CSO Lieutenant Junior Grade Hamlet

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Knock knock it's the shrink!

Postby Vanessa Brinkman » Wed Jun 08, 2016 9:12 pm

(w/ Chief Counselor Robert Harlan)

Bob Harlan prowled the corridors, looking for a rather elusive officer. Who knew that a Klingon could hide so well? Maybe the science labs would provide an answer...

From behind the science lab doors, could be heard an array of crashing and screaming sounds, roaring and screeching; like something in the midst of a fever pitched battled, or of its own death throes.

Bob paused at the door and paled slightly, wishing that his wife wasn't busy working with the warp core, because she could scare anyone. He tugged down his unifprm tunic and made sure his pips were on full display, two full and a hollow, before stepping in.

"Um, hello? I assume no one can hear me, but could you stop doing whatever you're doing for a moment?"

Bob was beheld to an onslaught to the senses; strobing pink and red lights, music of ungodly volume and brutality, and a gut wrenching stench of what... who knew? Hamlet was stood at a console at the far end of the room, oblivious to anyone entering, by virture he was thrashing his head back and forth, 'singing' along with the music.

Bob sighed, and drew on the same ability that had let him handle green ensigns when he was just a lieutenant instructed to babysit them.

"Do you have a moment?" he bellowed, grateful that that particular talent worked wonders in any loud place.

The music and lighting dropped, not to a dramatic halt; but a slow fade out, to close out the bar. Hamlet turned around, utterly without shame at his muiscal choices, and gazed down at the him for a moment. "I take it yer not a fan of 20th century punk and grunge rock." He smiled.

"How can I help you..." He nodded his head side to side for a moment, weighing thoughts up. "Doctor... no... Counsellor."

Bob lifted an eyebrow, subconsciously emulating his wife, and replied, "Is that what that was? I'll stick to blues or jazz, thanks. At least they don't try to rattle one's internal organs. Anyway, my perfectly kept records indicate that you're just a bit overdue for a psych eval. Do you always evade anything to do with the medical department with such skill or is it just the shrinks? I promise I don't bite."

"Well..." He started with a schoolboy grin. "My wife is a doctor... and a Vulcan... so if there's a problem, she's usually the first to kick me to sickbay." He gestured to one of the stools, a he himself sat down. "l cud'ni imagine what you'd wanna talk about anyway."

"I'm also quite graceful, like a catburglar, but at evading the insides of a sickbay. And when awkward conversations happen, its because of a Scottish or Klingon idioms."

Bob snorted, "Trust me, I know a thing or two about having a Vulcan wife. When they say to do something, it had best get done in a timely fashion. At least it's just me here and not an actual doctor. I'm the one who chats, they're the ones with the scanners and the highly breakable materials. But really, you are overdue for a visit with the local shrink, so...," he sat and grinned, "Let's chat, shall we? No scanners or any of that stuff, just a friendly chat. I figure that being friendly gets a fella a lot further than pesky questions, don't you?"

"Mhm... we can if you want. And that was a question by the way." He spun around in his chair for a moment, before focussing again. "I assume what you want to talk about specifically is Sinul..." He looked back at the counsellor like he would an old student, when they were struggling to broach a subject.

"Lets no' mince around now, I'm on a roll..." He nodded at the console he was working at.

Bob chuckled, "Not entirely about Sinul... I just was going through my files and noted that it completely escaped me that half the crew is still awaiting psych evals from after the Tzenkethi War. Yeah, I know, it's been a while, but they've still gotta be done. Fortunately for everyone, a quick chat with me will clear that right away and leave time for... well, for whatever it is you're working on. So... tell me how you've been lately. Disorderly ensigns, the family, anything. Just know that I only report the general gist of things."

"I've been fine." He shrugged, not really sure what else to add. "I rarely have disorderly underlings; something about being 6'10 and Klingon, seems to dissuade them from dissent. Familywise; my wife if agreeable, the targ eats my shoes, and the children are children... loud, often unagreeable, and prone to infighting. Ahhh..." He sighed. "I wouldni change 'em for the world."

"As for Sinul and the Tzenkethi war... the Romulans made a weapon of mass destruction, I made a weapon of mass destruction." He seemed surprisingly glib about it. "Science can be used for negative and destructive ends, means you have to do as right as ya can when it happens."

"Well, like I said, I know about the Vulcan wife part. That, I can sympathize with. I can see how your skills at dissuading those pesky underlings are in perfect shape. If I were some snot-nosed ensign, I'd find any excuse to not be in here when sounds like," he gestured around," like what was just happening are heard."

