Star Trek Sim/ Star Trek RPG
USS Eagle, NCC 2185
LTjg Richards,ASEC, & Ensign Hanson, AENG
JOINT LOGS
Joint Logs by Myth and Nouri based on a mini sim
Title: PizzaPIED PIPER, Part Two
Setting: USS Eagle
Time: Immediately after Part One
Location: LTjg Richards' quarters
Leah pursed her lips as the bottlets poured out of hiding. This was a bad,
bad sign.
Hanson just sat there with a super smug look. He was holding all the aces
and he knew it.
"OK. So ... more than one bot," Leah muttered. Actually, she had to wonder
that they'd managed to find enough hiding spots ... it wasn't that big a
room.
"Uh, huh," he said underestatedly as the baby bots approached him and rubbed
adoringly on his boots and legs. "I believe you were going to apologize to
me . . .," he said as he reached down to scratch one.
Leah frowned, annoyed. She didn't like having the tables turned on her so
suddenly. "I am NOT apologizing." She took a deep breath. "But I will make
a deal. . . What'll it take to keep you quiet?" This was not at all how she'd
envisioned this working out. She'd hoped Hanson would have Mrs. Bob fixed
already and be gone. One robot wouldn't cause to much of a stir, but this
many definitely would.
~~Apparently, she needs a little more convincing,~~ he thought. He played
the "pipe" some more and the bottlets fell down. They also fell over
each other trying to scramble into their places. After that they tried to
move in unison. The effect was comical at first, looking more like an army
of teetering titanium toddlers than precisely programmed automatons.
An even smugger Hanson raised both eyebrows. "Apology," he demanded.
The babybots wobbled some more as they gathered and tried to get into what
appeared to be a formation.
She'd never been good at swallowing her pride. "That's not what you want,
or at least not ALL you want."
Hanson shrugged in his characteristically enigmatic and annoying manner.
"Not all I want, of course not," he smirked. He wasn't going to let all this
power over this bossy and demanding assistant security officer go to waste.
"Then ... what's the rest?" Leah asked trying to keep a semblance of calmness.
Her hands betrayed her actual feelings, curling into fists.
"Apology first," he demanded sullenly. He wasn't going to let her distract
him or get away with not apologizing.
The bots got into formation finally and stepped to the right.
Leah watched the robots. ~~How'd he get 'em to do that?~~ She usually had
to go three rounds just to get Bob to come out and 'talk'. She pulled her
attention back to the problem of the Ensign. "What else, Hanson?"
"First is first," he said. Hanson "played" some more and the bots stepped
to the left.
Leah tried another tactic and just glared at him. Maybe silence would force
his hand better than more arguing.
"Well, then, this concludes business," he said getting up. He was still holding
Mrs. Bob, the pipe, and some baby bots stuffed in his pockets besides this
great blackmail-her-forever card.
"Where are you taking her?!" Leah asked, an edge of panic creeping into her
voice. If anyone else saw them Unstoffe was bound to find out and so much
for second chances.
Hanson took a few steps toward the door. His robotic baby army followed him.
Leah quickly stepped between him and the door. "You can't take her with you,
Hanson - or the rest of them."
He deliberately gave her an annoying enigmatic shrug. "She still needs to
get fixed," he said, getting closer to the door.
Leah hoped he had an ego to appeal to. "Yes - HERE. I'm sure you can do it
- you're supposed to be good at this!"
Hanson got even closer, so his face was very, very close to hers. His metal
minions moved closer as well.
"I am very good at many things. Would you like me to demonstrate?" he said
with his face not more than two inches from hers.
Leah didn't move a nanometer. "Depends - reconsider my probable response
first, Ensign."
Hanson ran through the situation in his head like an equation. "First response
equals you apologize; unlikely so we leave..." he said.
Apologizing surely couldn't be that bad. "Okay! Okay - I apologize, all right?"
It wasn't quite sincere, but it was an apology of sorts. "Quit the marching
thing, already." It was getting a bit creepy.
It was hard for Hanson, but he tried to resist pushing Leah off the edge,
but his curiosity got the better of him as to what would happen next.
"Apology accepted. Next . . . terms . . . hmm," he said, milking it for all
it was worth.
~~Oh he is sooooo gonna get it...~~ Leah sighed. At least they were getting
down to business. "What terms?"
"I will no doubt need to think about that for several days," he said matter
of factly. "For now, you will treat me decently, and fetch me lots of pizza
and I will continue work on the Mrs.," he said starting to dictate terms.
That was one step too far. "Really. Several. Ya think that's a good idea,
do you?" Leah advanced toward him, rolling up her sleeves. He had it coming.
Hanson grew more thoughtful and did not notice the threat. He was too glib
to know how much danger he could be in. "Perhaps months of things you
can do . . ." he said to irritate her further as he postulated the possibilities.
Leah reached passed him to punch the button for the closet door to open.
Maybe he'd rethink things after spending a few hours locked in.
"Laundry. . ." he started to say as her arm went around him. Hanson looked
into her eyes. "Leah. . ." he began staring deeply into her enraged green
eyes, waiting for a blood vessel to burst.
Leah glared murder at him.
