Originally posted on fanfiction.net - Link.
--------------------------------------
Undercover Craziness
This is too easy, Nakev thought to himself as he casually strode down a corridor of the Cerritos. Starfleet’s so-called security protocols are a joke. People don’t even bother verifying new officer’s identities when they report for duty, much less run comprehensive background checks to detect forged personnel profiles. The fools simply take one’s word for it. How pathetic! Such careless security attitudes are proof that the Federation will inevitably fall to the Romulan Star Empire…
“Excuse me, Ensign Samar?” Someone called out.
“Yes?” Nakev replied hearing the name of his undercover identity.
“Hey there,” Jet appeared with a friendly wave and an easy-going smile. “You’re one of the newly transferred computer specialists, am I right?”
“Yes, sir,” Nakev confirmed.
“Great,” Jet beamed. “I’m your orientation liaison Jet Manhaver. Looks like we’ll be working together.”
“Understood,” Nakev nodded.
“We’ll be working on an important and sensitive area of the ship today,” Jet said leading Nakev down a hallway. “You up for it?”
“Yes, sir,” Nakev said. Ah, an important and sensitive area of the ship. I should be able to find out all kinds of valuable information from this.
“Good to hear,” Jet grinned. “Today we’re going to be inspecting the ship’s doors and maintenance hatches to make sure they’re functioning within acceptable parameters.”
“Huh?” Nakev blinked, confused. “We’re going to be checking doors? How is that important?”
“Hey, doors and maintenance hatches are one of the most important systems on a starship,” Jet stated. “Just imagine all the trouble there’d be if the ship’s doors weren’t functioning properly. It’d be chaos! Chaos, I tell ya!”
“But sir, I’m a computer specialist,” Nakev protested. “Not a doorman.”
“That’s okay. I’ll show you the ropes. That’s what orientation liaisons do,” Jet assured him. “Now, our job is to inspect the ship’s doors, sensor and control panels to confirm they’re all up to spec. And make sure they’re all aligned and lubricated correctly. Don’t want people colliding head-first into a pair of malfunctioning doors. How unprofessional would that be?”
“Uh, if you say so,” Nakev blinked. “Um, just how many doors are we to inspect?”
“Eh, not too many,” Jet waved. “We’re only assigned to inspect maintenance hatches numbered 001 through 788. Along with a few hundred regular doors…”
“What?” Nakev gasped.
“So, let’s get started,” Jet smiled stopping before a set of doors to one of the science labs. He quickly scanned them with a tricorder. “Good, these doors are only misaligned by point five two microns. That’s well within acceptable parameters. Now to check their response time. Try walking through them.”
“Okay,” Nakev attempted to do so only to run face-first into the doors. “Ow!”
“Hmmm, that’s strange,” Jet frowned running a check on the unopened doors. “You’re authorized to be in the system. Must be a problem with the doors’ sensors recognizing your lifesign. Lemme run a quick medical scan on you…”
“No!” Nakev said quickly. “Uh, I mean, there’s really no need for that, sir.”
“Hey, relax. No need to get worked up about it,” Jet soothed. “It’s just a standard physical, genetic and biometric scan. It won’t hurt a bit…”
“Uh…” Nakev gulped. This could be a problem…
“Billups to Manhaver,” Jet’s combadge suddenly beeped. “Report to the forward torpedo bay at once. And don’t bring any unauthorized personnel with you.”
“On my way,” Jet confirmed tapping his combadge. “Well, duty calls. Looks like I’ll have to put off inspecting door and maintenance hatches for now.”
“Understood, sir,” Nakev said covering a relieved sigh. Thank goodness. For a moment I was afraid I was going to have to kill you…
“I’ll ask someone else to work with you while I’m gone,” Jet continued glancing around the corridor. “Hey, Boimler. Mind taking over for me for a bit?”
“Well, I’m assigned to calibrate and run some tests on the port phaser arrays,” Boimler said.
“Oh really?” Nakev hid a grin. Now that sounds very promising…
“But since I’m already ahead of schedule, I can easily take over your duties instead,” Boimler smiled walking over to them. “After all, working on the ship’s doors is far more interesting and important.”
“Huh?” Nakev blinked in surprise.
“Great. I owe you one,” Jet smiled taking off. “Catch you later, Boimler. Samar.”
“Uh, yes, sir,” Nakev nodded dumbly as Jet left.
“So, what are you working on?” Boimler asked.
“Inspecting the door’s sensors and controls, sir,” Nakev explained. “Though personally I’d prefer an assignment better suited to my specialty and training as a computer specialist.”
“What are you talking about?” Boimler said taking out a tricorder. “We’re Starfleet officers. Being all-around technical and scientific generalists is our thing.”
“Uh, if you say so,” Nakev blinked.
“I do say so. Now let’s take a look at these doors,” Boimler smiled running a scan. “Oooh, this is almost as much fun as purging the recalibration matrix…”
“Hey, what’s going on out here?” The doors to the science lab opened revealing an annoyed Lieutenant Levy. “Are you installing a new string of emergency lights again?”
“No, Levy. Nobody’s installing new emergency lights,” Boimler sighed. “We’re just doing routine ship maintenance and inspections.”
“That’s Lieutenant Levy to you, Ensign,” Levy sniffed. “And it’s a good thing you’re not installing more emergency lights. Emergency lights are exactly the kind of equipment used by spies and undercover agents.”
“What?” Nakev barely managed to suppress a yelp.
