Age is only a number

Posted on 15 Aug 2014 @ 9:56pm by Lieutenant Oren Idris Ph.D. & Petty Officer 3rd Class Ellsworth Hudson

4,225 words; about a 21 minute read

Mission: Episode 06 - Legend of Souls
Location: USS Galileo - Deck 6, Operations
Timeline: MD07 - 1800hrs

[ON]

With the arrangements made with the transporter chief, Oren checked the chronometer. It was already late in his shift and, knowing that all he had to look forward to in his lab was reconstructing artifacts, he just couldn't bring himself to make the long trek to his quarters to finally change into his uniform. The fact that he hated wearing the darn thing was secondary to his decision to stick with his current outfit.

Wanting to plan ahead, Oren checked the manifest, trying to find the quartermaster. If his and Kita's plan worked even partially, they would need a large area to put what remained of the tribbles and who knew the state of the storerooms better than the ship's quartermaster?

"Ellsworth Hudson," Oren read out loud. Human, from what he gathered through the name alone. On his previous posting, the quartermaster had been a grumpy old Tellarite who made you sign paDD and paDD to get something simple after a twenty minute argument on why you don't need the thing in the first place.

Oren missed him.

Deciding to call ahead, Oren tapped his commbadge.

"Doctor Idris to Petty officer Hudson."

Though obviously harried from mounting a desperate defense against the invading tribble hordes at Supply Storage on Deck 5, Ellsworth still managed to keep his hair perfectly coifed. Otherwise, he looked like a man on the brink.

"Go ahead, Dr. Idris," Ellsworth said, tapping his commbadge. He thought he vaguely remembered transferring the personal effects of someone with that name, but the past week was nothing but a blur for him.

"I was wondering if you had a moment? I'd like to discuss something with you." Oren was surprised by how young the other man's voice was. "Preferably in person? I'd come to you, of course."

"Storage supply, deck 5," Ellsworth replied hastily, then severed the connection. His nerves were already frayed from dealing with the tribbles getting into everything, and now someone with "doctor" in front of their name wanted to speak to him about "something." He'd learned pretty quickly that usually meant they'd misplaced their biomimetic gel and it was somehow his fault.

-----

Storage supply on deck 5 looked like a warzone. Operations personnel and even a few crewmen from other departments seemed to be trying to set up some containment field. The corridor of the room was lined with doors, behind which sat all manner of supplies and materiel from emergency rations to warp coils to replacement ODN junctions. As an internal storage area they didn't have the luxury of bolting everything to the floor and venting tribbles into space as they'd been doing in the cargo bays; instead, they had to go the very manpower intensive route of hand-removing them and trying desperately to keep them away from anything they might consume.

The focus of the effort seemed to be at the end of the hallway where the diminutive and foppish quartermaster was coordinating efforts to secure anything the tribbles might find edible. A thin sheen of sweat from physical exertion and nerves gave his face a glow.

The doors swishing open went completely unnoticed and, as soon as Oren stepped into the storage area, he realised his plan probably wasn't going to work. If the other storage rooms were half as bad as this one, he couldn't imagine a way for them to completely clear one out. The day the infestation began, maybe, but now it looked like a lost cause.

Still, it would only be polite to greet the man he'd contacted, so Oren asked around the room and was immediately sent to what appeared to be the youngest man there. Only Oren himself looked younger but he seriously doubted that officer Hudson was a fellow El Aurian. Going up to him, Oren gently tapped his arm.

"Officer Hudson?"

Ellsworth laughed and started to reply even before turning around. "That's a generous-" He cut himself off when he came face-to-face with the new arrival. He blinked hard, trying to recall the young man from a personnel file, but he'd definitely fallen behind with his commitment to meet with each crewmember individually. Maybe he was one of the miners? That seemed next to impossible - even the miners in that trashy "Lonely Miners of Yulanie IV" holoprogram weren't this good looking.

