cup of tea. “You’re a Vulcan.”

“What I am is irrelevant, you need someone to just sit and listen to you, and not try to interject with well meaning suggestions. You want someone to just listen to how you feel. At least, that’s what he says, ” the fearsome woman flicked her fingers in the pug’s direction and smiled slightly, “and it seems I am his dogsbody for the day.”

An odd Vulcan to be sure, but then again, Vulcans were not a monolithic culture. Although they very much ascribed to the axiom from Earth’s ancient Japan that ‘nail that sticks out gets hammered’ there was no way to fully stamp out individuality.

"You're that Selyara woman," Dido put two and two together. "My husband died today because of you."

Selyara blinked slowly, absorbing that information, but her face was impassive, her eyes staring out at Dido soullessly. She was about to say something, but Captain Smooshy let loose a sharp warning yip and she instead turned her palms upwards and shrugged callously.

Dido felt anger rising in her chest, overwhelming her hurt and pain, and she unleashed it at the woman in front of her, a barrage of her helpless rage at the unfairness of the universe that would take Solomon away from her to somehow save the life of this cold, monster of a woman.

"Solomon never hurt a living soul, he was gentle, he was kind, and Arn was wise and patient. Two beings died today, both of whom I loved, and for what? To save a traitor so we could beg you to act like a decent person and do what you would be doing anyway if you had any soul left? Why did I have to give up the rest of my life so you could sit there like a spider in the middle of its web? Solomon loved everyone, I don't think you love anyone but yourself," Dido railed against the unjustness, and Selyara bent like a reed under the onslaught as though none of Dido's words had left a mark.

"I'm sorry," the alien woman said softly. Dido searched her face, but couldn’t decide whether there was any sincerity behind it. “But you must understand that I did not want anyone to come after me, and- OUCH!”

Whatever Selyara had been about to say, it was halted by a nip on her wrist by Captain Smooshy. She stared down at the dog with a thunderous expression and the little creature, undaunted, butted his head against her arm and held it there for a moment. The expression on her face slowly relented, and she let out a deep sigh.

“What I mean to say is, Mrs Arn is that I am truly sorry for your loss. Your husband helped to save my life, if what I’ve been told is correct, and Kane thought highly of him.”

“He was a good man,” Dido said, the tears welling up in her eyes. It was like a dam burst and she found herself tripping over her words, remembering happy times and things that had happened, before she ran out of steam. “If you had any sense you'd spend the rest of your life balancing the book, and making his sacrifice worthwhile."

Dido trailed off, and looked up to realize that the half Vulcan had stood and was backing away, an odd look on her face, like some barely remembered emotio. Captain Smooshy turned and licked the tears from Dido’s face, his curled tail waving like a banner. She blew her nose and buried it in the dog’s fur. His tongue insinuated itself into her ear, and a surprised laugh broke free in spite of herself. The pug gave a joyful huff, and chased his tail, clowning around until she had to smile. Smooshy seemed satisfied at that, and made a courtly bow, to her, before turning to follow his rapidly absconding assistant.

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Scene: The Refugee Camps

Chaucer was captivated by the minute alien creature. He wondered what sort of creature it was, what world it hailed from. It was evidently a very important being, for it had four rank pips on the collar of its uniform, identifying it as the captain of the ship. It even had its own bodyguard, a tall, dark haired Vulcan woman, whom the tiny being appeared to be bossing around, keeping her busy providing information to anxious refugees and maintaining order in the lines as other Starfleet personnel handed out supplies under the watchful eye of a handful of Marines.

The diminutive Captain made eye contact with Chaucer, and trotted over, making a raucous, gruff speech that the Gorn could not understand. The Gorn tensed, hoping he hadn’t done something to offend the creature. The tiny captain came to a stop in front of Chaucer, and settled down onto its haunches to stare up at the Gorn with large, glassy eyes. Its mouth dropped open, and a flat, pink tongue lolled out to one side.