“Yes, emergency lights are a perfect medium which unsavory individuals and organizations use to spy on us,” Levy insisted. “They’re the perfect cover for all kinds of nefarious espionage tools. Emergency lights are a ubiquitous yet seeming harmless set of equipment which hide all kinds of covert burst transmitters, surveillance monitors and other eavesdropping devices. Especially those favored by Romulans and, even more insidious, Starfleet Intelligence! Heck, there could be undercover Starfleet and Romulan agents working among us right now!”
“Uh,” Nakev gulped and began to sweat.
“Well then you should be reassured by the lack of emergency lights around the science labs,” Boimler rolled his eyes. “Since you insisted on removing them all yourself. And the fact we have a complete and utter lack of intelligence assets aboard the Cerritos.”
“No kidding,” Nakev muttered.
“And I’ll make sure it stays that way,” Levy vowed. “Right after I finish convincing Captain Freeman to reveal all the lies and fabrications about the so-called ‘Genesis Device’.” He turned and headed down the corridor. “THE TRUTH MUST BE TOLD!”
“Whatever you say, sir,” Boimler sighed as Levy disappeared. He noticed Nakev looking slightly nervous. “Ugh, just ignore him. Levy’s always going on about some crazy conspiracy theory or another. You’ll eventual learn to turn them all out.” Boimler snorted dismissively while shaking his head. “Sheesh, undercover Romulan spies working among us. How likely is that?”
“Uh, sure,” Nakev coughed and attempted to subtly change the subject. “So, sir. You seem to be pretty familiar with what all goes on aboard the Cerritos.”
“Well, I don’t like to brag,” Boimler preened modestly. “But I do manage to stay pretty well informed for one who works among Starfleet’s Lower Decks. Maybe not on the same level as Ensigns Mariner or Fedorov, but still…”
“Which means you must know a lot about the ship and her crew,” Nakev continued. “Their strengths, their weakness, their secrets…”
“Oh sure. I know all about those,” Boimler confirmed as he worked. “In fact, there’s a ship’s secret I’ve been dying to share with someone all day.”
“Really?” Nakev tried to hide his excitement. “Do tell.”
“Okay, here it is,” Boimler leaned over to whisper. “So, apparently Ensigns Mendell and Ross have gotten together recently, but it turns out Mendell has also been seeing Ensign Ergin behind Ross’s back.”
“Wait, what?” Nakev blinked having been caught completely off-guard.
“Not only that, but Ergin was also caught inside one of the starboard Jefferies tubes with Lieutenant Becker,” Boimler went on. “The two of them were doing some creative EPS coupling in there if you get my drift. Becker was also thought to have been dating Lieutenant Clay, but it turns out Clay broke up him because Clay wanted to focus more on her career. Just like what happened between me and Barbara.”
“Uh,” Nakev looked completely lost.
“I still miss Barbara,” Boimler sighed wistfully. “She was so cool. We were so perfect together! But I got over her. Just like I’m sure Becker got over Clay. We’ve both moved on. I’m completely happy and content with my life.”
--------------------------------------
Five minutes later…
“WHY, BARBARA, WHY?!” Boimler wept noisily while blowing his nose into his uniform sleeve. “How could she break my heart like that? Barbara liked me! She really liked me! We could have been the best Starfleet couple ever! But instead she just tossed me aside like a used impulse manifold. Why did she do that? WHY?! WHY?! WHY?!”
“Uh huh,” A mentally numb Nakev nodded robotically with his eyes glazed over.
“Hey, Boimler,” Rutherford appeared around a corner. “Can you spare a minute? I need your help with something.”
“Not now, man,” Boimler sniffed wiping away his tears. “Right now I need to go curl up in a storage closet and cry…I mean, I need to go to waste extraction. I mean…we’ll talk later,” Boimler cried dashing down the hallway. “WAAAAAAHHH!”
“Okey-dokey,” Rutherford shrugged before turning to Nakev. “Hi. You must be new here. I’m Ensign Sam Rutherford. Care to help me out?”
“Yes!” Nakev shouted practically leaping to his feet. “Just as long as it doesn’t have anything to do with interpersonal relationships. I’ll do anything. Anything!”
“Great,” Rutherford beamed leading him through the corridors. “I’ve been working on a special technical project that’s also kinda secret. So don’t tell anybody about it, okay?”
“Yes, sir,” Nakev nodded eagerly. Finally, a chance to gather some real intelligence! Maybe I’ll even be able to plant a few computer viruses too. These Starfleet types are so trusting…
“Here we are,” Rutherford grinned entering Repair Bay Five. “I’ve been working on modifying a set of emergency transporter armbands to achieve better pattern locks and efficiency. My biocylinder trials turned out just fine, so now I’m ready to try the armbands out on a real life subject.”
“Wait, what?” Nakev did a take as Rutherford quickly slapped an emergency transporter armband around Nakev’s left arm.
“Don’t worry. This won’t hurt a bit,” Rutherford smiled tapping a padd. “Just a quick short-range transport to...oops!”
“Oops?” Nakev gulped. “What do you mean oops…ahhh!” Nakev yelped as he was whisked away by a transporter beam only to rematerialize at the top of a massive stack of cargo containers.
CRASH!
“Ohhh,” Nakev moaned as he and the containers tumbled to the floor.
“Hey, watch what you’re doing!” Ensign Meredith snapped standing over him. “We just finished stacking those!”
“Oops! Sorry about that,” Rutherford’s voice came over Nakev’s combadge. “Minor hiccup there. It should work just fine this time.”
