The Second-best Gynecologist (Farewell to the Motts)

Posted on 16 Feb 2015 @ 5:52pm by Lieutenant Olsam Mott & Lieutenant Tuula Voutilainen M.D. & Commander Norvi Stace

3,397 words; about a 17 minute read

Mission: Episode 07 - Sojourn
Location: Starbase 84 - Airlock 12-B
Timeline: MD44: 2200hrs

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"...stop pushing me, fathead!"

"If I'm fathead then you're fatass. Get to moving!"

"Oh no, I forgot to pack a snack! Wait, don't decouple, I have to go back to the promenade..."

"...I can't wait to get back to a planet with some proper restaurants...."

"Can you believe we came all this way to see Olsam, and he didn't even bother telling us ahead of time that he was married?"

"...I heard one of his wives hates him...."

"...I heard one of his wives won't even sleep with him...."

"...I heard one of them makes him do the cleaning...."

"Why do they make these airlocks so small? They're so small! It's so inconsiderate! Humans are so inconsiderate."

The airlock leading to the Mott family freighter was acting like a funnel, causing a log jam of rotund Bolians to back up into the corridor. The shouted complaints were myriad, ranging from Starfleet departure protocols to the humidity on the starbase to the lack of Bolian cuisine from the eighth prefecture of the eastern continent.

Olsam stood to the side with his two wives and mother, smashed against the bulkhead from the press of Bolians and luggage. He eyed each one of them as they passed, nervous that despite their eminent departure one of them might scream out "It's a sham!" at the last minute. But if they did manage to all get on the freighter, if the ship decoupled and jumped to warp, then he was free. Free from the burden of marriage, free from the overbearing expectations of his family, free to walk around his own quarters completely nude eating as many ham sandwiches as he wanted.

Tuula sighed heavily. The hell that was dealing with 47 Bolians was almost over. She briefly considered informing the crowd that there was a shrimp platter on board the freighter, but decided against it. The paperwork involved with reporting several civilians trampled to death would surely delay their departure by at least a few hours. So, with a death grip around Olsam's left hand, she waited as patiently as she could for the moment that those airlock doors closed and this whole fake marriage business was over.

Stace could feel Tuula's frustration and, despite not having really known her before this pantomime, now felt an undeniable affinity with her. She gripped Mott's other hand, the knuckles of her cool skin turning white with anger. Through gritted teeth, she remained stoic and centred, looking straight ahead at the departing nightmare. Under her breath, she said, "If you so much as speak to either one of us in the next week, I will personally see to it that you scrub the exhaust vents with your toothbrush for the rest of your service aboard the Galileo. And that's an order."

"Ow, you're hurting my hand," Olsam whined quietly, face twisted up in a look between pain and confusion. What was she so mad about? They'd had a lovely time together. He bought her a ring, called her sweetheart, took her to dinner on the promenade, listening to stories of her previous hosts and done his utmost to keep his family away from her. Besides, he was quite handsome by Bolian standards, so she ought to count herself lucky.

"What was that?" Olba asked, leaning forward to look past Tuula. "What's wrong with your ham?"

"Nothing, momma," Olsam replied, trying not to pout. His hand was hurting less, but it was hard to tell if that was because Norvi had eased her grip or his nerves were just going numb. His cousin Quala walked by gave him the opportunity to stop worrying about his hand in order to glare at her; she'd broken three different artworks in his quarters during their stay because she couldn't keep her stupid, grubby little Bolian hands to herself. A surprisingly spiteful part of him thought about tripping her to see her fall on her face, which made him wonder if Norvi was rubbing off on him.

"I'm so glad I got to spend time with you both," Olba said, smiling. She sounded surprisingly kind and courteous given her usually acerbic tone of voice. "I couldn't have hoped for better, more accomplished daughter-in-laws with big birthing hips. And I'm sure I'll have some beautiful little grandchildren running around in no time, right?"

"Well, I..." stammered Tuula for a moment. She glanced back up at Olsam for a moment and then got back into character. "We haven't exactly discussed children yet, have we, Olsam?"

