Game Theory
Chapter 5 – Ensign Mordecai
Sayuri awoke with a start to the sound of her comm badge chirping insistently. Rolling over with a stifled groan of protest, she blearily scrabbled around in the pool of uniform she'd left on the floor last night, searching for the small metal device through half-lidded eyes.
Who would want to talk to me this early? She thought, somewhat irritably. Her shift didn't start for another two hours yet, and she was never usually needed outside of her scheduled work day.
"Ensign Yoshida, this is the Captain," the raspy, commanding tone echoed around the room, distorted somewhat by the small speaker in the badge, but still demanding respect. Sayuri blanched as she heard it, heaving herself up onto all fours and frantically going through the rest of her clothes with renewed vigour. She finally located the communicator in one of the trouser legs, where it had apparently come loose and slipped when she'd undressed.
"Y-Yes Captain," she stammered quickly as she fumbled the device, aghast at how croaky and dry her voice sounded. There was a brief pause, and Sayuri could only tremble in anticipation of the lecture she was about to receive.
"I'm sorry if I woke you Ensign," Janeway said, her voice softening imperceptibly, "but I have a special assignment for you; one which I think would be suited to your talents. It will replace your usual duties immediately and until further notice."
"Y-Yes ma'am, what do you need me to do?" Sayuri was relieved that she wasn't in trouble for taking so long to answer the hail, but her fear was replaced with a nervous apprehension. It must be an important task, if the Captain was speaking to her about it directly. She could count the number of times that had happened on one hand.
"Our guest, Mordecai, has applied for a position in Starfleet, and I have decided to grant his request. I need someone to show him around, give him an idea of how Voyager runs and help him acclimatise. Seven of Nine suggested that you would be suitable for the role."
What the hell gave Seven that idea? Sayuri wondered, glad that the transmission was audio only so the Captain couldn't see her mouth flapping like a fish as she struggled to find words. No doubt the Borg thought she was doing Sayuri a favour, and while she was grateful that Seven had considered her, she wasn't sure what she could possibly do to help an ancient robot settle in when she herself still felt like an outsider. There was also a rumour going around that Mordecai had aced every Starfleet entrance exam in twenty minutes. If that was true, then she was hopelessly out of her depth. It had taken her months of solid revision to prepare for those tests.
Still, Janeway was the Captain, and presumably she knew what she was doing. Sayuri just hoped against hope that she was somehow up to the task. After all, Seven's reputation was now riding on her as well; it would make the astrometrics officer look rather foolish if the person she recommended turned out to be utterly useless.
How did I suddenly get into a situation where I could quite easily end up disappointing the two most frightening women on the ship? Oh God, please let this be a nightmare.
"I'd be honoured, ma'am," she said out loud, managing to keep the panic from creeping into her voice. "When do I begin?"
"Mordecai's shift starts in an hour. I've got him scheduled to spend a day in each department at first, starting with yours. I want you to keep an eye on him; make sure he understands how the ship operates, and answer any questions he might have."
"A-Aye, Ma'am."
"Very good. Report directly to me if any issues arise."
The line disengaged, and Sayuri felt an ominous cloud of dread settle over her. It wasn't in Seven's nature to lie, but clearly she must have phrased the proposal in a way which greatly exaggerated the young Ensign's talents, either intentionally or by accident. With a resigned sigh, she dragged herself fully out of bed and into the bathroom, staring dejectedly at the person she saw in the mirror.
What will I say to him? She thought, realising that she should start mentally preparing herself now if she didn't want to embarrass herself later. I don't even know where to start.
Of course, she could think of any number of questions she wanted to ask Mordecai, but it didn't really seem appropriate to bother him with them when she was meant to be the one showing him around. He would be with her to find out about Voyager, not vice-versa, and she really didn't want him to see her as a nuisance.
Sayuri had just finished her morning routine and was about to get changed when a beep indicated that someone was waiting outside her quarters.
Oh God, who is this now?
