Originally posted on fanfiction.net - Link.
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Unwanted Wingman
“There, all done!” Rutherford smiled as he finished repairing a padd in the Repair Bay. “Good as new.”
“Whew! Thanks, Rutherford. You’re a lifesaver,” Boimler sighed in relief. “I have over a year’s worth of data, programs and personal files stored on there. I’d hate to lose them.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t that be a shame,” Mariner drawled sitting with her feet propped up on the work table. “All those letters from home reminding you to comb your hair, brush your teeth and wishing you good night. How would you ever manage to fall asleep without them?”
“Hey, my mom has a very comforting and soothing voice, okay?” Boimler blushed. “And there’s nothing wrong with enjoying a nice, heartfelt letter from home. I bet you’d feel the same way about getting a letter from your mom.”
“Wanna bet?” Mariner muttered under her breath.
“Here ya go, man,” Rutherford handed Boimler his repaired padd. “I also backed up all your padd’s files on this isolinear chip.”
“Really? That’s great!” Boimler smiled clutching his beloved padd. “Rutherford, you’re the best!”
“Eh, no problem,” Rutherford shrugged modestly. “So, you up for a few rounds of Velocity after the shift? Tendi agreed it might help her improve her phaser accuracy and I just uploaded a new targeting program to my implant last night.”
“Sorry, have to pass this time,” Boimler declined. “I have plans.”
“Ooo, what’cha gotta do, Boims?” Mariner smirked. “Spend another lonely evening in your little hidey closet making imaginary captain’s logs?”
“No,” Boimler glared at her. “I’ll be going to the bar later with Ensign sh'Reyan.”
“sh'Reyan?” Mariner blinked. “That cute Andorian command ensign with the ponytail?”
“Yep,” Boimler grinned smugly.
“Wow! How did you manage that?” Rutherford asked.
“Oh, it was nothing,” Boimler smiled leaning against the work table. “We were running systems checks on the starboard escape pods’ navigation systems right before the last ship evacuation drill. We ended up in the same escape pod, got to talking and agreed to go out for drinks.”
“Hey, that’s great, man! Congrats!” Rutherford said. “So, you two are going on a date?”
“Well, I wouldn’t call it a date,” Boimler waved modestly. “Oh, what am I saying? Of course I would!”
“Awww, that’s so cute!” Mariner reached up and pinched Boimler’s cheek. “Our little Boims is all grown up!”
“Ow! Stop it!” Boimler swatted Mariner’s hand. “Leggo! You’ll mess with my dimples!”
“I gotta hand it to ya, Boims. You sure know how to set ‘em up,” Mariner smirked. “Being stuck in a small, confined space together works wonders when it comes to asking a woman out. Of course, you being the only male around at the time obviously didn’t hurt either.”
“Hey, I’ll have you know there are plenty of non-holographic women who find me attractive!” Boimler protested indignantly. “I don’t need to resort to cheap setups or sneaky moves when it comes to asking a woman out! And for your information, I’m not the one who asked her out for drinks! She asked me!”
“She did?” Mariner blinked in surprise. “Huh, guess there’s a first time for everything. Just make sure you don’t blow your chance with her, Boims. It’ll probably never happen again.”
“Aw, I’m sure Boimler knows what he’s doing,” Rutherford smiled and gave his friend a thumbs-up. “Have a great time!”
“Thank you. I’m sure we will!” Boimler sniffed and stomped out of the repair bay.
“So, looks like it’ll just be you, me and Tendi for Velocity,” Rutherford turned to address Mariner. “Up for doing a three-way?”
“Eh, been there, done that. Not with you guys of course…oh, you mean Velocity,” Mariner realized. “Sorry, Ruthy. I’ll have to take a rain check.” She paused a moment before giving Rutherford a slow grin. “Though there is something you can help me with. Right after I find Tendi and ask her to do me one, little favor…
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Later…
“Hi, sh'Reyan!” Boimler waved as he greeted his fellow command ensign in the ship’s bar. “You look great.”
“So do you, Boimler,” The slim, female Andorian smiled joining him at a table. “And please call me Jennifer.”
“Okay. And you can call me Brad,” Boimler said sipping his synthale. “I didn’t know ‘Jennifer’ was an Andorian name.”
“Oh, it’s not. I was named after a human mentor of my zhavey’s,” sh'Reyan explained ordering a mojito. “They were very good friends.”
“Wow, that’s neat,” Boimler commented. “My parents named me after…”
“Hey, is this thing on?” Mariner’s voice suddenly rang in Boimler’s ear. “Hello? Hello? Man, how do you adjust the volume level on this thing?”
“Ahhh!” Boimler yelped and nearly spilled his drink.
“They named you after ah what?” sh'Reyan asked.
“Yo, Mariner to Boimler. Come in, Boimler. You there? Hello?”
“What the?” Boimler’s head darted around in surprise. “Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?” sh'Reyan looked at him strangely. “Are you okay?”
“Aha! You can hear me!” Mariner crowed. “‘Bout time this darn thing starting working.”
“Uh, yeah. I’m fine!” Boimler gave a strained smile while getting up from his seat. “Um, would you excuse me a minute? I have to go, uh…get some salt!”
“Salt?” sh'Reyan blinked as Boimler quickly moved away. “What kind of…?”
