Literary Challenges : The Library Computer
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Join Date: Dec 2007
06-02-2011, 04:59 PM
banked to the left, hard, sending a fresh glass of grapefruit juice sliding across the console and crashing to the floor before the drink’s owner could reach to save it. A slight growl crossed the ensign’s lips as he watched the liquid spread across the floor, his body tensing as he fought the urge to wrap his hands around the throat of the pilot and squeeze some sense into her.
At the controls the pilot let out a laugh and whoop of delight as she pushed the vehicle into a hard banking turn to the right, causing the ensign to feel his stomach turn and flip as the inertial dampeners struggled to keep up with the ship’s erratic movements.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!!!! She reacts beautifully…I have to get one for my use,” the pilot said, nearly yelling, to an officer sitting in the right seat.
“I’m really glad you’re enjoying yourself Ambassador Mz’Dazy,” Lt. Xerne Feledtion replied, a smile spreading from ear-to-ear, her golden eyes sparking. “Look to the left, at the eight o’clock! See if you can weave through there,” she said to the young diplomat, pointing out the viewscreen.
The ensign’s patience was nearing its limits as he watched the exchange, and finally, after over an hour of such seat-of-your-pants flying, he’d had enough.
“With all respect lieutenant and Ambassador,” his voice, with the deep booming resonance of an ancient steamships warning horn shocking the two women, “but our orders were to get to the
with all due speed and haste. These….games…are distracting from our mission and we must follow our orders!”
The women looked at one another, shocked the young officer had spoken, and with such power. In the two days the trio had been aboard the
the most they’d heard from the young doctor was a yes or no. Slowly both pivoted in their chairs and stared at him. He met their gaze with a hardened one of his own, his Klingon features betraying no hint of emotion, other than scorn.
, but I am the mission commander here, and the Ambassador has been stuck in closed door conferences – every day – for two months. If she wants to blow off some steam by asking to fly the runabout through this asteroid field, I am not going to say no to a respected member of the Federation’s Diplomatic Corps. Am I clear on this?”
Xerne lifted herself from her chair and stood before the junior officer, her arms crossed as she waited for his response. She tried not to show it, but she was intimidated by the Klingon, as he was nearly as tall as her in his chair as she was standing.
While the two officers were talking, Mz’Dazy saw the cluster of asteroids Xerne was pointing to moments before, and put the
in a steep dive, banking to the left for a run through the maze they presented.
“Sir, it is my belief…” Before the ensign could say anymore, the ship started its roll, throwing Xerne forward, toward the ensign. The surprise of the sudden maneuver, as well as his superior hurtling toward him caused his to throw his arms out to protect himself, and Xerne smashed into his hands, bouncing off and striking the console next to him. He could hear the lieutenant’s skull strike a console, the sickening crack of bone breaking.
“Level this ship now and cut the engines!” His barking of orders stunned Mz’Dazy, and she followed the command without thinking. As the runabout came to a halt the diplomat turned, furious she’d been spoken to in such a manner.
“I don’t know who you think you are ensign, but you will never,
…” She stopped speaking as she saw Xerne prostate on the deck, the younger officer scanning her with a tricorder in one hand, reaching into an emergency medical kit with the other for a hypospray.
How does someone that big move so fast? Mz’Dazy wondered, shaking her head.
“Will she be alright? Oh Precious Rlkiyas, what did I do?” she said.
“She will be fine, now allow me to do my job,” the ensign replied, never looking up at Mz’Dazy.
Ten minutes later the ensign finished treating Xerne, and returned from the rear of the ship where he’d bandaged her and settled her in the voyage to the
USS Cold Harbor
as comfortable as possible. Walking into the main cabin he saw the ambassador staring out the viewscreen, her fingers twitching as she waited to hear the lieutenant’s condition. Seeing the ensign’s reflection in the viewscreen, she spun her chair and rose.
“How is she?”
“She will survive. Now move away from the controls, take any other seat and I will pilot us home.”
The look of concern she’d worn like a mask vanished from Mz’Dazy’s face, and one of anger replaced it in a second.
“Now see here young man, I am not addressed in that manner, and I don’t know who you think you are, but…”
The cannon-like roar of his voice caused the diplomat to stop speaking. Without thinking she moved to the seat Xerne had occupied, her hands on her lap. Silence filled the cabin.
Sliding into the pilot’s seat, the Klingon started the Norwich toward the assigned destination. Without turning his head, he spoke to the ambassador.
“I am Ensign Dav’mak, Son of Day’ton. And I am in command of this mission now.”