“Huh?” Nakev gasped. “What do you mean should…?” Nakev was cut off as he disappeared again only to end up in the middle of an anbo-jyutsu match.
“Yoroshiku-onegaishimasu!” Ensign Volis shouted with a raised staff and lowered visor.
“Yoroshiku-onegaishimasu!” A similarly armed and clad Chief Logan yelled back.
“No! Wait…AAAGGGHHH!” Nakev cried as the two armor-padded officers lunged.
“Yayayayaya!” Both blinded fighters shouted as they proceeded to unknowingly beat the stuffing out of Nakev.
“Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!” Nakev wailed while desperately trying to escape. “Gaaaahhh, my spleen! Help! Medic!”
“Whoops, my bad,” Rutherford apologized. “Let me try again.”
“Wait! No…!” Nakev yelled before another transporter beam whisked him away.
PLOOOOOOSSSHHH!
“Glugh!” Nakev choked appearing in the aquatic section of Cetacean Ops. He gagged and struggled to stay afloat. “Waaahhh! Somebody save me! I can’t swim! Bleah!”
“I save you! I save you!” A sleek, streamlined body clicked rushing up to him.
“Thank you! Thank…AAAAAAHHHHHH!” Nakev screamed as he suddenly found himself speeding through the water.
“Yay! This is fun!” The young dolphin giggled while dragged Nakev along by his ankle.
“Haeun! Get back here!” Specialist Paikea scolded swimming after her spirited progeny. “You know the rules! No playing with officers while they are on duty!”
“Sorry about that,” Lieutenant Yuna apologized as Nakev sped around with his dolphin ‘rescuer’. “It is ‘Take Your Offspring to Work’ Day.”
“BLUBBALUBBALUBBALUBB!” Nakev choked while desperately searching for air. “HELP! I’M GOING TO DIE!”
“Dang it. Why does this keep happening?” Rutherford was heard cursing. “Ah, there! It should work just fine now! I think…”
“You think?!” Nakev gurgled before disappearing once again. He gasped as he miraculously rematerialized in a standing position. “Thank goodness! Someplace dry!” Nakev sighed in relief. “Brrr, I was in that water longer than I thought. It sure feels cold in here…” Nakev glanced down at himself only to find he was no longer wearing his uniform. “Aaaaaahhh!”
“Ah, there you are,” Chief Lundy noted standing in an art studio along with half a dozen seating officers bearing sketching pads. “We have been waiting for my drawing class’s latest volunteer. We will be practicing drawing nude figures today, so if you would please remove your undergarments…”
“NOT ON YOUR LIFE!” Nakev yelled covering what little he could with his hands before being whisked away by yet another transporter beam only to reappear in deep space somewhere outside the Cerritos. “YAAAAAAHHHHHH!”
“Hello? Ensign? Are you still there?” The vibrations Rutherford’s voice made over the combadge now stuck to Nakev’s underwear just barely managed to resonate up his body and into his shocked skull.
“A-a-a-c-c-c-k-k-k!” Nakev let out a silent scream as all the water in his exposed skin quickly evaporated.
“Sorry. I’ve lost track of your location, but the transporter is still reading your emergency armband’s transceiver,” Rutherford reported. “Trying to beam you back now…”
“E-e-e-p,” Nakev struggled to maintain consciousness as his abused body dematerialized once again.
SPLAT!
“Hey, my cake!” Someone yelped in surprise.
“Gaaahhh,” Nakev gasped in relief while taking several deep, rasping breaths. He looked around and found himself in a private lounge lying on top of a once-neat table covered in the remains of various purple-colored foodstuffs. “Ohhh, where am I?”
“You crashed my birthday party! Literally!” Ensign Vendome cried standing at the head of the table. A crowd of off-duty officers and civilians were also gathered around the table as well. “My co-mothers sent me those homemade cakes and soufflés straight from Bolius!”
“Your co-mothers can kiss my…AAAAAAHHH!” Nakev screamed as the raw nerve endings in his skin finally regained feeling. “OH MY GOSH, IT BURNS! IT BURNS! AAAIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!”
“Huh, looks like all the corrosive acids commonly found in Bolian cuisine are eating into that guy’s flesh,” One of the civilians commented.
FA-WHOOOOOOSSSHHH!
“YAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!”
“Which have now caught on fire from the remaining lit birthday candles,” Another civilian noted.
“Ooooh, lucky guy,” A Starfleet ensign snapped her fingers in disappointment. “I always wanted to try Bolian spiced cake flambé.”
“Some people just can’t handle rich food,” Vendome shook his head while dipping a finger into one of the ruined soufflés. “Mmmm, that’s good! You can really taste the partially decayed meat.”
“WAAAUUUGGGHHH!” Nakev shrieked bolting out of the room while clawing at his skin. “OH THE PAIN! MY SKIN IS ON FIRE! AAAGGGHHHHHH, I MISS BEING DROWNED!”
“What was that, man? I couldn’t quite understand you,” Rutherford asked over the combadge. “Don’t worry. I think I’ve isolated the problem now. One more transport ought to fix it…”
“NOOOOOOOO!” Nakev howled ripping off the emergency transporter armband and frantically tossing it away. He painfully managed to stumble into a nearby storage bay just as the last of his body’s flaming acid patches finally burned out.
