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Continuing Story

Posted on Fri Sep 14th, 2018 @ 9:37pm by Isabella Cerin & Commander Martin Sorenson

Mission: A Misguiding Hand
Location: 10 Forward
Timeline: Sometime after 'A Novel Discussion'

Martin glanced around as he entered. No snickers, only a few smirks ...so far so good. Normally he went to the aft lounge, Galaxy's End, but that was a slightly more adult atmosphere lounge and given the reason he felt the need for drink, 'adult' was the last thing he wanted. What he wanted was for a stupid trashy novel to disappear into a sudden time anomaly, but since that was unlikely he'd settle for a nice strong drink.

Izzy nibbled...not exactly delicately or professionally, but at least acceptably--on the end of a handful of hasperat-seasoned shoestring cut french fries; a perhaps inevitable favorite of hers given her heritage. The cheeseburger to the side of them was an indulgence she was forbidden not only in any "official" encounter but honestly in any happy hour with colleagues as well; sloppy and unkempt enough in its consumption--even with a knife and fork, for that matter--as to be a private indulgence. The shadow across her Betazoid uttaberry mojito along the table made her look up, surprised to find someone standing above the table with a full tray of food.

"Please. Have a seat." She motioned at the empty other side of the table.

Martin looked down, somewhat surprised. He had actually been scanning for an empty table and rather pointedly not looking at anyone after getting come-hither look and gesture from one of the civilians and wink from one of the newer crew members. However, seeing that this invitation had come from a friend, he relaxed - but only slightly. It seemed unlikely that Izzy with her diplomat's instinct to have an ear to the ground would be unaware of the book. "Are you sure?" he asked, lips turning wryly. "I wouldn't want to sully your reputation."

"I'd say that's already been done." She said with an ironic eyeroll, swallowing another bite of fries. "Apparently my literary counterpart is quite accomplished in acquiring signatories to a variety of treaties and conventions; nearly unprecedented in numbers." A pause, as she started for a moment at the ceiling. "By...sleeping with...her counterparts in a variety of...interesting...ways."

A laugh burst out; he couldn't help it. "Sorry," Martin said, taking a seat. He shook his head, then swallowed another disbelieving laugh. "I hadn't heard that they made your character Orion."

"That would've been an...Excuse." She said with a sip of her drink. "If they had. As it was, it was mostly the...behavior. Without the cultural and biological adaptation. Not to mention a fondness for strong drinks that would make reality look convoluted."

"Some stereotypes never die," he said, tipping his whiskey toward her before taking a drink. "But at least your character maybe had drunkenness as an excuse. Mine apparently was just the worst possible rehash of the doctor in very hospital soap opera who spends more time jumping into patients' beds than treating them." He rolled his eyes.

"Success on both counts, I suppose." Izzy said acerbically, with another bite of fries. "For patient survival and diplomatic acumen. Sleeping our way through the Delta quadrant..."

Martin laughed, a bit helplessly but it felt good to be able to laugh about it. He took a bite of his own fries - a rare indulgence, especially since they were coated in cheddar sauce - but he justified them along with the replicator's best approximation of fried walleye as comfort food, as well as good idea to eat something substantial if he was going to drink straight whiskey. "Or wherever. I'm half afraid the book will sell well enough to inspire a sequel."

"In which the author proves they have as little understanding as before; where our characters reappear and somehow run for political offices they wouldn't legally be allowed to stand for." Izzy replied, dragging a pair of fries through the seasoning dusted on the plate. "Or maybe just sleep with whomever holds them. I'd suggest we get in on the situation as consultants for a...modest fee...but that would get rung up as an ethics violation..."

"Make us politicians?" Martin put on an expression of semi-mock horror. "And I thought making us the Ship of Sluts was bad. But I doubt that story line is likely, unless they make the ship some sort of spy vessel... maybe rechristened the USS James Bond?" he quipped.

“Considering what they wrote in the first and current volume, I wouldn’t rule it out...”

"I suppose not not," Martin replied and took another drink. "But I doubt they want to abandon a love Boat name as perfect as Venus. More likely, they'll embroil us in intrigue around Cardassia or searching mysterious regions of the Badlands. Solving conflicts one orgy at a time," he snarked and dropped into an imitation of a holovid announcer. "I can see it now: The continuing story of the USS Venus... Seeking out new night life and new plotlines for hedonistic abandon. Boldly going where no sleazy romance has gone before..."

"Given the proclivities of a good percentage of Cardassian guls, they could definitely have some success with a Cardassian storyline." She popped the last of her fries into her mouth and swallowed. "Though if certain characters sleep with any, I might want to sue."

Martin chuffed a laugh. "After the fallout I saw in medbay today, I think you might have to get in line."

 

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