"Uh," Ellsworth began again, an unflattering look of confusion on his face. Not being able to be with K'os, much less see him, was obviously beginning to take a toll. He'd been staring for far too long. He cleared his throat and flashed his best smile, slipping into a familiarly flirtatious spirit. "What can I do for you? Oh! Are you... Wait. Are you...Dr. Idris?"

The smile faded a little bit. No way this guy was a doctor. He was even younger than Ellsworth, which had to put him even lower on the food chain and no one down there was a doctor. Besides, how did you complete a doctorate in that amount of time? Only a genius could manage it, and he desperately hoped this guy wasn't some sort of savant. Even devastatingly handsome savants were impossible to talk to; he'd be outclassed in conversation in minutes.

Smiling brightly, Oren gave a small but loose nod. "Yes, I am. But, just call me Oren, please," he told him. "It's a pleasure," he added with a small, respectful nod. He wasn't at all bothered by Hudson's staring and it showed in his relaxed and open demeanor towards him. He was accustomed to people being surprised by his appearance and, considering how rare his people were, most didn't connect the dots even after he informed them of his heritage.

Ellsworth had fully recovered his grace and seemed much more at ease. Crewmen were bustling around them, but he thought they could supervise themselves for a few minutes. In fact, they would probably have just preferred if he left with Dr. Idris; the overwhelming majority of the crew was older than him and many seemed to resent taking orders from someone so much younger.

"All right, Oren it is. I'm much more comfortable with Ellsworth or Ells than Officer Hudson," Ellsworth said, allowing his cheeks to flush in embarrassment. The last beautiful genius he'd met had been an insufferable prick, a client on Risa that enjoyed throwing his education in Ellsworth's face almost as much as he enjoyed...other things. At least this one was polite. So far. "Did you need help with acquiring something? I hope we haven't misplaced any of your belongings, have we?"

"Oh, no! No worries there, you and your team have done a wonderful job," Oren assured him, not wanting him to get the wrong impression. "There's still a couple of things I'd like to transfer over, but all of that can wait until we've settled this entire, fluffy mess." He motioned to the rest of the room and tribbles. "Which is what I wanted to talk to you about," he said, moving onto the core subject of his visit. "I was wondering if there was any way to clear one storage room of all cargo so that we could seal it and then put tribbles into it? Right now, I know a lot of departments are placing tribbles in small quarantined areas, but I think a larger room may be necessary. There's a couple of things in the works on how to control the tribble infestation, but having a room free for them would be a big help. So, I thought, who knows where everything is better than you?" he finished, motioning to the other man. Finished, he looked up at the Betazoid, meeting the man's eyes with his own intense, green gaze.

Ellsworth began grappling for a PADD he thought was nearby, but seemed reluctant to look away. His lips curled at the edges in a half-smile/half-smirk and he finally turned away, locating the PADD just a few inches away from where his fingertips.

"Let's see," he muttered, pulling up some data on the PADD. He turned away from it to a passing operations officer, lifting an eyebrow in question. "Is the primary starboard supply storage still sealed?"

"So far."

Ellsworth pursed his lips and turned back to the PADD for a brief moment before flicking his eyes up to look at Oren. "We've managed to seal off one of the supply storage rooms on the starboard side of the ship with some low-level forcefields set at a frequency that seems to deter the tribbles. It's holding so far, at least until they manage to interfere with the power systems or achieve a critical mass around one of the field emitters. It's basically the twin of this room - smaller storage lockers on both sides of the corridor and a larger locker at the end there. How big of an area did you need?"

The Betazoid was thankful that he at least sounded professional, even if his eyes were roaming a bit. Seven days into his first mission, and he was already struggling with the "discipline" of life aboard a starship.

With every word, Oren looked even more bubbly than he usually did. A wave of relief had flooded over him at the prospect of hope their plan may actually have a chance. "Actually, if our plans work, a room like this might be perfect!" he exclaimed. "Ugh, I'm so happy right now, I could kiss you," he said freely, but then caught himself. Clearing his throat, he refocused his efforts on picking imaginary lint off of his shirt. "But I won't," he assured him, lowering the tone of his voice down a notch for professionalism's sake.

"Because that would be incredibly inappropriate," Oren added unnecessarily.