“Ohhhh, my bones,” Nakev moaned collapsing into a sitting position and banged his head against one of the bulkheads. “What in the name of S’tak is happening to me? How did a simple undercover assignment come to this? If I didn’t know better, I’d think someone was out to get me…huh?” Nakev blinked as one of the bulkheads’ access panels popped open. Several curved bottles spilled out from it. “What is this?” Nakev grabbed one of the bottles and inspected it. “Real kali-fal! Thank the Praetor!”
Nakev frenetically downed the bottle’s entire contents quickly followed by the other bottles of Romulan ale and whiskey. “Ahhh, I needed that. I don’t know how so many Romulan liquors ever managed to get aboard a Federation starship and I don’t care! I’m just grateful for the relief!”
“Man, talk about a complete and utter waste of time,” Mariner’s voice was heard as the doors to the storage bay whooshed open. “Don’t you have more important things to do? There’s really no need for this.”
“Out of my way, Ensign,” Commander Ransom ordered entering the bay. “You’ve managed to evade ship security checks before, but this time I’ve caught you dead to rights.”
“Uh oh,” Nakev gulped and quickly covered up all traces of his presence before hiding behind a stack of cargo containers.
“I’m telling you, Jack. There’s nothing to see in here,” Mariner insisted appearing around another cargo stack. “There’s obviously been some mistake.”
“Yeah, and you made it,” Ransom retorted. “I received a reliable tip that you’ve been hiding a secret stash of contraband aboard the Cerritos for months.”
“What? That’s crazy talk,” Mariner laughed nervously. “I’m a Starfleet officer. I’d never be caught dead transporting contraband…no, not there!”
“Aha!” Ransom crowed throwing open a bulkhead panel in triumph. “Aaaaaand there’s nothing here.”
“WHAT?!” Mariner yelped staring at the empty access space in shock. “I mean, what true words. I told you I haven’t been hiding any contraband. Especially the alcoholic kind.”
“Hmmm, that’s strange,” Ransom commented inspecting the open access panel. “Guess that tip wasn’t as reliable as I thought. Sorry I doubted you, Ensign.”
“Oh, I’m sorry alright,” Mariner muttered quietly while staring forlornly at her absent spirits’ cache. “And I’m gonna beat the ever-living daylights out of the punk who stole my booze and make them feel sorry too! I just bet Jennifer was the one behind this! Or one of those smarmy, sneaky jerks from Delta shift…”
“Ugh,” Nakev groaned slipping out of the storage bay and away from Mariner’s growing wrath. “Looks like I have to find a new recovery spot. Now if only I had some new skin grafts to go with it…”
“Hey, you,” Lieutenant Commander Stevens appeared leading an Engineering team. “Clear the area. This section is now undergoing quarantined decontamination.”
“Huh?” Nakev blinked. “Why? From what?”
“Eh, the ship recently passed through some kind of plasma anomaly and picked up a colony of space-going submicron organisms,” Stevens explained. “The organisms are apparently parasitic and feed solely on non-synthetic forms of alcohol.”
“Oh. Okay,” Nakev said before doing a double-take. “Wait, what?!”
SSSZZZIIISSSTTT!
“AAAGGGHHHHHH!” Nakev screamed as a strange, shimmering cloud suddenly rose up from a nearby ventilation grate and surrounded him. “OH NO! HELP!”
“Don’t worry, Ensign. The science-types say the organisms are harmless,” Stevens drawled while trying to calm Nakev down. “They’ll leave you alone once they finish feeding on any alcohol contained within your body…”
POP!POP!POP!POP!POP!POP!POP!POP!POP!
“YAAAAAAHHHHHH!” Nakev screamed as he was swiftly engulfed by a barrage of bright, tiny explosions.
“Oh yeah. The scientists also said the organisms quickly metabolize the alcohol and turn it into some weird form of ionized gas,” Stevens added. “Which when exposed to oxygen immediately combusts.”
POP!POP!POP!POP!POP!POP!POP!POP!POP!
“OH MY GOSH! THE PAIN! THE PAIN!” Nakev shrieked bolting down the corridor. “HELP! SOMEBODY SAVE ME! I’M GOING TO SUBMICRONICALLY COMBUST! YEEEOOOWWW!”
“Hey, get back here! You’re blowing the quarantine!” Stevens shouted after him. “Aw, great. Looks like another long duty shift for me. So much for meeting up with Ransom later for a couple rounds of nice cold beer.”
“WAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!” Nakev howled as the cloud of microscopic organisms continued to swirl and explode around him. “UUUGGGHHH, WHY DID I DRINK ALL THAT SWEET, SWEET KALI-FAL?! MOTHER WAS RIGHT! ONE SHOULD NEVER DRINK IN SPACE! OW! OW! OW! OW! OW!”
“Whoa, watch it!” Ensign Castro shouted as Nakev just missed colliding with her before running head-first into a bulkhead. “Hey, are you alright?”
“Do I look alright to you?!” A twitching Nakev screeched sprawled out on the floor. The cloud of exploding organisms had dissipated having finished consuming all the remaining alcohol in Nakev’s body.
“Actually, you look like ten light-years of bad subspace,” Castro took in Nakev’s disheveled appearance. “What happened to your skin? What happened to your hair? And why are you running around the ship in your underwear?”
“Don’t ask,” Nakev shuddered. “Just don’t ask.”
“Here,” Castro gently helped Nakev to his feet. “Let’s get you to Sickbay.”
“Thank you, kind lady,” Nakev whimpered draped across Castro’s shoulders. “May the Great Bird of the Galaxy bless your planet.”
