Mutual Complaints

Posted on Sun Oct 31st, 2010 @ 7:46pm by Commander Earlond & Lieutenant JG Malia Jacy

Mission: Episode 1.3 - "The Time of Trial"
Location: Deck 12, Torpedo Storage and Launcher System
Timeline: Mission Day 04, 1300

ON: [[USS Pandora, Deck 12, Mission Day 04, 1300]]

"Why do you have to be such a jerk about everything?" Tracy (NPC) demanded of the man who seemed determined to ignore her. She was beginning to see why none of the other shuttle pilots had wanted to take this job. "It's not like it's that hard to do - all you have to do is inspect the Johnson's weapons systems and make sure they're set right. They haven't been done since we launched."

"Look, Crewman," Felle (NPC) growled, glancing between various readouts as he completed the inventory for what felt like the hundredth time that week. "I already told you I don't have time to deal with every little problem you have to run to me with."

"But this is the first time I've ever come here!" Tracy protested. And it's definitely going to be the last, she added silently. "Can't you just -"

"No," Felle barked. "Now get out before I have you removed by Security."

Tracy opened her mouth to argue, then thought better of it when the man offered her a glare that told her he had no qualms following through on any threats he mad. Turning, Tracy angrily stormed off. She was going to have a talk with the rest of those pilots - maybe even bring it up to Lieutenant Lexon when the senior pilot got back.

As soon as the girl was gone, Felle was back to work. When he realized that her interruption had caused him to lose his place, he let out a string of curses that managed to escape the still-closing door.

Velia (PNPC) had been heading off this godforsaken ghost ship. Not that she had any idea as to how to occupy herself nicely on the base, but she couldn't stand one more minute of not being able to find something productive to do. She'd already been reduced to social visiting - it made her feel dirty. Of course, she was raging inside as to the trial and what was going on; she had every intention of sitting down with Commander McNeil the minute she knew he had free time and see if he would be willing to share some knowledge. So lost in thought about how she was going to manage that, the Intel officer nearly didn't catch the words - and had they been any other words she may not have caught them at all. With a grin, she recognized the voice immediately. Their last meeting hadn't been pleasant, but it had left Velia with a sense of gratification. 'Round two, Mr. Felle' she thought to herself. Maybe another dose of that would cancel out the useless feeling. She stood a few feet to the side of and behind him, and cleared her throat. "You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"Look, kid, I don't have time for your -" Felle paused mid-yell, noticing who it was. "What do you want?" he demanded gruffly.

"A little excitement. A purpose in life. A puppy." Velia smirked. "Looks like I found at least two in one shot. Must be my lucky day." She craned to see what he was doing.

"I don't have time to deal with your pestering," Felle growled. "Go away." He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone, especially not a spook. They reminded him too much of the man he hated with a passion.

"You have all the time in the world," Velia pointed out. Nothing made her want to stay more than the fact that he wanted her gone. "It's not like the ship's going anywhere. Or you have anything to do." She shrugged. "What are you doing anyway?"

"I'm doing inventory - for the third time - of our torpedo compliment," Felle said exasperatedly. What was it with officers that made them think that enlisted personnel were like them - namely, lazy and unproductive?

"Good God," Velia tried not to laugh. "What can you possibly be doing wrong that requires you to take inventory three times?!"

Felle glared at Velia, wondering idly whether he could get away with storing her in a torpedo casing. "Do you have a problem, or did you just decide to take time out of your laziness to come down here and gloat?" he demanded.

"Laziness implies I have some task I've been assigned that I'm willfully not completing. I have no such assignment and therefore it's just leisure time." She looked at him curiously ... or like she was prepared to bite him, depending on which way he wanted to look at it. "Should I have a problem? I mean, I'm not the one letting loose with words that would make a marine blush."

Felle doubted that, and since he doubted the Intelligence department wouldn't notice one of their officers missing he decided on the next best option and simply ignored the Ensign.

"Oh the silent treatment?" Her mood was improving. "You should probably be warned, I can carry on a one sided conversation until the apocalypse." Then as though a thought had suddenly struck her, she focused her gaze on the very irritated looking man. "Do you have any gum?"

In an effort to refrain from physically attacking the annoying woman, Felle brought up the full readouts for the torpedo complement and began a more thorough inventory. He almost wished the other girl was back here; at least she had been marginally intimidated.

"You know, sometimes when I'm trying to count things that are stored en mass," Velia commented, "I find it helps to use my toes." She nodded to his boots for good measure. "You know, if it seems difficult."

Felle stopped and took a long, slow breath. He did not want to deal with Intelligence after killing one of their officers, as much as he'd like to, so he had to focus and try to get rid of her some other way. "Why don't you find some other person to pester," he growled. "Like that girl who just left. You two would get along well - you're both annoying!"

"We've met. I wasn't impressed. She's a bit too stuck on the ideology train for my tastes, thanks." Velia moved to his other side to watch him fluster.

"Get. Out," Felle said curtly. "I have work to do, and I don't have time for some pampered Academy brat butting in."