“Don’t worry! I’ll be right back!” Boimler laughed weakly before ducking behind the bar’s beverage wall. “Alright, Mariner! What the heck is going on? How are you contacting me?”
“Hey, Boims! Looking sharp!” Mariner was heard grinning. “Don’t bother looking around for me. I’m keeping myself out of you and your date’s line of sight, but with a great view of the action.”
“What?! Get out of here!” Boimler hissed while futilely glancing around. “How are you able to talk to me without sh'Reyan hearing you? Are you masking your voice from her with some kind of white-sound device?”
“Na, I had Tendi implant a subcutaneous communicator into you with a hypo,” Mariner explained.
“Is that why she asked me to report to Sickbay before I went off shift?” Boimler gasped. “I knew it was too early for my annual Tarkalean Flu vaccination!”
“Any-who, Rutherford helped me link the subcutaneous communicator to my tricorder and combadge so I could monitor you,” Mariner went on. “You really didn’t think I’d let you go on a date without a wingman, did ya?”
“I don’t need a wingman! Especially not you!” Boimler hissed. “Now deactivate the communicator and leave me alone before I…!”
“Uh oh. Better get back there, Boims,” Mariner warned. “Looks like sh'Reyan is starting to give Ensign P’jok the wandering eye.”
“WHAT?!” Boimler yelped and quickly returned to the table.
“I thought you were getting salt,” sh'Reyan said as Boimler returned. “Where is it?”
“Uh, salt?” Boimler scrambled for an explanation. “Oh yeah, salt. Um, they didn’t have any. I mean, I changed my mind! Sucking salt is a bad habit, am I right?”
“I guess so,” sh'Reyan looked at him oddly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Oh yeah, I’m fine! Never better! Ha, ha!” Boimler laughed nervously. “So, how about those new navigation systems? Pretty sophisticated for a bunch of escape pods, huh?”
“Seriously, Boims? That’s the topic you chose to bring up?” Mariner tisked. “Man, do you need help!”
“Yes, but the pods’ inertial dampeners probably need tuning,” sh'Reyan commented nursing her drink. “I’d hate to have to try piloting one of the those glorified flying torpedo casings manually.”
“Are you two really engaging in shop talk on a date?” Mariner chided Boimler. “C’mon, man! You can do better than that! Ask her something personal.”
“Uh…so, do you like flying?” Boimler asked.
“Oh yes. I love it!” sh'Reyan smiled. “My thavan is a commercial shuttle pilot. He used to take me flying through various planetary rings all the time when I was young. They were so pretty! Though my own piloting skills are kind of subpar.”
“Well, let me know if you’d ever like a piloting lesson or two,” Boimler offered. “I’m sure I could show you a few tricks to help bring your proficiency levels up.”
“Aw, that’s nice, Boims,” Mariner could be heard smirking. “I bet she’d love you to perform a few nocturnal maneuvers with her.”
“Erk!” Boimler choked on his drink.
“Thanks, I’ll think about it,” sh'Reyan said not noticing Boimler’s distress.
“Yep, you can show her every one of your patented nighttime moves,” Mariner went on. “Like drooling on your pillow, talking in your sleep, sucking your thumb…”
“I do not suck my thumb!” Boimler snapped. He then noticed sh'Reyan's shocked expression. “Uh, I mean…”
“Um, okay,” sh'Reyan was stunned. “I did not know that. Well, more like I did not need to know that.”
“Sorry! That’s not what I meant,” Boimler quickly fumbled for an excuse. “I meant to say I do not shuck my thumb when I’m cleaning…um…uh…oysters!”
“Oysters?” sh'Reyan blinked.
“Oysters?” Mariner repeated.
“Yeah, oysters,” Boimler nodded rapidly. “I used to shuck oysters when I was a kid working at this old seafood restaurant in San Francisco near the Academy. Mmmm, boy was the food there good!”
“Really? I haven’t eaten much non-replicated food before,” sh'Reyan looked impressed. “I’ll have to check it out the next time I’m on Earth.”
“It’s ‘Mestral’s Human-Vulcan Fusion Grill’,” Boimler provided the name. “Make sure to mention me to the maître d'. They’ll give you the special treatment. Well, there’s a chance they will anyway. I was only a porter there after all…”
“Wow, nice save, Boims,” Mariner approved. “I have to admit, I never would have come up with a crazy, wacked out story like that.”
“It’s not a crazy, wacked out story!” Boimler insisted. “It really happened!”
“Uh, sure,” sh'Reyan was slightly taken back. “Whatever you say.”
“Sorry,” Boimler gulped at his seemingly awkward behavior. “I’m just feeling a little inadequate right now.”
“A little?” Mariner quipped. “And what you mean ‘right now’?”
“Quiet!” Boimler hissed before gazing at sh'Reyan . “It’s because you’re so intelligent, capable, understanding and pretty.”
“Oh my,” sh'Reyan blushed dark blue. “Um, thanks.”
“‘Attaway, Boims. Pour on that ol’ Starfleet charm,” Mariner was heard grinning. “Hey, maybe you should offer to fix her seafood some time. Then you can see if oysters also act as Andorian aphrodisiacs.”
“PFFFT!” Boimler choked and spit synthale all over sh'Reyan.
“Ahhh!” sh'Reyan yelped in surprise.
“Geeze, Boims. Show a bit of control, will ya?” Mariner scolded.
