A big thanks to all readers, and especially to everyone who's reviewed, liked, followed, etc. both Tomorrow's Possible and the one-shot First Time. Those plot bunnies are insidious and unpredictable - there will probably be more spin-off one-shots in the next dozen or so chapters it will take to conclude this story.
For no particular reason, this chapter is very dense in terms of references. Besides obvious KP references, I count at least 10, PM me if you think you've found them all.
Chapter 5 is dedicated to the madmen who produced Menu number 4, had a good look at it, tasted it, and said "yup, time to ship this thing!". May we all be so bold in our deliverables.
Chapter 5: Athena's Pawn
The time is 17:00 hours.
Kim was awoken by the customary alarm clock – the computer's monotone announcement. No doubt a small team of behavioral experts had spent time and research hours perfecting the message to maximize its impact on even a heavy sleeper, but Kim's routine seemed far more useful in allowing her to get up on time. On this day, however, she silently cursed the alarm.
Damn it. Just as things were getting interesting.
It was a minor annoyance and quickly overcome by the prospect of another interesting day. For whatever reason, the night shift tended to be a quiet one. Maybe non-Federation aliens chose to align themselves with Earth's standard 24-hour day – Earth was the political and cultural center of the United Federation of Planets. Earth's lingua franca was adopted as Federation Standard. The Federation Council and the President were both housed on Earth. The Anthem of the UFP was composed in the style of Earth music (For a while, the final movement of Beethoven's 9th Symphony had been favored, but Schiller's lyrics as used by Beethoven, though not included in the anthem as proposed, seemed to cause discomfort everywhere. Vulcans found the appeals to emotion distasteful. Andorians felt that referencing only two genders was discriminatory. The Tellarites considered the lyrics too sappy.) So maybe the Klingons had adopted standard Federation business hours (09:00 to 17:00). Whatever the reason, most night shifts were boring. Those that were not often were infuriating.
But Kim was excited, to the point of checking her calendar immediately after getting up.
Pretty empty day today, just a follow-up briefing about the Ron sitch at 20:30.
Kim closed the calendar and got started on her 'morning' routine.
'Ron sitch'… That sounds too unprofessional. The Rio Grande Incident? Corny holonovel. Stowaway on the Rio Grande? Too silly, she thought while brushing her teeth. Maybe 'Stoppable Situation' will do fine…
She made her way back to her computer terminal, Kim's inbox had the usual assortment of reports and updates. The classified daily briefing on the status of the war effort was, as usual, grim. Starbase 126 had repelled another Klingon raid, but casualties were high and two Miranda-class ships had sustained considerable damage. At least three freighter convoys had been attacked. Task Force 23, with the Yamato as its flagship, had fallen into an ambush on a strike mission against a Klingon outpost – no major damage, but what should have been an easy victory turned into an embarrassing failure. This was all in stark contrast to public announcements, which always downplayed losses.
'All Klingon ships were destroyed, but debris from the battle impacted and damaged Starbase 67.' Funny how this 'debris' caused massive explosions that rendered the station uninhabitable.
Even at her small scale, the Federation's poor performance was evident. The Enterprise had spent the past few months doing ferry duty instead of patrolling, never mind attacking. The troops whose replacements were being ferried had to have ended up somewhere, and that 'somewhere' was not any closer to the Klingon homeworld. Enterprise's medical facilities had been hastily expanded to accommodate hundreds more medical evacuations per trip.
This is unsustainable.
Kim closed the report and opened her next message – an update from Engineering on the Rio Grande. The ship was indeed in excellent shape, but its logs revealed a very hard life: Several trips to the Gamma Quadrant, clearly using the Bajoran Wormhole; several battles; at least one bombing by the Orion Syndicate… Some of these details correlated with elements of Ron's story. There were sensor and visual logs of Ron's little escapade, which illustrated the immense scale of the statue he had described. There was no indication of tampering with the sensors or the ship's computers.
A third relevant message had been CCed to Kim:
'Commander Riker,
'I wish to formally extend my thanks to our guest, Mr. Stoppable, for his valuable input in the ship's galley. Had I known we had a trained chef aboard, I would have extended an invitation myself for him to visit our facilities.
'I have no doubt that you understand the importance of saving energy, and the impact that reducing our reliance on replicated food can have. One of the more frequent complaints from both Starfleet and MACO personnel is that our offerings of fresh food are very limited, repetitive, and boring. Of course, we understand that training courses for Food Preparation Specialists, beyond the Basic Health and Safety Course, take a lower priority relative to many other training needs for the thousands of personnel on board. As such, I would like to request your permission to invite Mr. Stoppable to continue tutoring my team for as long as he is with us.
'Feedback from today's 13:00 meal service has been extremely positive. The 15:00 meal service saw a record number of patrons, nearly 200, up from our typical figure of 100-110. I'm hearing rumors that the 17:00 meal service may reach 300 patrons. I'm sure LT CMDR LaForge can provide you with an estimate of the impact this has on the ship's energy consumption.
'Please be aware that I have credited Mr. Stoppable with additional replicator ration points for his services to my team. These were transferred from the galley's budget and offset by savings realized in the preparation of the two meal services for which he already assisted us.
'Please also extend our thanks to LT Possible for facilitating Mr. Possible's visit to our galley.
'Best Regards,
CPO Carl GILLESPIE
Food Preparation Specialist'
Kim couldn't help but roll her eyes. Why do OR-5s always write such pretentious messages? At least I'm getting a good word put in on my behalf… Gotta thank Ron for that one.
27 additional emails vied for Kim's attention, none of them merited more than a quick glance. Reminders of upcoming performance reviews (Yes, I know, the interviews have been scheduled), reports about maintenance conducted on the ship's internal sensors (No, I don't particularly object to the replacement of a faulty sensor module on deck 12 during the next shift), calibration reports for the number 3 phaser array (All parameters within specified ranges)…
The time is 18:00 hours, the computer announced.
Kim stretched in her seat; it was time to get ready. Though Starfleet's standards were fairly rigorous when it came to uniforms, she couldn't help but pay extra attention to the little details. Was it a renewed sense of purpose, a mystery to solve? That must be it, why else would I be excited?
It was 18:53. Kim stood in front of Ron's quarters and rang the door chime. After a second or two, the door opened to allow her to enter. The lights had been dimmed. Most guests don't give a damn and just turn the lights all the way up.
"Hey, KP, you're early!"
As Ron moved into view, Kim noticed that he had changed. Instead of the baggy clothes he had on early in the day, he now wore an old-style shirt in plain white. His pants seemed less practical, missing the prominent pockets Rufus could fit in. Despite the archaic nature of the outfit, it suited him.
"Hi, Ron…" Kim said and looked him up and down again. "So, I guess back in your day you would have worn a necktie," she teased.
"Well, sometimes. I was 15 when I ended up in the future, it's not like I was a politician or big-shot businessman. You're looking good, too, the uniform suits you."
"Thanks, it's a definite improvement over the last model," she said with a smile.
"Well," Ron said extending his arm, "come on in and have a seat."
She did so and noticed that Ron had put quite some effort into setting the table. The plain glass surface was covered by a tablecloth and the tableware was neatly laid out for a three-course meal.
"Ron, you do realize my shift starts in an hour?"
"Don't worry, Kim, all the food's ready," he replied as he approached Kim with a container in hand. "Vegetable soup," he announced while filling Kim's plate. "Can you believe the galley crew couldn't even figure this out? They were going to throw out a bunch of vegetables because they had no idea what to do with them." He continued to pour his own soup.
"I heard you did a spankin' job in the galley," Kim said as Ron sat down.
"I'd never seen so much excitement for a cooking lesson. Just gave them a couple of pointers and left them a stack of recipes."
"Well, whatever you did, the head chef, scare quotes very much intended, sent Commander Riker a message praising you and thanking me for facilitating. Which is funny, because I was asleep."
"I may have put special emphasis on your help…"
"Hmm, thanks for that. And thanks for inviting me, this soup is great!"
"Glad to hear it. Hey, if you pass me your plate, I can go get your main course."
"Please and thank you." Kim lifted her soup slightly and handed Ron the plate. As she finished her soup, she looked around the quarters. Rufus was sleeping away atop a pillow that sat on the desk.
"Don't worry about him, he's eaten already. Otherwise, he'd be here trying to steal our food." Ron traded Kim's empty soup plate for one that held the main course.
Kim's eyes flew open. It wasn't just the fantastic look, the food smelled magnificent. Years of heavy reliance on ration packs and basic replicator meals had left her unaccustomed to fresh meals. Before her now sat the juiciest steak she could remember, served with a baked potato and an assortment of vegetables.
"How on Earth did you…"
"Don't worry, it's replicated. But I replicated real meat, instead of generic meat replacement product. Of course I had to cook it, but that's easy."
"But this must have cost you a fortune in replicator credits!"
"It's fine, sounds like I'll be earning more tomorrow. Besides, if I can't flex my mad kitchen skills to my best friend, what's the point?" Ron looked proud of the meal. Though he tried to act at least somewhat nonchalantly, it was obvious that he had invested real time and effort, and now eagerly awaited the verdict. He did not have to wait long.
"Wow, this is delicious, no wonder the galley crew went nuts."
Ron kept smiling, but it was clear he had let go of some tension. "Yeah, I'm used to the replicated stuff being okay – free energy for all and stuff, so just replicate whatever – but the real deal always was better. It's also great for trading favors with folks… Or even working in a place where information flows, you'd be amazed how much you hear while working in a restaurant's kitchen."
"Trying to find the Time Monkey?" Kim offered.
Ron's smile faded. "That too… But mostly, I wanted to find you, Kim. It… was a rough dozen years. Even worse than Norway."
Kim did not know what to say, and by this point she was beginning to fidget.
"I mean, not you, strictly, my friend Kim..." It was clear from Ron's face that he did not know how to deal with the situation. "Who's you, but in the past? Sorry, this is all a major headache..."
Kim forced a small smile. "No, I get it. I haven't really gotten to know you yet, but I feel at ease. More so than I have in a very long time." Since the incident, really…
"Oh, I know that look," Ron answered, "did something bad happen with Monkey-boy?"
"Monkey-boy…?"
Ron's expression was very serious, in a no-nonsense kind of way, something Kim hadn't seen yet. "Josh Mankey."
The name brought back bad memories that had not been buried as much as they had been flimsily papered over. "How did…"
"Gut feeling. My Kim went crazy for Josh Mankey, even locked me in a janitor's closet by accident, once." Ron's poker face was poor, and he clearly wasn't too happy with his own memories. He continued after a short pause, "I just want you to know that I'll always be here if you want to talk about anything. I don't know what happened, but I never did trust the guy, too close to 'Monkey' for comfort, ya know?"
"Thanks…" Kim had not known what to expect, but she knew that this was not it. She tried to move past the tension that was building up. "So, what else do you know about me?"
"Well," Ron said in a slightly overly dramatic tone, "Your brothers Jim and Tim were serious menace – I hope they've grown up to be productive members of society, it sure looks like their destructive tendencies can be put to good use around here."
Kim was speechless, though she opened her mouth, she did not know what to say.
"I'll take that as 'still dangerous'. Anyway, your mother looks a lot like you, but slightly taller and with blue eyes, neurosurgeon. Your dad was a rocket scientist, so I guess he does starship design around here."
Kim finally mustered a few words. "Yeah, he's the lead designer of the ship you arrived in."
"Coolio!" Ron answered.
"Yeah, he and his team all added their signatures to the molding for the main instrument panels, on the underside..." Kim let her sentence trail off unfinished as she realized she could open a new avenue of investigation. She tapped her combadge, "Possible to Commander LaForge."
"LaForge here," the reply came, "what can I do for you, Lieutenant?"
She wasted no time. "Commander, I just remembered that the design team's signatures should be engraved on the bottom of the main instrument panel of the runabout. Can you take a picture that we can compare against Utopia Planitia's?"
The Chief Engineer's disembodied voice answered, "That's good thinking Lieutenant, I'll let you know when we have something."
Redirecting her gaze from whatever trinket it was on during the call, Kim saw that Ron was smiling again and became aware of how she had rudely interrupted their dinner.
"Sorry, I'm… rusty on my table manners. It's been a while since I've had a real meal, especially with company…"
"No problemo, Kim. So, you're in charge of security for the night shift?" Ron had finished his meal and seemed to try for some more polite conversation. "Is that, like, any easier than the other shifts?"
"I am," Kim answered, "but I occasionally do other shifts. Gamma shift is a bit quieter, but I get the pleasure of dealing with bar brawls."
"Hey, beats being the poor dude who has to clean up the holodecks' organic matter filters." As Kim finished her meal, Ron continued, "Ready for dessert? I made apple pie, and I had enough replicator credits leftover for ice cream."
"How can I say no to that?"
As if on cue, her combadge sounded, "Riker to Lieutenant Possible."
Kim immediately answered, "Possible here, Sir," while gesturing apologetically towards Ron.
"Lieutenant, the captain would like to have Mr. Stoppable at our meeting at 20:30, can you see to that?"
"Consider it done, Sir."
"One more thing Lieutenant, the captain would like to talk to you privately before the meeting. Report to his ready room after dropping off Mr. Stoppable at the beginning of your shift."
"Acknowledged, Commander," Kim replied as Ron placed her dessert on the table, "Possible out." Well, that's convenient.
"Guess I should put on a tie after all," Ron said to Kim's confusion. "You know, meeting with the senior officers and all that, very formal."
As they worked their way through their dessert, Kim teased, "Is there ever a normal interaction with you?"
Ron's answer was immediate and triumphant: "Never!"
Kim couldn't help but chuckle. "You're weird, but you're okay, Ron."
Ron did not answer, instead he seemed to reflect on Kim's words.
"Thanks for dinner," she continued after eating the last crumbs of her meal, "it was awesome. Your Kim was a lucky girl…" Kim hesitated for a second, then asked "Hey, uhm, can I count on you for lunch, after my shift? I can only offer rations, but –"
"Hey, I used to put up with cafeteria mystery meat. And meat cakes, I really hate those things. Those rations of yours are a fine dining experience in comparison." Ron's expression turned serious, and he asked, "Uhm, there's no risk of getting a cheese and vegetable omelet, right?"
Kim reassured him, "Not anymore. Vomelet?"
"Vomelet." Ron's answer was simple, but well-understood.
"Computer, what's the time?"
The time is 19:49, came the computer's monotone response.
"In that case, it's time to get going, Ron."
They left Ron's quarters and made their way to the turbolift. After a short wait, they arrived on the bridge, which felt almost claustrophobic with the extra personnel due to the shift change. Kim led Ron to the Tactical station, where Commander Riker was talking to the head of Security for Beta Shift.
"Commander Riker," Kim said to draw his attention, whereupon he turned to face Kim and Ron. "Sir, I thought you might want to meet Ron Stoppable, our most recent guest…"
"Of course," he answered, "Welcome aboard, Mr. Stoppable. I hear you left quite an impression on our galley crew."
"Thank you, Commander. It's really not a big deal, I'm just another soul navigating the great material continuum."
Riker smiled and nodded, he clearly understood what Ron was trying to say. Good, because that made no sense to me…
"We'll talk later, Mr. Stoppable," Riker concluded, moving away to talk to the operations officer.
Kim continued with the introductions. "Well, that was Commander Riker, the first officer. This is Yori, my roommate and the Beta shift head of Security. Yori, this is Ron Stoppable, the mystery guest."
Curiously, Ron bowed rather than extend his hand for a handshake. Yori returned the bow.
"Hai," she said, "yours is a most interesting story. I too have studied the ninja arts and would appreciate the opportunity to explore the topic with you."
Although the topic was superficially interesting to Kim, she was paying a lot more attention to the exploration Ron was carrying out. He's totally checking her out! It took some concentration for Kim to not drop her jaw in shock.
"Sorry to interrupt," she said with a bit of an edge to her voice, "but I need to go talk to the captain. Ron, if you'll follow me…"
"Oh, sorry Kim, of course," he said, rubbing the back of his neck as he followed her to the observation lounge, positioned behind the bridge.
She pulled out a chair close to the far end of the observation lounge table. "Take a seat, the meeting should start soon. In the meantime, enjoy the view."
He sat down and Kim walked back towards the door. Before she reached it, Ron called out: "You're right, KP, the view here is better."
Kim turned around. Ron was looking in her direction. His smile took a bit of the edge off, and Kim relaxed somewhat. Calm down, you're so worked up you don't even remember telling him the view was better in the observation lounge. She walked out onto the bridge and stood in front of the ready room door, pressing the door chime.
Yes, Starfleet's head of PR is one D. Peskov, how did you know?