Originally posted on fanfiction.net - Link.
Note: This story takes place after the main events in the episode "Temporal Edict".
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Baroness of the Brig
“Do we really need to do this?” Boimler sighed reluctantly.
“Of course we do,” Tendi said as she, Boimler and Rutherford strode down the corridor. “Mariner is our friend. It’s only polite we visit her while she’s in the brig.”
“Yeah, man. She’d do the same for us,” Rutherford glanced at Boimler. “Don’t you miss her?”
“Well, a little,” Boimler admitted. “It’s just that Mariner is always so loud. She’s always talking, making wisecracks and being the center of attention. I have to confess I’m enjoying the peace and quiet.”
“How can you say that?” Tendi looked at him in confusion. “I thought you liked Mariner?”
“I like her just fine. She’s a good friend,” Boimler defended. “But we’re also around each other all the time. We’re paired up a lot. I interact with her more than anyone else on the ship. It’s almost like the universe conspires to have us team up every chance it gets…”
“Well, we haven’t seen Mariner at all since she left on that first away mission to the Gelrakians,” Rutherford pointed out. “And she was thrown in the brig almost the minute she and the others got back.”
“I heard she tried to assault Commander Ransom while both of them were in Sickbay,” Tendi mentioned.
“Really?” Boimler blinked. “I thought it was the other way around. Something about an arena fight and a battle blade…”
“Eh, you know away missions. There are always a few things that don’t make it into the official reports,” Rutherford turned to Boimler. “Like how did you get covered in spider-cow slime during second contact with the Galardonians?”
“Uh, just an accident,” Boimler coughed in embarrassment. “Boring story really. Nothing I want…er, I mean, nothing you want to hear!”
“Anyway, I’m sure Mariner will be happy to see us,” Tendi said as the trio neared the ship’s brig. “She’s probably bored out of her mind.”
“I dunno. Mariner has mentioned before that she actually likes spending time in the brig,” Boimler said. “She might not want us bothering her.”
“Oh, come on, man,” Rutherford scoffed. “Unless you’re adjusting the strength or integrity of the cells’ force fields, how interesting could the brig be?”
“AAAHHHHHH!” A bearded, harried-looking security guard staggered out through the brig’s doors with his eye twitching like mad. “MAKE HER STOP! FOR THE LOVE OF THE GREAT BIRD OF THE GALAXY, MAKE HER STOP!”
“You were saying?” Boimler gave Rutherford a look.
“Uh,” Rutherford blinked as the guard ran down the corridor screaming like a maniac. “On second thought, maybe we should visit Mariner later…”
“Aw, come on, guys. We’re right here and Mariner still has one more day in the brig. Let’s go see her!” Tendi said as the security doors whooshed open. “Hi, Mariner!”
“Hey baby-girl!” Mariner waved while casually lying on the padded bunk inside one of the cells. “What’s up?”
“Oh, not much. We just came to visit you and see how you were doing,” Tendi chirped.
“Yeah, we didn’t want you to feel all bored and alone in here,” Rutherford added.
“Aw, thanks guys,” Mariner smiled sitting up. Her foot was bandaged and she was still wearing her Sickbay gown. “But you don’t need to worry about me. I’m keeping myself physically fit and mentally stable.”
“Unlike the guy who just ran out of here,” Boimler frowned at the empty security station. “He left his post without being relieved. What’s his problem?”
“Eh, he just needed some time to reevaluate his life,” Mariner waved. “That guy has serious issues. He should see a ship’s counselor or something.”
“Does the Cerritos even have a ship’s counselor?” Tendi asked.
“I don’t know,” Rutherford shrugged. “I never noticed one around before.”
“I’m not surprised,” Mariner snorted. “Who would ever want to be responsible for maintaining the mental health of the entire crew?”
“Yeah, it’s hard enough maintaining one’s own mental health on this ship,” Boimler muttered.
“That explains why Starfleet is always processing so many personnel transfer requests,” Mariner quipped. “That security guard will probably be requesting a transfer soon himself.”
“Oh really?” Boimler gave her a look. “Did you help lead him to that decision by peppering him with a bunch of uncomfortable, unwanted questions?”
“Hey man, I was just trying to satisfy my natural curiosity,” Mariner held up her hands. “Besides, he’s one of the jerks who tossed me in here. I just asked him a few questions about his past, his career, his hygiene habits, his love life or lack of one thereof…”
“Sounds, uh interesting,” Tendi blinked. “Why would you bother asking him things like that?”
“What can I say? I’m always trying to get to know my fellow crewmates better,” Mariner smirked. “And it helps pass the time.”
“I don’t blame you,” Boimler said gazing around her bare cell. “This place is boring. I’d go nuts sitting around here doing nothing all day.”