“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!” Boimler babbled and frantically fumbled around for some napkins.
“Ah, it’s okay. This isn’t the worst thing someone’s ever spit up over me,” sh'Reyan said wiping her face. “Like during the whole rage virus incident. Inflected crew members biting people and spewing blood. What’s up with that?”
“Ugh, tell me about it,” Boimler groaned. “You know, I was the one who helped provide a cure for that virus.”
“You?” sh'Reyan looked at him in surprise. “I thought Doctor T’Ana developed it.”
“And me! Don’t forget my contribution,” Mariner reminded.
“Well, T’Ana helped out a little bit,” Boimler coughed. “But it was my experience with the Galardonians which really led to a cure.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Mariner quipped. “An experience you wouldn’t have had if not for me! Say it! Say it!”
“Aaand Mariner helped too,” Boimler admitted. “Kinda. Sorta. A little. Maybe.”
“Ensign Mariner?” sh'Reyan repeated for clarification. “Is she a friend of yours?”
“Well,” Boimler thought for a moment. “Technically…”
“Hey! Watch it, Boimler!” Mariner warned. “Would a real friend be doing what I’m doing with you right now?”
“Huh, that’s surprising,” sh'Reyan said sipping her mojito. “I wouldn’t have guessed that.”
“Really?” Boimler blinked. “Why?”
“Yeah, why?” Mariner asked. “It’s not that much of a stretch.”
“You two just seem so different,” sh'Reyan commented gesturing at Boimler. “You’re a cute, serious, by-the-book Starfleet officer and she seems like a competent but lazy, disrespectful loose cannon.”
“What was that?” Mariner’s voice grew cold. “Who’s that blue bimbo calling lazy?”
“Well, that’s not the worst description of Mariner I’ve ever heard,” Boimler allowed. “Wait, you think I’m cute?”
“And Mariner. I’ve heard rumors about her,” sh'Reyan leaned forward to whisper. “She was supposedly court martialed and demoted a year or so ago over a major scandal. Something so big it was classified Top Secret by Starfleet Command!”
“Really?” Boimler’s eyes widened. “What happened?”
“Don’t listen to her, Boims!” Mariner attempted to distract him. “She’s just spreading gossip! You can’t believe a word of it!”
“I’m not sure. Rumors vary from breaking rules to disobeying direct orders,” sh'Reyan said softly. “Her original punishment was supposedly to be dishonorably kicked out of Starfleet and thrown into prison, but she was saved by a last-minute intervention by some big-time admiral and a captain…”
“Really?” Boimler gasped. “Who were they?”
“AGGGHHH! THAT’S IT! DATE’S OVER!” Mariner hissed frantically. “BAIL, BOIMLER! BAIL!”
“Eh, don’t know. Rumors are surprisingly vague about them,” sh'Reyan shrugged leaning back. “Whoever they are, they have my sympathy for putting up with a crazy, messed up officer like her.”
“Uh, if you say so,” Boimler blinked.
“Why that stinking little taHqeq!” Mariner cursed. “I’ll show her messed up! I’ll mess up her internal organs and play Nausicaan dice with her vertebrate!”
“But like I said, those are just rumors and you seem like a good judge of character,” sh'Reyan raised her glass at Boimler. “If you consider her a friend, that’s good enough for me.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Boimler clinked his half-empty glass with hers. “So, tell me more about how you think I’m cute.”
“Alright, maybe I’ll forgive her a little bit,” Mariner grumbled. “A very little bit.”
“And Mariner is a crack shot with a phaser. Not to mention an expert with various kinds of melee weapons,” sh'Reyan went on. “She’s one of the top officers onboard who I’d want to have on my side in a fight.”
“Okay, I’ll forgive her a lot,” Mariner allowed. “But I’m gonna make her pay for that ‘messed up officer’ crack someday!”
“Uh, that’s nice,” Boimler coughed. “But enough about Mariner, tell me more about you. Do you have any hobbies?”
“A few,” sh'Reyan shrugged. “I enjoy mountain hiking, polar diving, classical music and historical holonovels.”
“Gee, what a cliché,” Mariner drawled. “Bet she also enjoys moonlight swims and long walks on the beach…uh oh.”
“Uh oh?” Boimler blinked.
“No, not ‘uh oh’. ‘Hero’,” sh'Reyan corrected. “It’s action-adventure holoprogram about the Kumari, the first ice-cutter to circumnavigate Andoria.”
“Okay. Don’t panic, Boims,” Mariner warned. “But a little, blinky warning light relating to your subcutaneous communicator just went on.”
“What?” Boimler yelped. “What’s that mean?”
“It means the Kumari traveled completely around the entire planet,” sh'Reyan cocked her head to the side. “Any qualified Starfleet pilot should know the definition of ‘circumnavigate’.”
“Uh, I’m not exactly sure,” Mariner laughed nervously. “Funny story, the subcutaneous communicator I gave Tendi to implant in you isn’t exactly Starfleet issue. It’s actually a piece of contraband I ‘acquired’ that was once widely used by the Obsidian Order…”
“The Obsidian Order?!” Boimler cried.
“Huh?” sh'Reyan looked at him in confusion. “Why are you talking about the old Cardassian intelligence service? Wasn’t that organization wiped out years ago?”