--------------------------------------
Undercover Craziness
This is too easy, Nakev thought to himself as he casually strode down a corridor of the Cerritos. Starfleet’s so-called security protocols are a joke. People don’t even bother verifying new officer’s identities when they report for duty, much less run comprehensive background checks to detect forged personnel profiles. The fools simply take one’s word for it. How pathetic! Such careless security attitudes are proof that the Federation will inevitably fall to the Romulan Star Empire…
“Excuse me, Ensign Samar?” Someone called out.
“Yes?” Nakev replied hearing the name of his undercover identity.
“Hey there,” Jet appeared with a friendly wave and an easy-going smile. “You’re one of the newly transferred computer specialists, am I right?”
“Yes, sir,” Nakev confirmed.
“Great,” Jet beamed. “I’m your orientation liaison Jet Manhaver. Looks like we’ll be working together.”
“Understood,” Nakev nodded.
“We’ll be working on an important and sensitive area of the ship today,” Jet said leading Nakev down a hallway. “You up for it?”
“Yes, sir,” Nakev said. Ah, an important and sensitive area of the ship. I should be able to find out all kinds of valuable information from this.
“Good to hear,” Jet grinned. “Today we’re going to be inspecting the ship’s doors and maintenance hatches to make sure they’re functioning within acceptable parameters.”
“Huh?” Nakev blinked, confused. “We’re going to be checking doors? How is that important?”
“Hey, doors and maintenance hatches are one of the most important systems on a starship,” Jet stated. “Just imagine all the trouble there’d be if the ship’s doors weren’t functioning properly. It’d be chaos! Chaos, I tell ya!”
“But sir, I’m a computer specialist,” Nakev protested. “Not a doorman.”
“That’s okay. I’ll show you the ropes. That’s what orientation liaisons do,” Jet assured him. “Now, our job is to inspect the ship’s doors, sensor and control panels to confirm they’re all up to spec. And make sure they’re all aligned and lubricated correctly. Don’t want people colliding head-first into a pair of malfunctioning doors. How unprofessional would that be?”
“Uh, if you say so,” Nakev blinked. “Um, just how many doors are we to inspect?”
“Eh, not too many,” Jet waved. “We’re only assigned to inspect maintenance hatches numbered 001 through 788. Along with a few hundred regular doors…”
“What?” Nakev gasped.
“So, let’s get started,” Jet smiled stopping before a set of doors to one of the science labs. He quickly scanned them with a tricorder. “Good, these doors are only misaligned by point five two microns. That’s well within acceptable parameters. Now to check their response time. Try walking through them.”
“Okay,” Nakev attempted to do so only to run face-first into the doors. “Ow!”
“Hmmm, that’s strange,” Jet frowned running a check on the unopened doors. “You’re authorized to be in the system. Must be a problem with the doors’ sensors recognizing your lifesign. Lemme run a quick medical scan on you…”
“No!” Nakev said quickly. “Uh, I mean, there’s really no need for that, sir.”
“Hey, relax. No need to get worked up about it,” Jet soothed. “It’s just a standard physical, genetic and biometric scan. It won’t hurt a bit…”
“Uh…” Nakev gulped. This could be a problem…
“Billups to Manhaver,” Jet’s combadge suddenly beeped. “Report to the forward torpedo bay at once. And don’t bring any unauthorized personnel with you.”
“On my way,” Jet confirmed tapping his combadge. “Well, duty calls. Looks like I’ll have to put off inspecting door and maintenance hatches for now.”
“Understood, sir,” Nakev said covering a relieved sigh. Thank goodness. For a moment I was afraid I was going to have to kill you…
“I’ll ask someone else to work with you while I’m gone,” Jet continued glancing around the corridor. “Hey, Boimler. Mind taking over for me for a bit?”
“Well, I’m assigned to calibrate and run some tests on the port phaser arrays,” Boimler said.
“Oh really?” Nakev hid a grin. Now that sounds very promising…
“But since I’m already ahead of schedule, I can easily take over your duties instead,” Boimler smiled walking over to them. “After all, working on the ship’s doors is far more interesting and important.”
“Huh?” Nakev blinked in surprise.
“Great. I owe you one,” Jet smiled taking off. “Catch you later, Boimler. Samar.”
“Uh, yes, sir,” Nakev nodded dumbly as Jet left.
“So, what are you working on?” Boimler asked.
“Inspecting the door’s sensors and controls, sir,” Nakev explained. “Though personally I’d prefer an assignment better suited to my specialty and training as a computer specialist.”
“What are you talking about?” Boimler said taking out a tricorder. “We’re Starfleet officers. Being all-around technical and scientific generalists is our thing.”
“Uh, if you say so,” Nakev blinked.
“I do say so. Now let’s take a look at these doors,” Boimler smiled running a scan. “Oooh, this is almost as much fun as purging the recalibration matrix…”
“Hey, what’s going on out here?” The doors to the science lab opened revealing an annoyed Lieutenant Levy. “Are you installing a new string of emergency lights again?”
“No, Levy. Nobody’s installing new emergency lights,” Boimler sighed. “We’re just doing routine ship maintenance and inspections.”
“That’s Lieutenant Levy to you, Ensign,” Levy sniffed. “And it’s a good thing you’re not installing more emergency lights. Emergency lights are exactly the kind of equipment used by spies and undercover agents.”
“What?” Nakev barely managed to suppress a yelp.
