Forget this tub...

Posted on Sat Aug 20th, 2016 @ 8:35am by
Edited on on Sun Feb 9th, 2020 @ 3:39pm

1,306 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Meanwhile...
Location: PFV Scorpion
Timeline: One year ago, give or take...

Chris stepped out of the shower, water still dripping off him, to the strident sound of the door chime to his berth. As usual his bunk mate had already left for duty, being an overachieving kiss-ass and all. Grabbing a pair of pants he fought his way into them, the rough fabric clinging to his wet legs, making it difficult to get them on. In the end he succeeded, and pulled the suspenders up, letting them slap into place on his dark bony shoulders. Running his hand down his face to clear off the rest of the water, or at least to try to, he walked across the room, putting on his chunky black plastic glasses, and thumbed the latch release to allow whoever the hell it was outside to come in. Two seconds later he regretted that decision with every fiber of his being as the ships chief engineer, Ronald Tobias lurched in, drunk out of his mind, reeking of alcohol, vomit, and the type of debauchery one didn't really even want to think about in polite society.

"Callahan, where the hell have you been? You were supposed to be on duty an hour and a half ago." he spat, slurring his words so hard it was difficult to understand him. Chris looked over at the chronometer on the rooms one desk, it happily displayed the time as 0645hrs. "Guess again, chief." Chris said, pointing out the small clock. "I ain't due on for another hour and fifteen. Besides how the hell would you have even known I wasn't there. You obviously weren't." he added, giving the pathetic man the once over, noticing his disheveled clothes, stained with who knew what. "Don't sass me, I'll kick your..." Tobias started, and then collapsed, face first, onto the deck plating. Turning his face up to the ceiling Chris clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, muttering under his breath as he squeezed his eyes closed, willing this situation to just disappear. The stench alone told him that wasn't going to be the case.

Two and a half years ago he'd been incredibly hard up for some kind of work, anything, he hadn't even cared what. He'd have worked on a garbage scow if it would have gotten him off the planet he'd been stuck on for a month and a half after his old job had fallen apart. Now, standing here, looking at the waste of human life lying at his feet, snoring loud enough to vibrate the deck plate his face had impacted, he wondered if it had even been worth it to take this position. He'd signed on as the chief engineer's mate, his senior most officer in engineer, basically it was supposed to be an engineering job, with a little extra responsibility thrown in. He'd been a grease monkey all his life, and he was damned good at it. But he had never run a department of his own on anything, much less a for profit freighter that was falling apart at the seams. Now, with Tobias perpetually drunk after his wife split, and going after anyone, and anything that would give him some, Chris was stuck running the entire department.

Reaching over the passed out form of his direct superior Chris thumbed the small button to activate the comms. "Callahan to sickbay. I need a medic to my quarters, there's been a bit of an accident. Might want to brush up on your dental skills while they come down here, doc." he said, and didn't even wait for a reply before thumbing the comms off. While he waited for them to show up he pulled on an old Henley shirt, leaving the neck open, and pushing the sleeves up to his elbows after tucking it roughly into his pants. Once he'd gotten his socks, and boots on he ordered up a bowl of oatmeal and some black coffee from the small replicator, which he wasn't sure how he'd even gotten to work, but not questioning it either, and sat down at the desk to eat. He was shoveling the warm food into his mouth, not worried at all about his table manners, what with his only audience being a passed out drunk, when the door slid open, and his worst nightmare walked in.

Her name was Alteia, and she was one of the most beautiful women he'd ever met. True, he did usually favor men, but this woman here, whoo boy! Problem was, she was Deltan, and also a lesbian. Double strike. She strode in wearing her usual powder blue medical scrubs, very form fitting, very suggestive, and completely unfair. Her bald head was freshly powdered, apparently she'd just come on shift, and she smiled in her usual friendly way. "Good morning, Mr. Callahan. Dr. Rodriguez was busy, so he sent me to see about our friend here." she said in her lilting accent. "How'd he know who it was?" Chris asked, looking perplexed. "We got word he'd come back from the station about ten minutes ago, he was already stumbling, and was still carrying a bottle of whiskey. I don't see it, so he must have either dropped it, or stashed it. What are the odds it wasn't him?" she replied as she knelt down next to Tobias' unconscious form.

Tilting his head she grimaced. He'd split his lip, fractured his nose, and chipped at least his two front teeth. When she pulled his jaw open she saw he'd also bit nearly clean through his tongue. "Well, I hope you weren't expecting him to help in engineering today." she said, looking up and giving Chris a pitying smile. Chris gave her a rueful look, "I learned a long time ago, Alteia, not to expect the impossible, and not to anticipate help from the helpless." he said, waxing a bit poetic, even for him. She laughed at that, a beautiful sound, almost musical. "Smart man. Can you help me stand him up once I get him awake?" she asked. Chris nodded and walked over to where she knelt, squatting down to catch the big man under one arm and haul him up when she was ready.

He heard the hiss of the hypospray and felt Tobias jerk under him, but she hadn't given him enough to really wake him, only enough to make it where he could at least stumble around, and be led back to sick bay. If she'd woken him fully he'd have been lying on the deck howling in agony. Working together they hauled him upright, and once Chris had helped her get him into the hallway she took it from there, leaving Chris standing in the doorway, watching her walk away.

Once she was out of sight he went back in, chugged the last of his lukewarm coffee, looked at the oatmeal, which had congealed into a mass of gelatinous horror, and tossed it, and the coffee mug into the replicator and hit recycle. Pressing the comm button again he hailed engineering. "T'Rel." came the voice of their computer specialist. "Tobias won't be in today, I'll be in charge, I'm on my way down now." he said, not even bothering to mask his disgust with the man. "Understood, sir." T'Rel replied and then cut the channel.

Chris arched his back, stretching, feeling the vertebrae in his spine pop as he did so, lacing his fingers, and stretching his arms out and back at the same time. It was going to be a very long day. Shaking his head, and twisting his neck to loosen any stress he grabbed a padd off his desk, plucked a cigar out of the one expensive item he owned, a real, authentic Cuban humidor, and lighting it with his plasma torch he walked out into the corridor to begin yet another day in hell...

 

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