“You stupid light! Why won’t you turn off?” Mariner was heard whacking the side of her tricorder. “Hmmm, maybe I should have paid more attention to Rutherford when he explained how to monitor this thing.”
“You think?!” Boimler shouted.
“Well I hope so! Records say the Obsidian Order was extremely ruthless,” sh'Reyan huffed gazing at Boimler. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re sweating and looking kind of pale.”
“Uh oh, better brace yourself, Boims,” Mariner warned. “I think the communicator is about to stop your heart or shock you or something…”
“AGGGHHHHHH! NO! I DON’T WANNA BE SHOCKED!” Boimler wailed throwing up his hands. “HELP! GET AWAY FROM ME!”
“Excuse me?” sh'Reyan was taken back. “I’ve never had a drinking companion say that to me before!”
“Oh boy, looks like the communicator is starting to overheat,” Mariner gulped. “I may have accidentally signaled it to self-destruct! Huh, I didn’t know they could do that.”
“WAUUUGGGHHHHHH! MY HEAD’S GOING TO BE BLOWN OFF!” Boimler shrieked clutching his face in panic. “THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING! I’M TOO YOUNG AND REPORTEDLY CUTE TO DIE! I STILL HAVE MY WHOLE CAREER AHEAD OF ME! THIS IS IT! TELL MY MOTHER I LOVED HER! NOOOOOOOOO!”
“Oh, hey! Good news, Boims!” Mariner chirped happily. “Your subcutaneous communicator isn’t about to self-destruct. The darn tricorder was just telling me its power cell is running low! False alarm, man! It’s all good!”
“Oh, thank goddess! I’m saved! I’m saved!” Boimler gasped slumping over the table in relief. He then realized the entire bar was staring at him in shock. He glanced up at sh'Reyan who was looking at him like he was insane. “Uh…”
“Um, you what, Brad? It’s been a long day,” sh'Reyan finally managed to get out. “I think I’m going to turn in.”
“What?!” Boimler yelped. “Wait! Don’t leave! I can explain!”
“Oh, I’m sure you can,” sh'Reyan carefully edged away from him. “This was…interesting, but I don’t think we should see each other for a while. Not until you see a ship’s counselor or three.”
“But I don’t need counseling!” Boimler pleaded.
“Riiight,” sh'Reyan said placatingly while quickly backing away. “Uh, it was nice chatting with you. See you later. Bye!”
“But, but, but…awww,” Boimler moaned and banged his head on the table as sh'Reyan practically ran out of the bar. “Why me? Why me?”
“Oops!” Mariner popped up from the corner booth she had been hiding in. “Uh, sorry Boims. My mistake. But hey, easy come, easy go. Right?”
“Mariner,” Boimler slowly turned and fixed her with a glare.
“Now, Boims. Don’t go all Khan on me,” Mariner chuckled nervously. “Ruining your date with Jennifer was an accident. I was just trying to help. Really! It was an honest mistake. My intentions were good, so there’s no need to…uh, what are you doing? Would you stop looking at me like that? You’re creeping me out! Boims? Boims?”
Meanwhile, in a corridor…
“Well, that was fun,” Rutherford said walking beside Tendi. “Sorry Captain Freeman kicked us out of the holodeck to do whatever important captain things that needed doing.”
“Aw, it’s okay,” Tendi said rubbing her neck. “To tell the truth, I still fell pretty uncomfortable handling a phaser. Maybe next time we could try something else, like going skeet shooting with shotguns.”
“Okey-dokey,” Rutherford smiled cheerfully. “We could try spicing it up by including a few historical figures like Isaac Newton or Albert Einstein or Stephen Hawking or…”
“Aaahhhhhh! Outta the way!” Mariner ran by in an unusually panicked state. “Mad Boimler on the loose!”
“COME BACK HERE!” An enraged Boimler chased after her while wielding a bucket of unshucked oysters. “YOU’RE GONNA PAY FOR THIS, YOU DATE WRECKER!”
“Ow! Hey, watch where you’re tossing those things?” Mariner yelped as she frantically attempted to avoid a barrage of thrown oysters. “What kind of crazy replicator program includes oysters that are still in their shells? Ackkk! Those things are sharp! YEOW!”
“O-kay,” Tendi blinked at her friends in surprise. “Guess this means Boimler’s date is over.”
“No kidding,” Rutherford whistled. “Looks like Mariner wasn’t nearly as helpful or discreet as she thought she’d be.”
“GET BACK HERE YOU COWARD!” Boimler howled. “I WOULD’VE FINALLY GOTTEN A NON-MOTHERLY KISS GOOD NIGHT IF IT WASN’T FOR YOU!”
“OW! STOP THROWING SHUCKED OYSTER SHELLS AT ME LIKE KLIGATS!” Mariner shouted. “DOES THIS LOOK LIKE CAPELLA IV TO YOU? YEEEOW! THAT HURTS! ACCCKKKKKK!”
“Uh, maybe we shouldn’t invite Boimler and Mariner to go skeet shooting with us for a while,” Tendi cringed as Mariner was heard yelping in pain. “At least not at the same time.”
“Good idea,” Rutherford winced as their friends continued to scream and shout at each other. “We’ll wait until things between the two of them cool down. Like when Boimler finally gets himself a girlfriend! How could Mariner ever have a problem with that?”