“Yes, emergency lights are a perfect medium which unsavory individuals and organizations use to spy on us,” Levy insisted. “They’re the perfect cover for all kinds of nefarious espionage tools. Emergency lights are a ubiquitous yet seeming harmless set of equipment which hide all kinds of covert burst transmitters, surveillance monitors and other eavesdropping devices. Especially those favored by Romulans and, even more insidious, Starfleet Intelligence! Heck, there could be undercover Starfleet and Romulan agents working among us right now!”
“Uh,” Nakev gulped and began to sweat.
“Well then you should be reassured by the lack of emergency lights around the science labs,” Boimler rolled his eyes. “Since you insisted on removing them all yourself. And the fact we have a complete and utter lack of intelligence assets aboard the Cerritos.”
“No kidding,” Nakev muttered.
“And I’ll make sure it stays that way,” Levy vowed. “Right after I finish convincing Captain Freeman to reveal all the lies and fabrications about the so-called ‘Genesis Device’.” He turned and headed down the corridor. “THE TRUTH MUST BE TOLD!”
“Whatever you say, sir,” Boimler sighed as Levy disappeared. He noticed Nakev looking slightly nervous. “Ugh, just ignore him. Levy’s always going on about some crazy conspiracy theory or another. You’ll eventual learn to turn them all out.” Boimler snorted dismissively while shaking his head. “Sheesh, undercover Romulan spies working among us. How likely is that?”
“Uh, sure,” Nakev coughed and attempted to subtly change the subject. “So, sir. You seem to be pretty familiar with what all goes on aboard the Cerritos.”
“Well, I don’t like to brag,” Boimler preened modestly. “But I do manage to stay pretty well informed for one who works among Starfleet’s Lower Decks. Maybe not on the same level as Ensigns Mariner or Fedorov, but still…”
“Which means you must know a lot about the ship and her crew,” Nakev continued. “Their strengths, their weakness, their secrets…”
“Oh sure. I know all about those,” Boimler confirmed as he worked. “In fact, there’s a ship’s secret I’ve been dying to share with someone all day.”
“Really?” Nakev tried to hide his excitement. “Do tell.”
“Okay, here it is,” Boimler leaned over to whisper. “So, apparently Ensigns Mendell and Ross have gotten together recently, but it turns out Mendell has also been seeing Ensign Ergin behind Ross’s back.”
“Wait, what?” Nakev blinked having been caught completely off-guard.
“Not only that, but Ergin was also caught inside one of the starboard Jefferies tubes with Lieutenant Becker,” Boimler went on. “The two of them were doing some creative EPS coupling in there if you get my drift. Becker was also thought to have been dating Lieutenant Clay, but it turns out Clay broke up him because Clay wanted to focus more on her career. Just like what happened between me and Barbara.”
“Uh,” Nakev looked completely lost.
“I still miss Barbara,” Boimler sighed wistfully. “She was so cool. We were so perfect together! But I got over her. Just like I’m sure Becker got over Clay. We’ve both moved on. I’m completely happy and content with my life.”
--------------------------------------
Five minutes later…
“WHY, BARBARA, WHY?!” Boimler wept noisily while blowing his nose into his uniform sleeve. “How could she break my heart like that? Barbara liked me! She really liked me! We could have been the best Starfleet couple ever! But instead she just tossed me aside like a used impulse manifold. Why did she do that? WHY?! WHY?! WHY?!”
“Uh huh,” A mentally numb Nakev nodded robotically with his eyes glazed over.
“Hey, Boimler,” Rutherford appeared around a corner. “Can you spare a minute? I need your help with something.”
“Not now, man,” Boimler sniffed wiping away his tears. “Right now I need to go curl up in a storage closet and cry…I mean, I need to go to waste extraction. I mean…we’ll talk later,” Boimler cried dashing down the hallway. “WAAAAAAHHH!”
“Okey-dokey,” Rutherford shrugged before turning to Nakev. “Hi. You must be new here. I’m Ensign Sam Rutherford. Care to help me out?”
“Yes!” Nakev shouted practically leaping to his feet. “Just as long as it doesn’t have anything to do with interpersonal relationships. I’ll do anything. Anything!”
“Great,” Rutherford beamed leading him through the corridors. “I’ve been working on a special technical project that’s also kinda secret. So don’t tell anybody about it, okay?”
“Yes, sir,” Nakev nodded eagerly. Finally, a chance to gather some real intelligence! Maybe I’ll even be able to plant a few computer viruses too. These Starfleet types are so trusting…
“Here we are,” Rutherford grinned entering Repair Bay Five. “I’ve been working on modifying a set of emergency transporter armbands to achieve better pattern locks and efficiency. My biocylinder trials turned out just fine, so now I’m ready to try the armbands out on a real life subject.”
“Wait, what?” Nakev did a take as Rutherford quickly slapped an emergency transporter armband around Nakev’s left arm.
“Don’t worry. This won’t hurt a bit,” Rutherford smiled tapping a padd. “Just a quick short-range transport to...oops!”
“Oops?” Nakev gulped. “What do you mean oops…ahhh!” Nakev yelped as he was whisked away by a transporter beam only to rematerialize at the top of a massive stack of cargo containers.
CRASH!
“Ohhh,” Nakev moaned as he and the containers tumbled to the floor.
“Hey, watch what you’re doing!” Ensign Meredith snapped standing over him. “We just finished stacking those!”
“Oops! Sorry about that,” Rutherford’s voice came over Nakev’s combadge. “Minor hiccup there. It should work just fine this time.”