Though he was far from being a telepathic great, Ellsworth could still get a vague sense for the thoughts and feelings of those around him and right now his colleagues seemed to be greatly entertained. He thought he heard one snicker and saw another cut his eyes toward the pair, but he couldn't be certain. Regardless, they'd worked with him long enough to know he was an interminable flirt (not that it took long to figure out) and seemed to find the situation amusing.

"Well, you know, I was accepting kisses until just a few days ago when Lieutenant Zhao told me that was conduct most unbecoming for a member of Starfleet and that a job well done was it own reward," Ellsworth said. He poked out an already pouty looking lip, trying to look upset about it, but his dark eyes were all playful and mischievous. "Uh, if you'd like, I could show you the storage area? If you have the time, I mean, and I could put in the work order to keep it clear and place it under your supervision."

One of the nearby ops officers caught a laugh in his throat by pretending to break into a coughing fit. Though his mouth was covered by his arm, his eyes were still laughing at Ellsworth when the young Betazoid shot him a look. Everyone in the room knew there was absolutely no reason to show Dr. Idris the storage area; the starboard side storage area was an exact mirror of the port side storage area they were standing in. Ellsworth knew it, too, of course, but wasn't it important to be polite and courteous and helpful to members of the crew?

"Actually, I'd love that!" Oren agreed happily, but didn't miss the energy shift in the room at his and Ellsworth's exchange. He was an empath, after all, and after so many years, he could definitely read a room. But he was curious about the Betazoid, so he agreed despite the suggestiveness of the offer. As the two proceeded to leave the room, Oren glanced back at the crew, making sure to give them his best serious, judging expression. Why couldn't people just mind their own business?

Ellsworth knew he'd never hear the end of their gossiping when he came back, but at least for the few minutes it took to walk to the other side of the ship he could leave his crew and the tribble problem behind. He set a comfortable pace and resisted the urge to reach out for Oren's hand; it was a perfectly acceptable gesture on Betazed but Ellsworth knew it was often misinterpreted as being highly suggestive by other races, and he definitely didn't want to scare away the very young, very handsome, very well-spoken doctor.

"So, Oren, are you here on a temporary mission specific posting, or will you be with us for awhile? I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to look at your personnel file... I was going down the list meeting with crewmembers to make sure they were settled and comfortable, but the tribble issue interrupted that. I've come to hate those damn things."

"But they're so cute!" Oren said, sounding almost frustrated by the contradiction that was to what an absolute menace they've become.

"Oh, I'm here to stay," he informed him. "And it's alright." Oren shrugged. "I really had very little to transfer from DS9 and, considering the uniform I have to wear, most of what I planned to transfer over will probably be useless anyway," Oren admitted. Growing up with a mother like his, he'd learned early on that appearances meant a lot, especially the clothes one wore. He'd also learned to appreciate the process of actually tailoring them to ones own measurements.

He leaned closer to Ellsworth, whispering conspiratorially. "Honestly, the fact that I had a lot of work today was only a small part of my excuse to wear civvies," he admitted with a grin.

Ellsworth returned the grin, looking more than a little excited at the prospect of discussing clothes with someone. "I wish I could wear something other than this." He picked at his uniform and frowned. It was bespoke but still hideous as far as he was concerned. "I tried to tell them it offended my cultural sensibilities by having to wear something that makes me look like a mortician, but Lieutenant Zhao didn't seem the least bit amused. I don't think any Betazoid would be willingly caught in anything this....utilitarian."

"I know!" Oren said, agreeing enthusiastically. "I hate looking like a total tool in this!" he said, rolling his eyes at the entire idea. "And yeah, I tried the whole 'cultural sensibility' thing too, with exactly the same amount of success." He had thought people would allow it considering they knew so little about his culture, but no such luck.

Being a little freer than maybe he should have, Ellsworth reached over and pulled at the hem at Oren's hip as they walked slowly down the corridor. He gave the cloth an appraising look and then released it, nodding with some obscure sense of satisfaction at the feel, elasticity and fit of the other man's clothing. He looked up to meet his eyes and gave a flirtatious smile that lacked all subtlety (not that he generally had any). "This looks good on you."