“Are you kidding? The brig is the best!” Mariner grinned. “No assignments. No duties. No having to wear a tight, scratchy wrinkle-free uniform all the time.”
“Tell me about it,” Rutherford pulled at his collar. “You’d think Starfleet would have developed a decent uniform that was more resistant to coolant stains and plasma burns.”
“Plus I have a bigger bunk than our regular little wall nooks, an unconnected padd I can read and watch videos on,” Mariner continued. “Even my own personal waste extraction unit that I don’t have to share or wait in line to use. Especially with a Bolian.”
“I have to admit, you have a point on that last one,” Boimler eyed the cell’s waste extraction unit somewhat enviously. “But being in the brig is supposed to be punishment. You should be bored, restless and eager to get back to work.”
“Doing what? Hours of tedious, drudge-related tasks any half-decent hologram or Pakled could do?” Mariner gave him a look. “We’re Starfleet officers, man! You and I are in the command division! We should be leading mission teams or testing our pilot skills, not purging system memories and inventorying storage rooms. Who does the senior staff think we are? Enlisted crewpersons?”
“Well, uh…” Boimler stuttered.
“Wait, are there any regular crewpersons about the ship?” Tendi asked. “I’ve met a few petty officers and specialists, but no plain enlisted personnel. Does the Cerritos even have any onboard?”
“Not that I know of,” Rutherford shrugged. “Come to think of it, the ship does seems to have an unusually large ensign surplus. It’s like everyone is an officer of some kind.”
“Eh, probably just an administrative mistake overlooked by the higher ups,” Boimler rolled his eyes. “Speaking of which, I should really inform Lieutenant Shaxs about that absent security guard’s negligence. Abandoning his post like that while a subject is incarcerated could risk the safety of the ship.”
“Relax, Boimler. It’s just Mariner in here,” Tendi indicated the other empty holding cells. “She doesn’t pose a threat to the Cerritos.”
“Yeah, whaddya think I’d do, Boims? Talk the computer into dropping the forcefield and letting me out?” Mariner quipped.
“Yeah right,” Rutherford snickered. “Like that could ever happen.”
“Maybe in a truly mindless and messed up reality,” Boimler huffed. “But our computer is way too rational to ever obey such a ridiculous request from a prisoner.”
“Wanna bet?” Mariner grinned wickedly and cupped her hands to her mouth. “Computer! Replicate one hundred eighty metric tons of I’danian spiced pudding!”
“WHAT?!” Boimler yelped as the brig’s replicator began speedily churning out pudding like mad. “Computer! Cancel that orde…mmmppphhh!” Boimler gagged as a flying blob of pudding smacked him in the face.
“Oooh, pudding!” Rutherford smiled catching a blob in his mouth. “Mmmm! Delicious!”
“Uh oh,” Tendi gulped as the room rapidly filled with pudding. “This is not good!”
“Quick! In here!” Rutherford swiftly led her into an empty cell and tossed his combadge at a control panel to activate the cell’s force field. “Whew! That was close!”
“Hey Boimler!” Mariner grinned as the brig’s force fields protected the cells’ occupants from the growing mass of pudding. “Still think being in the brig is punishment?”
“AAAHHHHHH! GET ME OUT OF HERE!” Boimler yelped as the room’s pudding level rapidly neared the ceiling. “I’M DROWNING IN PUDDING! HELP! BLEAH!”
“So, Ensign Mariner,” The brig doors opened revealing a smug Commander Ransom. “Have you finally decided to start following Starfleet’s dress code…AAAGGGHHH!”
FLOOOOOOSSSHHH!
“WAAAUUUGGGHHHHHH!” Ransom and Boimler yelled as the flood of pudding burst out the doors and swept them down the corridor.
“YUCK! I HATE I’DANIAN SPICED PUDDING!” Ransom spat while trying to stay afloat. “AAACCCKKK, IT’S IN MY HAIR!”
“GAAAHHHHHH!” Boimler clumsily bodysurfed atop the unstoppable wave of pudding. “SAVE ME! I’M GONNA BE SICK! YAAAHHHHHH!”
“Bye-bye, Boimler!” Mariner called after him. “Thanks for visiting!”
“Wow, maybe being in the brig isn’t as bad as I thought,” Tendi commented before turning to Rutherford. “You can let us out of here, right?”
“Nope,” Rutherford shook his head. “The force field can only be deactivated from the outside.”
“Oh. Okay, that could be a problem,” Tendi blinked and nervously glanced out into the corridor. “Uh, a little help here? Anybody? Hello?”
“Yeah! Let us out!” Rutherford shouted. “I have to reinitialize the force field emitters before the pudding turns the interconnected power conduits and relays into a complete mess!”
“That’s not the only mess that needs cleaning up around here,” Mariner grinned folding her hands behind her head and lying back on her bunk. “Man, I love the brig!”
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Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: Lower Decks.
