First Impressions...

Posted on Thu Sep 28th, 2017 @ 6:32am by

Mission: Mission 4 - Combustion
Location: Crew Mess Hall
Timeline: MD 05 / 1200 hours
907 words - 1.8 OF Standard Post Measure

Picking up his tray of food, Micheal turned to find an empty chair. While the few tables were not all full, everyone seemed to be deeply engrossed in their own concersations. Every table, that is, for one. Against the far bulkhead, he saw a single person sitting at a table for four. He noticed that the rest of the room seemed to do their best to avoid the man sitting at it. Micheal decided not to be like them.

As he approached, he saw why the man was being avoided. The evidence of Borg assimilation was obvious by the cybernetic eye and other small details. During his time in Starfleet, he had heard about how, over the years, there had been dozens of lucky Borg survivors. Those that had been assimilated at one time, being rescued and rehabilitated. Unfortunately for most, some of the cybernetic implants could never be removed. That simply fact would make it difficult for the civilian populous to accept them. Thankfully, Micheal was not one of those uneducated souls.

"May I join you, partner?" He asked as he approached the table.

Paul blinks and nods and waves a hand to a seat nearby, "Of course." He smiles and sips at his drink, "Ensign...sorry Paul Cullars. Pleasure to meet you."

Micheal smiled a warm smile as he lowered his large frame into the chair opposite Paul. "Same to you, Paul. I'm Micheal Robertson, the recently appointed Security Chief for the Mary Rose." After sitting, he glanced over Paul's right shoulder, at a few crewmen who were watching the pair, a mixture of hate and fear in their eyes as they looked at Paul's back. Upon making eye contact with Micheal's hard stare, they decided that they suddenly needed to be somewhere else.

As the group left, Micheal looked back at Paul, the friendly smile crossing his face again. "So, an ensign, huh? What was your last assignment before leaving the Fleet?"

Paul sighs, "Sorry from my counselling sessions it seems that most folks like me have no end of identity issues." He sips at his drink and quirks his real eyebrow up as Micheal looks over his shoulder, "No need to bother with them. Forcing them to pretend to like me just invites rule fourty eight, The bigger the smile, the sharper the knife."

He shakes his head and scratches at the edge of his artificial eye, "But anyway I was on the USS Viking. We had some mix of shore leave and diplomatic activities at a big auction on Ferenginar. Some stuff happened with one of the enterprising scientist decided to follow rule fifty two, Never ask when you can take. Sadly I was what he took, two of my fellow crewman rescued me after he'd tinkered with my implants. Sending me back to Daystrom for evaluations. Round two of that had me tossing my combadge on their desk when my implant caught a counseler telling another one that I was ear marked for the never promote as a security risk."

He stabs a bit of food, "Only thing I want to do is work with plants, play some tongo and relax to a nice lobe massage. I kept up with my medical check ups, they don't know that some of the implants transmit pain when messed with and they likely wouldn't care." He shoves the bite into his mouth and after swallowing sighs, "Sorry curse of a my implants is that letting things go is a tad harder when it can be partially recalled instantly."

He sips at his drink, "Security wise I don't intend to wander anywhere outside of my work area, the path back to my quarters and maybe here once a week when I get a bit lonely. And if you want I don't mind being tagged if you want as long as you are honest about doing so."

Micheal shook his head over the overload of information he has just heard. " Whoa! Easy, partner! No one is saying anything about tagging you in any way. I'm just here to see if you'd like a friend on the ship?"

Paul blinked and set his fork down, "Oh...yes? I mean that would be great, but despite all this." He points at his face implant with his until now hand that sat in his lap that has hints of silver peaking out of his skin, "I'm really boring unless you want to talk about farming or the depressing borg stuff I'm not that good at the socializing. "

Micheal's face warmed with an easy grin. "Hey, no worries, Bub. I'll get ya more well-rounded, even if it's the last thing I do." He winked playfully as he started to chuckle. He got a good feeling from Paul. Sure, he'd certainly been given the fuzzy end of the lollypop during his life, he still seemed like a genuinely good person. Micheal would enjoy spending time with the young man.

"Well-rounded? I'm not sure what you mean by that but I'll try to not embarrass you to much."

This caused Micheal to grin again. "Don't worry about that, Paul. Just be comfortable and try to keep an open mind when it comes to new experiences. I'm sure that in a few weeks, you'll fit in here just fine."


End


Paul Cullars
Hydroponics Operator
S.S. Mary Rose

Micheal Robertson
Security Chief / Bounty Hunter
SS Mary Rose / Shuttle Alexandria