"And from my experience, science is always a tricky field. Science made life-saving drugs, and it also made poisonous ones. It all depends on the kinda person you are. I think... I think that just by being in Starfleet, instead of the Orion Syndicate or some other unsavory group, you're telling yourself that you can do right and that you can help people, use that better side of science. If you didn't believe that in some form, I don't think you'd be here."

"Exactly." He replied simply, having got Bob to do all the heavy lifting, and smiled.

"My life's goin' well. Not overly stoked about shoreleave, but there we go."

"Not stoked about shore leave? Why not? Shore leave, especially on a beautiful planet, is something to be cherished. I mean, come on. It's a break from all this duty and stuff, it's time to relax and just kick back. I'll leave out the thinking part, that's more of a counselor thing than anything. Us counselors have too much time to think anyway. Too many stubborn people not wanting to drop by for visits. But really, why aren't you at least looking forward to it?" Bob steepled his hands and waited.

"I enjoy my job. And besides... I worked at the academy for nearly ten years, I spent enough time planetside. I'm more than happy to monitor the ship whilst everybody else buggers off, and keep doin what I'm doin now... it's important work."

Bob shrugged, "Fine by me. But you make sure that you stop down at least once. I've heard that the beaches are just divine. Besides, even though you were planetside from ten years, it doesn't mean that a change of view isn't in order."

"Bah... I grew up in Scotland, I didn't see the sun until I was 14. Its over rated." He laughed. "But, I'm quite content."

"Whatever you say," Bob shrugged and then laughed, "My wife is choosing to stay. I dunno what she's thinking, trusting me to not spoil the kid rotten on the planet, but still. Maybe you will get the chance to head down just once. If even to... study the sea life or something. I dunno, I just pulled that excuse out of my rear, so it probably sounded horrible. But, anyway, you have fun scienceing or whatever the proper term is. I'll probably be wishing I was on the ship at some point, likely when the kid starts demanding an ice cream cone or something."

"And we get to the crux. I have five children... and I dealt with 'em last time. It's her turn."

Bob looked horrified, "I am so sorry. I don't know how I could handle any more than one... wow. That must take impressive juggling abilities. I'll just stick with my one kid and hope that the most I wind up with is one more."

"Ya find a way ta manage. Or they'll manage you." He chuckled. "But I did always want a large family, so I canni complain, brought it on myself."

"Well then, I'd say you succeeded," Bob replied, "And I'd think that between a Vulcan and a Klingon, they should at least behave, but you never know. I'd certainly wind up being managed myself with that many youngsters. I babysitted my three cousins once and that was quite the nightmare. Now that I think about it, I might've run off if there were five of 'em. But, to each his own, I guess."

"You'd think, but they are Klingon-Vulcan; which means they've got some spirit and fire in their hearts when they need it. The boys are going through puberty at the moment, so they are fighting some serious urges; of which even their Vulcan blood can't quite control. The girls are much more in control, but Tarya the littlest is only five, so give it time."

"I think this is the time for me to be grateful my daughter's only eight. Though in a few years... well, I'll have to hope she takes more after her mother... oh boy. I remember me as a teenager, but three Vulcan-Klingon boys? I wish you the best of luck with that," Bob chuckled, "I get the feeling that a rollarcoaster is inbound on that front, if it isn't here already."

"Only the two boys, that's enough... it'd be hard to referee a triangle match when the straight matchups now are to the death." He reminisced about his own teen years for a moment. "And they won't be like me their age... no pubs nearby."

"Either way, one boy at a time would be quite enough, in my opinion. Besides, it might all pass quickly, I dunno. My skills as a counselor are better than my parenting skills, which is likely why my daughter takes after her mother," Bob grinned, leaning back a bit.

"Technically yes, it will pass, but it will come back again. My wife has the extraordinary misfortune of being married to me, and I don't agree with the Vulcan prudishness on certain matters. Which is something that's coming up soon on the parental agenda."

"Well, I wish you the best of luck with that. Like I said, I'll stick with my one kid. I think I'll leave the veritable menagerie to you for now."

"That's probably for the best. Perhaps your daughter would enjoy spending time with mine; Sames is about her age, and I know Miral and Tarya enjoy new company."

