Quantum of Soaking

Posted on Sun Jan 6th, 2013 @ 8:49pm by Lieutenant Jonathan "Jack" Mantell & Lieutenant Three of Seven

Mission: Funzone
Location: Deck 3, Section 2
Timeline: MD1 1015 hours

One benefit to being a department chief was that anyone else in the department could be called on as relief at any time. By 1000 hours, Jack was feeling the effects of being called up to the bridge at such an early hour creeping up on him. Calling on Ensign Mysh'at to relieve him seemed the only appropriate move so that the boy could take a quick bath and catch up on his sleep. As Jack stepped into the privacy of his quarters, so he dispensed with the modesty that was expected of him outside those doors. Trimming his attire down to the closest layer, the boy stepped into the bathroom.

Only it wasn't a bathroom. Bathrooms had bathtubs. The Miran youth had put up with the monstrosity known as a 'sonic shower' on the Seleya in the interest of space, and the olfactory sanity of his shipmates. Here on the Sovereign-class Arizona, however, there were no such limitations, and the absence of such a necessity could not be overlooked. There was simply no substitute to the clean feeling as having just taken a bath. Besides, bubble showers just weren't quite as satisfying, something that Jack could speak from experience on.

Wandering back into the other room, the boy retrieved his combadge from the misshapen pile of his uniform on the floor. Had this been the Seleya crew, Jack might have just started the task himself. On a new ship, however, around many new crewmembers, the Miran wasn't certain how the Chief Engineer would react to his initiative. Then again, how scathing can a Borg's wrath be? the boy quipped to himself. Grinning and shaking his head, Jack brought the badge to be level with his chin, and tapped it once. "Lieutenant Mantell to Engineering. Uhh, yeah, is there anybody available that can install a bathtub for me?"

* * * * *

The admiral had given the drone more work that Three had originally envisioned. While the drone still did not completely comprehend the totality of this assignment, the subject matter had proven a great insight into just how much that Three did not know what he did not know. Section 31 for example. Upon query, the computer terminal had become locked by an automatic security protocol which operated above Three's clearance level. The Borg were aware of some Federation state secrets - Omega for one, a particle that Three had been designed to search for - but this 'Section 31' was not a topic that Three was aware of, even with partial memories of Federation citizens and Starfleet agents being assimilated.

It made the drone curious as to alternative means of conducting the research, but such was in vein with the remaining topical index he had stemming from the discussion with Cowell. That being, clandestine operations.

In particular, Admiral Cowell had referenced a Terran literary figure of substantive cultural development. 'James Bond,' originally a character proprietary to the novels of British author Ian Fleming and continuing into various media. He had been represented in no less than fifty theatrical productions, twelve holographic reproductions, re-printed into several dozen different Federation languages, and was considered one of the influences behind the modern Dixon Hill series of holographic recreational adventures. Bond was an agent of a heavily romanticized MI-6, a real department of the then British government that had engaged in espionage and counter-terrorism in the nationalistic interests of the British government's foreign interests.

Bond operated through various channels, primary of which was basic human social engineering, occasionally assisted by technological devices which varied in plausibility depending on author or screen writer.

Regarding Section 31, then, the place to begin would be to explore the human relationships. The admiral had stated that Colonel DeVries had a personal connection. Perhaps by focusing on further research regarding the colonel, Three would divulge further information about the Section.

Regarding the mission, Three would need a diverse group of individuals capable of acting through subtlety and subterfuge. A quick mental review of the crew manifest provided the drone with the most likely candidates.

Lieutenant Tre Boid was Betazoid. Telepathic abilities would allow Boid to screen conversations for points of deception, as well as potentially search for the missing individuals by listening for their 'thoughts.' This made the counselor the most likely choice.

Lieutenant Sngarlassanarn was a medical doctor. Starfleet medical personnel received specialized training in locating humanoid lifesigns, a likely necessity with away missions or first responders to a shuttlecraft or starship emergency.

Lieutenant Jonathan Mantell was Miran. His appearance, like Three's, would cause individuals to respond to him socially as though he were a literal child. Unlike Three, Lieutenant Mantell was precocious enough that this illusion would be sustainable, thus he would likely be able to work in the open with many avoiding taking note of him.

Ensign Soraya Xel was a Starfleet operations officer with extensive training in computer systems design, thus allowing her to conduct an invasive investigation of the FunZone's computer and security networks. Lieutenant Junior Grade Elizabeth Marion was another candidate, but the fact that Xel was also host to the Trill Xel symbiote meant that the ensign had superior experience in which to adapt to possible scenarios involved with clandestine operations in the field.

Ensign Adam Sheen was the Arizona's current chief of security. The logical choice to lead the investigation in the field, as well as potentially respond to physical efforts at stopping the investigation. Simply put, Three would need Sheen out there so to potentially draw attention away from the more subtle applications of Boid, Xel, or Mantell.

While that, hypothetically, was an acceptable allocation of resources, Three would now need to contact these members of his team.

"Lieutenant Mantell to Engineering."

Looking up from where he had been working in the alcove-like niche carved in the side of the engineering bay, the drone contemplated the likelihood of Mantell contacting engineering at that exact moment.

Dungeon Master was hunched over the pool table, a half-eaten cornbeef sandwich in his hands. Licking at the mustard on his fingers, the slovenly petty officer answered, "Frost here, what can we do for you, Lieutenant?"

"Uhh, yeah, is there anybody available that can install a bathtub for me?"

"What are we? Starship Depot?" the petty officer muttered off the comm, before opening the channel and starting to reply, "No problem, sir, we'll just need a Form 47-J..."