"Computer, who is at my door?" She spoke quietly in case they could hear and might be offended that she'd ask rather than just let them enter.
"Ensign Mordecai," the automated voice replied, as if the answer wasn't one of the most terrifying things that Sayuri had ever heard.
Oh shit.
"C-Come in," she said instinctively, although it was barely more than a frightened squeak which left her throat.
The doors parted smoothly, and Mordecai stepped inside. He was tall, at around 6'3", and radiated a presence which made it feel like he filled the entire room. Lidless eyes swept across her quarters, glowing with the richest sapphire blue that Sayuri had ever seen. As they came to rest on her, she was suddenly very aware of the fact that she was clad only in her night dress. His gaze was piercing, and she got the impression that he could see right through the thin fabric if he wanted to.
Unlike the last time she had seen him, albeit briefly, he now wore a blue Starfleet uniform. It clung to his frame, almost like a second skin, hugging the curvature of every sculpted muscle beneath. Except, she reminded herself, it wasn't real muscle; just a facsimile to make him appear more human.
Still, he's…handsome.
Quite where that thought had come from, and what on Earth it said about her, Sayuri didn't know, but she was mortified that it was popping up now, right when she wanted to try and make a good first impression. Instead of smiling and smoothly introducing herself like she'd briefly rehearsed, she glanced away, attempting to conceal the red flush of embarrassment which quickly crept into her cheeks.
Wow, I'm hopeless.
She had little doubt that Mordecai saw absolutely everything, but he seemingly had the good grace to not mention it, or simply did not understand what it meant. Instead, he spoke, and Sayuri found her gaze being drawn back to him despite her urge to flee into the bedroom and lock the door.
"Ensign Yoshida," he said, tilting his head slightly in a respectful greeting. "I apologize for arriving early and unannounced. I thought it would be agreeable if we could talk before our shift begins and get acquainted with each other, since we will be working together for the foreseeable future."
"I…" Sayuri really didn't know what to say in response, so she settled for a stalling tactic. "I…yes…of course. I just need to go…change…be right back."
She half-scrabbled, half-backpedalled back into the bedroom. It was only when the sliding doors had swished shut, shielding her from view, that she let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Sayuri knew that she couldn't take too long before Mordecai would begin to wonder what the problem was, but she allowed herself a minute to bury her face in her hands, trying to organise her thoughts and slow her racing heart.
You can do this. Come on, deep breaths. Just focus on making it through the next minute without doing something stupid, and repeat until the day is over.
Returning to the door a few minutes later, she took a tremulous breath in a futile effort to steady her fraying nerves.
Here goes nothing.
Sayuri stepped out and glanced around, put off for a moment when Mordecai was not where he had been before. Then she spotted him next to the window, inspecting one of her photos which rested on the shelf below. He was gazing at it with an utterly inscrutable expression; not that Sayuri had ever been much good at reading people anyway.
"The humans in this picture," he said, turning to face her. "If I may ask; who are they?"
Sayuri drew closer. The photo he was indicating showed a middle aged Japanese man and woman, dressed smartly and smiling at the camera. In the background, the red towers and cables of the Golden Gate Bridge were just about visible, snaking away across a wide, open bay.
"They're my parents," Sayuri replied, feeling a small squeeze at her throat like it always did when she looked at that picture for too long. "It…It was taken on the day of my graduation…from Starfleet Academy."
"Ah, they are your progenitors," Mordecai glanced at the photo again, nodding in understanding. "It must have been a proud day for them."
"It was," Sayuri agreed, looking at the happy couple wistfully. "They were so pleased when they heard that I'd gotten my commission on Voyager. If only they'd known…"
Feeling like she might cry if they continued, Sayuri quickly changed the topic.
"A-Anyway, do you want to go to the mess hall? We can get some food before our…that is…if you…" she trailed off uncertainly, only realising once she'd started talking that she actually had no idea whether Mordecai even needed to eat.
Only a minute before your first stupid blunder. Congratulations, that's a new record.
