April 2015 Post of the Month


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A Shortage of Women of Ill-Repute (AKA It's Really Good Fruit Salad)
USS Farragut

Posted on Fri Apr 17th, 2015 @ 8:03am by Lieutenant Rianna DiMarco & Lieutenant David Windsor

Mission: The Night Cries
Location: London Cafe, Pike City, Cestus III
Timeline: 2278.45: 2120 hrs.




What had she done?


Sitting across the table from a man that was far too pretty for his own good, Ri should have been in seventh heaven. A little dinner, a little dancing- enjoying the last night of relative freedom that she would likely have in five years- and instead she was sitting in a corner cafe sipping frothy coffee drinks, picking at a fruit salad and discussing theoretical sciences and philosophy. Philosophy instead of running wild, getting smashed and making no apology for the quick leave in the morning. Philosophy as if it had ever really interested her before. Of all the pretty men on planet, she found one with a brain and he just so happened to be interesting to boot. It had to be one of those growth things- like responsibility or your taste buds maturing- that happened when you crawled up on thirty. Yes, that was it. That had to be why the idea of waking up hungover and probably vaguely lost just wasn't as appealing as it used to be.


"Mmm.. I had a teacher at the academy that was all over the idea of quantum gravity. She had this weird model worked up about it being consistent throughout all parallel universes to the point that it actually bled from one to the other. That all the big laws did. Pure math this and string theory that," she said, gesturing with a slice of some green fruit that she'd never seen before, "I tried to follow: really I did. It got to be such an overwhelming concept just in size alone that I'd hit a blank stare three hours into every lecture. Exactly what is this thing that I'm eating again?"


"Vulcan Ting Fruit," The man, one David Allan Windsor (yes, David Allan, always the middle name as well), told her. "It's particularly ripe this time of year. Delicious, if I do say so myself," He responded as he took a bite of his own piece.


"I never had much mind for all manner of quantum physics. It's all very fascinating and I certainly enjoy delving into the concepts and Ideas, but... I'm far too keen to get my hands dirty," He explained to her. "Give me dirt, bugs, and a good bioanalysis system any day. It's disconcerting to me that so many people get so lost in these parallel universes that they forget about our own," He said, a note of disdain in his voice. "What's the actual likelihood we'll ever see them anyway? Besides, there's more than enough to keep you busy for several lifetimes *here*!" He said, a dashing smile on his face.


David had been just as taken aback by this woman across from him. She was all metal and grease while he was wood and mud, but their passions were almost identical. He'd had the same plans that he assumed she had when they'd started talking at a bar hours ago: Go out, be rowdy, and show up to the ship the next morning with no regrets. Instead, he felt quite certain that he'd have many regrets about walking away from this woman just now. But then, that really figured, didn't it?


“I know what you mean. I think that’s part of the whole utopic-idealisim thing with the Fleet. As good as we get our worlds to be, as much as we tap down crime and war, it’s never enough. I guarantee you once we run out of stars in reach, it’ll be what can we plumb through the onion peel because a little bit just isn’t enough. The race to know everything right now totally loses the idea of discovery. How did you get there? What did you see? What’d you leave out of the 400 page thesis?” Letting the question trail off, DiMarco shrugged her shoulders. She was generally wary of people putting the end goal before all else. That kind of mentality was big on the world she’d grown up on. The people didn’t matter, the cost was never counted- just the end result. That was it. Rianna had made very sure that those words would never be a part of her dialogue with any member of her work crew period. Every one of them was a piece of the journey, terribly important alone and part of a strength to draw from united. Only with all of them would they ever get anywhere.


“Precisely!” David replied, excitedly. “You can’t have a tree without a tree to have a seed. And every tree and every seed is vitally important, and those differences are what allow us to see the grander scheme in nature. If you don’t know how you got there, you don’t know where you’re going,” He said, smiling broadly with disgustingly perfect teeth.


If her sister was there, Ri was sure that Javonne would have cataloged everything from the precise angle of the cleft of his chin to the percentage of hair that swept upwards. For her part, it was more of an overall appreciation of the pretty. Most guys just didn’t look so manicured and then stay nice after they opened their mouths. She fished around through the salad for a grape and popped it into her mouth. “So where are you going? Off to some grassy planet to discover hybrid wheat or something?”


David arched an adventurous eyebrow, and a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, “No, my dear, I am destined for the stars tomorrow. I’m assigned as the Chief Science Officer on the USS Farragut,” He said, sparing no degree of fanfare.