Note: This story takes place after the main events in the episode "Temporal Edict".
--------------------------------------
Baroness of the Brig
“Do we really need to do this?” Boimler sighed reluctantly.
“Of course we do,” Tendi said as she, Boimler and Rutherford strode down the corridor. “Mariner is our friend. It’s only polite we visit her while she’s in the brig.”
“Yeah, man. She’d do the same for us,” Rutherford glanced at Boimler. “Don’t you miss her?”
“Well, a little,” Boimler admitted. “It’s just that Mariner is always so loud. She’s always talking, making wisecracks and being the center of attention. I have to confess I’m enjoying the peace and quiet.”
“How can you say that?” Tendi looked at him in confusion. “I thought you liked Mariner?”
“I like her just fine. She’s a good friend,” Boimler defended. “But we’re also around each other all the time. We’re paired up a lot. I interact with her more than anyone else on the ship. It’s almost like the universe conspires to have us team up every chance it gets…”
“Well, we haven’t seen Mariner at all since she left on that first away mission to the Gelrakians,” Rutherford pointed out. “And she was thrown in the brig almost the minute she and the others got back.”
“I heard she tried to assault Commander Ransom while both of them were in Sickbay,” Tendi mentioned.
“Really?” Boimler blinked. “I thought it was the other way around. Something about an arena fight and a battle blade…”
“Eh, you know away missions. There are always a few things that don’t make it into the official reports,” Rutherford turned to Boimler. “Like how did you get covered in spider-cow slime during second contact with the Galardonians?”
“Uh, just an accident,” Boimler coughed in embarrassment. “Boring story really. Nothing I want…er, I mean, nothing you want to hear!”
“Anyway, I’m sure Mariner will be happy to see us,” Tendi said as the trio neared the ship’s brig. “She’s probably bored out of her mind.”
“I dunno. Mariner has mentioned before that she actually likes spending time in the brig,” Boimler said. “She might not want us bothering her.”
“Oh, come on, man,” Rutherford scoffed. “Unless you’re adjusting the strength or integrity of the cells’ force fields, how interesting could the brig be?”
“AAAHHHHHH!” A bearded, harried-looking security guard staggered out through the brig’s doors with his eye twitching like mad. “MAKE HER STOP! FOR THE LOVE OF THE GREAT BIRD OF THE GALAXY, MAKE HER STOP!”
“You were saying?” Boimler gave Rutherford a look.
“Uh,” Rutherford blinked as the guard ran down the corridor screaming like a maniac. “On second thought, maybe we should visit Mariner later…”
“Aw, come on, guys. We’re right here and Mariner still has one more day in the brig. Let’s go see her!” Tendi said as the security doors whooshed open. “Hi, Mariner!”
“Hey baby-girl!” Mariner waved while casually lying on the padded bunk inside one of the cells. “What’s up?”
“Oh, not much. We just came to visit you and see how you were doing,” Tendi chirped.
“Yeah, we didn’t want you to feel all bored and alone in here,” Rutherford added.
“Aw, thanks guys,” Mariner smiled sitting up. Her foot was bandaged and she was still wearing her Sickbay gown. “But you don’t need to worry about me. I’m keeping myself physically fit and mentally stable.”
“Unlike the guy who just ran out of here,” Boimler frowned at the empty security station. “He left his post without being relieved. What’s his problem?”
“Eh, he just needed some time to reevaluate his life,” Mariner waved. “That guy has serious issues. He should see a ship’s counselor or something.”
“Does the Cerritos even have a ship’s counselor?” Tendi asked.
“I don’t know,” Rutherford shrugged. “I never noticed one around before.”
“I’m not surprised,” Mariner snorted. “Who would ever want to be responsible for maintaining the mental health of the entire crew?”
“Yeah, it’s hard enough maintaining one’s own mental health on this ship,” Boimler muttered.
“That explains why Starfleet is always processing so many personnel transfer requests,” Mariner quipped. “That security guard will probably be requesting a transfer soon himself.”
“Oh really?” Boimler gave her a look. “Did you help lead him to that decision by peppering him with a bunch of uncomfortable, unwanted questions?”
“Hey man, I was just trying to satisfy my natural curiosity,” Mariner held up her hands. “Besides, he’s one of the jerks who tossed me in here. I just asked him a few questions about his past, his career, his hygiene habits, his love life or lack of one thereof…”
“Sounds, uh interesting,” Tendi blinked. “Why would you bother asking him things like that?”
“What can I say? I’m always trying to get to know my fellow crewmates better,” Mariner smirked. “And it helps pass the time.”
“I don’t blame you,” Boimler said gazing around her bare cell. “This place is boring. I’d go nuts sitting around here doing nothing all day.”
“Are you kidding? The brig is the best!” Mariner grinned. “No assignments. No duties. No having to wear a tight, scratchy wrinkle-free uniform all the time.”
