Monkeys Never Had It So Good

Posted on Sat 26th Oct, 2019 @ 10:59pm by

874 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: A Diplomatic Affair
Location: Squadron 140 Office/Beck's Quarters
Timeline: MD 6, 1615

"You're fortunate you don't have to go to this thing," Beck said, pushing her desk drawer closed and standing. "It takes me forever to get into that full dress regalia."

"Um," Nordstrom replied, swallowing the last bite of her chocolate bar and licking her fingers. "It's why you have all the responsibility and get paid the big bucks, Captain Beck."

"If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were laughing at me," Rebecca said. "But you'd never be so insubordinate." As she walked out, she threw back over her shoulder, "Just think of the fancy chocolates I'll get to enjoy, and you won't!"

Helena's laughter floated down the corridor after Beck as she headed home to prepare for the late afternoon reception. Full dress uniform, indeed. I suppose this is a momentous occasion ... for someone. The Besm, certainly.

As she entered her quarters a few minutes later, she was thinking of what she knew about the Besm. She'd seen them from a distance, of course, but thus far, there'd been no interaction between the Marines and the protection complement who had arrived with Governor Wildrose. She wondered what their Evening Dress Uniform would look like! Probably much more functional than hers, since she'd heard they were quite serious about their jobs.

Well, why not? she thought, as she removed her work day clothing. Their history goes back to a time of having to fight for their right to exist, let alone thrive.
She'd read the briefing provided by Starfleet to all military on the base. Having seen them now, their hair was the thing that she found most striking. Oh, of course the big eyes, designed to see in the lower light of their native Vega II were startling, at first, but it was the hair that fascinated her. White didn't seem to indicate age, and no particular color seemed to dominate. She'd seen blues, reds, greens and even a few yellows - you couldn't call it blonde, as it bore no resemblance to Terran blonde - in the crowd when the first ship arrived. Two days after that initial meeting, all the colony VIPs were aboard, though there were still many more colonists arriving daily.

Stepping into the shower, Rebecca decided to go for water. She didn't often indulge, but she thought tonight, if she had to wear the dratted evening dress blues, she was going to at least get a hot water shower. As the water beat down on her, she relaxed and enjoyed the feeling, thinking of nothing at all for a few minutes. With a sigh, she smiled as the 5-minute cut-off came, followed by warm drying winds that soon had her dry. Stepping out, feeling relaxed, Beck walked across to the hanger on the wall and gazed at the evening dress blue. Her medal and ribbons were required, on the left side, or she wouldn't have worn them. There would likely be questions she didn't want to answer, but she shrugged that off and began to dress, letting her mind go back to the Besm.

What would it have been like to be one of those female geneticists who were suddenly thrust out of the limelight and back into the kitchen, as it were? Even so, how great would the pressures have to be on her before she thought that stealing a ship from Starfleet and escaping with a boat-load of women and children was a better option? She couldn't really relate to that kind of desperation. She didn't live in that kind of world. What if Starfleet changed over night in a similar way? Would she be desperate enough then?

She stepped into the full length dark blue skirt and fastened it at her waist, over the white shirt, wondering if this uniform had been fundamentally changed in the last hundred years ... or four hundred, for that matter. Would women of the time of the original Besm colonists have recognized this uniform? Wrapping and fastening the red cummerbund, she reflected that at least the frills on the blouse were gone ... most of them. A small strip of ruffled fabric ran down either side of the button placket, but it was bearable to Beck.

She checked the clock and realized more time had passed than she'd thought. Not enough that she had to hurry, but enough that she needed to get moving. Slipping her arms into the dark red-collared jacket that matched the skirt, she wondered idly if generations of women before her would have preferred to wear the men's version of the uniform, with it's elegant cutaway jacked with brass buttons lining the left edge, and a red vest over the white shirt ... with no ruffles! She looked at herself in the mirror. At least she didn't have to wear a red-lined blue cape! With a grin, she slipped her feet into the regulation navy blue pumps which would pinch her toes within an hour.

"Ready to hob and nob with the best of them," she muttered, remembering Helena's description of this regalia as a monkey suit. A slight smile formed as she turned away toward the door. "Monkeys never had it so good."

 

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