Administrivia

Posted on Thu 2nd Mar, 2017 @ 11:51am by Colonel Horatio Drake

909 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Wrongs Darker Than Death Or Night
Location: Deck 666, Pearl With a Chainsaw

Chlamydia Addams was officially off duty. Instead of her uniform, she wore a backless slip dress of the nearly-black shade of purple the Japanese called kon, over a high necked bodysuit made of spiderweb lace embellished seemingly at random with tiny bats and skulls. She was seated alone at a table for two beside the railing lining the open area which overlooked the miniature Asian garden, and the tiny stage on which a pair of white-haired women played music in a pentatonic scale. Addams looked up as the hostess, a young woman with almost neon-orange hair, approached. "Ah, Colonel," Addams said, picking up the teapot from the table. "Would you care for some tea? It's Gunpowder Oolong."

"Thank you, yes" He replied, briefly hesitating at the ponderance of what the gunpowder meant.

Pulling out the chair opposite the Chief Medical Officer, he sat, letting out a loud sigh and placing the stack of PADDS that he couldn't be seen without these days, onto the table top. This sort of meeting simply wouldn't happen on a starship, rather it would have probably taken place in Addams' office or Drake's ready room. This shift in culture and social norms had made Drake uneasy during his first few months on the station. He felt that it was somewhat unprofessional. He had, however, come to now think differently and made himself comfortable.

"Doctor, the administration work on this station never seems to stop." He grinned as Addams finished pouring his tea.

"Indeed," Addams responded dryly. "I used to be a physician; now I am largely an administrator." She set the teapot down, and glanced below at the statue of the Enlightened Master Kong.

"So, have you finished your analysis of our upcoming guests? Any special medical needs and the like?" He picked up his cup and took in a deep breath... sweet notes of honey and fruit hit his nose. The only oolong tea he had previously had was rather woody and thick with more roasted aromas.

"I have," Addams agreed, picking up her own cup. "They are, like Terrestrial Cetaceans, actually aquatic mammals. Or semi-aquatic, at any rate; development of technology is orders of magnitude more difficult if you are actually bound to the water as Cetaceans are." She flicked her fingers, dismissing the argument. "They require sufficient water to keep their skins moist, and that water must contain particular salts to keep the dermis from chelating and sloughing. I've passed the list of the requisite salts to the life support division." She took a sip of her tea.

"I see" He momentarily glanced into the centre of the garden area. The deflection was an attempt at concealment of only understanding half of what had just been told to him. However, the beauty of the garden struck him for a moment and the pause became slightly longer.

"I'm sorry Doctor, this place is quite extraordinary"

"Is it not?" Addams asked. "It is maintained by..." she trailed off as a waitress with long, silken white hair approached.

"Good evening, good gentles," she said. "Would you like to order, or do you need more time to consider the menu?"

Drake hadn't even looked at the menu yet, but wasn't too hungry. "Ah... just something small I think? What are you having, Doctor?"

"I believe I'll have the Married Couple's Sliced Lungs," Addams said. "With the fried rice, if you please."

"Yes, ma'am," the Waitress answered, and smiled at the Colonel. "If you're just looking for something light, we have an excellent sushi chef. Would you like me to bring you the sushi menu?"

"Ah, what a brilliant idea. No need for a menu, some salmon sushi would be perfect." He smiled and thanked her as she moved onto another table.

"Are they especially susceptible to any forms of toxins or poisons? Perhaps ones that might be easily administered, undetected, in food for example?" Drake took another sip.

Addams waggled her hand back and forth. "Not in the water, as they don't actually ingest the water in which they swim. As for food... nothing fast-acting that wouldn't affect both delegations and the neutral parties equally." The doctor paused. "I must confess, I don't actually understand the purpose of these negotiations. What are the two parties wishing to accomplish?"

Drake sighed, more audibly than originally intended. "To be honest, Doctor... I'm not entirely sure myself. The talks are more between the Emorites and the Federation regarding their potential application to join. They have requested that the Caliburnites host and act as intermediaries - but, not having the resources to do so, they have asked the Federation to host. So, to my mind, they have no reason to be here - it's just making everything more complicated!" He rubbed his eye.

"Forgive me, Doctor, I am exhausted... these past few days have granted me very little sleep. If it's all the same to you I might just read your report upon it's completion and retreat to my quarters?" He wondered if they would make his sushi to go, then disregarded it - he wasn't hungry anyway.

"Of course," the Doctor said, waving a hand dismissively. "Self care is the highest priority. I can prescribe you something to help you sleep?"

"An offer I might take you up on... but, for now, I think just getting to my bed would be a good start!" He gathered up his PADDS and with a smile and wave, retreated.

 

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