A Delicate Waltz

Posted on Sun Feb 5th, 2023 @ 11:27am by Oliver Lucas & Chief Operations Trades & Evelyn Reynolds

Mission: Mission 16: Hysperia
Location: Sickbay
Timeline: MD03
1404 words - 2.8 OF Standard Post Measure

"Little over to the left. I think there's a crate of something way back there if you can reach it."

Like much of the rest of the ship, the refitting of Sickbay was a continual work in progress that had been somewhat impeded by slower delivery times. When she'd first agreed to stay on in some sort of senior capacity, Evelyn had been full of her own ideas for refurbishment but hadn't been aware that Gregnol had already authorised several upgrades in light of recent events and the personnel losses sustained. Aside from bringing some of the outdated equipment up to code, the greatest impact so far had been the increase in supplies, since the deficiencies of depleted stores had become brutally apparent during their recent ordeal. Ordering more things was all well and good in theory, but someone had to be responsible for organising the lot of it.

Oliver, currently standing on a chair, was breaking several health and safety codes as it was.

Stationed just below, her hand curled around the walking cane she used more as moral support than out of dire physical need, Evelyn stood ostensibly prepared to catch him if he stumbled, though it would have been anyone's guess as to how that would turn out if the need arose. She craned upwards, trying once again to see what was tucked way back on the shelf they were currently clearing off in preparation for reorganisation.

"If that's a full box of hypo cannisters, I'm going to scream."

"I'd rather you didn't..." Oliver grumbled, stretching virtually on his tiptoes. "Stop trying to look yourself and just hold the chair."

As a general rule upgrades were a good thing. If manage properly. Upgrades meant more power usage, at least during the upgrading. Depending on the equipment ongoing power consumption might be an issue. Trades didn't pay much attention to his surrounding as he walked. He was focused on his scanner as it traced the power flow through to this section. From what he understood Sickbay was still be worked on and while that was happening there was a spotty relay that was causing a fluctuation. Minor now, if it would be minor in the future was what he needed to determine.

The scanner picked up biological signatures, "That doesn't look safe."

A lot could be conveyed in a single glance. Evelyn, by dint of social inheritance, had an innate sense of reservation that made it difficult to read too far beneath her surface. The turn of her head and the length of time that passed before she spoke gave some indication, at the very least, that she hadn't anticipated any visitors. That she hadn't expected this particular visitor was possibly implied, though just as likely not. She was as unpredictable as she was unreadable.

"Our access ladders were removed recently and not returned," she eventually offered by way of explanation, her attention returning to Oliver's precarious antics. "We were forced to improvise."

"I said hold the-" Oliver protested, a futile gesture as the chair slipped out from under him. There wasn't time to deem whether that was down to the distraction or just to the inevitability of these things, as he fell all the same. He didn't hit deck, however. Instead he tumbled into Evelyn's arms. Somehow, despite the size difference, Oliver ended up in some sort of damsel pose - as though about to be carried over the threshold, one might imagine - and blinking in surprise at the newcomer.

The clatter of a walking cane hitting the ground was evidence enough that Evelyn could manage her priorities swiftly enough.

It was an 'I told you so moment' and Trades really wanted to be the one to say so, but he didn't. "I'll um leave you to it then," he said, checking the scanner and moving off to the malfunctioning relay.

The flippancy of his tone prompted a frown but Evie, rather than squander her focus chastising an unfamiliar Cardassian, instead focused on helping the man she held awkwardly into a better standing position. "Okay, a chair was a stupid idea. Are you okay?"

"Uh...oh. Yes." He awkwardly brushed the creases out of his clothing. "Maybe you were right about the chair."

"It may not be my place to say so," Trades said pulling off the cover to access the offending device, "but if you are in need of a ladder, or lifter, or rocket boots, I could allocate some resources."

"We don't want to cause any trouble or anything...just that neither of us are particularly tall..." Oliver said apologetically.

"I believe that it would fall under my purview as Chief Operations Officer, so it wouldn't be trouble," Trades answered candidly. "If fact rather than trouble, it would more likely be classified as responsibility."

It was news to Evelyn but she'd honestly not been on board long enough to have a clear idea of who the original crew was outside general recognition. Still of a mindset to view herself as a visitor, albeit a currently useful one, she glanced sideways at Oliver and, when he predictably said nothing, took it upon herself to state the obvious. "Uh, welcome on board then. We've been putting together a list of items that either got accidentally relocated during the recent stockpiling or were simply missing entirely to begin with." A very slow lean sideways saw her nudge Oliver with an elbow.

"Thank you," Trades replied, "And the list can be left with me as soon as it is ready. You might need to track me down first I don't think I have an office on board."

"Huh." Oliver shrugged. "The man who can get us anything we need and he hasn't found himself an office yet?" He glanced at Evelyn, wondering if she picked up on the same irony.

"It's not as if there isn't a sufficient amount of empty space to be claimed," Evelyn pointed out, thinking purely in terms of the rest of the Science department that sat outside the one lab they'd managed to commandeer for training purposes. "Though at the rate the Captain is recruiting, that may not be the case for long. Evelyn Reynolds," she tacked on by means of introduction, hand pressed against her own chest before extending towards her partner. "And Oliver Lewis. Between us, and Beya when she's present, we are arguably responsible for this circus."

"Trades, most people call me Trades," he said awkwardly. He hadn't taken time to think about how to introduce himself to other crew members. The various conversations he'd had in his head with imaginary people, didn't cover how they might react to his nick name. Although his conversation with the Captain the day before had pointed out that it had been a long time since the events that scarred him, the name was still his first shield.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr... Trades."

From where she stood, Evelyn surreptitiously elbowed Oliver in the side.

"Hm? Oh. Yes, good to meet you," Oliver mumbled. "Is that your actual name?" he asked, possibly slipping out of social convention, but the idea of a Cardassian with that kind of name seemed particularly out of the ordinary.

"As far as you know," Trades replied breaking eye contact. "It's just Trades, no mister or sir or such. I'll see what I can do about those items you need." Was this going to be harder than he thought? He didn't want questions but they were natural. As was curiosity for just about very species that chose to fly the stars. The rely replaced, Trades put back the cover and stood to leave.

Evelyn shared a look with Oliver once more, this one a little more loaded with wariness. Secretive people had motives, after all, and she was naturally predisposed to keep her guard up around anyone arriving on board now even if there was a current recruitment drive to explain it. Unaware that it probably served as some relief to the Cardassian in any case, the doctor sought a swift departure from the conversation that would allow all parties to return to their current priorities.

"We will tally up what is missing and send through a requisition order." Evelyn winced at how much that sounded like Starfleet protocol. Old habits. "Take your time with it, the Captain seems to intend for us to be drydocked a while longer yet."