Olsam stared at the opposing wall, trying to see through the sea of Bolians shuffled in front of him. He felt like he was trapped in a nightmare, the same recurring nightmare that had started with his uncle, Colonel Samox Mott, asking Norvi if any of her previous hosts had experienced anything like sex with a Bolian. At the time, Olsam felt like the corresponding spike in his blood pressure was sure to induce cardiac arrest, and he would be quickly put out of his misery. Mercy was not swift in coming; in fact, mercy never came. The nightmare just continued on through questions from a half dozen other family members that seemed to have an odd and disturbing fixation on the genitalia of himself and his wives and the uses thereof. Next time he needed to fake a marriage, he was definitely going to develop some sort of female prosthetic to simulate pregnancy.

"Uh, what? No. No, we haven't discussed children, yet. Life in the fleet is very unstable, ma, you know how it is."

"Yeah," Stace cut in flatly, twisting her head around to Olsam as she emphatically stroked his cheek, "and I'm barren. So unfortunately it's down to Tuula to carry on Mott's genetic heritage." She winced into a downward smile and then kissed him, looking back at his mother with wide, unforgiving eyes. "It's been a terrible ordeal for the three of us." She patted her stomach and then scrunched up her nose, pretending to wipe away a non-existent tear from the corner of her green eyes. "But, that's what you get when you have such a sexually adventurous son as you have raised." Stace reached out and clutched Mott's mother's hand as she dropped her voice into almost a whisper.

"I tried to warn him not to introduce some of the medical instruments he sometimes brings home to study into the bedroom; but when you so often confuse an osculating, internal dermal re-generator with a self-sealing stem bolt... well, I'll never be the same again." She released her hand and then placed it on Olsam's right shoulder for dramatic effect. "I can still feel the burning sometimes. In the dark of night as it jolts me from my sleep. But I don't blame him. I have nieces. That'll just have to be enough for me, I'm afraid."

"I won't give up on you, Norvi." Tuula shed a tear at her tragic story. "I promise you, we'll find something. A medical breakthrough, a transplant, or something. Even if I have to go to the Delta quadrant and make a deal with the Viidians, I'll find something."

The exchange caused some disruption in the flow of Bolians as they mumbled and muttered among themselves, some trying to unhear what could not be unheard while others fell into quiet whispering about the tantalizing piece of new gossip. It was sure to give the Mott family something to talk about for the next decade. For her part, Olba simply stared at Norvi with a look of passive interest as she spoke. Eventually it broke, replaced with disappointment.

"Olsam always has been the second best gynecologist in the family, being completely unable to hold a candle to the late great Dr. Araxian Mott. It's a shame he isn't still with us, I'm sure with stirrups and the proper amount of time he could work uterine miracles even for you, Norvi. With time, we'll all come to accept your inadequacies and the consequences of Olsam's incompetence."

At first, Olsam had been offended at the notion he would be anything other than the model lover - kind, gentle, soothing, responsive and selfless. Or, you know, not, if you were in to that kind of thing. He was then more offended still that Norvi of all people should suggest he was anything short of a brilliant, accomplished physician of the highest degree and Tuula's absolute complicity in the whole fairytale. She was his student for goodness sake! On the other hand, his mother's scorn was completely expected. It could be anticipated with regularity, almost every hour on the hour. If ever given the opportunity travel back in time his first stop would be to strangle the life out of the 'late great' Dr. Araxian Mott, the shadow of whose speculum he'd been living for years. If he had the hear the 'you should have seen him when your aunt Floriela got a bluewater crab stuck in her' story one more time, he felt certain he'd absolutely lose his mind.

It was all enough to put him a dark mood, which in all fairness looked quite a bit more like a pout than anything else. He gave Norvi a side glance that was meant to be threatening and puffed some air through his lips.

"Actually, I think Olsam is a wonderful physician," replied Tuula, knowing very well that she was risking a severe caning for contradicting the matriarch of the Motts. "And he's wonderful at some other things as well," she added in a suggestive tone.