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Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: Lower Decks.
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Unwanted Wingman
“There, all done!” Rutherford smiled as he finished repairing a padd in the Repair Bay. “Good as new.”
“Whew! Thanks, Rutherford. You’re a lifesaver,” Boimler sighed in relief. “I have over a year’s worth of data, programs and personal files stored on there. I’d hate to lose them.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t that be a shame,” Mariner drawled sitting with her feet propped up on the work table. “All those letters from home reminding you to comb your hair, brush your teeth and wishing you good night. How would you ever manage to fall asleep without them?”
“Hey, my mom has a very comforting and soothing voice, okay?” Boimler blushed. “And there’s nothing wrong with enjoying a nice, heartfelt letter from home. I bet you’d feel the same way about getting a letter from your mom.”
“Wanna bet?” Mariner muttered under her breath.
“Here ya go, man,” Rutherford handed Boimler his repaired padd. “I also backed up all your padd’s files on this isolinear chip.”
“Really? That’s great!” Boimler smiled clutching his beloved padd. “Rutherford, you’re the best!”
“Eh, no problem,” Rutherford shrugged modestly. “So, you up for a few rounds of Velocity after the shift? Tendi agreed it might help her improve her phaser accuracy and I just uploaded a new targeting program to my implant last night.”
“Sorry, have to pass this time,” Boimler declined. “I have plans.”
“Ooo, what’cha gotta do, Boims?” Mariner smirked. “Spend another lonely evening in your little hidey closet making imaginary captain’s logs?”
“No,” Boimler glared at her. “I’ll be going to the bar later with Ensign sh'Reyan.”
“sh'Reyan?” Mariner blinked. “That cute Andorian command ensign with the ponytail?”
“Yep,” Boimler grinned smugly.
“Wow! How did you manage that?” Rutherford asked.
“Oh, it was nothing,” Boimler smiled leaning against the work table. “We were running systems checks on the starboard escape pods’ navigation systems right before the last ship evacuation drill. We ended up in the same escape pod, got to talking and agreed to go out for drinks.”
“Hey, that’s great, man! Congrats!” Rutherford said. “So, you two are going on a date?”
“Well, I wouldn’t call it a date,” Boimler waved modestly. “Oh, what am I saying? Of course I would!”
“Awww, that’s so cute!” Mariner reached up and pinched Boimler’s cheek. “Our little Boims is all grown up!”
“Ow! Stop it!” Boimler swatted Mariner’s hand. “Leggo! You’ll mess with my dimples!”
“I gotta hand it to ya, Boims. You sure know how to set ‘em up,” Mariner smirked. “Being stuck in a small, confined space together works wonders when it comes to asking a woman out. Of course, you being the only male around at the time obviously didn’t hurt either.”
“Hey, I’ll have you know there are plenty of non-holographic women who find me attractive!” Boimler protested indignantly. “I don’t need to resort to cheap setups or sneaky moves when it comes to asking a woman out! And for your information, I’m not the one who asked her out for drinks! She asked me!”
“She did?” Mariner blinked in surprise. “Huh, guess there’s a first time for everything. Just make sure you don’t blow your chance with her, Boims. It’ll probably never happen again.”
“Aw, I’m sure Boimler knows what he’s doing,” Rutherford smiled and gave his friend a thumbs-up. “Have a great time!”
“Thank you. I’m sure we will!” Boimler sniffed and stomped out of the repair bay.
“So, looks like it’ll just be you, me and Tendi for Velocity,” Rutherford turned to address Mariner. “Up for doing a three-way?”
“Eh, been there, done that. Not with you guys of course…oh, you mean Velocity,” Mariner realized. “Sorry, Ruthy. I’ll have to take a rain check.” She paused a moment before giving Rutherford a slow grin. “Though there is something you can help me with. Right after I find Tendi and ask her to do me one, little favor…
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Later…
“Hi, sh'Reyan!” Boimler waved as he greeted his fellow command ensign in the ship’s bar. “You look great.”
“So do you, Boimler,” The slim, female Andorian smiled joining him at a table. “And please call me Jennifer.”
“Okay. And you can call me Brad,” Boimler said sipping his synthale. “I didn’t know ‘Jennifer’ was an Andorian name.”
“Oh, it’s not. I was named after a human mentor of my zhavey’s,” sh'Reyan explained ordering a mojito. “They were very good friends.”
“Wow, that’s neat,” Boimler commented. “My parents named me after…”
“Hey, is this thing on?” Mariner’s voice suddenly rang in Boimler’s ear. “Hello? Hello? Man, how do you adjust the volume level on this thing?”
“Ahhh!” Boimler yelped and nearly spilled his drink.
“They named you after ah what?” sh'Reyan asked.
“Yo, Mariner to Boimler. Come in, Boimler. You there? Hello?”
“What the?” Boimler’s head darted around in surprise. “Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?” sh'Reyan looked at him strangely. “Are you okay?”
“Aha! You can hear me!” Mariner crowed. “‘Bout time this darn thing starting working.”
“Uh, yeah. I’m fine!” Boimler gave a strained smile while getting up from his seat. “Um, would you excuse me a minute? I have to go, uh…get some salt!”
“Salt?” sh'Reyan blinked as Boimler quickly moved away. “What kind of…?”
