IKC FHew 7C6110
In the belly of the Whale – Contention
by Soghla' Marie St. Helene & Eredh Hay'legh
Post Details
Hay’Legh slid quickly down the ladder, ignoring the guttural cursing of the Klingon Beq who she had pushed in front of. Ro’ Malth had retired to drink in his cabin and Hay’Legh was going to take this opportunity to have a ‘little chat’ with the F’Hew’s outspoken Quartermaster.
As soon as her feet hit the cargo decking, the Rihannsu turned and stalked through the cargo hold. “St Helene, I need to see you NOW.”
Marie stood surveying the sorry excuse for storage which surrounded her. At least she had light now but that just made the problem worse – now she could see the stupidity in all its glory. Crates were balanced – to use the term in a very loose sense – on top of boxes half their size; piles teetered at alarming angles; items lay loosely on the deck as if they’d just been dropped in the first convenient location. Faced with all this, her commbadge beeping at her was the last thing she needed. She slapped at it.
,’,What!,’, she snapped.
"What is not how you should address a superior officer Quartermaster," Hay'Legh said as she came around the last stack of lopsided crates to where Marie was standing. She raised an eyebrow at the sight of the cargo. Quite frankly Hay'Legh was surprised that the crates had not moved or fallen by now considering Klingon ships are not known for 'vibration free' running.
"Though, if this is how you safely stow our cargo you may not be Quartermaster by the end of this trip," the Rihannsu said holding herself ready, hoping that the human would make an action to provoke her.
Marie spun on her heel. Her face was livid. “This is how those, petaQ’s on the Starbase 611 stored our equipment. It has nothing to do with me – I just get to fix it. All we need is a half-decent solar wind and our precious guests will be wearing it. Then again,” she mused, “I’d like to see our HoD’s face if that happened. That would really raise his stocks with the Klingon High Command.”
“If you were doing your job correctly you should have been supervising the loading of this cargo. So this mess has everything to do with you.” Hay’Legh stood watching Marie impassively. In actual fact she did not care a jot about the cargo or how it was stowed as most of it directly related to the Klingons on board. But as Executive Officer it was her business to ensure that everything ran smoothly, her own work ethic would not let her neglect her duties – even if she was assigned to serve on a Klingon vessel.
“Don’t tell me how to do my job,” Marie snapped. “If you have to lecture someone, call up SB611 and give them a piece of your mind. Now, if you don’t have anything you actually need to tell me, kindly leave me alone to rectify this mess.”
“It is my job to ensure that everything runs smoothly on this vessel Quartermaster, and if I find that someone is not pulling their weight it just makes my job that much more difficult.” Hay’Legh then let out a sigh. “But I did not come down to this sweatbox to review cargo distribution. I came down here to discuss your attitude to the Captain on the bridge earlier. You must realise that such insubordination will not be tolerated.”
“To him?” Marie drew a deep breath. How many enemies did she need on this ship. By her estimation – and, admittedly, her estimation had been wrong in the past but...by her estimation – this Romulan was just as happy to be here as she was. Therefore....
“Look Eredh,” she continued. “I have no quarrel with you. I don’t want to be here but here I am. I have to make the most of it. But.... That idiot we have as a captain could well get us all killed. He’s a Klingon. All he wants is....well, you don’t need me to tell you about Klingons. Problem is, the F’Hew has been shoved aside and he won’t get what he wants. If I thought there was a prospect of this woe-begotten ship achieving glory then I’d play my part and that would be the end of it. Second problem, he’s a bit player with delusions of grandeur. How much do you know about House Matlh?”
Hay’Legh raised an eyebrow at the question but said nothing. She had done her own research as soon as she was ‘told’ that she was to be assigned as a liaison to House Matlh – it did not pay to always rely only on the information fed down by the Tal Shiar. Hay’Legh waited for Marie to continue.
“Look at the ridges on his crest. Is that the crest of someone from one of the great Houses? He struts around like he’s an aristocrat and, let me guess, he suggested we should be a democracy following my outburst on the bridge. We’re not either.... We’re a kakocracy! Not that it makes much difference to me but.... you’ve heard him go on about how House Matlh has a seat on the High Council. It’s his nephew. That Ambassador is the real power behind the throne. Even so, they supported House Duras during the civil war. They’ve fought their way back since then, I’ll give them that, but they’re minor players. They love to throw their weight around but that’s all they’re doing – throwing their weight around.”
“If glory is what you are seeking, maybe you should investigate getting employment on another ship. You at least have that choice…” Hay’Legh let her words trail off, her own personal background was not under discussion here.
“Glory!” Marie laughed bitterly. “Glory doesn’t put food in your mouth. Glory just gets you killed.”
“But while you are here on the F’Hew and under the employment of House Malth, you will play by their rules. Backtalk is to be expected on a Klingon vessel but contradicting a direct order as you did on the bridge will not be tolerated again. Not unless you plan on Killing Ro’ and taking his place as Captain on this Klingon rust bucket. Though you will then have to watch your back in case one of his relatives decide to take revenge.”
Hay'Legh frowned down at the human. "Do you understand me?"
