How to Make Friend and Destroy His Liver

Posted on Tue Apr 10th, 2018 @ 7:08pm by

Mission: Mission 6 - Azzia
Location: Engineering Crawlspace N-5 - Hydroponics
Timeline: MD 05
2233 words - 4.5 OF Standard Post Measure

Lights flickered adding the briefest flashes to the long-forgotten crawlspace that ran below the Rose’s waste processing assembly. It had gone unused for years, now resembling a primordial cave more that the deck of a once proud ship of the line. Its ceiling was crisscrossed with the mineral deposits forming mini stalactites in places from untreated water percolating through the concrete decking above. The walls were a patchwork of soaked insulation and drooping conduits mixed with a glowing fungus that bathed the abandoned workspace in a dull green light. The steel gratings, that made up the deck plates, were long since clogged with night soil. A perfect habitat for the a small group of dung beetles that made it their home. An ecosystem that was undisturbed for years, until that very day.

A crease formed in the dark brown mat that me up the once shiny deck. The crease widened forming an almost perfect square until the piece of deck plating was forced up by a pair of boots kicking from underneath. The boots disappeared back into the opening only to be replaced by a pair of gloved hands that hoisted a figure covered in a dark slime into the space.

The figure was Deacon Kane, exhausted from his impromptu swim through the emergency battery stacks. He laid there, breathing heavily, as the slime oozed away revealing a dull glow, the effect from the old-style life support belt he wore. Within moments three smaller objects emerge from the opening, they too were covering in the dark ooze but it quickly dripped away to show the still gleaming surfaces of Huey, Dewey and Louie, three of Deacon’s DRD’s. They quickly oriented themselves, floating in a loose formation around Deacon’s head. Huey transmitted their current location and an inquiry for the group while Dewey dropped a communicator on Deacon’s chest, and Louie carefully placed Deacon's tool bag next to him on the deck.

“FAY-FAY duh PEE-yen!!!!!” Deacon screamed shaking in frustration and relief. Huey on the other hand expressed confusion insisting that their location was indeed correct and that it was highly improbable that they were in a baboon's rectum. This resulted in a laughing fit from Deacon as he struggled to wipe the filth off his pants.

Out of concern for his creator Huey then asked his counterparts if they'd been upgraded with any medical diagnostics. Dewey replied in the negative, while Louie stated more colorfully "I'm a Diagnostic Repair Drone, not a doctor Damn it!"
Huey then made yet another note that their creator should refrain from smoking Rea Leaf while upgrading any DRD systems, then waited patiently for Deacon's laughing fit to subside. Once it had Huey repeated for the third time their location was correct.

“Sorry Huey," Deacon replied taking in his surroundings, "I will defer to your scanners, this does appear to be the starboard access to battery stack area three, please add it to ship’s schematics.”

Looking at his chronometer, he couldn’t believe that only 15 minutes had passed since the gantry railing had given way tumbling him into the pool of viscous liquid below. After fumbling with the slime coated communicator, Deacon was finally able to flip it open. A couple of dozen small squiggly things dumped out into his face, prompting a new round of cursing as Deacon tried to call in.

“Kane to Engineering, Kane to Engineering,” he said, “Fenruse, you there?” but only static emitted from the tiny speaker, “Come on Selina, it’s Deacon, give me a sign here. Come back.” Again, only static. “Ok, in case you’re hearing me, I’m fine, just a little shaken. Though I think it'd be a good idea to add 'waste reclamation system' and 'bilge clean out' to our 'to do' list."

"I appear to be in starboard engineering crawlspace N-5, near hydroponics. I’ll find a way out and make my way back to engineering to report. By the way thanks for insisting on the LF Belt, came in handy, I owe you one.” More static. Deacon shrugged, Screw it he thought, Nothing you can do about it. Move your arse, Mr. Kane.

Getting up he carefully replaced the grating in the floor and went to investigate the access hatch at the end of the tiny corridor. No power went to the door, and even the manual override didn’t work. Deacon went into his tool bag and fished out his hammer and cat’s paw. He gritted his teeth as he hammered the short head of the paw into the door seal and started to pry the hatch open.

Paul's head tilted as he heard some muffled noises, "This old girl has more ghosts that a cemetery." Then the rhythmic thunking was heard and tapped his comm badge, "Security possible situation near my agricultural beverage experiment area." He walks along following the sound and once he locates it stands beside the panel his back against the wall, "If a single entitiy I can grab them by the back of their head, if they have one, as they enter. I really should have run and called security though. Might not be the best time to ignore Nuxon."

Just as Paul's back came to rest on the wall the panel next to him fell to the deck with a clatter. Almost immediately, and most unusually, the sweet fetid smells of the barnyard filled the area followed by the several beams of light that crisscrossed out through the opening, illuminating the carapaces of a half dozen beetles making their escape. Slowly, carefully, Huey, Dewey and Louie emerged followed closely by Deacon.

"Well boys, It looks better than that worm filled cesspool," Deacon said in Rigelian, "Not that that's saying much." As he stepped into the room with his eerily in golden glow of the life support belt. He just started breathing easier when Louie squealed a whistle of alarm. The engineer tried spinning around, but his movement was checked as a metallic hand grabbed side of his head. Fortunately the thin layer of slime that still covered him made any purchase on his skull impossible. Unfortunately that same slime tumble Deacon to the floor as arm his flailed up in a lame attempt to hit his attacker.