“Don’t worry! I’ll be right back!” Boimler laughed weakly before ducking behind the bar’s beverage wall. “Alright, Mariner! What the heck is going on? How are you contacting me?”
“Hey, Boims! Looking sharp!” Mariner was heard grinning. “Don’t bother looking around for me. I’m keeping myself out of you and your date’s line of sight, but with a great view of the action.”
“What?! Get out of here!” Boimler hissed while futilely glancing around. “How are you able to talk to me without sh'Reyan hearing you? Are you masking your voice from her with some kind of white-sound device?”
“Na, I had Tendi implant a subcutaneous communicator into you with a hypo,” Mariner explained.
“Is that why she asked me to report to Sickbay before I went off shift?” Boimler gasped. “I knew it was too early for my annual Tarkalean Flu vaccination!”
“Any-who, Rutherford helped me link the subcutaneous communicator to my tricorder and combadge so I could monitor you,” Mariner went on. “You really didn’t think I’d let you go on a date without a wingman, did ya?”
“I don’t need a wingman! Especially not you!” Boimler hissed. “Now deactivate the communicator and leave me alone before I…!”
“Uh oh. Better get back there, Boims,” Mariner warned. “Looks like sh'Reyan is starting to give Ensign P’jok the wandering eye.”
“WHAT?!” Boimler yelped and quickly returned to the table.
“I thought you were getting salt,” sh'Reyan said as Boimler returned. “Where is it?”
“Uh, salt?” Boimler scrambled for an explanation. “Oh yeah, salt. Um, they didn’t have any. I mean, I changed my mind! Sucking salt is a bad habit, am I right?”
“I guess so,” sh'Reyan looked at him oddly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Oh yeah, I’m fine! Never better! Ha, ha!” Boimler laughed nervously. “So, how about those new navigation systems? Pretty sophisticated for a bunch of escape pods, huh?”
“Seriously, Boims? That’s the topic you chose to bring up?” Mariner tisked. “Man, do you need help!”
“Yes, but the pods’ inertial dampeners probably need tuning,” sh'Reyan commented nursing her drink. “I’d hate to have to try piloting one of the those glorified flying torpedo casings manually.”
“Are you two really engaging in shop talk on a date?” Mariner chided Boimler. “C’mon, man! You can do better than that! Ask her something personal.”
“Uh…so, do you like flying?” Boimler asked.
“Oh yes. I love it!” sh'Reyan smiled. “My thavan is a commercial shuttle pilot. He used to take me flying through various planetary rings all the time when I was young. They were so pretty! Though my own piloting skills are kind of subpar.”
“Well, let me know if you’d ever like a piloting lesson or two,” Boimler offered. “I’m sure I could show you a few tricks to help bring your proficiency levels up.”
“Aw, that’s nice, Boims,” Mariner could be heard smirking. “I bet she’d love you to perform a few nocturnal maneuvers with her.”
“Erk!” Boimler choked on his drink.
“Thanks, I’ll think about it,” sh'Reyan said not noticing Boimler’s distress.
“Yep, you can show her every one of your patented nighttime moves,” Mariner went on. “Like drooling on your pillow, talking in your sleep, sucking your thumb…”
“I do not suck my thumb!” Boimler snapped. He then noticed sh'Reyan's shocked expression. “Uh, I mean…”
“Um, okay,” sh'Reyan was stunned. “I did not know that. Well, more like I did not need to know that.”
“Sorry! That’s not what I meant,” Boimler quickly fumbled for an excuse. “I meant to say I do not shuck my thumb when I’m cleaning…um…uh…oysters!”
“Oysters?” sh'Reyan blinked.
“Oysters?” Mariner repeated.
“Yeah, oysters,” Boimler nodded rapidly. “I used to shuck oysters when I was a kid working at this old seafood restaurant in San Francisco near the Academy. Mmmm, boy was the food there good!”
“Really? I haven’t eaten much non-replicated food before,” sh'Reyan looked impressed. “I’ll have to check it out the next time I’m on Earth.”
“It’s ‘Mestral’s Human-Vulcan Fusion Grill’,” Boimler provided the name. “Make sure to mention me to the maître d'. They’ll give you the special treatment. Well, there’s a chance they will anyway. I was only a porter there after all…”
“Wow, nice save, Boims,” Mariner approved. “I have to admit, I never would have come up with a crazy, wacked out story like that.”
“It’s not a crazy, wacked out story!” Boimler insisted. “It really happened!”
“Uh, sure,” sh'Reyan was slightly taken back. “Whatever you say.”
“Sorry,” Boimler gulped at his seemingly awkward behavior. “I’m just feeling a little inadequate right now.”
“A little?” Mariner quipped. “And what you mean ‘right now’?”
“Quiet!” Boimler hissed before gazing at sh'Reyan . “It’s because you’re so intelligent, capable, understanding and pretty.”
“Oh my,” sh'Reyan blushed dark blue. “Um, thanks.”
“‘Attaway, Boims. Pour on that ol’ Starfleet charm,” Mariner was heard grinning. “Hey, maybe you should offer to fix her seafood some time. Then you can see if oysters also act as Andorian aphrodisiacs.”
“PFFFT!” Boimler choked and spit synthale all over sh'Reyan.
“Ahhh!” sh'Reyan yelped in surprise.
“Geeze, Boims. Show a bit of control, will ya?” Mariner scolded.