"I do not require organic nutrition; however, your metabolism rate indicates that you have not yet had breakfast," Mordecai replied, smiling. "So yes, the mess hall would seem like a good place to start."
"T-Thank you." Sayuri said, although she was not entirely sure what she was thanking him for. She also decided that she really didn't want to know how he could tell what her metabolism rate was, for her own peace of mind.
Oh God, she thought, as they left her quarters. How am I ever going to make it through the day?
Captain Janeway shook her head firmly, trying to clear it enough to focus on the report in front of her. In truth, the details of what the science team had uncovered so far regarding the cube were actually quite fascinating, and on any other day, it would have absorbed her completely. As it was, though, she was barely able to read more than a few sentences before she realised that ten minutes had passed and she'd become utterly side-tracked, staring off into space with an unfocussed, glassy-eyed gaze.
She couldn't stop thinking about Seven. Janeway had hoped that the fact that she had hardly seen the Borg woman these past few days would have been enough to put her out of her mind, but it seemed that her rebellious subconscious had decided to compensate for the lack of visual stimulation by conjuring up images of its own. Quite improper, impossible images…
Alone in her ready room, she had the good grace to blush with slight embarrassment. These really weren't the kind of things a starship Captain should be thinking about, especially while still on duty. If she caught any other members of her crew daydreaming like she was and slacking on their duties, she'd have had a few stern words to say to them. It wasn't fair that she indulged in it herself.
Oh why not? Kathryn piped up. If you're not going to let yourself have Seven, at least allow yourself to fantasize. You've got to find some sort of middle ground or you'll drive yourself crazy.
I'm debating with myself in my own head, she thought ruefully. I'd say that's already happened. And besides, it's not a question of 'allowing' myself. Seven has expressed no interest in me whatsoever.
You don't know that unless you ask. Do you really think Seven, a novice to humanity, can figure this out by herself if you can't? Perhaps she doesn't even realise you're an option.
Well that's fortunate then, because I'm not.
Suit yourself. I can wait.
"You'll be waiting a long time," Janeway growled, abruptly standing up. This was getting her nowhere fast. She needed a coffee, and she needed to get this damned report over with. Marching over to the replicator, she ordered her usual mug of piping hot caffeine, and was just retrieving it from the alcove when her door chime sounded.
"Enter," she called, smoothing her tone into something a bit more neutral than she felt.
The doors parted, and Janeway felt her stomach sink as Seven of Nine entered, her demeanour as cool and mechanical as ever. At least, that's what the Captain told herself. The softening of Seven's stern expression and the flicker of warmth which crossed her eyes were probably just tricks of the light. Yeah…definitely…the light.
"Seven," Janeway greeted, ignoring her nagging uncertainties. "What brings you here?"
"Captain," the Borg woman replied, and Janeway thought she could detect a trace of unease in the way she said the word. It would have been imperceptible to anyone else, but the Captain knew Seven well, and found that she had learnt to read her tiny 'tells'.
"Is something the matter?" Janeway asked again, concerned when Seven made no move to elaborate or come further into the room.
"I am unsure," the other woman replied, brow furrowing slightly. "I…It is nothing. I am wasting your time. Forgive me."
She turned abruptly to leave, and instinctively, Janeway reached out and placed a hand on her upper arm, halting her before she reached the door. Seven seemed surprised at the contact, but did not pull away. Instead, she turned back to face the Captain, although she made no effort to remove the older woman's hand.
"It's clearly not 'nothing', Seven, if you felt the need to come all the way to the bridge to see me about it." The Captain replied with a smile, but was suddenly very conscious of the fact that she was still touching Seven when there was really no reason to do so. In what felt like a slightly awkward gesture, she removed her hand, surprised at how warm and tingly it felt.
"Why don't you have a seat?" she continued, knowing the Borg would probably refuse, but feeling the need to sit down herself.
"I pref…" Seven began, then in an almost unprecedented event, seemed to change her mind. "Thank you."