“Tell me about it,” Rutherford pulled at his collar. “You’d think Starfleet would have developed a decent uniform that was more resistant to coolant stains and plasma burns.”
“Plus I have a bigger bunk than our regular little wall nooks, an unconnected padd I can read and watch videos on,” Mariner continued. “Even my own personal waste extraction unit that I don’t have to share or wait in line to use. Especially with a Bolian.”
“I have to admit, you have a point on that last one,” Boimler eyed the cell’s waste extraction unit somewhat enviously. “But being in the brig is supposed to be punishment. You should be bored, restless and eager to get back to work.”
“Doing what? Hours of tedious, drudge-related tasks any half-decent hologram or Pakled could do?” Mariner gave him a look. “We’re Starfleet officers, man! You and I are in the command division! We should be leading mission teams or testing our pilot skills, not purging system memories and inventorying storage rooms. Who does the senior staff think we are? Enlisted crewpersons?”
“Well, uh…” Boimler stuttered.
“Wait, are there any regular crewpersons about the ship?” Tendi asked. “I’ve met a few petty officers and specialists, but no plain enlisted personnel. Does the Cerritos even have any onboard?”
“Not that I know of,” Rutherford shrugged. “Come to think of it, the ship does seems to have an unusually large ensign surplus. It’s like everyone is an officer of some kind.”
“Eh, probably just an administrative mistake overlooked by the higher ups,” Boimler rolled his eyes. “Speaking of which, I should really inform Lieutenant Shaxs about that absent security guard’s negligence. Abandoning his post like that while a subject is incarcerated could risk the safety of the ship.”
“Relax, Boimler. It’s just Mariner in here,” Tendi indicated the other empty holding cells. “She doesn’t pose a threat to the Cerritos.”
“Yeah, whaddya think I’d do, Boims? Talk the computer into dropping the forcefield and letting me out?” Mariner quipped.
“Yeah right,” Rutherford snickered. “Like that could ever happen.”
“Maybe in a truly mindless and messed up reality,” Boimler huffed. “But our computer is way too rational to ever obey such a ridiculous request from a prisoner.”
“Wanna bet?” Mariner grinned wickedly and cupped her hands to her mouth. “Computer! Replicate one hundred eighty metric tons of I’danian spiced pudding!”
“WHAT?!” Boimler yelped as the brig’s replicator began speedily churning out pudding like mad. “Computer! Cancel that orde…mmmppphhh!” Boimler gagged as a flying blob of pudding smacked him in the face.
“Oooh, pudding!” Rutherford smiled catching a blob in his mouth. “Mmmm! Delicious!”
“Uh oh,” Tendi gulped as the room rapidly filled with pudding. “This is not good!”
“Quick! In here!” Rutherford swiftly led her into an empty cell and tossed his combadge at a control panel to activate the cell’s force field. “Whew! That was close!”
“Hey Boimler!” Mariner grinned as the brig’s force fields protected the cells’ occupants from the growing mass of pudding. “Still think being in the brig is punishment?”
“AAAHHHHHH! GET ME OUT OF HERE!” Boimler yelped as the room’s pudding level rapidly neared the ceiling. “I’M DROWNING IN PUDDING! HELP! BLEAH!”
“So, Ensign Mariner,” The brig doors opened revealing a smug Commander Ransom. “Have you finally decided to start following Starfleet’s dress code…AAAGGGHHH!”
FLOOOOOOSSSHHH!
“WAAAUUUGGGHHHHHH!” Ransom and Boimler yelled as the flood of pudding burst out the doors and swept them down the corridor.
“YUCK! I HATE I’DANIAN SPICED PUDDING!” Ransom spat while trying to stay afloat. “AAACCCKKK, IT’S IN MY HAIR!”
“GAAAHHHHHH!” Boimler clumsily bodysurfed atop the unstoppable wave of pudding. “SAVE ME! I’M GONNA BE SICK! YAAAHHHHHH!”
“Bye-bye, Boimler!” Mariner called after him. “Thanks for visiting!”
“Wow, maybe being in the brig isn’t as bad as I thought,” Tendi commented before turning to Rutherford. “You can let us out of here, right?”
“Nope,” Rutherford shook his head. “The force field can only be deactivated from the outside.”
“Oh. Okay, that could be a problem,” Tendi blinked and nervously glanced out into the corridor. “Uh, a little help here? Anybody? Hello?”
“Yeah! Let us out!” Rutherford shouted. “I have to reinitialize the force field emitters before the pudding turns the interconnected power conduits and relays into a complete mess!”
“That’s not the only mess that needs cleaning up around here,” Mariner grinned folding her hands behind her head and lying back on her bunk. “Man, I love the brig!”
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Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: Lower Decks.
Excellent work!!