Chaucer stood rigid, hoping to make a good first impression. The creature did not introduce itself, and so Chaucer was left with few options. He went with the one that made the most sense.

[[My name is Chaucer.]]

The tiny captain snuffed and continued to stare up at him. Chaucer assumed that there was some part of the greeting ritual he had missed, something else he was expected to say to complete his half of the introduction. Of course he couldn’t say it, whatever it was, and so the large Gorn was left with no choice but to repeat his one and only greeting.

[[My name is Chaucer.]]

The tiny captain said something that Chaucer could not understand, something that sounded like a hairy scream. It startled the Gorn, but he stood his ground. The tiny captain resumed its open-mouthed, tongue-lolling expression. Clearly at a conversational impasse, Chaucer did the only thing he could in situations like this: he mirrored the tiny captain’s facial expression as best he could.

His tongue was not so flat or pink, but he must have been doing a good job, because the tiny captain repeated its sharp proclamation and got back to all-fours. With a final snort, it trotted down the row, occasionally stopping to inspect a refugees luggage or outstretched hand. Chaucer put his tongue away and watched the little creature go. He made note of how many refugees offered the tiny captain small morsels of food. They had so little to spare, and they were giving it to the tiny captain… clearly an attempt to build favor with their new Federation hosts. Chaucer made note of this; when the trouble started, he wanted to be sure he was on the right side.



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Scene: Refugee Camp

“Please can you help me, I- Wait! Mister, miss, would you-” the young girl said, trying to catch the attention of the looming figures of the grown up refugees as the jostled around her, trying to stake out their piece of turf in the cargo bay. She’d been one of the last few people to make it on board the ship before they’d closed the doors. The countdown was nearly over, and the scary men in black armor had been getting fidgety when her mother had leaned down and taken her by the shoulders, shoving the small bag that contained their worldly possessions and savings into her hands.

“Take this sweetie, ok? And then I want you to squeeze through the crowd and get into the ship,” Her mother said very sternly. “I’ll follow you, but I want you to get on board quickly, OK? And once you’re on, you should find someone to help you. Do you see that symbol painted near the door? Anyone wearing a piece of jewelry like that is safe, and will help you. Do you understand me, Buttercup?”

Buttercup had nodded, and her mother kissed her forehead.

“Good girl. Don’t forget I love you, baby. Now get onboard,” her mom said, tears in her eyes. Buttercup didn’t understand why her mother was crying, but she did what she was told anyway, squeezing through the arms and legs of the other people waiting to get on the ship, and then she was on. She felt the engines surging, saw LIMBO getting smaller in the opening of the cargobay, but she couldn’t find her mother anywhere. She’d been searching for what seemed like forever, when she finally saw a small furry creature wearing a uniform, a pin that looked like the symbol her mother had shown her on its chest.

“Hey, Mister… Can you help me?” She knelt down and said politely, looking the fuzzy creature in the eye. The creature made a gruff grunt, and approached her, its tail waving. It cocked it’s head at her, and then gave her nose a lick. Buttercup did her best not to wipe her face, she didn’t want to offend it, and politely leaned forward and returned the gesture. The creature looked surprised, and bounced backwards.

“...What on earth are you doing?” A woman’s voice said from behind her. Buttercup turned around to look at a very tall, scary looking woman who had come up behind, her, a clear box with a few ration packs, a sleeping roll, and water in her hands. Buttercup quaked.

The small creature ran up to the scary woman and circled her ankles as though to show Buttercup she was OK. The woman put down her box and knelt to look into Buttercup’s eyes

“He’s a dog, his name is Captain Smooshy,” The woman said, “he’s a companion animal, a very smart one, but he is a pet. We say hello to him by petting him like this. My name is Selyara, what’s yours?”

“Buttercup,” Buttercup said, looking at her feet. She didn’t like the woman, she felt wrong, somehow. Like she was empty. But the woman didn’t seem to be hostile, just entirely disinterested.

“How old are you?” Selyara asked, her voice slightly kinder.

