allmhadadh (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
allmhadadh) wrote2009-08-19 11:23 am
allmhadadh) wrote2009-08-19 11:23 am
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Holding the Line - [Original Enterprise, Starbase 4]
Most of his crew was fairly scattered, though aside one they stayed fairly close to the Enterprise. Nurse Chapel had requested leave to go and visit her mother, and Scotty had granted it, but near everyone else stayed within the system and fairly ready at hand. Command had sent him a message, pulling him out of a restless sleep where he was dreaming of a beach somewhere, a fresh-water beach under gray skies and filtered sunlight, and Scotty started his day without even a proper cup of coffee.
There were three admirals who poked him for questions, before he'd even had his caffeine fix, and he did his best to satisfy their answers. They were going to send the requisitioned replacement parts, which was definitely a good thing. They still had made no call on a change of command, though. They'd prodded and poked until he was practically ready to leap through the monitor on them, but at least the word so far was that they hadn't decided on replacing Kirk, Spock and McCoy yet. They also requested a written clarification on a number of statements that couldn't easily be clarified.
That was another reason why Scotty didn't want to be Captain. He hated the paperwork. He had enough of it running his own division, let alone the whole ship.
Regardless, he finally got a cup of coffee and felt a little more alive when he got on the business of the day. He checked up on the repairs that had been done through the night, checked the assignments for the day, made sure to check in with his senior staff. He checked in with Montana Wolfe, who seemed to be warming up to him slightly -- she tipped him a salute with her own coffee mug when they finished their quick briefing. He checked with security about their prisoner, who had apparently behaved throughout the night.
And still with his coffee mug in hand, now on his third cup, he headed down to the brig himself.
There were three admirals who poked him for questions, before he'd even had his caffeine fix, and he did his best to satisfy their answers. They were going to send the requisitioned replacement parts, which was definitely a good thing. They still had made no call on a change of command, though. They'd prodded and poked until he was practically ready to leap through the monitor on them, but at least the word so far was that they hadn't decided on replacing Kirk, Spock and McCoy yet. They also requested a written clarification on a number of statements that couldn't easily be clarified.
That was another reason why Scotty didn't want to be Captain. He hated the paperwork. He had enough of it running his own division, let alone the whole ship.
Regardless, he finally got a cup of coffee and felt a little more alive when he got on the business of the day. He checked up on the repairs that had been done through the night, checked the assignments for the day, made sure to check in with his senior staff. He checked in with Montana Wolfe, who seemed to be warming up to him slightly -- she tipped him a salute with her own coffee mug when they finished their quick briefing. He checked with security about their prisoner, who had apparently behaved throughout the night.
And still with his coffee mug in hand, now on his third cup, he headed down to the brig himself.
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She wanted to believe that she didn't have anything to fear from this Scott. Her reactions to him, allowing him to lead her down to the brig, providing any answers to questions he had and generally staying in control were mostly to show that there was a level of respect on her part.
But, in the end, the logical side of her brain pointed out that this particular Scott hadn't really sone anything to earn that respect, other than treating her as kindly as a person could treat someone who had been caught running around a starship. That was more than the Starfleet of her own universe would afford her.
Hearing a new set of footsteps coming roughly in her direction, Nance snapped out of the train of thought and focused her attention on whoever was coming down the hall.
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The woman was standing up, and generally looking pretty much the same as the day before. He had brought his tricorder with him to take scans, though he planned on asking permission; she had yet to act a threat, though he was more apt to err on the side of caution in these situation.
He leaned a shoulder on the wall and took a sip of coffee before offering a, "Good mornin'."
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The tricorder, though, put her at ill-ease. She tensed her shoulders as she spotted it, trying to remind herself that if Scott really wanted to do serious damage to her, he would have acted already. She didn't doubt the man's skills for a second.
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"Technically speaking, I don't have a serial number, but if you need something for your records, Nano-Cybernetic 3000 was printed on the side of my first body."
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"At home, I don't know how much liberty I'd have to explain what happened," she said with a frown. "But, I guess I don't have much of a choice here, do I? The best way I can explain it is that it was a metal box with no way to open it. Whatever was inside was completely sealed from human contact, but as odd as it sounds, a computer could contact it through a wireless connection, as if it wanted to be touched but couldn't through physical means."
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She pretended to dust herself off her sleeves in the hallway. "What limits did you have in mind?"
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