"Oh," Stace interjected, reaching over to hold Tuula's hand across Mott's bulbous and rotund body, "I didn't mean to take away from the good doctor's medical prowess. It was probably my own fault." Her voice now began to drop as did her eyes, as she then flicked them up to squarely look at his mother. "I like a drink now and then, and, as Tuula will attest, I don't always know my limits." She stroked Mott's face and then winced into a smile. "He's a trooper, really. To put up with both of us. I mean, he must be." With a soft and careful hand, Stace lifted up Mott's right hand and began to pour into herself the formidable and self-possessed attitude she usually projected. "I lobbied very hard for Doctor Olsam Mott to be my husband. I would accept no other and, through the lifetimes I have endured, he has been the prime example; the husband I hold all others to in my past. And that conquest, no one can deny him. I did not just fall in love with him for his virile and athletic magnetism. But for his brilliant mind and aggressive academia. People look at me and see a lithe, beautiful trophy wife, with legs up to her neck and a twinkle in her eye. But the truth is, he is my trophy husband. Someone whom I'm proud to call my own."

Olba watched Norvi closely, blinking pointedly, while waiting for the last of her family to pass on to the freighter. Once she figured they were far enough out of earshot, everything about her face changed. It was like a mask had been ripped away to reveal something very sour and unpleasant beneath.

"Wind and wave help us, you can cut the shit, lady," Olba grunted, looking very old as she leaned on her cane. Olsam suddenly looked very uncomfortable. For half a step, he actually turned to run but just bumped into Tuula's chair. He was trapped. Like a rat. "If I hadn't caught on by the second day we were here that little display certainly would have given it away but at least it'll give the rest of them something to talk about. I raised dear Olsam here, so I know all about his 'brilliant mind.' He's a sweet boy, I'm sure we can agree, but we both know what's going on here." The old Bolian's eyes narrowed a little, shifting between Norvi, Tuula and Olsam, but her withering gaze finally seemed to relent a little. "I appreciate the theater; it's been amusing, to say the least."

"Amusing theater?" Tuula feigned ignorance, figuring it tended to work out for Olsam, while silently cursing Ritt. If he weren't already on board the freighter, she would hunt him down, cut off his arm, and beat him to death with it. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, did you recently see a Gilbert and Sullivan production?"

When the game is up, then the game is up. And any and all attempts to swing the locomotive back to its tracks would only result in a fatal collusion, where everyone ended up with the proverbial egg on their faces. Stace looked to Mott softly, and then to Tuula, but finally rested her slender and cold hand onto Olba. "I'd like to say that we tried our best," Norvi admitted, scrunching up her nose like someone caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "And although we both may not be great actresses, we are great friends. And that should attest to something of the character of your son." She took in a breath and then, most likely with a futile vigor, tried to explain the situation. "He is cared for and loved so much by the family he has come to foster on this ship, that two beautiful women would play a charade so preposterous that you either went at it full throttle of not at all. We'd do almost anything for your son. And if that can't be held up with the same respect as hunting down two wives, then I'm glad I haven't married in this lifetime. And I'm glad that I have met these two."

Olsam was starting to turn a darker shade of blue, but he couldn't not hold his breath. The fact that his mother knew, for however long she'd known, sent his head spinning. Why didn't she say something? How long had she known? When did she find out? What tipped her off? Did they others know? How long did he have left to live, before Norvi dragged him into a dark corridor and murdered him? And most importantly, were they going to give him those rings back? They were expensive...

"Well said, Norvi," Olba said, nodding her head. She cut her eyes to look at Olsam, shooting him a disapproving glare, then shifted her softened gaze back to Norvi and Tuula. It was a shame Olsam couldn't bring himself to actually marry one of them, but she'd given up on that years ago. He might have been the oldest and carried with that all the associated cultural burdens but his heart and mind had always been...well, wherever they were...and she'd made her peace with that.

