Petty Please?

Posted on Sat Mar 25th, 2023 @ 6:20pm by Siany ZyMach & Master Warrant Officer Trenton Mayhew

Mission: Season 1 Interlude II (E5.5)
Location: Overwatch Station
Timeline: ID 4

Siany was bored.

She didn't have access to much on this station, which was fine with her. All she really needed was her room and her bar. But that made for dull free time. She had already crocheted a couple of sweaters and read too many books for her taste. She had her cello, of course, but even that was getting boring. She'd had a walk about in all the areas she was allowed to go to. There had to be a holodeck or gym or something she could visit. She pulled up a map of the station and searched for a gym. There was one, but it was restricted access. A gym? Restricted? That seemed really weird. Maybe there was someone she could talk to to get access. She tapped the gym on the map and it very helpfully told her who to see.

Of course. Trenton Mayhew.

"How important is it?" she asked herself. She could always play the cello for hours on end. Or do pushups in her room.

No. She would have to talk to Mayhew. She didn't suppose she had authorization to go to his office and anyway, just turning up was rude. So instead, she sent a request for a meeting and hoped he would be okay with that.

In the meantime, she decided to rearrange her bar. It was better than nothing and sort of a workout. Lifting chairs and tables wasn't easy, after all.

But two hours later, she had still heard nothing. She had expected a notification of a meeting time, but nothing had come through yet. So, she checked her request to find a large red “DENIED” next to it.

“That arrogant-“ she started, but stopped herself and stamped a foot angrily. Well, then, she was just going to barge into his office. Before leaving the bar, she activated the holographic bartender in case anybody came by and stormed out the door.

To her surprise, there was an all-access entrance to Mathew’s office. Well, all access meaning everybody could approach. She still had to ring the chime and wait to be admitted. Which, if she hadn’t been so irritated, she would have admitted was more than fair. But as it was, she simply jammed her thumb onto the chime and waited with arms crossed.

An armed private approached Siany from behind and cleared his throat. "Ma'am, you are ordered to step away from the office of the Master-at-Arms and acting Station Commandant, ma'am."

Siany’s eyes narrowed almost menacingly. “Are you kidding me?” she said. “He’s so against talking to me he sends some- some lackey to tell me to go away? Fine. If he wants it that way, he’s no longer welcome in my bar!” And she turned and flounced off to make sure her doors would not open when his bio sign was present.

Security blast doors slammed shut in front of her, cutting Siany off from the rest of the corridor. A click from the overhead speaker followed by Mayhew's digitized voice suggested a direct connection from the security office. "Are you threatening me, Miss ZyMach?"

Siany crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. Sure. Now that he wasn’t allowed in her bar anymore, now he wanted to talk. “Nope,” she said. “I’m promising.”

The blast doors didn't budge, but the doors to his office slid open. It was as close to an invitation as she was going to get.

“Hmpf!” replied Siany, but she crossed to the doors anyway. She had been tempted to refuse, but something told her he’d only have his lackey bring her in by force or something. She stopped just inside the doors, arms still crossed. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d want to set foot in my bar ever again after the last time, anyway,” she said far more calmly than she felt.

Mayhew looked up from his desk as if he had not been paying attention. At the sight of Siany with her little arms crossed, he fought a smirk and dropped his PADD onto his desk loud enough to make a loud thwack. "Just so you know, I am the acting commandant of the station right now. There is nowhere that I cannot access. If I wanted to take a piss, you couldn't keep me out of your commode." Nodding at the PADD, he said, "Now the only reason we're having this conversation is for me to ascertain why you would put your world's treaty in jeopardy with petty threats of trying to subvert the operational security and readiness of this facility." He arched an eyebrow at her that conveyed how seriously he was taking her at the moment, which was to say very little.

At that, Siany only grinned enigmatically. “What treaty?” she asked as if it were the most boring question ever asked.

"The one that required a brand new clearance authorization for a civilian to be present and to have access to MT-9496, whatever the hell that is." Mayhew leaned back in his chair, looking slightly more amused but less patient all at once. "So are you going to tell me what you want or am I going to have Private Jenkins escort you back to your authorized area with that little mystery unsolved?"

She decided to forego explaining that the treaty wasn’t technically a treaty, that she was the sole caretaker of MT-9496 and had authorization to remove it from the station if she felt it was being misused or in danger, and that she was an expatriate of Yegorah and a citizen of the Federation. None of it actually mattered anyway and would probably make his head explode. Besides, it was unimportant. And possibly also classified information . “I want access to the gym,” she said after only a few seconds’ hesitation.

Staring at her with inscrutable eyes for a few seconds, Mayhew at length said, "No. The gym is within this station's security apparatus and I will not have you gallivanting around there like some tourist. My Marines don't need an unsupervised civie gumming up their training environment either. Is that all?"

It figured. He was gatekeeping. Gatekeeping a gym, no less. Ugh. Why would she expect less. “Why would the gym be contained in the marine’s area?” she asked. “Where do the officers work out?”

"Essential personnel are cleared for authorized access to the gym," Mayhew said. "Everyone else is free to do as they please within the areas authorized for them. Marines have required PT standards, but Fleeters have been known to schedule workout and training sessions with the Master-at-Arms." He gave a terse, flat smile. "That would be me."

I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a rusty poker, she thought to herself. She had plenty of credits- part of the agreement involving the Mea Taulima- and could probably replicate enough free weights to open her own gym. It was just a lot less fun to work out alone. “What about support staff?” she asked. “Or do you prefer the janitors to be flabby?”

"You've seen the Borg drones milling about, I'm sure," Mayhew said with a nod toward the door and the corridors beyond. "They're the closest we've got to custodial personnel and they don't get flabby. Overwatch Station's primary systems are fully automated with a skeleton crew on standby to assume control and execute manual performance in the event of system failures." He cracked a smile. "If you want to work out with a sweaty janitor, I'm sure the holodeck can arrange that for you."

“Do I even have permission to USE the holodeck?” she asked, almost snapped. “That would be a surprise,” she muttered as an aside.

No," Mayhew said, "but if you apply for holodeck authorization, I can see about granting it. Is there anything else or may I resume my duties as master-at-arms and acting commandant?"

Siany gave him a withering look which changed suddenly to sly and conspiratorial. “No,” she answered. “I have work to do, too, actually. I’ll leave you to it.”

"Well..." Mayhew gave an indifferent shrug. "Bye." He returned to his work and trusted the armed guards to see her out.

But they needn’t have bothered; Siany was happy to leave. She had some measuring to do.