Hurry Up and Wait
Posted on 10 Oct 2014 @ 2:05am by Lieutenant Benice Gyce Ph.D. & Lieutenant JG Cyrin Xanth
2,382 words; about a 12 minute read
Mission:
Episode 07 - Sojourn
Location: Starbase 84, Promenade
Timeline: MD -27, 1100 Hours
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Cyrin Xanth stepped nimbly over the high clearence of the main entrance's airlock to the starbase's large Promenade. He juggled with the same duffle bag he'd been issued at the Academy, complete with his squadron's badges for each year with his soccer ball taking up much of the room, and his surfboard under one arm, but it was a practiced sort of chaotic dance when in a crowd. He wore his Starfleet uniform, with boots polished and everything pressed neatly. Cyrin had taken care to address his short hair. Usually content to let it lie flat on his head, today he'd combed and styled it, lifted it up away from the beginning of the spots that ran down either side of his face to disappear beneath his Science Blue collar. A single golden pip shone there, also polished carefully, and he certainly looked the part of a junior officer. Still a lithe, athletic youth, Cyrin still didn't stand out in comparison to what he saw.
Cyrin was sure he hadn't seen this many people in one place since he'd left the Academy! There were people of all sorts of description all around, making their busy way on some errand, idly looking through shop windows at the exotic wares offered within, or strolled along with their companions chatting about a hundred different things in dozens of different languages. Cyrin smiled open-mouthed as he stared, wide-eyed with enthusiasm.
That reminded him, as he carefully spun around to avoid knocking over a group of Bynars with his board that went by, chattering at a rapid pace. He was going to have to get his universal translator updated as soon as possible. There were a number of different languages that he couldn't understand in the already energetic morning of the Promenade. To his left there was a group of Bajorans, a group of spiritualists he thought by their robes and jewelry. He couldn't identify even half of them by sight, the sometimes colorful, sometimes dark, sometimes not even humanoid assembly of sentience that was on display. There were plenty of humans around, and a pair of Vulcan sitting at a bench along a bulkhead further on. Cyrin had had enough of Vulcans for a while.
His last posting, his only posting before getting the spot on the Galileo actually, had been to the USS Se'lok. A Vulcan science vessel, with a primarily Vulcan crew, where he had spent the better part of three years learning to live with them. A noble people, in Cyrin's mind, who had a lot to offer the universe. But they were also frustrating in their superiority, and rare had taken a shore leave. Cyrin could remember the last time he actually got to enjoy some leave, a year and a half ago, and that had only been to a thriving, but altogether dull Vulcan colony. No, this time he was going to try to enjoy himself.
The young officer realized he'd been standing still in the middle of the deck for some time at that point and took a step to leave. As his weight came down on his left foot, a horrible screeching erupted, and the Trill stumbled backwards with surprise and a shout of his own. The tribble seemed to gurgle it's displeasure for a moment and shift about as if trying to get comfortable, but the normally dexterous ensign lost his balance and collided with a Bajoran woman with a cane and sent them both crashing to the floor in a jumble of limbs and a surfboard.
The clatter was loud, and the redheaded Bajoran female Cyrin had landed on, let out a moan. The cane was still attached to the woman, and under her, by the looks of it.
Had it not been for the fall, one might say she was equally dressed and polished. The tactical vest and gold shirt signified she was probably a security officer, but the fact a cane was clutched in her right hand and her messenger bag and spilled over several cold case files, probably meant she was some sort of academic.
The woman's intense brown eyes finally turned to look at her assailant. Pained tears were in her eyes and her ridges on her nose were scrunched in a contained fury from the spotted fool breaking her wrist.
"You can get off me now," the Bajoran pressed.
The Trill struggled until he removed himself, then went to offer his assistance with a bright red face, "I'm so sorry, I-" His eyes took in the uniform, then the rank pips, and then finally the cane. Somehow, the young man blushed even deeper. He started to panic and try his best to get the woman back on her feet. "L-l-lieuten-ant! Let me h-help you..." His help would probably wind up being more a hindrance, but he was desperate and not thinking at this point.
"Cou-cou..." the Bajoran gave up trying to stop the lad and simply took his right hand with her left.
Once upright, she looked far more in pain now that the pressure had been taken from the fracture. For whatever discipline she had learned, a simple Bajoran swear word escaped her lips, once the injury had finally hit her.
"Kosst! Ensign... Please just pick my PADDs up and take me to the nearest aid station," the woman spoke with a grimace from trying to flex the bum wrist and assess the injury.
It took some doing, but he finally managed to help the woman back up. He'd finally stopped babbling after he proved he wasn't capable of making a coherent sentence. As soon as she mentioned the PADDs, he dropped to his knees again and started gathering them up. Eventually he had gathered the Bajoran's items, his surfboard, and his bag once again. At this point he realized he didn't have a clue where to go.
"Umm..." The ensign looked around, carefully this time so as to not bump into someone else. "I uh..." There were a number of shops nearby, and the doors below a sign to the restaurant, but where was there a- "Oh, um, this way sir," he finally managed and once again juggled everything he carried to offer her his arm to lean on. "I'm really sorry, sir, I-I hope I didn't h-h-hurt you too b-bad." His tongue seemed to have lost all ability.
"It's Gyce," the Bajoran insisted with watery eyes. "Just take a breath and focus, Kid."
Cyrin nodded and did as he was told. A few deep breaths later and his color had reduced and his voice seemed to settle, "Yes sir, that's better." He would offer his arm as support once again if needed before starting to walk them towards the aid station where she could get looked at by a medic. "I really am sorry, Lieutenant Gyce. I hope you're okay. You see, there was this Tribble and...anyways, I promise I will be more careful." He realized he hadn't introduced himself yet and followed up with his name, "Ensign Xanth, sir."