“Huh?” Nakev gasped. “What do you mean should…?” Nakev was cut off as he disappeared again only to end up in the middle of an anbo-jyutsu match.
“Yoroshiku-onegaishimasu!” Ensign Volis shouted with a raised staff and lowered visor.
“Yoroshiku-onegaishimasu!” A similarly armed and clad Chief Logan yelled back.
“No! Wait…AAAGGGHHH!” Nakev cried as the two armor-padded officers lunged.
“Yayayayaya!” Both blinded fighters shouted as they proceeded to unknowingly beat the stuffing out of Nakev.
“Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!” Nakev wailed while desperately trying to escape. “Gaaaahhh, my spleen! Help! Medic!”
“Whoops, my bad,” Rutherford apologized. “Let me try again.”
“Wait! No…!” Nakev yelled before another transporter beam whisked him away.
PLOOOOOOSSSHHH!
“Glugh!” Nakev choked appearing in the aquatic section of Cetacean Ops. He gagged and struggled to stay afloat. “Waaahhh! Somebody save me! I can’t swim! Bleah!”
“I save you! I save you!” A sleek, streamlined body clicked rushing up to him.
“Thank you! Thank…AAAAAAHHHHHH!” Nakev screamed as he suddenly found himself speeding through the water.
“Yay! This is fun!” The young dolphin giggled while dragged Nakev along by his ankle.
“Haeun! Get back here!” Specialist Paikea scolded swimming after her spirited progeny. “You know the rules! No playing with officers while they are on duty!”
“Sorry about that,” Lieutenant Yuna apologized as Nakev sped around with his dolphin ‘rescuer’. “It is ‘Take Your Offspring to Work’ Day.”
“BLUBBALUBBALUBBALUBB!” Nakev choked while desperately searching for air. “HELP! I’M GOING TO DIE!”
“Dang it. Why does this keep happening?” Rutherford was heard cursing. “Ah, there! It should work just fine now! I think…”
“You think?!” Nakev gurgled before disappearing once again. He gasped as he miraculously rematerialized in a standing position. “Thank goodness! Someplace dry!” Nakev sighed in relief. “Brrr, I was in that water longer than I thought. It sure feels cold in here…” Nakev glanced down at himself only to find he was no longer wearing his uniform. “Aaaaaahhh!”
“Ah, there you are,” Chief Lundy noted standing in an art studio along with half a dozen seating officers bearing sketching pads. “We have been waiting for my drawing class’s latest volunteer. We will be practicing drawing nude figures today, so if you would please remove your undergarments…”
“NOT ON YOUR LIFE!” Nakev yelled covering what little he could with his hands before being whisked away by yet another transporter beam only to reappear in deep space somewhere outside the Cerritos. “YAAAAAAHHHHHH!”
“Hello? Ensign? Are you still there?” The vibrations Rutherford’s voice made over the combadge now stuck to Nakev’s underwear just barely managed to resonate up his body and into his shocked skull.
“A-a-a-c-c-c-k-k-k!” Nakev let out a silent scream as all the water in his exposed skin quickly evaporated.
“Sorry. I’ve lost track of your location, but the transporter is still reading your emergency armband’s transceiver,” Rutherford reported. “Trying to beam you back now…”
“E-e-e-p,” Nakev struggled to maintain consciousness as his abused body dematerialized once again.
SPLAT!
“Hey, my cake!” Someone yelped in surprise.
“Gaaahhh,” Nakev gasped in relief while taking several deep, rasping breaths. He looked around and found himself in a private lounge lying on top of a once-neat table covered in the remains of various purple-colored foodstuffs. “Ohhh, where am I?”
“You crashed my birthday party! Literally!” Ensign Vendome cried standing at the head of the table. A crowd of off-duty officers and civilians were also gathered around the table as well. “My co-mothers sent me those homemade cakes and soufflés straight from Bolius!”
“Your co-mothers can kiss my…AAAAAAHHH!” Nakev screamed as the raw nerve endings in his skin finally regained feeling. “OH MY GOSH, IT BURNS! IT BURNS! AAAIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!”
“Huh, looks like all the corrosive acids commonly found in Bolian cuisine are eating into that guy’s flesh,” One of the civilians commented.
FA-WHOOOOOOSSSHHH!
“YAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!”
“Which have now caught on fire from the remaining lit birthday candles,” Another civilian noted.
“Ooooh, lucky guy,” A Starfleet ensign snapped her fingers in disappointment. “I always wanted to try Bolian spiced cake flambé.”
“Some people just can’t handle rich food,” Vendome shook his head while dipping a finger into one of the ruined soufflés. “Mmmm, that’s good! You can really taste the partially decayed meat.”
“WAAAUUUGGGHHH!” Nakev shrieked bolting out of the room while clawing at his skin. “OH THE PAIN! MY SKIN IS ON FIRE! AAAGGGHHHHHH, I MISS BEING DROWNED!”
“What was that, man? I couldn’t quite understand you,” Rutherford asked over the combadge. “Don’t worry. I think I’ve isolated the problem now. One more transport ought to fix it…”
“NOOOOOOOO!” Nakev howled ripping off the emergency transporter armband and frantically tossing it away. He painfully managed to stumble into a nearby storage bay just as the last of his body’s flaming acid patches finally burned out.