". . . did anyone ever tell you have more interesting eyes when you are angry??"
he joked, deliberately avoiding the word 'beautiful' but making sure she
caught the allusion to the old Earth cliche.
"Oh shut up already." She tried to push him into the closet, but he was too
quick.
"Well, it's late. It's time for us to go. You can keep a couple if you like,"
Hanson said magnanimously. He scooted under Richards arm and pushed door
button to leave.
Leah turned to grab his arm. "No you don't- !" He was NOT leaving with all
those bots.
Hanson looked deeply into her seething green eyes. "And why shouldn't I leave?"
he asked glibly again.
It might have been wiser to beg at that point, but Leah was not wise. "Fix
the darned robot already. HERE." Each word was a snarl filled with barely
restrained rage.
"She needs parts. You do recall that part of the conversation earlier . .
. don't you? It's right before you threaten me. . .," he nearly giggled and
mimicked her back in a falsetto, ". . . lieutenant."
Leah tried to reason with him, ignoring the impulse to bend him into a pretzel
... but only just barely. "Then get the parts and bring 'em back. But you
can't take her!" She pointed at the minibots on the floor around them. "You
want a pile of those in your quarters too? They replicate like no tomorrow!"
Never mind the havoc they made of one's career.
"I need her to make sure the fit is good and tight," he told a little bit
of the truth.
"Take measurements," Leah growled. Hanson was really pushing it now.
Hanson shrugged. He was going to call her bluff. "I can leave her broken,
but need to attach the parts with some delicate equipment. I'd explain the
details but . . .," he looks down at her, ". . . you wouldn't understand.
You security types. . ." Hanson shrugged again, obviously to mean that security
officers aren't very bright.
That was it. He'd crossed the line of no return. ~~@#$%^!!!!!!~~ Her voice
was amazingly calm. "Security types, hmm...? Y'know, you're right. I probably
wouldn't understand. But, I CAN do this!" Leah snarled the last word and
grabbed him by the shoulder and wrist. She twisted him around, simultaneously
propelling him into the wall next to the door face first. She wrenched the
whistle holding hand behind his back and up. "So ... you think you can get
those parts pretty soon, maybe?"
"Bad move," he said, suddenly serious.
Leah ignored the change in his attitude and wrenched the limb back further.
"I didn't hear that - tomorrow ya think?!"
He moved his wrenched arm, bringing it closer to his head in the very same
direction that Richards was moving it for the classic hold position. Then
he tossed the whistle, trapping it between his head-chin-shoulder and the
wall. He wriggled, causing the whistle to fall, caught it again and popped
it in his mouth and blew.
The bots responded and advanced upon his position.
~~Oh goodie ... more marching shenanigans?~~ she wondered, glancing down
at the bots. She pulled Hanson's arm back harder. Evidently, he was more
rubber than bone ... but even rubber breaks eventually.
Hanson just laughed and tried not to choke on pipe. "You'll break the arm
before it hurts," he explained and started laughing again. His body sagged
from laughter, changing his center of gravity. The extra forces of this movement
made breaking his arm more likely.
"Fine. Then I'll break the rest of you, too!" He'd pushed her too far - any
reservations she might have had were subsumed in the anticipation of seeing
this fool whimpering on the floor. She pulled his arm back even further.
Hanson still found it all very funny. "Can you send yourself to the brig?
Laundry for four months," he said goading her further. He laughed and laughed
again. His center of gravity dropped further towards the deck. Leah was dangerously
close to breaking his arm. He knew it, but he couldn't stop laughing.
"Two months." Leah haggled automatically. She pulled him back up, realizing
he might be using the laughter as an excuse to wriggle down and free.
"Two it is, if you let me go now. Otherwise, it'll be the brig for you...to
send yourself," he laughed, tempting fate and the irrate security officer
further.
Leah growled unintelligibly under her breath. Nevertheless she let him go
... after shoving him into the wall, hard. "Two it is."
CRACKLE!! KHURUNCH! Hanson's nose broke as he hit the bulkhead. The
rest of his face is bloodied and bruised. His nose bled profusely. Blood
streamed down his neck onto his shirt collar and jacket.
Leah didn't regret that for a minute. Hanson had been begging for a little
roughing up. She hit the button to open the door. "And the bots stay here."
She kept the satisfaction off her face through a supreme effort.
The door slid aside in response to the button and activity could be heard
coming from the passageway beyond. Hanson and the nabbed bots headed towards
the open door - Mrs. Bob and some of her brood. He didn't heed Richards words
and just kept moving.
~~Uh oh...~~ The sounds distracted Leah enough that Hanson and his bots could
get away.
Hanson looked out as he made his get away. ~~ He who runs away, leaves to
fight another day. Retreat!~~ he thought. Hanson tucked his jacket over Mrs.
Bob.
"Two now, four later, he yelled defiantly. Face bloodied and nose broken,
he still wasn't done with goading Richards, nor had he learned the folly
of it. ~~I'll fix her later, ~~ he thought. ((OOC: Does he mean Mrs. Bob
or Leah??))
Leah let him go for the moment, knowing it would be too suspicious if she
snagged him by the throat and dragged him back in. Besides, she still had
to get to Aren's quarters.
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