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Chapter 2
Travis and Malcolm sat in the mess hall, enjoying their dinners while Travis described his experience with the Mr'lar.
"It was weird," Travis said. "They all had a camera. One of them must have taken a hundred pictures of me sitting at my station during my shift. He acted like he didn't want to leave when it was time for the tour to move on."
Malcolm stabbed irritably at a piece of chicken. "I can't believe they were allowed on the bridge—with cameras, no less. If I didn't know better, I'd say the Captain deliberately scheduled their visit during the time I would be stuck in the decon chamber."
Travis smothered a grin. He suspected that was exactly what the Captain had planned; Malcolm wasn't known for his diplomatic skills. Travis, on the other hand, was a bit more tactful; he carefully redirected the Lieutenant's attention.
"Well, I barely escaped to the mess hall to get lunch and Commander Tucker walked in with another one and cornered me. I had to sit through a whole meal with my pupils dilating in and out every ten seconds." To emphasize his point, he widened his eyes, scrunched them, and made them huge again. "The Commander's guest was even worse than the ones on the bridge; he never stopped taking pictures. He ate with one hand so he could hold the camera in the other." Travis demonstrated, feigning taking photos with one hand while eating. Reed chuckled.
Travis looked down at his food, pushing it around on his plate. "And their appearance isn't exactly conducive to a healthy appetite. I can never eat anything pink again."
To Travis's immense satisfaction, Reed laughed. The Ensign considered it a personal victory anytime he could get Malcolm to let down his guard enough to laugh out loud.
"May I join you, gentlemen?" They hadn't noticed Doctor Phlox's approach, but they immediately made room at the table.
"Of course, doctor," Malcolm said politely. Phlox sat and looked at them brightly. The effect was a bit like being studied under a microscope.
"I was just telling the Lieutenant about our Mr'lar visitors," Travis told him, by means of distracting him.
"Ah yes. An interesting group. In fact, several of them came by the medical bay while you were in the decontamination chamber, Lieutenant."
"Did the picture-taking drive you crazy too?" Travis asked.
"Actually, they seemed a bit disappointed at first. In many aspects, I have much more to learn from them in the field of medicine than they do me. However, when I described some of my less orthodox remedies, they perked right up. I finally had to ask them to leave; all of the flashes were disturbing my animals."
"I wish I'd had that excuse." Travis looked over and saw Hoshi enter the room. He waved and called out to her. "Hoshi!"
She appeared not to notice, and walked past them to the food dispensaries. Gathering her dinner, she glanced around the room, eyes finally settling on their table. She smiled and walked over to them. "Mind if I join you?"
"Not at all," Travis answered, smiling. "I tried to call you but you didn't hear me."
"Oh. Well, sorry." Hoshi dropped into a chair and turned to the other table occupants. "Good evening, Lieutenant. Doctor."
Malcolm smiled and Phlox answered in Denobulan, "Good evening, Ensign. And how are you today?"
Hoshi's brows knit together. "Umm…" She shook her head. "I'm sorry, doctor. I'm feeling a little off. Could you repeat that?"
"Never mind," Phlox said, in the language they could all understand. "I simply asked how you are."
They settled into a discussion of the Mr'lar. Hoshi confided that she'd suffered a similar Mr'lar camera attack. As they talked, Commander Tucker came into the mess hall and helped himself to a cup of coffee. Seeing them all gathered together, he grabbed a chair and swung it around to their table, straddling it backwards.
"Lemme guess what you all are talkin' about."
Travis gave him an answering grin. "The Mr'lar. That was some lunch today."
Trip snorted. "Yeah. An' let me tell you," he said, pointing his finger at Travis, "you ever try to leave me high an' dry like that again, I'm gonna make you real sorry."
The Ensign tried to look repentant but failed. "Sorry, Commander, but in a situation like that, it's every man for himself."
Tucker just laughed. "Yeah, can't say I blame you. If I coulda found a tactful way to ditch that guy, I'd a done it in a heartbeat. I'm tellin' ya, if I ever get that annoying with my camera, I want one of ya to shoot me."
"Consider it done, sir," Malcolm promptly replied, deadpan. The others were startled. Trip looked at him dryly. Malcolm grinned a little and went back to his chicken.