“Ohhhh, my bones,” Nakev moaned collapsing into a sitting position and banged his head against one of the bulkheads. “What in the name of S’tak is happening to me? How did a simple undercover assignment come to this? If I didn’t know better, I’d think someone was out to get me…huh?” Nakev blinked as one of the bulkheads’ access panels popped open. Several curved bottles spilled out from it. “What is this?” Nakev grabbed one of the bottles and inspected it. “Real kali-fal! Thank the Praetor!”
Nakev frenetically downed the bottle’s entire contents quickly followed by the other bottles of Romulan ale and whiskey. “Ahhh, I needed that. I don’t know how so many Romulan liquors ever managed to get aboard a Federation starship and I don’t care! I’m just grateful for the relief!”
“Man, talk about a complete and utter waste of time,” Mariner’s voice was heard as the doors to the storage bay whooshed open. “Don’t you have more important things to do? There’s really no need for this.”
“Out of my way, Ensign,” Commander Ransom ordered entering the bay. “You’ve managed to evade ship security checks before, but this time I’ve caught you dead to rights.”
“Uh oh,” Nakev gulped and quickly covered up all traces of his presence before hiding behind a stack of cargo containers.
“I’m telling you, Jack. There’s nothing to see in here,” Mariner insisted appearing around another cargo stack. “There’s obviously been some mistake.”
“Yeah, and you made it,” Ransom retorted. “I received a reliable tip that you’ve been hiding a secret stash of contraband aboard the Cerritos for months.”
“What? That’s crazy talk,” Mariner laughed nervously. “I’m a Starfleet officer. I’d never be caught dead transporting contraband…no, not there!”
“Aha!” Ransom crowed throwing open a bulkhead panel in triumph. “Aaaaaand there’s nothing here.”
“WHAT?!” Mariner yelped staring at the empty access space in shock. “I mean, what true words. I told you I haven’t been hiding any contraband. Especially the alcoholic kind.”
“Hmmm, that’s strange,” Ransom commented inspecting the open access panel. “Guess that tip wasn’t as reliable as I thought. Sorry I doubted you, Ensign.”
“Oh, I’m sorry alright,” Mariner muttered quietly while staring forlornly at her absent spirits’ cache. “And I’m gonna beat the ever-living daylights out of the punk who stole my booze and make them feel sorry too! I just bet Jennifer was the one behind this! Or one of those smarmy, sneaky jerks from Delta shift…”
“Ugh,” Nakev groaned slipping out of the storage bay and away from Mariner’s growing wrath. “Looks like I have to find a new recovery spot. Now if only I had some new skin grafts to go with it…”
“Hey, you,” Lieutenant Commander Stevens appeared leading an Engineering team. “Clear the area. This section is now undergoing quarantined decontamination.”
“Huh?” Nakev blinked. “Why? From what?”
“Eh, the ship recently passed through some kind of plasma anomaly and picked up a colony of space-going submicron organisms,” Stevens explained. “The organisms are apparently parasitic and feed solely on non-synthetic forms of alcohol.”
“Oh. Okay,” Nakev said before doing a double-take. “Wait, what?!”
SSSZZZIIISSSTTT!
“AAAGGGHHHHHH!” Nakev screamed as a strange, shimmering cloud suddenly rose up from a nearby ventilation grate and surrounded him. “OH NO! HELP!”
“Don’t worry, Ensign. The science-types say the organisms are harmless,” Stevens drawled while trying to calm Nakev down. “They’ll leave you alone once they finish feeding on any alcohol contained within your body…”
POP!POP!POP!POP!POP!POP!POP!POP!POP!
“YAAAAAAHHHHHH!” Nakev screamed as he was swiftly engulfed by a barrage of bright, tiny explosions.
“Oh yeah. The scientists also said the organisms quickly metabolize the alcohol and turn it into some weird form of ionized gas,” Stevens added. “Which when exposed to oxygen immediately combusts.”
POP!POP!POP!POP!POP!POP!POP!POP!POP!
“OH MY GOSH! THE PAIN! THE PAIN!” Nakev shrieked bolting down the corridor. “HELP! SOMEBODY SAVE ME! I’M GOING TO SUBMICRONICALLY COMBUST! YEEEOOOWWW!”
“Hey, get back here! You’re blowing the quarantine!” Stevens shouted after him. “Aw, great. Looks like another long duty shift for me. So much for meeting up with Ransom later for a couple rounds of nice cold beer.”
“WAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!” Nakev howled as the cloud of microscopic organisms continued to swirl and explode around him. “UUUGGGHHH, WHY DID I DRINK ALL THAT SWEET, SWEET KALI-FAL?! MOTHER WAS RIGHT! ONE SHOULD NEVER DRINK IN SPACE! OW! OW! OW! OW! OW!”
“Whoa, watch it!” Ensign Castro shouted as Nakev just missed colliding with her before running head-first into a bulkhead. “Hey, are you alright?”
“Do I look alright to you?!” A twitching Nakev screeched sprawled out on the floor. The cloud of exploding organisms had dissipated having finished consuming all the remaining alcohol in Nakev’s body.
“Actually, you look like ten light-years of bad subspace,” Castro took in Nakev’s disheveled appearance. “What happened to your skin? What happened to your hair? And why are you running around the ship in your underwear?”
“Don’t ask,” Nakev shuddered. “Just don’t ask.”
“Here,” Castro gently helped Nakev to his feet. “Let’s get you to Sickbay.”
“Thank you, kind lady,” Nakev whimpered draped across Castro’s shoulders. “May the Great Bird of the Galaxy bless your planet.”
Last edited:
