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: "Acts of Reprisal"

Mariner had come to the Boimler raisin farm to get her sidekick back before entering into a deed of derring-do to clear her mother-er, captain's name. It wasn't quite the situation she was expecting.

Boimler was out in the vineyards, tending to things, with Roon's gynoid along. The slightly unstable shipgirl was ever at his side, tensing a bit when Mariner got too close to Boimler.

Being Mariner, she got as close as she liked. Especially when Boimler agreed to her plan of action.

"Really you're in? Usually, it takes way more convincing," Mariner observed. Boimler sighed, looking over the vineyards with an expression of despair.

"I'll do anything to get away from these raisins. It's already gonna take me a month to get the smell out of my hair," he moaned.

Roon nodded, and wrapped an arm around Boimler's.

"And it will get him away from all of these man stealing skanks," Roon growled.

An attractive girl with a far too low cut top slinked up, holding a basket of grapes.

"Hey Bradward. Wanna test the sweetness of my bushel~?"

Roon stepped between the girl and Bradward with a deadly smile and dull eyes that promised nothing but pain.

"Allow me, Brad," the gynoid said, tasting one of the grapes from the basket, "just give it 43 more sun hours at 21 degrees brix."

She narrowed her eyes at the girl, and lowered her voice.

"Maybe you should go with it, so your bushel can tart itself too," she hissed.

"Overtopped sex doll," the girl muttered back, walking off. Mariner stared in disbelief at the entire exchange.

"Ooookay," Mariner managed, but before she could comment further, another attractive woman strutted up to Bradward's side with a honey sweet smile.

"Bradward, all these varietals are so confusing. Take me to the privacy of the pickery shed and explain them to me."

Roon, still smiling like Death herself, grasped the woman's shoulder and pulled her aside. The human woman winced.

"Let me explain it to you. It must be difficult for such a simple farm girl like you to understand something so complex. The red grapes go to the red bucket and white grapes go to the white one. Now hopefully I explained it simple enough," she switched to a mutter, "you empty headed bimbo."

"Why thank you, Roon," the woman bit back through gritted teeth. She stalked off. Mariner looked around, seeing the appreciative expression on Boimler's face and the irritated expression on Roon's.

"What the hell is going on?"

"These home wrecking harlots have been trying to steal my Bradward since we first got here," Roon growled, holding Boimler's arm tightly, "Until you came, I was three seconds from going full abyssal on them."

"Right," Mariner managed, "well, uh… Honestly, to clear my mom, we need logs for the inquiry-"

"Wait, so they just need our logs? I have logs," Boimler said.

"No, we need the official senior staff logs, not, like, what you had for lunch." Mariner said in reply.

"No, no, no. My logs are crazy detailed. Every night, I'd listen to the captain's and re-record them for my own reference."

"He does," said Roon with a pout. "Even as I lay in our bed, wearing only the skimpiest-"

"Yeah, the official stardates, systems, personnel. It's all in there, stored by my bunk," Boimler said, speaking over Roon quickly.

"I have it in my memory, too, Bradward," Roon said, eager to help.

"Oh my god, Boimler! That is sooo nerdy and soo clutch right now! Roon, can you play back the log from the day of the bombing?"

Roon just blinked innocently and looked at Boimler.

"Ahem. Roon, playback your captain's log from Stardate 58130.6. Engage it so."

"Oh, yes, my captain!" Roon said.

"Ugh... soooo uncomfortable right now!" Mariner said.

Roon began to speak in Boimler's voice. "The Cerritos is enroute to the Laapeerian system to assist the Archimedes in a first contact."

"Yes!" Mariner said. "That is exactly what we need to save Mom."

"Oh, and I think I heard Ransom-" Roon suddenly shifted to her own voice. "Oooh, Bradward, look at this... it's the mirror universe ensign needs a time out in the Pleasure Booth costume! Or do you prefer that I get out the horga'hn so we can do the ja-ma-ha-ron?" she sing-songed.

"Oh. My. God. What was that?! We can't play that!" Mariner cried. "Play another stardate!"

Roon just blinked her eyes seductively at Boimler.

"Roon," the ensign said authoritatively, "play back another stardate for your captain."

"Yes, sir!" Roon said, before speaking as Boimler again. "Roon and I almost got caught making out in the captain's chair again-"

"Augh! Another!" Mariner screamed.

"Oooh, the alien atmosphere as made me sooo horny, Bradward," Roon said in her recorded voice, before switching to Boimler's. "But you don't even breathe and insisted on giving me mouth to mouth the whole time in case I had a reaction!"

"That's IT!" Mariner said. "We're going to hijack the Cerritos!"

"What? Why?" Boimler said. "Roon's got all the logs in her memory."

"We're going to erase all other copies of your log before anyone else gets them," Mariner said. "Making those public will do nothing for Mom's case, and someone else might remember that you keep logs."

"In any event, now that you're with me, we need Rutherford," Mariner said.

"Right! Let's go get Rutherford!" Bradward and Roon cried. They ran off for the shuttle. A lone female voice shouted at him as he passed.

"Bradward, I'm soaked in juice and I need help getting naked!"

Roon snarled, glaring back over her shoulder.

"WHY DON'T CLEAN YOURSELF WITH THE HOSE AND THEN STRANGLE YOURSELF WITH IT, YOU OVERHEATED ALLEY CAT?!"

Written with jhosmer1 and nemo1986.