“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!” Boimler babbled and frantically fumbled around for some napkins.
“Ah, it’s okay. This isn’t the worst thing someone’s ever spit up over me,” sh'Reyan said wiping her face. “Like during the whole rage virus incident. Inflected crew members biting people and spewing blood. What’s up with that?”
“Ugh, tell me about it,” Boimler groaned. “You know, I was the one who helped provide a cure for that virus.”
“You?” sh'Reyan looked at him in surprise. “I thought Doctor T’Ana developed it.”
“And me! Don’t forget my contribution,” Mariner reminded.
“Well, T’Ana helped out a little bit,” Boimler coughed. “But it was my experience with the Galardonians which really led to a cure.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Mariner quipped. “An experience you wouldn’t have had if not for me! Say it! Say it!”
“Aaand Mariner helped too,” Boimler admitted. “Kinda. Sorta. A little. Maybe.”
“Ensign Mariner?” sh'Reyan repeated for clarification. “Is she a friend of yours?”
“Well,” Boimler thought for a moment. “Technically…”
“Hey! Watch it, Boimler!” Mariner warned. “Would a real friend be doing what I’m doing with you right now?”
“Huh, that’s surprising,” sh'Reyan said sipping her mojito. “I wouldn’t have guessed that.”
“Really?” Boimler blinked. “Why?”
“Yeah, why?” Mariner asked. “It’s not that much of a stretch.”
“You two just seem so different,” sh'Reyan commented gesturing at Boimler. “You’re a cute, serious, by-the-book Starfleet officer and she seems like a competent but lazy, disrespectful loose cannon.”
“What was that?” Mariner’s voice grew cold. “Who’s that blue bimbo calling lazy?”
“Well, that’s not the worst description of Mariner I’ve ever heard,” Boimler allowed. “Wait, you think I’m cute?”
“And Mariner. I’ve heard rumors about her,” sh'Reyan leaned forward to whisper. “She was supposedly court martialed and demoted a year or so ago over a major scandal. Something so big it was classified Top Secret by Starfleet Command!”
“Really?” Boimler’s eyes widened. “What happened?”
“Don’t listen to her, Boims!” Mariner attempted to distract him. “She’s just spreading gossip! You can’t believe a word of it!”
“I’m not sure. Rumors vary from breaking rules to disobeying direct orders,” sh'Reyan said softly. “Her original punishment was supposedly to be dishonorably kicked out of Starfleet and thrown into prison, but she was saved by a last-minute intervention by some big-time admiral and a captain…”
“Really?” Boimler gasped. “Who were they?”
“AGGGHHH! THAT’S IT! DATE’S OVER!” Mariner hissed frantically. “BAIL, BOIMLER! BAIL!”
“Eh, don’t know. Rumors are surprisingly vague about them,” sh'Reyan shrugged leaning back. “Whoever they are, they have my sympathy for putting up with a crazy, messed up officer like her.”
“Uh, if you say so,” Boimler blinked.
“Why that stinking little taHqeq!” Mariner cursed. “I’ll show her messed up! I’ll mess up her internal organs and play Nausicaan dice with her vertebrate!”
“But like I said, those are just rumors and you seem like a good judge of character,” sh'Reyan raised her glass at Boimler. “If you consider her a friend, that’s good enough for me.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Boimler clinked his half-empty glass with hers. “So, tell me more about how you think I’m cute.”
“Alright, maybe I’ll forgive her a little bit,” Mariner grumbled. “A very little bit.”
“And Mariner is a crack shot with a phaser. Not to mention an expert with various kinds of melee weapons,” sh'Reyan went on. “She’s one of the top officers onboard who I’d want to have on my side in a fight.”
“Okay, I’ll forgive her a lot,” Mariner allowed. “But I’m gonna make her pay for that ‘messed up officer’ crack someday!”
“Uh, that’s nice,” Boimler coughed. “But enough about Mariner, tell me more about you. Do you have any hobbies?”
“A few,” sh'Reyan shrugged. “I enjoy mountain hiking, polar diving, classical music and historical holonovels.”
“Gee, what a cliché,” Mariner drawled. “Bet she also enjoys moonlight swims and long walks on the beach…uh oh.”
“Uh oh?” Boimler blinked.
“No, not ‘uh oh’. ‘Hero’,” sh'Reyan corrected. “It’s action-adventure holoprogram about the Kumari, the first ice-cutter to circumnavigate Andoria.”
“Okay. Don’t panic, Boims,” Mariner warned. “But a little, blinky warning light relating to your subcutaneous communicator just went on.”
“What?” Boimler yelped. “What’s that mean?”
“It means the Kumari traveled completely around the entire planet,” sh'Reyan cocked her head to the side. “Any qualified Starfleet pilot should know the definition of ‘circumnavigate’.”
“Uh, I’m not exactly sure,” Mariner laughed nervously. “Funny story, the subcutaneous communicator I gave Tendi to implant in you isn’t exactly Starfleet issue. It’s actually a piece of contraband I ‘acquired’ that was once widely used by the Obsidian Order…”
“The Obsidian Order?!” Boimler cried.
“Huh?” sh'Reyan looked at him in confusion. “Why are you talking about the old Cardassian intelligence service? Wasn’t that organization wiped out years ago?”
