Mongrel

Posted on Oct 15, 2015 @ 6:35pm by Ensign Samantha Perry
Edited on on Oct 15, 2015 @ 6:36pm

Mission: Civil War

"MONGREL"

(Continued from "Oversight")

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Location: EARTH
Scene: The Krazy House
Stardate:
Time Index: About a year ago

The club was jumping, or hopping, or whatever the actual phrase was. Either way the base beat pumped through her chest making her heart skip to match it. They’d graduated a couple of weeks ago her from Medical Officer Training, her three friends from Advanced Command Training. They’d dragged her off to celebrate, they’d taken a transporter PADD to somewhere but she hadn’t been paying attention. Instead Sam had been complaining about the waste of resources when there were plenty of night clubs in San Francisco.

It was one of the few things she got off her dad, that need to not be wasteful.

Adrian held his hands out, “welcome to the best club on the planet. “

Sam scoffed, she wasn’t the only one, Miranda and Simon also scowled at him.

“Well you said I can choose and this is where I chose.”

“Whatever Aid, grab us a drink.” They queued and a round of alcohol was bought.

“So Sam.” Adrian grinned. “Time to put your money where your mouth is.”

“That makes no sense.” Samantha answered with a long suffering sigh. “We don’t even use money anymore.”

“Whatever.” Adrian answered, they had to shout just to be heard over the music. “Either way, you’ve been claiming you can pull anyone you want and have never brought anyone back with you sooo….”

The hybrid sighed and then looked around the club. “Who? I mean if you want to make it a challenge then who.”

The group looked around and then Miranda pointed out a Klingon. “Go on.”

“You sure? Vulcans are tougher.” Sam answered a small smile playing across her face; her eyes glinted in the flashing lights.

The three of them nodded. The Klingon was with a group of girls so they’d decided he was either gay or with one of them.

Sam sighed, took a swig of her drink and then sashayed across the dance floor. She had years of dance experience, from various parts of her heritage. Granted the human and Vulcan side was not so dancy, the Trill part of her did a fairly good job but no one danced like an Orion. She glided through the gyrating bodies smoothly. The dancers parted without ever even noticing they were doing it. Her blue skin was florescent in the lights, her Trill spots where dark patches of skin down either side of her body. She tucked a very long strand of black hair behind her ear, bit gently on her matching black lower lip and turned up the pheromones.

A couple of the women looked at her, seemed interested. She smiled, and leaned on the bar in the middle of them. “Hi, buy a girl a drink?” She had no idea if that line worked for anyone else, but fortunately it always worked for her.

“P’lel,” the Klingon gave her his name and a drink at the same time. Slowly over a couple of hours the other women drifted away as Samantha took up his time and attention.

=[]=

Scene: An apartment -> Transporter PAD
TI: Next morning

Sam finished splinting her arm whilst grumbling about her lack of a bone regenerator. Her first aid kit consisted of what she’d found in the Klingons apartment, even she didn’t go clubbing with one. Which now seemed like an oversight she wouldn’t make again. Currently the Hybrid was using the leg of a chair that had somehow broken in the night and some cloth to split it, she had found a hypospray with some pain relief in it that she had used.

The door to the bedroom opened and Samantha looked up at P’Lel.

He looked about as awkward as it was possible for a Klingon to look as he took her in. “Sorry about the arm... I didn’t mean to…”

She shook her head to stop him talking. “No worries, honestly isn’t it only good for you guys if you break something.”

“I think they meant furniture.” The Klingon answered Sam genuinely laughed and then winced.

“So can I call you?” He asked looking nonchalant.

She shook her head. “Sorry I’m leaving Earth tomorrow. It was fun though.”

She left, and got herself to the transporter pad as quickly as she could. It was painful, she had to inject some pain relief twice, and she hated using meds on herself. The looks from people on the street told her she didn’t have her pheromones under control. She needed to sort that out quickly.

The transporter pad was defended by Starfleet personal as normal, she paused on the corner to take a deep breath and try and control herself. She passed by the personnel easily enough, after all anyone could come and go, her three friends were sat in the waiting room.