"It's not Lieutenant. Just Gyce," the Bajoran half-smiled through the discomfort in her arm. "...Benice Gyce. Gyce is my given."
"Oh...uh...right," was the response he managed, though those his eyes had grown a little wide at the thought of addressing her by her given name. The Vulcans of the Se'lok had been nothing if not strictly formal. After a few more steps, he finally managed to help Gyce over to the aid station.
An Andorian nurse of gangly stature helped Gyce to sit on a biobed. After asking how the accident happened, Gyce was tended too very quickly. And while the Andorian nurse used a bone regenerator on the injury, Gyce turned back to the young man.
"Age and nervousness..." Gyce paused as she observed him. "You're not out of the Academy very long and you have not been on a stardock before I imagine, yes?"
The younger officer looked ashamed at his role in causing the injury, and had hung his head until Gyce spoke to him directly again, "Oh...I guess. I mean, not really." He took another of those breaths that seemed to work so well and found his voice at last, "I mean to say that I am two-years out of the Academy now, and my posting before my current orders was very strict you see. I've never been on board a station this large before, and I guess I was a little distracted."
Once the nurse popped a hypo in Gyce's neck, the pain was gone, and so was the visual tension on her pale complexion. She smiled, however, but not from any opiate. Out of understanding.
"When I was your age, I interned at a security firm full of humans... It was fairly daunting to me as well, considering I lived on Bajor until adulthood," she offered and held her left hand out to shake his.
He eyed the hand briefly for a moment, then recalled the custom. It took a second for the Trill to shift his belongings around to free up his hand, but he shook her's in return. "It's good to know I'm not the only one who felt overwhelmed," he said with a bit of self-deprecating chuckle. "Are you feeling better now, uh, Gyce?"
"I am. The hand will heal in time, but I may need some help carrying my things to my temporary quarters, if you don't mind?" Normally Gyce carried her own things, but even she had to grudgingly accept the fact that a bum wrist was going to make things far more difficult.
"Of course!" he exclaimed, eager to try to make up for running her down. "I'd be happy to help." He'd offer his arm again if she needed it, but let Gyce lead the way. "So, you're not station crew then. Are you posted to one of the ships docked here?"
"My assignment is almost a month away, according to the last subspace buoy ping," Gyce answered, flexed her right hand, and left the aid station with the young man. "It's the Galileo."
Cyrin nearly tripped again. "Galileo? Oh...me too." His voice had gotten small again. He hadn't even managed to set foot on board and already he might have made a bad impression, what with breaking bones and everything. The Trill groaned. Not the most auspicious start to his career aboard the ship. On the bright side, if he was careful it wasn't like he could do much worse while they waited on her to arrive.
"Blue department shirt...." Gyce smirked at that, her brown eyes lit with enthusiasm. "Scientists of the fleet love science ships and stations more than any other posting. So I can only assume you are anxious to get started."
He nodded, "Yes. I just wish...there is a human expression I heard while at the Academy. 'Hurry up and wait.' It seems like we do a lot of that in Starfleet." He'd felt like that ever since leaving the Academy in fact. The Galileo, Cyrin hoped, was going to be a far more interesting assignment than the last. "Are you...Security?"
"I am," Gyce confirmed cheerily. The hardest one physically, to get into and for a woman with a cane, that was a huge thing to be proud of. "I studied advanced small unit tactics, and did a thesis on how the war changed the criminal culture."
The Trill's respect for the woman climbed dramatically. To have her position, given her disability, meant she must be both driven and really good. "C-criminal culture? That must have been a, uh, interesting subject." Cyrin imagined himself trying to gather information on a group of criminals to write a thesis on them. It didn't go very well.
The two officers had gone through a number of decks and turbolifts by this point, and Cyrin's arms had begun to tremble from carrying his belongings and then Gyce's all this time. At last though, they paused in front of a door that least to one of the temporary quarters for officers on the station. His own quarters were on the other side of the station's core and the surfboard felt like it was digging permanent grooves into his arm and hand.
"I really am sorry, Lieutenant, about knocking you down," he repeated himself, but in a hurried voice so maybe he wouldn't get interrupted. "Maybe I can make it up to you. If you uh, c-can th-think of anything y-you'd w-w-want to do..." He began to struggle again, hoping that Gyce didn't think he was trying to come on to her, not that the red-head wasn't attractive of course but there were other considerations. Cyrin sighed; he couldn't even manage a coherent thought in his own brains sometimes.
"I swim in the early mornings," Gyce told him with a bright smile. "And it is fine. The bones are mostly mended. It'll just be tender for a while."
The Bajoran opened her quarters and pointed to a table close to the door.
With a grateful smile, in part for the opportunity to relieve himself of some his burdens, but mostly for how friendly and patient Gyce had been with him, "Then I'll see you there!" The Trill sounded excited; swimming was obviously something he enjoyed. A little awkwardly, Cyrin entered the Bajoran's quarters. He managed to get the PADDs stacked on the desk with some semblance of order and offered a smile in return.
He'd moved back out of Gyce's quarters and leaned tiredly on his board, "I would suggest some other sports but uh...maybe enough broken bones for now."
"Just remember to take a breath and calm yourself when you're stressed or anxious." Gyce smiled, "Peldor joi, Ensign."
Cyrin bowed his head, "I will, sir. And, uh peldor joi." The doors slid shut, separating them, and the Trill sighed before picking up his surfboard once again. Glad everything turned out okay, he began to walk. A month till the Galileo arrived. Maybe it would be best to keep his head down until then.
[ OFF ]
Lieutenant J.G. Benice Gyce
Security Investigations Officer
USS Galileo
and
Ensign Cyrin Xanth
Astrophysicist
USS Galileo
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