Paint and Powder

A Star Trek anthology by Andrew Joshua Talon

DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan based work of prose. Star Trek: The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, Voyager et al are the property of CBS Television, and creation of Gene Roddenberry. Please support the official release.

Roon for Growth

By jhmoser

USS Dove, Relaxation Ship

"Ah, Captain Freeman and her crew, welcome. I am Dove, and I will be helping you with your relaxation today," the smooth voice flowed like a tranquil river from the mouth of the gynoid facing Freeman, Billups, his engineering staff, and Roon. They gynoid had a bland, featureless build.

"Thank you, Dove," Freeman said, looking around the empty lobby. "Is it just you here?"

"Oh, no. My crew is currently very busy, so I handle the in-processing. I would not want them to be too stressed."

"Good. Well, my engineers need some relaxation, and Dr. T'ana suggested that Roon might benefit as well."

"That hussy just wanted to get me away from my Bradward," Roon muttered, her eyes flicking from one side of the room to another. "I know all of them want him. But he's mine, mine own, my Captain."

"Another ship girl?" Dove said. "That will be a challenge, but she is not the first to benefit from my relaxation therapies," Dove replied. Small drones floated out to hand wristbands to each crewmember. Once they put them on their wrists, they turned a bright yellow, except for Roon, which turned a deep red. "Oh, yes, she is in need of help."

"My Bradward has been too bold lately!" Roon said. "What if he's currently journeying through the depths of that c🔇t Cerritos, exposing himself to danger?"

"Captain, let's focus on Roon, while my drones escort your engineers to their therapies? I think she may need extra help."

"Now, just say whatever words come to mind," a hologram of Dove said to a twitching Roon as they sat together in a therapy room. Captain Freeman and the gynoid watched through the window to the hall outside.

"Bradward. Boimler. Captain. Bradward. Boim-"

"Yes, now, let's move a little farther afield, hmmm?"

"-ler. Captain. Manly. Lips. Tongue. Arms. Legs. Chest. Navel. C🔇k-"

The window went black and the sound cut out. "Oh, my," Dove said. "We should move on."

"Are you sure you can help her? To be honest, most of the time she's better than this, as long as she's near Boimler."

"Oh, yes," Dove said. "We have many relaxation methods on the Dove. One of them will do the trick."

Inside another therapy room, Roon is surrounded by arts and crafts supplies.

"Constructive therapy often works wonders, Captain," Dove said.

Roon used the box of scraps in front of her and made a small phaser, which she began to shoot at the door to the room. Dove's drones moved to restrain her.

"I see we will need stronger methods," Dove said, a faint tone of irritation entering her voice.

Freeman looked on with concern as a protesting Roon was strapped down to a biobed by another gynoid.

"What are you doing?" she asked the bland-looking gynoid.

"This is a special therapy for ship girls that I have devised. I will engage her in the Borderlands and get to the root of her problems, which I will excise. Soon she will be perfectly relaxed."

"Heh, heh," Freeman laughed nervously. "That sounds almost like a lobotomy."

"It is similar, but she will be very, very relaxed afterward."

"She'll have no mind left! She'll be just a machine!"

"Aren't we all, in a way...?"

"Now, wait a moment-!" Freeman began to object, but Dove's drones moved to restrain her.

"You are becoming very stressed, Captain," Dove said in her tranquil, calm voice. "I may need to use stronger methods of relaxation on you."

"You have no right to change what I am!

" Roon shouted from inside the room.

"You've already been changed; that's the problem," Dove's hologram replied blandly. "Abyssals need so much relaxation."

Dove and Roon went quiet. Then the lights flickered.

"No-" Dove said, her voice warping.

"RED ALERT!" a mechanical voice blared. "R-R-RED A-L-E-R-T. BLED SHIRT."

"What the-?" Freeman said.

Suddenly, a panel in the hallway wall bust outwards and Billups and Rutherford emerged. "Captain! Dove's gone mad. She locked all her crew up in therapy rooms and-what's going on here?" Billups asked, as Rutherford deactivated Dove's drones with a cobbled together device.

"BREAD DESSERT. BED PERVERT. MED SQUIRT."

"I think Miss Roon is teaching Dove something about the Abyss," Freeman said, with an air of satisfaction.

The face of Dove's other gynoid was suddenly slammed against the window looking into Roon's therapy room.

"Release... me..." the gynoid rasped. The Cerritos crewmembers then could see Roon holding Dove's severed head by its bland hair, using her hands to make its mouth move.

"I think we better get back to the Cerritos," Freeman said, a little unsettled. "No point in continuing here... it'll take months for this ship to recover."

"Only months?" Roon's voice came over the intercom. "Then perhaps my work here is not done."

"Let's get you back to Ensign Boimler, Roon," Freeman said, in her 'talking crazy people off the ledge' voice. "How does that sound?"

USS Cerritos

"Roon!" Boimler said, his voice filled with delight.

"Bradward!" Roon exclaimed, hugging him desperately. "Are you alright? You didn't get into any trouble, did you? Did anyone touch you inappropriately? Do I need to a 🐩?"

"No, no," Boimler said. "Just a little scuffle with Delta shift. Oh, good news! Mariner, Tendi, and Rutherford are going to be sharing the room right next to ours!"

"That is... good... news," Roon said, glaring at Mariner, who just stuck her tongue out in response.

That night, Beckett Mariner groaned as she held a pillow over her head, trying to ignore the rhythmic thumping coming from the wall beside her.

"I think I know why this room came up for the lottery," she muttered.

Tendi and Rutherford just slept on.

AN: Another story based on the latest Lower Decks, with a little bit of Transformers G1 "Webworld" and the movie "Independence Day."
Off screen, Billups and Rutherford led the Engineers in a heroic struggle against Dove and her "enforced relaxation" techniques, but that is a story for someone else to write. Dove is off to Memory Alpha after this.