"That will not be necessary," Three stated, interrupting the petty officer as the drone emerged from out of his office. "This is Lieutenant Three of Seven. I will require precisely seventeen minutes and forty-seven seconds in which to prepare the requested materials, and then will install them myself."

Frost's jaw was on the floor, as the drone blatantly violated his own coveted and sacred rules of procedure.

"Dungeon Master, please annotate this on the acquisitions and task list."

* * * *

Three always buffered his estimates somewhat, to err on the statistical side of caution. Instead of arriving at Lieutenant Mantell's quarters in seventeen minutes and forty-seven seconds, he had arrived in sixteen minutes and fifty seconds. Perhaps inefficient to give the lieutenant an inaccurate estimation of time, or to overestimate the time involved in preparing for the task, but it seemed unlikely that the Miran would notice either.

While the clawfoot tub had been replicating in the ship's industrial replicator, Three had changed out of his ordinary uniform for another set of gold colored coveralls. A more appropriately designed outside for laboring on the bathroom floor, as the drone worked to connect the necessary replicator extension into the design of the room.

With the illusion of pipes running into the tub, water would be replicated into the faucet - much like the sinks aboard the ship - and then filtered and disintegrated back into the matter matrix as it went into the drain pan in the floor.

"A most inefficient means of personal hygiene," the drone noted as he worked.

"Hygiene?" the Miran asked, startled by the question. The blond-haired boy turned his head towards the former Borg, peering at the drone-boy's back with a single eyebrow raised, a look that had taken years to perfect while on the Seleya. "Seriously, you think a bathtub is just for hygiene? They're for having fun, playing with bath toys, relaxing in bubble baths and a great way to get sleepy. I can't believe you didn't know this, you can't tell me you never had a bath when you were growing up."

Realizing the implications of his words, Jack's face took on a more sullen appearance. "Oh, I mean..."

The drone perceived the other lieutenant's sudden change of tone, but was unable to place it. "My childhood before the Collective was as a slave aboard a Kazon vessel. It is unlikely there were any bathtubs present," he answered succinctly, completing the installation work along the floor and then standing back up.

"I am curious as to your thoughts regarding the upcoming visit to the FunZone," the Borg stated, changing the subject.

At the mention of the FunZone, Jack perked up again. "Oh, Three, it's going to be so much fun. My old ship never went anywhere like this. You know what they did for Shore Leave? They meditated, they read old, dusty books, and they purified their emotions." He scoffed and stuck out a pink tongue, demonstrating just how much meditation and reading meant to him.

"A whole ship made up of holodecks, can you imagine?" the boy continued, "Have you ever run The Young Adventures of Dash Martin?" The holoserial followed the adventures of a school-aged agent of B.O.L.T., who uncovered conspiracies and foiled evil plots against the benevolent Star Republic. "I've always wanted to try it, but it takes more than one person. We should totally run that when we get there!"

"The holodecks on this ship should be capable of rendering the fantasy you cite," the drone commented simply. "However, these is an assignment regarding the FunZone that I require your assistance with, provided it is maintained in confidence as the crew does not need to be aware the true purpose for this port call."

"What do you mean?" Jack inquired. Was this a joke? He wasn't sure if Borg drones had humor, though so far Three hadn't displayed any. Then again, the former drone might burst into laughter at any moment, signalling a successful newbie hazing ritual of some kind. The boy thought it best to proceed with caution, given that possibility. "What do you have up your sleeve?"

The drone inclined his head to one side. A habit of sorts when he encountered an idiom or phrase that defied the logic behind the literal words. "My sleeves are quite empty," Three stated in reply. "I mean that the visit to the FunZone is a subterfuge. To date, several dozen Federation citizens have been reported missing. The common denominator is that each was last seen on board the FunZone. Starfleet has asked that this matter be investigated quietly, so not to disrupt tourism and to avoid unnecessary panic. For that purpose, I have been tasked with assembling a team that will conduct this investigation while the remainder of the crew act on the belief that it is shore leave."

"Missing?" Jack mouthed the word again to himself, the visions of enacting the adventures of Dash Martin vanishing as he thought about the dozens of missing people. "So we're going undercover?" the boy asked hopefully, his thoughts once again on Dash Martin. Perhaps this would be like a real adventure, even better than a holodeck program. "And you want me to be on this team? Really?"

"The tendency for humanoids to dismiss you as a child socially ought to enable you to move with relative freedom in most open areas of the FunZone, which includes some of the more high traffic locations," Three stated simply. "It is a logical decision to include you in the team."

Jack stared at Three open-mouthed. Very few individuals in all his Starfleet career had ever considered his appearance to be a boon, much less a specific reason for his inclusion in a mission. Not even his Vulcan former shipmates, for all their logic and efficiency, had seen much worth in his childishness, all save Captain T'Prev. Perhaps the Borg were the more liberal logicians, as opposed to the conservative Vulcans. The boy could think of nothing better to do, so he stepped toward Three and wrapped his arms around the drone. "Wow, thank you, Three."

Three had calculated precisely forty-seven possible outcomes to this conversation. Physical embrace had not been in the list of possibilities. "I assume this is an indication of your willingness to participate in the subterfuge," the drone noted, confused. And awkwardly standing there as Jack continued to hug him.

The boy stepped back, bringing up his arm in an old-fashioned military salute. "Lieutenant Jack Mantell, reporting for spy duty!" He grinned his best, and then added, "By the way, if you stay any longer, you're liable to get splashed at."

Without another word, Jack leaned over the new tub and started the water flowing. He didn't see Three's retreating form leave the bathroom, only the sound of the doors sliding shut alerted him to the drone's absence. Once the water was ready, the Miran boy slipped into his waiting bath, daydreaming of the spy mission that was to come.