168: House Guest

By Ensign Andraste
80223.00
After My Immortal

= Aboard the USS Serendipity =

After being rescued from the perilous situation aboard the Executor, Nimue left the Serendipity's transporter room as quickly as she could.

Apparently, it was not radiation that had initially prevented the Serendipity from beaming Dane and herself out of danger...it was the simple fact that Dane's combadge was defective.

And by requesting a transport on her own communicator, Nimue had – without intending it – abandoned the prickly ensign to a rather ugly fate. Worse, the Serendipity's commanding officer had decided to mount a solo rescue operation to retrieve Dane. So if anything went wrong, Andraste suspected, she was going to be blamed for the death of a Starfleet Captain. And though it would do no good in the long run, she felt removing herself from the presence of people who knew what had happened was the wisest course of action.

Besides, even if the rescue was successful – which she fervently hoped it would and not just because of the whole being blamed scenario playing out in her head – and Dane returned, Nimue wasn't quite sure she wanted to be around to greet him. Somehow she doubted he would understand that she had never meant to leave him behind.

The best course of action, without doubt, was to blend in so that neither this ship's commanding officer nor Dane would find her before she had a chance to disembark. And the only place she could blend in was with the crew of the Executor.

So Nimue made a few inquiries and headed to the Alchemy's bay, where she was told the Executor's crew was being held. 'Held' was an unusual word to describe the state of rescued Starfleet Officers board a Starfleet vessel, but according to what she could gather all the ships involved in this particular conflict had belonged to the good guys. So this obviously not the time to be using usual words….

Ensign Andraste sighed wearily and rubbed the back of her neck. She still couldn't believe that anything in the last few weeks had actually happened. All she had done was agree to race a hoverbike. And somehow she'd ended up in...whatever this mess was. The stories she had been told as a child about the mad gods were beginning to ring entirely too true for comfort.

She heard voices arguing before she even reached her destination. A rather wiry and prim looking Vulcan was in the middle of a discussion with a very large and burly Terran.

"...is simply not set up to hold this many people for any significant period of time. The only logical thing to do is to move some of these individuals elsewhere."

"I don't care! There is no where else to put them."

"Even if we were to set aside minor problems – such how we will set up a system for individuals to relieve themselves that will work smoothly for more than a few hours –we must consider that we cannot be certain that the force fields containing their atmosphere will remain intact if the Serendipity is forced to engage in more combat in the immediate future. May I fairly assume that is a possibility?"

The muscular Terran shrugged. "How should I know? Look…I'm not saying you are wrong –but you and the quartermaster don't have a solution. The ship doesn't have room for all these people."

"We do not have to relocate them all. However, it would be wise to move as many of them as possible. That way, should there be an emergency, the situation here will be easier to manage."

"I'm still not hearing a plan."

Nimue cleared her throat and stepped forward. "Couldn't you ask some of the crew to take on roommates?"

Both of them turned to look at her and the Terran asked. "Who are you?"

"Nimue Andraste. I just got pulled off of the Executor. But that would work, right? I mean, it would kind of suck for the crew but...."

The Vulcan inclined his head thoughtfully, "Your idea is not entirely without merit. The Executor's crew complement was similar to our own. Asking people to share their quarters would be an elegant solution."

"Yeah," his friend agreed, "That could work."

"Very good then," the Vulcan declared, "I will begin compiling a random list at once...." Then he paused and said, "Maybe we should inform security. They may be able to help keep order during this transition."

"Right. I'll talk to Commander O'Sullivan. We have to get permission anyway, the higher ups may not like this."

"I believe he went aboard the Executor with Captain Zanh."

The two of them looked to Nimue for conformation, but she simply shrugged.

"I don't know guys."

The Terran shrugged, "Whatever. I'll talk to that new kid...Dobby or whatever."

"Dalca, I believe."

"Well," Nimue said cheerfully, feeling a bit better about herself, "I'm always happy to help out. You guys sound like you have this under control. I'll just go and grab some foo…did you say Dalca?"

"Indeed," the Vulcan drawled, "Ensign Warren Dalca."

"He's here? Aboard this ship?"

"Yes."

"Really? Wow. I mean...what are the odds. Warren and I go way back. We were ... friends. I was at his graduation…well, it was more like, you know, I was around him at the time he graduated. I guess the universe is a pretty small place after all."

The Vulcan blinked at her. "That is a highly illogical conclusion."

Andraste gave him a quick smile, "Probably. I have something of a natural talent for those." The Vulcan did not look like he approved, but before he could say anything, Nimue went on. "Say…you think I could bunk with Warren? I'd just feel way more comfortable with someone I knew."

"Well…there is no logical reason to deny your request, I suppose. However, until we check with the command staff…."

"Come on, Surma," the Terran interrupted, "Do the Dalca kid a favor would you? I wouldn't mind having her live at my place for a few days."

The Vulcan studied Nimue for a moment and then nodded. "Very well. I shall attend to this immediately."

Nimue grinned. "Thanks. This should be a lot of fun."

Ensign Nimue Andraste