"I'm hardly pampered," Velia's eyes narrowed. Like this idiot had any reason to think he could judge her? Please. "Or is it the Academy part that bothers you?"

"I don't see you doing anything useful around here," Felle pointed out.

"Well, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you need a woman's help. You could have just asked, you know." Velia scrunched up the sleeves on her jacket. "Where is it you keep getting stuck? The count between one and ten, or twenty and thirty?"

Felle stared at her. Who did she think she was? "Get out of my way, or I'll have you thrown out," Felle said, feeling an odd sense of deja vu.

"I'd like to see that, actually," Velia intoned coolly. It wasn't lost on her that he was one of the few people on the ship who she could throw what rank weight she had against. Time to find out if this moody pit bull had the bite to match his bark. Maybe that's what she could do to fill some time. A background read up on Mr. Felle. The thought made her smirk.

"Don't you smirk at me," Felle growled. "You think you're all high and mighty because you sat in a classroom for four years?"

Velia's eyes widened and she forced tiny crocodile tears to form at their corners. A slight gasp emitted from her lips and she pressed the flat of her right hand to her chest. "I can't believe it! You completely figured me out! And here I thought I hid it so well!" She snorted, dropped her hand and rolled her eyes. "You're a natural detective," she commented dryly. "Tactical is obviously beneath you - want me to see if we have something in gray that will fit??"

"Do you have a real purpose here, or you just going to continue to annoy me?" Felle asked, fixing Velia with a glare. "I get enough of this superiority garbage from our wonderful Commander Earlond - I don't need it from you."

"I was offering my assistance, since you seem to be in such a hurry to get done," she reminded him. That, and it was kind of funny to watch that vein in his forehead pulse. "And the darling commander isn't around, now is he?" Velia's tone bit on 'darling' and she grimaced. "Just be thankful I'm not inviting you to the holodeck to get shot."

Felle frowned, regarding Velia. It was almost as if she shared his sentiments about the commander. "What do you mean by that?" he asked in reference to the comment about the holodeck.

"I mean, if it seems like a higher ranking officer is taking an interest in your training, it's usually not a good sign," she crossed her arms and the tip of her boot began tapping upon the floor. "Chances are excellent you're simply test subject number sixty trillion because the idiots before you weren't smart enough to get shot in a location that didn't lead to death."

"Don't feel so sure of yourself," Felle said pointedly. "You're not the only one who's passed the commander's training unscathed."

"Who the hell said I was unscathed?" Velia muttered, the physical mark had lasted all of a few minutes - the scar left on her pride, however, had yet to heal. "What'd he make you do? Lick his boots?"

"I don't lick anyone's boots, least of all that self-righteous, ignorant -" Fell broke off, wary. Somehow, the commander always seemed to hear things.

"Ah," Velia grinned. "The leader of his fan club eh?"

Felle eyed Velia. "Anti-fan club's more like it," he said gruffly. "I'm sure it's quite large by now."

"Oh I don't know. Some people do speak rather highly of him," Velia admitted. Not that she trusted other people's perceptions above her own; but she was sure they either had their reasons or had never met the man.

"Who outside of the officer cadre?" Felle countered. "And few of them even speak highly at all about him."

"You missed the 'where in the world is Commander Earlond' meeting in the break room, didn't you?" Velia shook her head. "No, there were plenty of people ready to jump in, phasers firing, to defend his honor. I thought about paying attention, but then I realized I'd have to give a crap. Which I don't."

"Not at all?" Felle asked, his tone noticeably less confrontational. "How do you deal with him, then?"

"It's our job to serve under whoever runs the ship we're assigned to," she shrugged as though it was the simplest of explanations. "Don't like it, request a transfer and have your mother pray it gets accepted - otherwise we put on the uniform, suck it up, and hope that the people behind the command curtain don't offer us up to any alien races as sacrifices."

"That's a rather....defeatist attitude," Felle observed. "You don't think you can change anything?"

Velia snorted and shook her head. "Are you talking in general or me specifically?" Because the answer to the latter was no, not at an ensign rank, and not today.

"I think it's a little pointless to assume you can't do anything," Felle pointed out. "You're limiting yourself from the start."

"What are you? A security officer or a motivational speaker?" Velia snapped at him. "I don't recall asking what you thought." A low growl rumbled in the back of her throat. This little conversation was becoming much less entertaining. "But thanks for the advice. I should probably be letting you get back to work; you know, take my entitled Academy learned butt and go waste my time elsewhere." With that the ensign spun on her heel and headed straight out the door; she'd be darned if she'd let him have the last spoken word.

"Good riddance," Felle muttered. Shaking his head, he turned back to the inventory. Officers.

OFF:

A JP

by

Ensign Velia Moretti (PNPC)
Intelligence Officer
USS Pandora
Played by: Lt. JG Malia Jacy

and

Senior Chief Petty Officer Timothy Felle (NPC)
Tactical Officer, USS Pandora
Played by: Commander Earlond

and

Crewman Apprentice Tracy Taer (NPC)
Shuttle Pilot, USS Pandora
Played by: Commander Earlond