“Wow, Sam you look awful.”

She allowed a grin to spread across her face and sat down next to Adrian. “you owe me.”

“How do you want it paid?”

Sam considered her answer carefully and decided there wasn’t really anything she wanted so she answered with the groups usual non serious answer. “Kittens”.

=[]=

Scene: Starfleet Academy
TI: The next morning

Sam had fixed her arm over the course of the day using the bone regenerator. A device she probably shouldn’t have but her mother had given her before she left the SIRONA.

She was finishing packing the last of her gear, since her class, and more importantly the four of them where being assigned. The other three already had their ships but Sam was still waiting to find out where she was going. Since she had no assignment she was considering trying to visit her family before heading out. She did have the itching desire to get out there and start her job soon though.

She used to pack light, before the academy she only took what she could carry, but after years of being in one place the stuff had started to accumulate. She had a few boxes now and was considering downsizing.

Her door pinged and she opened it to find a freshman stood looking awkwardly with a basket in her arms, the basket was covered with a blanket. “This is for you.”

Sam raised a black and perfectly manicured eyebrow and took the basket. The blanket moved as the girl scurried off. Sam put it gingerly on top of one of her boxes, and very carefully removed the blanket. A tiny kitten meowed pitifully. Sam scowled, sighed; the thing was black and purple with stripes. It had a tiny black nose and giant almost bat sized ears.

There was a note, hand written, she recognised Adrian’s handwriting. **A gift of a mongrel to a mongrel.**

Sam held the kitten in her hand, Adrian was right, whatever it was, it looked like some kind of hybrid of a bunch of different breeds of cats. She growled and said outloud. “Hybrid.” The tiny ball of fluff in her hand purred and rubbed it’s head against her thumb. “Although I guess technically you are a mongrel.” The beast purred louder and Sam laughed. “Fine, fine, come on mongrel, let’s look after you.” She replicated some food and milk and then started to scan the animal to check it was healthy and see what breed it actually was. Her computer terminal beeped and she moved to it, it was a simple message. [[Report to the USS DEMETER immediately.]] There were some papers attached and directions. She grinned. Finally, her first real assignment.

=[/\]=

Location: USS PHOENIX
Scene: Various

Izzy waited outside the doors to the conference room. Aerdan had work to do and the Andorian left with a nod but she was bored. Bored on the Pendragon, bored here. She sighed and leaned against a wall and then quickly came to attention when most of the delegates of the conference filed out of the room.

It wasn’t too much longer when Peter appeared and started them walking down to the shuttle bay. They’d come over on a shuttle, mostly because Peter had wanted to fly them.

“50 ships.” He muttered.

“So we can safely say we’ve changed the past then.” Izzy answered. “We haven’t stepped on a butterfly have we?”

“You were already born at this point, no parents have been damaged.” Peter joked. They were referring to a conversation they had had twenty years in the future. Izzy shook her head, time travel still confused her.

“50 ships.” Izzy echoed his previous words, and the two of them laughed. No one else would have got the joke but they shared a sense of humour grown over the last 20 years of working together.

It wasn’t until they were in the shuttle Peter began talking. “Secretaries P'Trell and Sardak want to be elected to president and vice- president of the Federation.”

Izzy was quiet for an unusually long time as the shuttle left the bay of the PHOENIX. “What does that mean to us?”

“Us or the fleet of 50 ships?” Peter answered with a question.

Izzy looked across at him, her captain seemed intent on the controls as she flickered through colours. She finally settled on a pale blue, calm and unemotional. A trick one of the Vulcan’s had taught her, she could hold it for maybe five minutes. She really wasn’t a Vulcan.

“It doesn’t seem right not having an election.” Her captain finally spoke into the silence.

Izzy nodded. “Maybe we won’t have to give the party line to the crew.”

Peter looked at her sideways and she giggled, the pale blue disappearing in a flash of bright purple.

*****

NRPG:

Eh I wrote a thing, look, a thing!

Joy Phillips

Dr Samantha L’vor Vessovus Isoh Perry
USS DEMETER

And

Izshlana Vort
XO
USS PENDRAGON