As he fell his tool bag spilled everywhere. Grasping for the first tools he could find he rolled back to his feet to find he was ready to bludgeon on his attacker with a roll of duct tape and a can of WD-40. "This day couldn't get any worse." he thought focusing on his opponent in the low light of the compartment, his brain then identified the red borg ocular glowing in the shadows, "Oh Jebeš me teško i plačite me." he lamented out loud to karma.

Paul flicks a foot out to kick the unknown solid obect from the person's hand then reaches out to grasp two of the floating bots before their lights turn on him turning them towards Deacon, "Procreation and fluid leakage unwarranted. State designation yourself species three two five nine." He uses the lights to keep his guest slightly blinded as he peaks backwards for a moment to check the hole, "Comply"

"Designation Deacon Kane," Deacon replied, his right hand throbbing from the kick, "Engineering Contractor, hired Gregnol, Reuben, Captain, stardate,,,,, I forget." It was all Deacon could do not to laugh, as he tried to look threatening with a roll of adhesive. "And it took me three months to build those DRD's, Mr. Bravo Oscar, so be careful." he yelled, "And now that we're done with the witty banter, you girlie Mary, shall we dance?"

Paul releases the DRD's and chuckles, "These DRD's are well built. My holding them won't harm them beyond normal wear." He taps his comm badge as the DRD's swing around to highlight him, "Security please ignore my last transmission, just a foul mouthed engineer trying to reroute a sewer into Hydroponics." Paul tilts his head, "Now Mr Kane, I believe you will fight the light's command interface behind you to the right."

With his paranoia starting to subside Deacon groped for the panel. Most of the lights slowly flickered on, filling the bay with a pulsating fluorescent light revealing his opponent to be a Free Borg. "Apologies," Deacon said, "For my hostile intent and insulting manner." He had dealt with one or two of these liberated cyborgs in the past, "Can you state your designation and function?"

"Ah that song and dance. No no I wasn't uplifted long enough for one of those. Legally speaking I'm Paul Cullars, scientist focused on hydroponics," he waves a hand with the telltale silver sheen on it, "Which leads your sudden entrance a bit of providence on my part since you aren't a hostile semi ghost collector stowaway. The refuse you were bathing in will lower power consumption to yield on my plants."

Deacon shook his head yielding to the insanity of the universe, "Ok, I'll just pretend I understood 50% of what you just said so we can move along," Deacon replied, "I'd shake your hand but well you know. Wait you said hydroponics? Have a hose I can borrow to my tools, DRD's, and my sorry butt?"

Paul chuckled and pointed to a corner, "Sure go ahead. I honestly don't understand 15% of what I say or see daily so I sympathize. What brings you down to the boring section of this old bird? Most avoid it out just cause I'm down here." He plucked one of the bettles that was running from the floor plate, "And you little one are going into terrium so I can find out your lifecycle yes I am."

Deacon snorted, not completely sure the cyborg was joking but sure he was a good egg, "Well, I hadn't planned to come down to this section, yet. I started in the primary battery stack about a couple hundred meters astern of us." He explained as they made way toward the hydroponics bay, "A railing on one of the gantries gave way and dumped me in that 'soup." Ended up swi,,,,," Deacon suddenly checked his stride.

"Hello," he said looking at a contraption in the corner, he studied it for a moment, "THIS is not standard equipment, is my thinking." narrowing his eyes at Paul he smiled and asked, "What are you using for the mash? Corn? Potatoes"? Or are you just sticking with sugar?"

Paul chuckled, "These are the test batches so a little of everything, I'm trying out non-earth plants and vegtables. Getting the right seeds or cuttings taking a fair bit of gold pressed latnium but I'll win that back soon as I get to a Tongo table. Last week's batch had the nasty habit of combining into a sedative jell in your liver. Klingon's have the oddest plants." He stepped over to get a little bottle, "This one however is on the list of potentials. It has some off portions so its costly to make but its got a lemon like flavor, but boy for a few seconds after the first sip it feels like someone took a hard object and smacked your brain with it."

Deacon carefully tasted a drop of the brew coming out of the end of the worm resulting in a coughing fit, "I see what you mean, " Deacon croaked, "I actually no I don't. Think I went blind there for a second." Breathing out he added, "Seriously any more than two jiggers of that would put the dullest, most by-the-book Vulcan cleric up on a bar in stilettos, yodeling mountain shanties and swearing he's the king of the Siam in a pointy hat!" Then putting his hand to his head added, "And the finish makes Romulan ale look like carrot juice. Have you considered adding a 'thumper' to your set up?"

Paul shook his head after placing the bottle back, "Still working out how I made that actually. Had some brain damage on my last mission while on the Viking...and for some weird reason the ship's system shows me here that whole night brewing this. Either I was sleep-brewing or I was black out drunk....worst part was my creepy eye was covered the whole time by a eye patch I found on my face when I woke up....which I have no idea were I got it."

Paul shrugged, "In any case its my goal to recreate something similar but without that ten or twenty second occular reset. Made lots of paint thinner so far."

"Ah, the ancient art of distillation. Takes minutes to understand, years to master, " Deacon replied slapping Paul on the shoulder, "Tell you what, Mr. 'Legally speaking I'm Paul Cullars,' I'll take you down planetside in the AM. We can talk to some friends I know about your setup here, and go buy us some supplies." then he offered Paul his hand, "By the way, you can call me 'Monk,' most of my friends do. Now how about that hose?"

Paul chuckled and helped Deacon get cleaned up a bit, "I've no nicknames beyond 'Is that HIM' so Paul is fine. Or if you step up to my Tongo table Grand Nagus."

OFF::

Paul Cullars
Hydroponics Operator
SS Mary Rose

Deacon Kane
Engineering Contractor
D & T Resupply