She took a place on the sofa opposite Janeway, her posture as immaculate as it always was on the rare occasions that she agreed to be seated. The fact that she had done so with very little resistance was unusual. Janeway didn't know whether to be pleased or worried.
"Now, what's troubling you?" she asked, mentally going over a list of the most likely causes of Seven's unease. The younger woman often came to her when she had questions regarding humanity or social interactions, but she sensed that wasn't what was on Seven's mind right now. It was possibly a personal problem; maybe new biological function reasserting itself after years of being supressed by Borg technology? In that case though, surely she would have gone to the Doctor rather than her?
"I believe I have made an error in judgement," Seven stated evenly, although her inflection betrayed the difficulty she felt in admitting it.
"How so?" Startled, Janeway wondered where this was going. To her knowledge, Seven hadn't made any mistakes in her work lately. In fact, she rarely made any at all, full stop.
"I…I suggested that you assign Ensign Yoshida as Moredcai's liaison, but I…" Seven stopped again, grimacing with extreme annoyance. "…I do not know how to explain."
"Just take your time," the Captain urged gently, used to having to slowly tease information from Seven when she was feeling confused or vulnerable. "Why don't you start at the beginning? Do you think you were wrong to make that suggestion?"
"I do not doubt the Ensign's abilities," Seven said slowly, clearly picking each word with deliberate intent. "But, I doubt Mordecai. I…it is illogical, he has done nothing, and yet I mistrust him. He gives me a bad 'gut feeling'. I fear I have endangered Ensign Yoshida by assigning her to him."
"Endangered?" Janeway's eyes widened in alarm. Seven wasn't the sort to use hyperbole, and yet, she could think of nothing which would make the Borg come to that conclusion. "Before we go any further, let me remind you that you didn't assign her Seven, I did. You merely suggested a candidate; if it had not been her, it would have been someone else. I'm the one responsible, not you."
Seven considered that for a moment, before finally nodding. That was another ominous sign. Janeway doubted very much that Seven truly agreed with what she'd just said, but if she was willing to concede the point, it could only be because she had something more important to say.
"I understand. However I do believe he is a danger to this ship. We should not have brought him on board. We…"
"Seven," Janeway cut in, holding up her hands to stall the Borg's tirade. "I know I told you to trust your instincts, but you have to understand that you can have a 'bad feeling' about someone for any number of reasons. It doesn't mean they're dangerous or hostile."
"Explain," Seven said, and Janeway could only chuckle at how direct she was, despite her underlying concern. There were very few people, on Voyager or off, who could give the Captain an order and expect to get away with it, much less have it carried out.
"It could be that you simply dislike the person in question. Something about them irritates you or just doesn't mesh with your personality. Or maybe you're jealous of them."
"Jealous?" a hurt look crossed Seven's face, and Janeway realised that maybe she hadn't phrased herself very well. "Do you believe I am jealous of Mordecai? That would imply that you believe I am inferior to him."
"I didn't mean to imply that," the Captain replied earnestly, retreating into damage-control mode. "Sorry, it was a poor choice of words. I do not believe you are inferior to him at all. But I freely admit that I felt touches of envy myself, and I wouldn't be surprised if you felt the same. Seven, he surpassed every record for Starfleet aptitude tests with only five minutes of study; something not even Lieutenant Commander Data could achieve. His abilities are certainly exceptional, and a degree of envy is a natural, human response. It's not a good one, but it is normal. The important thing is being able to move past it. Mordecai may be gifted, but that doesn't make him superior to you, me, or anyone else."
For some reason, Janeway felt a need to have Seven agree with her on this; to make the younger woman understand. It was silly, she knew; as the Captain, she hardly required the approval of someone who was not even a member of Starfleet, and she certainly didn't have to justify herself to them. It also certainly wasn't the first time that she and Seven had butted heads over a decision, but this felt more important. Almost like it was a personal, rather than professional dispute.