“You stupid light! Why won’t you turn off?” Mariner was heard whacking the side of her tricorder. “Hmmm, maybe I should have paid more attention to Rutherford when he explained how to monitor this thing.”
“You think?!” Boimler shouted.
“Well I hope so! Records say the Obsidian Order was extremely ruthless,” sh'Reyan huffed gazing at Boimler. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re sweating and looking kind of pale.”
“Uh oh, better brace yourself, Boims,” Mariner warned. “I think the communicator is about to stop your heart or shock you or something…”
“AGGGHHHHHH! NO! I DON’T WANNA BE SHOCKED!” Boimler wailed throwing up his hands. “HELP! GET AWAY FROM ME!”
“Excuse me?” sh'Reyan was taken back. “I’ve never had a drinking companion say that to me before!”
“Oh boy, looks like the communicator is starting to overheat,” Mariner gulped. “I may have accidentally signaled it to self-destruct! Huh, I didn’t know they could do that.”
“WAUUUGGGHHHHHH! MY HEAD’S GOING TO BE BLOWN OFF!” Boimler shrieked clutching his face in panic. “THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING! I’M TOO YOUNG AND REPORTEDLY CUTE TO DIE! I STILL HAVE MY WHOLE CAREER AHEAD OF ME! THIS IS IT! TELL MY MOTHER I LOVED HER! NOOOOOOOOO!”
“Oh, hey! Good news, Boims!” Mariner chirped happily. “Your subcutaneous communicator isn’t about to self-destruct. The darn tricorder was just telling me its power cell is running low! False alarm, man! It’s all good!”
“Oh, thank goddess! I’m saved! I’m saved!” Boimler gasped slumping over the table in relief. He then realized the entire bar was staring at him in shock. He glanced up at sh'Reyan who was looking at him like he was insane. “Uh…”
“Um, you what, Brad? It’s been a long day,” sh'Reyan finally managed to get out. “I think I’m going to turn in.”
“What?!” Boimler yelped. “Wait! Don’t leave! I can explain!”
“Oh, I’m sure you can,” sh'Reyan carefully edged away from him. “This was…interesting, but I don’t think we should see each other for a while. Not until you see a ship’s counselor or three.”
“But I don’t need counseling!” Boimler pleaded.
“Riiight,” sh'Reyan said placatingly while quickly backing away. “Uh, it was nice chatting with you. See you later. Bye!”
“But, but, but…awww,” Boimler moaned and banged his head on the table as sh'Reyan practically ran out of the bar. “Why me? Why me?”
“Oops!” Mariner popped up from the corner booth she had been hiding in. “Uh, sorry Boims. My mistake. But hey, easy come, easy go. Right?”
“Mariner,” Boimler slowly turned and fixed her with a glare.
“Now, Boims. Don’t go all Khan on me,” Mariner chuckled nervously. “Ruining your date with Jennifer was an accident. I was just trying to help. Really! It was an honest mistake. My intentions were good, so there’s no need to…uh, what are you doing? Would you stop looking at me like that? You’re creeping me out! Boims? Boims?”
Meanwhile, in a corridor…
“Well, that was fun,” Rutherford said walking beside Tendi. “Sorry Captain Freeman kicked us out of the holodeck to do whatever important captain things that needed doing.”
“Aw, it’s okay,” Tendi said rubbing her neck. “To tell the truth, I still fell pretty uncomfortable handling a phaser. Maybe next time we could try something else, like going skeet shooting with shotguns.”
“Okey-dokey,” Rutherford smiled cheerfully. “We could try spicing it up by including a few historical figures like Isaac Newton or Albert Einstein or Stephen Hawking or…”
“Aaahhhhhh! Outta the way!” Mariner ran by in an unusually panicked state. “Mad Boimler on the loose!”
“COME BACK HERE!” An enraged Boimler chased after her while wielding a bucket of unshucked oysters. “YOU’RE GONNA PAY FOR THIS, YOU DATE WRECKER!”
“Ow! Hey, watch where you’re tossing those things?” Mariner yelped as she frantically attempted to avoid a barrage of thrown oysters. “What kind of crazy replicator program includes oysters that are still in their shells? Ackkk! Those things are sharp! YEOW!”
“O-kay,” Tendi blinked at her friends in surprise. “Guess this means Boimler’s date is over.”
“No kidding,” Rutherford whistled. “Looks like Mariner wasn’t nearly as helpful or discreet as she thought she’d be.”
“GET BACK HERE YOU COWARD!” Boimler howled. “I WOULD’VE FINALLY GOTTEN A NON-MOTHERLY KISS GOOD NIGHT IF IT WASN’T FOR YOU!”
“OW! STOP THROWING SHUCKED OYSTER SHELLS AT ME LIKE KLIGATS!” Mariner shouted. “DOES THIS LOOK LIKE CAPELLA IV TO YOU? YEEEOW! THAT HURTS! ACCCKKKKKK!”
“Uh, maybe we shouldn’t invite Boimler and Mariner to go skeet shooting with us for a while,” Tendi cringed as Mariner was heard yelping in pain. “At least not at the same time.”
“Good idea,” Rutherford winced as their friends continued to scream and shout at each other. “We’ll wait until things between the two of them cool down. Like when Boimler finally gets himself a girlfriend! How could Mariner ever have a problem with that?”
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Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: Lower Decks.
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