TITLE: Dear Annie ("The Catwalk")
AUTHOR: Mara Greengrass
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL: fishfolk@ix.netcom.com. Feedback is better than chocolate.
PERMISSION TO ARCHIVE: Linguistics Database, yes, others, just let me know.
CATEGORY: Gen
RATINGS/WARNINGS: G
SUMMARY: Hoshi writes home after the events of "The Catwalk."
DISCLAIMER: Enterprise and all its crew belong to Paramount and many other entities with expensive lawyers. I am making no profit from this story.
NOTES: Thanks to Captain Average for the beta :)
* * * * *
Dear Annie,
It's one of those conundrums you hope they answered when they were building the ship, but it turns out they didn't. And let me tell you, the results weren't a pretty sight. The conundrum?
What happens if everyone takes a shower at the same time?
Why, you might reasonably ask, were we all taking showers at the same time? Because we'd all been trapped and showerless for eight days, of course.
Okay, I'll stop teasing you before you break something. Enterprise encountered a class 5 neutronic storm. No, I don't know what that is any more than you do, but it was going to bombard the ship with deadly isotopes. *That*, I understand.
The crew took shelter on the catwalk--the maintenance shafts running the length of each warp nacelle--because it's the best-shielded part of the ship. And it turns out that if the warp reactor is running, it gets pretty darn hot in there. As in, unbearably, unlivably hot. So, we had to shut everything down. We dragged in supplies, and Trip managed to transfer navigation in and rig up a toilet. But that's about it.
We were there for eight days.
Oh yeah, there were also these aliens that were immune to the isotopes, that tried to take the ship, but that kind of thing happens all the time, so I don't really have anything new to report there.
You know, there was some yelling, some shooting, and the Captain nearly had to destroy the ship. The usual stuff.
But compared to the stress of all of us crammed into a small space for eight days, a few aliens with guns are hardly a challenge.
As I told the Captain, this experience should have taken care of any lingering claustrophobia. We'll find out the next time I need to use an EV suit, I suppose.
There were some amusing moments, like Chef practically burning Malcolm for complaining about meatloaf, and T'Pol's attempts at "hanging out" with the crew. I would lay odds that the Captain kicked her into it, because I find it hard to believe she would eat with us or watch a movie without pressure from above.
In the end, I think she rather enjoyed it, though. We're really corrupting the poor woman--I'll bet her own people will hate her when she returns.
There were certainly also some tense moments: Malcolm and Trip arguing over whether there was time to install a shower on the catwalk, a few debates over food, and the incident with Ensign Laurie's perfume. (Don't ask, just don't ask.)
But somehow we survived.
Now that the whole thing is over and we've all been released back to our quarters, I suppose I can see the Captain's point, that the crew has come closer together from this experience. (Perhaps a little closer than we wanted...)
I know we've only got 80-some people (and one dog) on board, but as humans tend to do, we've created little cliques, and it was good to be forced to spend time with people we might otherwise only have known to nod to.
We played a lot of cards (and I greatly improved my abilities at poker, you'll be happy to know), did a lot of puzzles, and watched a lot of movies. (Although I'm going to make a point of finding out who picked them. Just because men are in the majority on the ship doesn't mean we shouldn't get the occasional movie women would enjoy.)
Ensign Tanner and I spent an enjoyable few hours discussing Brazil, as it turns out he spent a few summers there some years ago. Lt. Hess and I had a great time trashing the men on the ship just scandalously. What else? I discovered that Crewman Kelly has absolutely terrible taste in literature. And she's promised to loan me the next three books in the series.
I even got to give some language lessons. A few people wanted to learn a little bit of Vulcan, which I thought was encouraging, and one crewman asked to learn some Spanish, because he's got a crush on Lt. Rivera. Very sweet, I think.
As I said, we survived, and I think we are a bit more of a team than we were eight days ago. But as a substitute couldn't we just have done some of those annoying team-building exercises they always foisted upon us in the dorms? I actually found myself wishing the Captain had just made us sit in a circle and recite our names and favorite music instead.
By the way, the picture of the smoked salmon? Not funny. Not funny at all. And I hear you laughing, don't think I don't. I'll get my revenge somehow. After all, I've been practicing on Travis.