“I understand,” Marie growled. Just don’t expect me to like it. Face it girl, she chided herself, you need Matlh as much as he needs you. So keep your fool mouth shut and you might just survive this trip. At least it’s not going anywhere near the war and that’s all that need concern you, not some idiot Klingon’s posturing.
by Soghla' Marie St. Helene & Eredh Hay'legh
Post Details
| Title | Contention | |
| Mission | In the belly of the Whale | |
| Author(s) | Soghla' Marie St. Helene & Eredh Hay'legh | |
| Posted | Thu Feb 18, 2010 @ 4:23am | |
| Location | Cargo bay |
As soon as her feet hit the cargo decking, the Rihannsu turned and stalked through the cargo hold. “St Helene, I need to see you NOW.”
Marie stood surveying the sorry excuse for storage which surrounded her. At least she had light now but that just made the problem worse – now she could see the stupidity in all its glory. Crates were balanced – to use the term in a very loose sense – on top of boxes half their size; piles teetered at alarming angles; items lay loosely on the deck as if they’d just been dropped in the first convenient location. Faced with all this, her commbadge beeping at her was the last thing she needed. She slapped at it.
,’,What!,’, she snapped.
"What is not how you should address a superior officer Quartermaster," Hay'Legh said as she came around the last stack of lopsided crates to where Marie was standing. She raised an eyebrow at the sight of the cargo. Quite frankly Hay'Legh was surprised that the crates had not moved or fallen by now considering Klingon ships are not known for 'vibration free' running.
"Though, if this is how you safely stow our cargo you may not be Quartermaster by the end of this trip," the Rihannsu said holding herself ready, hoping that the human would make an action to provoke her.
Marie spun on her heel. Her face was livid. “This is how those, petaQ’s on the Starbase 611 stored our equipment. It has nothing to do with me – I just get to fix it. All we need is a half-decent solar wind and our precious guests will be wearing it. Then again,” she mused, “I’d like to see our HoD’s face if that happened. That would really raise his stocks with the Klingon High Command.”
“If you were doing your job correctly you should have been supervising the loading of this cargo. So this mess has everything to do with you.” Hay’Legh stood watching Marie impassively. In actual fact she did not care a jot about the cargo or how it was stowed as most of it directly related to the Klingons on board. But as Executive Officer it was her business to ensure that everything ran smoothly, her own work ethic would not let her neglect her duties – even if she was assigned to serve on a Klingon vessel.
“Don’t tell me how to do my job,” Marie snapped. “If you have to lecture someone, call up SB611 and give them a piece of your mind. Now, if you don’t have anything you actually need to tell me, kindly leave me alone to rectify this mess.”
“It is my job to ensure that everything runs smoothly on this vessel Quartermaster, and if I find that someone is not pulling their weight it just makes my job that much more difficult.” Hay’Legh then let out a sigh. “But I did not come down to this sweatbox to review cargo distribution. I came down here to discuss your attitude to the Captain on the bridge earlier. You must realise that such insubordination will not be tolerated.”
“To him?” Marie drew a deep breath. How many enemies did she need on this ship. By her estimation – and, admittedly, her estimation had been wrong in the past but...by her estimation – this Romulan was just as happy to be here as she was. Therefore....
“Look Eredh,” she continued. “I have no quarrel with you. I don’t want to be here but here I am. I have to make the most of it. But.... That idiot we have as a captain could well get us all killed. He’s a Klingon. All he wants is....well, you don’t need me to tell you about Klingons. Problem is, the F’Hew has been shoved aside and he won’t get what he wants. If I thought there was a prospect of this woe-begotten ship achieving glory then I’d play my part and that would be the end of it. Second problem, he’s a bit player with delusions of grandeur. How much do you know about House Matlh?”
Hay’Legh raised an eyebrow at the question but said nothing. She had done her own research as soon as she was ‘told’ that she was to be assigned as a liaison to House Matlh – it did not pay to always rely only on the information fed down by the Tal Shiar. Hay’Legh waited for Marie to continue.
“Look at the ridges on his crest. Is that the crest of someone from one of the great Houses? He struts around like he’s an aristocrat and, let me guess, he suggested we should be a democracy following my outburst on the bridge. We’re not either.... We’re a kakocracy! Not that it makes much difference to me but.... you’ve heard him go on about how House Matlh has a seat on the High Council. It’s his nephew. That Ambassador is the real power behind the throne. Even so, they supported House Duras during the civil war. They’ve fought their way back since then, I’ll give them that, but they’re minor players. They love to throw their weight around but that’s all they’re doing – throwing their weight around.”
“If glory is what you are seeking, maybe you should investigate getting employment on another ship. You at least have that choice…” Hay’Legh let her words trail off, her own personal background was not under discussion here.
“Glory!” Marie laughed bitterly. “Glory doesn’t put food in your mouth. Glory just gets you killed.”
“But while you are here on the F’Hew and under the employment of House Malth, you will play by their rules. Backtalk is to be expected on a Klingon vessel but contradicting a direct order as you did on the bridge will not be tolerated again. Not unless you plan on Killing Ro’ and taking his place as Captain on this Klingon rust bucket. Though you will then have to watch your back in case one of his relatives decide to take revenge.”
Hay'Legh frowned down at the human. "Do you understand me?"
“I understand,” Marie growled. Just don’t expect me to like it. Face it girl, she chided herself, you need Matlh as much as he needs you. So keep your fool mouth shut and you might just survive this trip. At least it’s not going anywhere near the war and that’s all that need concern you, not some idiot Klingon’s posturing.