“Seven,” Buttercup said, scuffing the toe of her red shoe on the ground.

“And why do you need assistance?”

“I can’t find my momma. We were waiting in line and it was getting really close to the time we had to go, so she told me to go on ahead so we could get a good spot, and that she’d come and find me when she got in,” Buttercup’s words started to jumble together and she stopped and took a deep breath just like her momma had always told her to “I’ve been looking for a long time, and I can’t find her.”

“Ahhhh,” Selyara glanced at Captain Smooshy, who made an exasperated noise like the one her mother made when Buttercup didn’t remember her manners “Well then, why don’t the Captain and I help you. Perhaps she is in a different bay.”

She turned and walked to an enormous man with a large gun and said a few words to him, gesturing towards Buttercup.

“We can’t afford an escort, Ma’am,” the man said. “Believe me, I feel for the little tyke, but it’s dangerous, we’ll be going to the other bays in the next couple hours-”

“I’m dangerous, Mister Bellecotte, if you haven’t forgotten. Don’t worry. I will be able to handle any problems we encounter. Providing you’ve not got your heart set on everyone arriving at our destination with fully functional brains.”

“You scare the hell outta me, lady. Fine. I’ll give you authorization to enter the other holding areas. Try not to turn too many of them into vegetables, please. If you find any more unaccompanied minors, bring ‘em out with you, okay? This ain’t gonna be much of a place for children alone once everyone settles down.”

“And where should I bring them?” The tone in her voice indicated that this was a large burden. Captain Smooshy left Buttercup’s side and walked over to bark and nudge Selyara’s leg. “Captain Smooshy says he thinks that it would be best to give them to ‘ little the red one that barks a lot’ he seems to think that she’d be happy to help.”

Mister Bellecotte laughed. He had a very nice laugh, and Buttercup decided that he was not as scary as he’d appeared at first glance.

“The little red one that barks a lot? I know exactly who that is, but you’d better not use that description when you talk to her, unless you want her to bark at you,” he said, still stifling his amusement. “Take her to the Marine Barracks then, I guess. Safest place for them on the ship, and the only place with bunk beds. The Major is grounded for a bit until the engineers fix her sensor nets, and she loves kids. At the very least it’ll soothe the savage beastie for a while and keep her swearing down to humane levels. Give us a respite from the inevitable drilling us until we drop too. The woman’s a very cranky healer,” he walked over to Buttercup and smiled kindly as he whispered conspiratorially. “If for some reason you don’t find your mom tonight, when you see Major Thytos, tell her I promised you whatever you wanted from the replicator dessert menu.”

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Scene: Marine Barracks

Time Index: Several hours later

Buttercup was very tired. They hadn’t found her mother, but they had found several other children who had been similarly separated from their parents. All of them were either reunited with their family, or found relatives or family friends that would take them in.

All except Buttercup.

Selyara had tried her best to be reassuring, but failed fairly spectacularly, there was a sufficient lack of conviction or warmth to her assurances to convince Buttercup.

So here they were. Selyara pushed Buttercup in through the door. A small redheaded woman, was sitting at one of the tables that dotted the main room of the barracks with an enormous bearded man. She had a large tactical padd and was gesturing at some sort of spec on the screen.

“What about the gym and the Marine cargo holding area? We ain’t got any weaponry or fancy gadgets to speak of in there, and that would allow us to give em two rooms, it ain’t as big as one of the cargo bays, but it’s something’ at least. Plus there’ll always be one of us Marine’s in the Barracks anyway, we can wire some emergency warnin’s and force fields up, and all the Marine stuff is gene locked anyway. We just gotta lock up the Security department, we can activate the ship’s internal defense systems,” the redhead was saying to the larger man, who nodded. He looked up rather jumpily as he saw Buttercup and Selyara standing in the doorway.

Captain Smooshy nudged Buttercup forward, and barked quickly. The small redhead turned towards them, and Buttercup could see there was something wrong with her eyes.