Love,
Hoshi
AUTHOR: Mara Greengrass
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL: fishfolk@ix.netcom.com. Feedback is better than chocolate.
PERMISSION TO ARCHIVE: Linguistics Database, yes, others, just let me know.
CATEGORY: Gen
RATINGS/WARNINGS: G
SUMMARY: Hoshi writes home after the events of "The Catwalk."
DISCLAIMER: Enterprise and all its crew belong to Paramount and many other entities with expensive lawyers. I am making no profit from this story.
NOTES: Thanks to Captain Average for the beta :)
* * * * *
Dear Annie,
It's one of those conundrums you hope they answered when they were building the ship, but it turns out they didn't. And let me tell you, the results weren't a pretty sight. The conundrum?
What happens if everyone takes a shower at the same time?
Why, you might reasonably ask, were we all taking showers at the same time? Because we'd all been trapped and showerless for eight days, of course.
Okay, I'll stop teasing you before you break something. Enterprise encountered a class 5 neutronic storm. No, I don't know what that is any more than you do, but it was going to bombard the ship with deadly isotopes. *That*, I understand.
The crew took shelter on the catwalk--the maintenance shafts running the length of each warp nacelle--because it's the best-shielded part of the ship. And it turns out that if the warp reactor is running, it gets pretty darn hot in there. As in, unbearably, unlivably hot. So, we had to shut everything down. We dragged in supplies, and Trip managed to transfer navigation in and rig up a toilet. But that's about it.
We were there for eight days.
Oh yeah, there were also these aliens that were immune to the isotopes, that tried to take the ship, but that kind of thing happens all the time, so I don't really have anything new to report there.
You know, there was some yelling, some shooting, and the Captain nearly had to destroy the ship. The usual stuff.
But compared to the stress of all of us crammed into a small space for eight days, a few aliens with guns are hardly a challenge.
As I told the Captain, this experience should have taken care of any lingering claustrophobia. We'll find out the next time I need to use an EV suit, I suppose.
There were some amusing moments, like Chef practically burning Malcolm for complaining about meatloaf, and T'Pol's attempts at "hanging out" with the crew. I would lay odds that the Captain kicked her into it, because I find it hard to believe she would eat with us or watch a movie without pressure from above.
In the end, I think she rather enjoyed it, though. We're really corrupting the poor woman--I'll bet her own people will hate her when she returns.
There were certainly also some tense moments: Malcolm and Trip arguing over whether there was time to install a shower on the catwalk, a few debates over food, and the incident with Ensign Laurie's perfume. (Don't ask, just don't ask.)
But somehow we survived.
Now that the whole thing is over and we've all been released back to our quarters, I suppose I can see the Captain's point, that the crew has come closer together from this experience. (Perhaps a little closer than we wanted...)
I know we've only got 80-some people (and one dog) on board, but as humans tend to do, we've created little cliques, and it was good to be forced to spend time with people we might otherwise only have known to nod to.
We played a lot of cards (and I greatly improved my abilities at poker, you'll be happy to know), did a lot of puzzles, and watched a lot of movies. (Although I'm going to make a point of finding out who picked them. Just because men are in the majority on the ship doesn't mean we shouldn't get the occasional movie women would enjoy.)
Ensign Tanner and I spent an enjoyable few hours discussing Brazil, as it turns out he spent a few summers there some years ago. Lt. Hess and I had a great time trashing the men on the ship just scandalously. What else? I discovered that Crewman Kelly has absolutely terrible taste in literature. And she's promised to loan me the next three books in the series.
I even got to give some language lessons. A few people wanted to learn a little bit of Vulcan, which I thought was encouraging, and one crewman asked to learn some Spanish, because he's got a crush on Lt. Rivera. Very sweet, I think.
As I said, we survived, and I think we are a bit more of a team than we were eight days ago. But as a substitute couldn't we just have done some of those annoying team-building exercises they always foisted upon us in the dorms? I actually found myself wishing the Captain had just made us sit in a circle and recite our names and favorite music instead.
By the way, the picture of the smoked salmon? Not funny. Not funny at all. And I hear you laughing, don't think I don't. I'll get my revenge somehow. After all, I've been practicing on Travis.
Love,
Hoshi