"Seven, there were people who initially felt the same about you. I won't name names, but some people told me that they knew, on an instinctual level, that I was making the wrong decision," she continued, pushing harder. "They thought I was insane for allowing a Borg drone to remain on Voyager, much less letting her join the crew. Yet just look how time has proved them wrong. You have become not only a valuable addition to the crew, but a distinctive individual in your own right. Now, the ship can't do without you."
I can't do without you.
Seven regarded her evenly, and this time Janeway truly was at a loss when it came to deciphering what her guest was feeling.
"Very well," the Borg woman stated eventually, and Janeway let out a small sigh of relief. "I will attempt to give Mordecai the 'benefit of the doubt', and reject my initial impression of him."
"I'm glad to hear it," the Captain said, downing the last dregs of her now lukewarm coffee. "And thank you, for making the effort. I can't order you to like him, but just try to give him a chance. Who knows? Sometimes it's surprising how quickly people can grow on you."
In some cases, very surprising.
Seven looked at her, and Janeway was glad to see her small smile return as the mood imperceptibly lightened.
"How am I to know when I should trust my instincts, and when I should override them?" the Borg asked.
"That's a tricky one, and I'm not sure there is any definite answer," Janeway blew some air out of her mouth, leaning back on the sofa as she pondered Seven's question. "It's a balancing act, like so much in life is I guess. Our instincts are sharp. They draw on subconscious knowledge we can't usually access; our primal ability to sense danger, or when someone is lying. But they can also be fooled. Humans evolved as prey animals, and we can often feel threatened when there is no real danger."
"Yet you are able to do it so well," Seven looked down, somewhat sheepishly, which just confused Janeway all the more. "You always know when to follow your 'hunches' and when to adhere to protocol."
"Can I get that recorded?" The Captain smirked crookedly. "Then I could play it back to you the next time you come barging in here to question one of my decisions."
"It is true that sometimes I do not agree with you," Seven replied quietly, her soft voice a glaring contrast to her normal, clipped tone. "However, often, after the event, it is made clear that your course of action was indeed the best option. I find Starfleet an inefficient organisation, and yet, despite being part of this flawed system, you have managed to sustain this ship through adversity and almost certain destruction on many occasions. You have built a perfect machine out of imperfect parts; a contradiction to a species like the Borg. I…'respect' you for it."
Janeway stared at Seven, stunned into silence by the uncharacteristic openness she was showing. The Borg was always a very honest person, yet she rarely, if ever, voluntarily displayed or spoke about her own personal feelings. It was why so many people on board saw her as the 'ice queen'.
How can anyone think that? If they could see what I'm seeing now…
"I never realised you thought so highly of me," Kathryn croaked, her throat suddenly very dry. It meant so much to hear such words coming from Seven. The crew respected Janeway, or so she hoped, because of her rank. It was an ingrained instinct for them to admire the Captain, and the mere fact she'd managed to get the position was enough for them. Seven, on the other hand, had made it clear many times that she cared little for the command structure. If she respected Janeway, it was because the Captain had truly earned it.
"If you ever thought otherwise, then I was in error."
A moment of silence settled between them, during which Janeway just looked across the table at Seven, who had now returned to studying her intently.
She was so heart-achingly beautiful.
It would be so easy. Just close those last few feet and put an end to all your misery. She wouldn't resist. You heard her; she thinks the world of you, even though you don't deserve it.
"Captain!" Seven exclaimed suddenly, shocking Janeway out of the moment. Looking down, she saw the shattered remains of her coffee mug, which had slipped from her limp fingers and scattered across the floor. Seven's voice had been disproportionately alarmed considering how minor the accident was. Janeway wondered if she too had been enraptured in the moment, and equally startled by its abrupt end.
"Oh dear, what a mess," Janeway quickly busied herself gathering up the pieces, not trusting herself to look back up. Her resolve was hanging by a thread, and she feared that just one more glance would cause her to do something unforgivable.
"Do you require assistance?"