“The Farragut..” DiMarco echoed, suddenly glad that she hadn’t hit on him even a tenth of what she’d intended to upon first running into him. She laughed and glanced up at the ceiling for a moment before looking back to him. “You’re going to be out in the unknown for five years and you’re sitting here drinking ridiculously named coffee and talking about trees to me. Don’t you want to catch the last bit of a familiar constellation or down a week’s worth of scotch in celebration or something? It’s a long way out..”


“Several hours ago, I wanted precisely that. However, I can assure you that at this moment, I have nothing that I’d rather be doing than enjoying this coffee and conversation right now,” He answered, earnestly.


“You’re going to be stuck talking to me for the next five years, David Allan. I think we’ve got time.” Setting aside her fork, Ri reached across the table to offer out her hand. “Lieutenant Rianna DiMarco, resident knuckle-dragging-grease-monkey CEO.”


David seemed taken aback for a moment, his jaw almost slack, then a smile took over his face and he let out a warm laugh, “You’re kidding!” He exclaimed, taking her hand in both of his. “That’s marvelous, really. Truly it is!”


“Yeah, it’s great-“ and I’m totally going to behave myself now. Even his hands are soft, Ri thought to herself. It just wasn’t fair. “-So please don’t.. miss out on anything. We’ve got years to discuss trees and things unless you really dig the coffee..”


“No, no… you’re right… I’ll need to find the first woman of ill repute around and have my way with her,” He said standing up abruptly and looking around. He looked in silence for a moment, then sat back down with a heavy sigh, “Damn… they’re all taken. Ah well, good conversation and coffee it is, I suppose. You’ll understand if I’m horribly disappointed for the rest of our time together,” He said, in mock mourning.


DiMarco’s right eyebrow raised slightly as she thought about what he said. She didn’t understand it all by a long shot, but she caught the sarcasm and ran with it. That she understood no matter what weird way he was speaking. “I think I can suffer through it- especially for the fruit.”


“Hah ha! Indeed!” David replied, happily. “So, how about Gunning? Have you worked with her before?” He asked, motioning for the water to bring him a fresh cup of whatever Vulcan blend he was drinking. Dreadfully bitter, but absolutely invigorating.


“Not really..” Rianna grimaced a little at the question, her dark eyes focusing on her coffee mug instead of at David any longer. “She was a friend of my mentor, so I knew her from the outside, you know? She and Shands got on like two thieves. He was her first choice to be here, but he passed on, so I’m the second rung.”


“You’ll do fine. She’s an utter bitch, I’ll warn you about that. I’m fairly certain it’s all a façade,” He admitted with a smirk. He hated using such crass language, but there truly wasn’t any other word for Gunning. It seemed there were only a handful that Gunning let close enough to really know her, and as far as he knew he wasn’t one of them. From what he’d heard though, she had a heart of gold in spite of her cold exterior.


“Oh that doesn’t bother me,” Ri’s eyes snapped up at his words, a small grin at the corner of her mouth. “I do best under pressure- I just still miss Shands. He was my old guy, you know? Gruff and grumble and cussing in German.. He collected strays and I was one of his strays, so in the end I made sure that he was taken care of.”


David smiled, “You’ll do fine, then. End of the day, Gunning just always wanted someone to do what was right. That’s all she cared about. That, and helping you to better yourself. Those were the things that made her happy, though lord knows she’d never show it,” He said with a chuckle.


It was the other brow’s turn to rise slightly. If the captain wanted better her, she had a wide selection to pick from. “Well, I’ve heard that macramé was pretty sweet. Never learned to put on eye liner. And I still don’t understand this sports. She can take her pick.”


David laughed at that, “I’m sure she’ll be excellent with the macramé part of that,” He said with a smile. “Well, as lovely as this little nook is… would you like to take a walk? I’d like to see the ocean one last time before we get to the stars, and I hear that there’s a beach about an hours ride from here if you’re interested.”


At the mention of the ocean Ri perked right up. Between it, fresh fruit and afternoon naps, that was the top three true joys in Rianna’s life. “You’re one of my people, David Allan. Let’s go see the ocean- but I’m bringing the fruit and you’d better drive unless you want to get arrested the night before. I don’t know this slow thing well.”




Lt. David Allan Windsor

Science Officer, USS Farragut


Lt. Rianna DiMarco

Engineering Chief, USS Farragut