“Pardon me, Major,” Selyara pushed Buttercup closer. “But I’ve got a human child here, I’m afraid she got separated from her mother, and we have had no luck in finding her on the ship so far.”

“Ahhhh,” the tone in the Major’s voice was exactly the same as Selyara’s when Buttercup had first explained her plight. “You’ve brought her here… Because?”

“Because Mister Bellecotte indicated that you might be okay with taking charge of the little one.”

The big man with her shot a look at the little redhead which even Buttercup could tell was one of extreme doubt, but the Major surprisingly smiled, and gestured her over.

“Alright. What’s your name, kiddo?” Her voice was no longer gruff.

“Buttercup.” Buttercup said shyly.

“That’s a nice name. I’m called Kass, which ain’t nearly as nice, but it’s my own,” Kass extended her hand to the side, and Buttercup politely moved over to take her hand. “Hey, Jacen, you were sayin’ somethin’ about needing a way to convince Captain Kane that we need a safe zone for people? Well, I think Miss Buttercup is our ace in the hole. He’d have to be a hard man to resist an or- horribly cute kiddo. How are you at cryin’ on command, Buttercup?”

“Well, if that’s it, then I’ll just be off…” Selyara said, about to move off without a backwards glance.

“Wait a minute, you’re Selyara, aren’t’chya?” Kassandra said suddenly.

“Yes…”

“I know your Da, think I may even have met you once, he took care of my Twins whilst I was gettin’ back on my feet. He’s a good man, a very good man. I was going to have them put up for adoption when my sister died, but he convinced me to clean up my act, and took care of ‘em until I was able to do that. Probably saved my life. It was about 19 years ago.”

“Asta and Lysander.”

“Just so. Anyway, as I said, a good man, and I know he taught you how to be a good person. I know you got a choice to make now, and I just want to say, well, think about what yer da would tell you to do, and I know you’ll come up with the right decision,” Kassandra stood and turned around to Buttercup. “I can’t see you right now, but if you come over here, I’ll give you a piggyback ride up to meet Captain Kane, and then I bet Mister Bellecotte promised you free reign of the desert menu, right? So we’ll get you dinner, you’ll eat all your veggies, and your dessert, then you can pick your very own bed in the barracks, and you’ll take a nap, cos I can see you’re plain old tuckered out, and I’ll try to see if we can’t get a little message out to your ma, OK?”

Captain Smooshy barked happily and herded the Selyara lady out of the door.

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Scene: Counseling offices.

“I see you’ve brought my dog back,” Owen said with a smile as the half Vulcan woman walked into the offices. She didn’t look particularly amused.

“It’s more that he brought me back, if I am honest. You have quite the willful pet,” Selyara sniffed, though it was without real rancor. “He wants a treat and a belly rub, or he says that he’s not going to let you know the counseling session is over.”

“That sounds about right. You’re talking to him telepathically, right? What’s talking to a dog like?”

“Not like a human, they don’t have words. It’s more like an impression of the idea they’re trying to convey, far more a series of emotional phrases,” Selyara shrugged. “Hard to explain to a non telepath. Where are his treats.”

Owen gestured, and she took a couple and sat down on his couch. Captain Smooshy lept up on her lap and begged for the treats, and she obliged. Hunger sated, he rolled onto his back and demanded belly rubs.

“Well I do not want a nap. I’m half Vulcan. I could go two weeks without sleeping if I wanted to, and it’s only been four days,” she told the dog, who cooed and grumbled happily. She kept petting him, and soon her own eyes began to grow heavy, and soon she was asleep. Captain Smooshy rolled back onto his paws, and gave Owen what could only be termed a triumphant glance.


“Well, I guess you’ve had quite the adventure today, haven’t you, Smooshy,” Owen shook his head. “Wish you could tell me all about it.”

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NRPG: A fluff post in all senses of the word!

Alix Fowler

as:

Selyara
Everyone's current project

and

Kassandra Thytos
The little red one that barks a lot