"No," the Captain said quickly, stalling over gathering up every last fragment. "No, thank you. I've got it. I think we're done here Seven. If there's nothing else, you can return to your post."
"I…" the Borg woman began, and Janeway realised that there were any number of things Seven could say which would shatter her command mask completely.
"Yes, Captain."
Janeway didn't respond, and remained in her tensed, crouched position. She sensed the other woman delaying at the door, and could only imagine the look on her face; and then she was gone, with a faint, pressurized 'whoosh'.
Sayuri entered the mess hall in a daze, her mind whirling from the day's events. She had expected Mordecai to be good, brilliant even, from the little she'd heard, but that hadn't stopped her from being utterly blown away when she saw him in action. Within an hour of arriving in the xenoscience department, he had translated an alien dialect they had been struggling with for months, found the underlying relationship between three previously unrelated genera of poisonous Actirian toads, and identified the culture of origin of seven unknown artefacts that pre-dated Voyager by tens of millennia. It had taken all her knowledge, not to mention physical fitness, just to keep up with him as he paced around the lab, seemingly able to do about five different things at once. He had explained that his synthetic mind consisted of millions of individual processes which could be compartmentalised into working on multiple tasks simultaneously. It was a difficult concept to wrap her head around, but its effectiveness was plainly evident.
Retrieving a tray of Neelix's most recent culinary 'masterpiece', Sayuri found her usual spot in the corner, away from the main hustle and bustle around the food counter. Mordecai had said he would join her once he had finished the chemoanalysis of a fungi sample from the planet they'd stopped at several months back. In truth, Sayuri was rather surprised that he wanted to come at all. He didn't need to eat, and she couldn't imagine that her company was really worth the effort, especially not to him. Of all the people on the ship, it was probably only Seven who stood any hope of holding a conversation at his level.
Still, whatever reasons he had for spending time with her, even if it was just politeness, she was grateful for it. He was one of the first on Voyager to do so; odd, considering how little they really had in common.
Perhaps he likes having someone drool all over him like a lovesick puppy. Or maybe he enjoys having things pointed out to him five minutes after he's already figured them out.
Sayuri picked at her food dejectedly, and not just because it smelt like something she would have expected to find in a petri dish. It seemed to be a rule that the further out of her league someone was, or the more impossible a relationship would be, the more she was drawn to them. Mordecai certainly fit both those categories quite nicely, and as she could have predicted, she'd found herself spending less and less time actually working, and more and more time just watching him work, with what she suspected was the most stupid, awe-struck look on her face. There was something magnetic about him which completely swept her away.
It surprised Sayuri just how strong her attraction was. She felt like his alien appearance and the fact he wasn't even a biological organism should at least bother her a bit, but it didn't at all. All she saw when she looked at him was someone of exceptional ability, who still remained gracious and polite, even when confronted with the sort of bumbling fool most people didn't spare a second glance.
Whatever, it's not like your feelings are important anyway. Mordecai will forget about you soon enough, as soon as he has the chance to speak with some of the other, more interesting members of the crew. Like, say, someone who can string a sentence together without stammering or blushing.
Lost in her thoughts, Sayuri didn't see the figure approaching the table until he was right in front of her.
"What's the matter little missy, all by yourself again?"
The young woman glanced up, and stifled a groan of annoyance as she recognised the brutish form of Ensign Chad Baker. The thickly built, ex-Maquis security officer had acted as if he wanted to befriend her when he first came on board, but his increasingly lecherous behaviour had quickly made his true intentions clear. After summoning up the courage to turn him down and tell him to leave her alone, he had seemingly taken it upon himself to make her life as miserable as possible whenever he could. Thankfully, they worked different shifts, so they rarely ran into one another, but the occasional times when they did, such as this one, were always unpleasant.
"Actually, I am meeting Ensign Mordecai," she replied, hoping that would be enough to convince him that his bullying wasn't worth the effort.