"I know," Oren returned with playful arrogance that looked completely foreign on him. He'd always enjoyed the company of Betazoids. They were so free and uninhibited in their displays of emotions that he found it incredibly refreshing when compared to the more stuck up Human expression, which was filled with mixed signals and prejudice.

Ellsworth rolled his eyes at the display but then grinned and laughed, placing a hand on Oren's arm and giving him a very gentle shove. He felt more than a little heady from the flirtatious nature of their conversation and knew he should probably rein himself in, but it was too much of a release to stop. He'd flirted his way through the entire operations department (with the exception of Keval) in the span of three days with disappointing results. K'os was so busy in engineering that they literally hadn't seen one another at all in an entire week, which felt like an eternity for Ellsworth. So up to this point his duty shifts and off-time had seemed like all work and no play, which made for a very bored Betazoid boy.

"Wait... Cultural sensibilities? I thought Terrans designed these uniforms. You're not human?" Ellsworth asked, brow knit together in genuine confusion. He could feel the answer to the question immediately after asking it and began blushing prematurely.

"El Aurian," Oren supplied with a smile, hoping it would set Ellsworth at ease instead of add to his embarrassment. "Everyone thinks I'm Terran," he added with a shrug. "It's a little frustrating at times but amazing for practical jokes."

Hearing it out loud made his stomach feel like it was dropping two decks below them. His earlier sense of giddiness quickly soured into something else that left him feeling a little like there was no air in the corridor.

"Great Fire, you must be like 800 years old or something, I am so sorry, Dr. Idris, I am so, so sorry," Ellsworth blurted, tripping over his own words. To his knowledge he'd never met an El Aurian, but he knew they were all ancient and imperishable. And probably not the least bit interested in the flirtatiousness of some twenty year old kid, just too polite and wise to say anything about it. Oh, fates, I touched his pants.

Oren's eyes widened at the sudden display from the Betazoid. "Oh Prophets, Ells, calm down," he said gently, taken aback. He reached over and placed a calming hand on Ellsworth's arm. "Ellsworth, I assure you, I am not 800 years old," he said with a small laugh at the idea. "I'm only seventy-five, which means that by my people's standards, I'm practically a teenager. Please don't let that stand in the way of anything between us. I like you," he revealed with an honest smile.

"Your company is actually refreshing and I don't mean that in any patronizing kind of way," Oren explained, giving his arm a small squeeze. He was often incredibly frustrated with the way people treated him once they realised he was El Aurian. As if he was some kind of all knowing source of infinite wisdom when he actually had trouble planning his day to day activities. He hated that pressure of having to look and act like he was some old, mature, eternal being instead of being the insecure mess he knew he was. He only hoped Ellsworth would understand that he truly meant what he said.

"Oh, only 75. A teenager," he repeated. Was that better, or worse?

Ellsworth let out a breath he hadn't realize he was holding. He was more sensitive to someone patronizing him than most people would be, if only because he'd had to endure it so often. He was well aware that he wasn't the brightest member of Starfleet, a fact that some others loved to lord over him. It was one of his deepest seated insecurities, made all the worse by being surrounded by experts and sitting through staff meetings without a single worthwhile thing to contribute.

As he worked through things in his head, his smile returned slowly. He didn't sense any arrogance or deception from the El Aurian, and that helped put him at ease. "I like you, too." You're cute, he left unsaid. "There aren't many people on the ship our age...or...my age. Our...sorta age. Anyway, it gets a bit old feeling like you're a low-ranking child in everyone's opinion."

Oren's gaze softened slightly at the admission and he smiled back.

Before Oren had the chance to say anything, Ellsworth took a very large step forward, stopped next to a doorway and barreled into the next sentence. Bad enough he had insecurities, even worse he was admitting them out loud; he certainly wasn't going to stand around and chat about them.