"I appreciate your commitment to your roles. You're both fine young women, model officers, charming, beautiful, if a bit odd..." She looked over her shoulder at the freighter; an impatient blue face was poking its head through the docking hatch, waiting for the last Mott to board. "But as I'm sure you've seen, I've become accustomed to that over the years." She reached out a wrinkled hand to each of them in turn, squeezing their arms affectionately, then turned a much less kind look on her son. "Olsam, if you ever lie to me like that again, I'll rip off your fingernails and feed them to you. Now come here, give me a hug."

Olsam looked reluctant to leave his wives' side, feeling very much like he was walking into a trap, but he eventually meekly peeled himself off the wall and shuffled over to his mother's embrace. She hugged him tightly and warmly and whispered something in his ear until he relaxed; then she slapped him in the back of the head. He winced but took it without complaint. He knew he deserved it and in some ways it was cathartic, relieving him of some of the guilt he'd carried around with him for the past couple of weeks.

"Bye, mom. You're, uh, not gonna tell the rest of them, are you? I don't think I could bear it. I mean, they finally stopped nagging me about it for once, and now I just feel like if you tell them it's only going to make it worse because then it'll be them nagging me about not being married but also about being fake married and they'll probably never let up about it, you know how they are, it's just endless and relentless and goes on and on and-"

"Shut up, Olsam," Olba grumbled, then winked at Tuula and Norvi as she turned to hobble toward the docking hatch. Without turning around, she spoke loudly enough to be heard, "I suggest you two take him for everything he's worth in the divorce proceedings. It's the very least he deserves, hm?"

"Oh yes," shouted Tuula, making sure she was heard inside the freighter. She was happy for Olsam, seeing that he had won the approval of his mother in spite of his marital status or lack thereof. While she felt a little miffed at being forced to keep up with this charade for weeks on end in spite of the fact that Olba knew all along, she couldn't blame anyone but herself. And maybe Olsam. Surely the weeks of being surrounded by forty-seven Bolians was a just punishment for lying, even if it was to help out a friend and comrade.

Not to mention that Olba was kind enough to take care of Zuwtt in spite of knowing about Tuula's deception. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't be angry at the matriarch of the Motts for putting her and Norvi through weeks of hell.

"Norvi, I think we can both live comfortably on half of a doctor's salary," she continued. "At the very least, it will keep us fully stocked with the finest Bolian rum from the Isle of Lumbalott for a long time."

Stace smiled wearily and then sighed. "I don't know about you two but I'm ready to move back into my own quarters for a spell. Maybe put a request into the Quartermaster to get a roomie in a few years once this experience has settled with me."

Olsam waited until the airlock had cycled before turning away from the docking hatch. He thought he heard the ship decouple and with it went all of his anxiety, his worries, his cares. He was a free man again. There was no cousin Quala breaking all his things; no Mama Mott breathing down his neck; no Uncle Torvin asking about the 'hidden' menu at every restaurant they went to; no brother Korvin trying to chat up everything with reasonably recognizable genitalia. Now, it was just him and his two lovely wives.

"Move back? What do you mean move back?" Olsam asked, pouting. "I kinda got used to it... It gets lonely at night. And my new roommate is some kind of sex cultist. I don't entirely trust him, yet. What will I do without you two?"

"Probably move on," Stace quipped with a smile. "Things need to go back to the way they were, Olsam. You know that more than either of us."

"Oh, okay. Yeah, you're probably right," he said, shifting his gaze between them. "Sooo... You think I could get those rings back? It's just I still have the receipt, and...."

Tuula let out a sigh of relief. They were gone. Finally. Shaking her head at Olsam's lack of tact and fiddling with the rock on her finger, she came up with a proposition. "I'm afraid I've grown accustomed to this ring," she said, "though I could be convinced to part with it in exchange for, say, a bottle of fine twenty year old Bolian rum from the Isle of Lumbalott." Looking down at her finger again, her eyes were drawn in by the large blue stone. "Actually, better make it two."

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Lieutenant Olsam Mott, M.D.
Assistant Chief Medical Officer
USS Galileo

Lieutenant (J.G.) Tuula Voutilainen, M.D.
Medical Officer
USS Galileo

Lieutenant Commander Norvi Stace
Chief Science Officer & Second Officer
USS Galileo

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