"What, the jumped-up tin opener?" Chad sneered, laughing at his own joke. "Yeah right. You expect me to believe that? I don't see him, and besides, what would he want with you?"
"I don't care whether you believe me or not. It's really none of your business," Sayuri snapped, turning back to her food. She could feel her face heating up, only this time it was from anger, rather than embarrassment. What was this jerk's problem? Was he really still annoyed that she hadn't accepted his advances? She may be lonely, but she hoped she'd never ever be that desperate.
"What if I want to make it my business?" Chad sat down next to her, causing the chair to creak slightly under his weight. Sayuri thought she could detect a faint whiff of alcohol on his breath. In the very short time that she'd actually known him, she'd discovered that he was a heavy drinker.
Suddenly aware that she might actually be in danger, Sayuri grabbed the edges of her tray, intending to quickly dart away from the table and back into the better-lit, busier part of the mess. There was no way Chad would try anything with people watching, but hidden in this corner, and drunk as he apparently was, who knew?
A meaty hand grabbed her wrist as she tensed to rise.
"Hey, where you do you think you're going? I'm not done talking yet."
Sayuri was about to shout for help, when she spotted another figure coming up behind her aggressor. An immediately recognisable pair of blue eyes glowed in the shadow.
"If I were you, I'd let Ensign Yoshida go," Mordecai said, his voice completely calm.
Chad froze for a moment, but quickly regained his composure, leering cockily.
"So, she wasn't lying eh? I'll tell you now mate, you're wasting your time with this one. She's a frigid bitch."
"You have two options, crewman," Mordecai continued. "If you release her now, apologize, and leave the mess hall, I will take no further action. Otherwise, this incident will be reported to the Captain."
"Ooh, you'll 'report' me?" Chad twisted in his seat to face the synthetic man, but didn't release his grasp on Sayuri's wrist. He was squeezing tightly, and it was beginning to hurt. "And who do you think the Captain would believe? A trusted Starfleet officer, or some metal freak from the Stone Age?"
"Firstly, might I remind you that I am also a Starfleet officer. Secondly, she will not need to 'believe' me. I am equipped with both audio and video recording capabilities, and have captured this entire exchange. Now, I say again; leave."
"You sure do talk pretty big," Chad finally let go, and Sayuri took the opportunity to duck out from behind the table, retreating out of arms reach. By now, a small group of people had gathered around the other two, probably because of all the heads Mordecai had turned when he entered the room.
Despite his cocksure attitude, Sayuri could see a few droplets of sweat forming on Chad's brow. He probably hadn't intended to make such a scene, but now that everyone was watching, he was unlikely to back down. The man was confident to the point of arrogance, and in his drunken state, he would probably put his pride above taking the sensible course of action.
Sure enough, Chad stood up, kicking the chair aside. Sayuri heard someone behind request a security team to come and break up the commotion; however it would take them precious seconds to arrive. She watched helplessly as Chad squared up to Mordecai, and prayed that the alien knew how to defend himself. They were the same height, but Chad bulged with stocky muscle as opposed to the metal man's more sculpted frame.
"Well, listen here, 'Ensign'," the burly man slurred. "We didn't need the Borg bitch, and we sure as shit don't need you. So why don't you just fuck off back to wherever you came from, huh?!"
What happened next was over in the blink of an eye, yet Sayuri saw it all. She didn't think she would ever forget it. Chad took a swing at Mordecai, right at his face. The synthetic didn't move a muscle. He let the punch land, and didn't budge an inch as Chad's fist cracked across his jaw with a sickening crunch. It was like the security officer had tried to floor a duranium bulkhead. He recoiled, howling in pain and staring at his rapidly swelling, clearly broken hand.
Then, as if he was brushing lint from his jacket, Mordecai backhanded Chad across the chest. The force lifted the man, who must have weighed about 15 stone, clear off the deck, and sent him flying across the room to crash into an empty table, which buckled significantly under the impact. He tumbled heavily to the floor, scattering chairs, and lay there, groaning but unmoving. As he did, Tuvok and two security officers came running in through one of the doors, phasers drawn.