"If they can convince her to play with actual toys and not the same logic puzzle over and over again, I say absolutely. She's absolutely addicted to this puzzle that I don't know the name of and it's worrying me a bit. You'd think that a few weeks would be fine, but no. It's been six months. Six. Months. Being challenged to a puzzle constantly gets boring and tedious after a while, y'know, no matter how much you love the challenger," Bob shrugged, musing on how well this was going. His methodology was proven yet again.

"Well, they too like their logic puzzles, but I wager they can get her away from them for a bit. Knowing my girls, they'll introduce her to their 'experiments', because I've given them free reign over what they wanna learn about... they're having fun with chemistry at the moment." He chuckled, as that sounded scarier than he intended. "But they still have actual toys, regardless of what they claim. My oldest girl Miral, she sleeps with her three eyed teddy bear still, Sames hides a dollhouse under her bed and everything is a toy to Tarya is she imagines hard enough; especially Mr Gallop."

Bob offered a mock shudder, "Knowing Shayla, she'd probably go straight for Mister Gallop. She has a thing for animals, no matter the fact that if they weren't trained, they'd likely try to eat her. Chemistry might distract her from that puzzle long enough for me to replace it with something else... heh. Wonder what she'd say about a deck of cards or something."

"Well, luckily he's very fond of children. If she has treats, he'll roll over to her every demand. Tarya rides on his back, like he's a horse; fortunately he's hardy and quite literally pig headed." Hamlet leant forward a bit. "And some advice; if you're tired of you child's newest fad, the trick is to mysteriously find their first love from the back of the cupboard, because they lost it then got distracted looking. Works like a charm, and you get to be the hero for finding their 'very bestest favourite' toy."

"But I'll ask the girls, they're unlikely to say no. They took care of an emotional teenager once, were determined she was gonna be their new big sister, so I'm sure they'll get along fine."

Bob laughed, "Sounds like T'Sara's stories about her sehlat when she was a kid. And, unfortunately, Shayla's favorite bear got lost in our move between the Cumberlane and here, so that'd be pulling a miracle out of somewhere. I might be able to get the replicator pattern though... an excellent idea. I'll have to look into that."

"Right!" Hamlet stood up. "Its been nice chattin' to ya and I will make the necessary arrangements with the children..." He said with a smile. "But I'm sure you have a number of other officers to talk to, and the mysteries of the Tkon are not gonna solve themselves."

"The Tkon, huh? Nice. Have fun with that," Bob stood and nodded slightly, "Fortunately, I've still got plenty of time to chat with those other officers. I dunno how many are gonna pull runners, but if it gets too bad, I might see if I can booby trap my door. Well, I'll leave you to the mysteries of the Tkon."

"Oh, aye. Ever since contact with Portal Nine, I have worked on the repository of knowledge; especially that of their expertise with subspace. I am certain, if I can just find the correct radix and topoi, I can understand some of their equations. But as it stands, I have to create a whole new branch of mathematics from scratch; just as even smarter people are undoubtedly doing right now at headquarters."

"But, if we can understand it... it will open up new era in space exploration. Even with the Quantum Slipstream, it'd take months, maybe a year or so to get to the far end of the Delta Quadrant. With the knowledge of the Tkon, one day, the four corners of the galaxy wont be so far away." Hamlet cleared his throat, realising he was ranting, and nodded.

"I... look forward to that, despite the fact that most of that went completely over my head. Well, I should leave you to your work and see about bothering some of the other folks onboard. Until next time, Lieutenant!" Bob waggled his fingers as he headed out, already plotting his next trap... well, after he picked Shayla up from her tutor. He was already five minutes late, any more would risk T'Sara's annoyance.

Hamlet saw Bob out, laughing about the next victim on his list, before going back to his console. He sat back down and relaxed, ramping the music up to eleven and hitting the play button; something more melodic this time, yet still guttural. He rocked his head to the beat, as an array of numbers and symbols scrolled passed on the screen.
SCI Lt. T'Lira, USS Atlantis
CMO Lt. Sarissa t'Kaveth, USS Sentinel
CTO Lt. Noemi Idaris, Sigma Rho

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Re: CSO Lieutenant Junior Grade Hamlet

Postby Andrew Rice » Thu Jun 23, 2016 10:57 pm

Vincit Omnia Veritas - The truth conquers all things.

TAC - LtJG. Soule Douglas - USS Hyperion NCC-77989 / S.T.A.R. ECS
ENG - Lt. Ilaihr - USS Atlantis NCC-1021-D
CSO - LtJG. Hamlet - USS Sentinel NCC-79088


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