"So, this is the starboard storage unit," he said, pressing a button on the control panel but remaining in the corridor. There was a faint hum in the air that announced the presence of a field field. "The primary storage unit is at the end of the hall there. If you need more space, just let me know. I'll program the computer to give you access to this area, but make sure to reactivate the forcefield as soon as you enter - I swear those tribbles will slip in without you even knowing it."

Oren nodded, not missing the fact that Ellsworth seemed to want to move on from their previous conversation. He stuck his head through the door and looked around. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind," he replied, looking at Ellsworth and trying to get a better read on him, but it was difficult when he was quiet.

"If it makes you feel better, it also gets old when people seem to think I know everything. Or that I'm supposed to be serious and wise when I don't know what I'm doing half the time," Oren told him, still looking around the room before returning his gaze to Ellsworth. "I'm not very good at being an El Aurian."

Ellsworth grinned sheepishly. "You're in good company. I'm not very good at being Betazoid. I mean, I'm definitely a Betazoid about some things. I like fashion and people and...other stuff." He smiled shyly, though there was nothing at all shy about the statement. The smile slowly changed back into the grin as he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper and leaned in. "But half the time I don't even know what people are thinking. Don't tell anyone, though; it keeps them all in line around me in Ops if they think I'm some kind of extraordinary mind-reader."

Oren giggled, leaning in as well when Ellsworth did. He was very aware of what the other man thought when he said 'other stuff'. Betazoids were notorious flirts, which was why Oren was so comfortable with him. He was flirtatious himself, but there was no imperative or actual intent behind it with Betazoids. That intimacy just came naturally to them.

"I solemnly promise not to treat you like a serious, wise, all-knowing being as long as you promise not to ask me what I think you're thinking."

"Deal. I also promise that I generally say whatever I'm thinking, so don't hold it against me if I blurt out something completely idiotic that parades through my brain at any given moment. Trust me, I watch a lot of trashy holovids so there's plenty and you need to feel prepared." Oren nudged him playfully.

Ellsworth nudged back while rolling his eyes. "Oh, please. You're talking to the reigning King of Trashy Holovids. You may have a few years on me, but I promise I've had way more free time." He spared a glance at the chronometer and frowned. "Speaking of which, I should get back before they all try to wander off on a self-approved two hour dinner break."

Ellsworth looked down, reached out and took Oren's left hand by his pinky and ring fingers, holding it lightly. Old habits died hard, so he cast his eyes upwards to look at the El Aurian, which made him look particularly pitiful and desperately hopeful. "Can I see you again soon, though?"

Oren smiled at the gesture and gently squeezed his hand back. "Definitely. I have the most boring job in Science and work the beta shift, so just drop by or call, whatever. I'd love to see you again," he assured him, happy that he'd actually taken the time to come and meet the quartermaster in person.

"We can have a trashy holovid marathon in my quarters. Junk food, classy outfits and, as the Terrans say, just pig out and enjoy some time, judgment free."

Ellsworth really wanted to stick around and tell him about the Triaxian silk pajamas he bought during shoreleave and throw around a few holovid recommendations, but he was worried about the prospect of an Ops officer dropping by to check progress. He knew the work crew wouldn't cover for him; in fact, they'd probably just say he was over in the starboard store making out with Dr. Idris. He couldn't always read minds, but after a week he knew at the very least what they all thought about him.

He started to take his hand back, but the muscles seemed reluctant to let go. He cast his eyes away demurely, finally letting go. "That sounds really nice. And fun. I'll bring my best pajamas and best holovids and best sweets." Ellsworth looked up and gave one last smile before turning to go back the way they'd came. A short distance down the corridor he looked over his shoulder, all too aware of how his hair fell a bit across his face when he did. "I'll see you soon then?"

"You bet!" Oren called back, then realised awkwardly that he needed to head in that same direction. Instead of making the situation worse, he gave Ellsworth a small wave before turning on his heel and taking the long way to his office.

[ OFF ]

PO3 Ellsworth Hudson
Quartermaster
USS Galileo
[PNPC by Mott]

Oren Idris, Ph.D
Archaeologist/Anthropologist
USS Galileo

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