"Report," the Vulcan barked, calm as ever, but raising his voice to ensure he was heard.
Everyone looked around in stunned silence for a few seconds. Sayuri wanted to speak up, to make it clear that Mordecai had just been defending her and then himself, but her courage faltered under Tuvok's piercing gaze. Fortunately however, she didn't have to say anything.
"It was Chad," someone said. "I saw it. He grabbed Ensign Yoshida, and then attacked Mordecai."
This was met with a chorus of agreement from the other onlookers, and Sayuri felt a surge of gratitude. Clearly, Mordecai hadn't been in any danger from on oaf like Chad, but that didn't change the fact that he had rescued her.
"Very well," Tuvok said, clearly satisfied with the eyewitness testimony of so many Starfleet officers. "Ensign Palmer, retrieve a stretcher for Ensign Baker and escort him to sickbay."
"Aye, Sir."
"Are you okay?" Mordecai asked kindly, turning to Sayuri as Tuvok issued orders.
"Y-Yes, I think so," she glanced up at him furtively, hoping her expression made it clear how thankful she was. "I'm just a bit jittery. It-It could have been worse, if you hadn't come when you did."
"No matter the time period or universe, there are always those who will attempt to claim what they want by force." Mordecai replied solemnly. Sayuri was inclined to agree.
"Ensign Mordecai," Tuvok approached them as Chad was wheeled out, still moaning pitifully. "While I commend you for your desire to protect Ensign Yoshida, I would suggest that next time, you exercise less force when doing so. I am certain both Ensign Baker and the furniture would be grateful."
"Understood, Sir," the synthetic replied.
"I will need official statements from both of you, however it can wait until Ensign Baker has recovered. In the meantime, I advise you get some rest. Be assured, he will remain in custody until this incident has been satisfactorily resolved."
"Thank you, sir," Sayuri mumbled.
Tuvok walked off, talking on the comm with the Captain and arranging for a cleanup team to come and repair the damaged table. Gradually, the rest of the crew began to disperse as well. A few of them uncertainly approached Mordecai, reassuring him that they'd speak on his behalf if the Captain decided to order an official inquest. Sayuri doubted it would come to that though. Chad was well known for his bullying, and had been on report many times for similar minor incidents. Were they back in the Federation, he would never have made it into Starfleet. Out here though, they needed every man they could get, and there was no questioning Chad's ability to hold his own in a fight.
Well. Sayuri thought, sneaking an admiring gaze at Mordecai. Against most people anyway. No doubt he'll think twice before trying anything else.
"Were you able to eat before you were interrupted?" Mordecai asked.
"N-No," Sayuri replied, only remembering what she had come here for in the first place when her stomach let out an embarrassingly loud growl of protest. "It doesn't look like I will now though; Neelix is shutting up for the night."
"Perhaps you can replicate something."
"I wish I could," she said glumly. "But I've used all my ration slips for the week."
She didn't mention that she'd actually blown them all earlier that evening on a fancy dress she hoped would make her look less plain. It had been a stupid, impulsive decision which she'd immediately regretted. As if something like that would mean anything to Mordecai. Unless he came from a society which considered short, skinny Asian girls attractive, she was undoubtedly wasting her time.
"You forget that I possess an internal reactor," Mordecai said, gesturing to the door. "It would be a simple matter to power the replicator for you."
For the umpteenth time that day, Sayuri was stunned into momentary silence. Just when she thought she was beginning to understand this strange, wonderful man, he came out with something which would be unbelievable if said by anyone else.
"I…" She could sense a small fluttering in her chest, accompanied by a kind of nervous anticipation which she hadn't allowed herself to feel for quite a while. "I don't know what to…thank you…I-I would be very grateful."
"Do not mention it."
Mordecai smiled a dazzling, chrome grin, and in that moment, Sayuri knew she was in deep.