There is No HONOR in your Sit-Ups!

Posted on Wed Jul 10th, 2019 @ 5:13pm by Ensign Fiona O'Dell & Ensign Briaar Gavarus & Petty Officer 2nd Class 'Big Ethel' Jablonski & Petty Officer 3rd Class S'Rina Wil'I'Ams & Petty Officer 3rd Class V'Nus Wil'I'Ams
Edited on on Mon Jul 22nd, 2019 @ 9:11am

Mission: Fractured Fairy Tales
Location: Main Gymnasium
Timeline: 2396

It was about twelve minutes past 04:00 and the alarm chime was going off with a steady pinging as Ensign Briaar Gavarus snored violently through it. The somewhat sloppy bedroom was just organized enough to pass inspection once everything was shoved under the bed or into the closet, but it was home to the grumpy Tellarite Engineer that was sleeping off a long night of late drinking.

Most nights were long nights of late drinking for Gavarus and her pint-sized partner in crime, the test pilot, Ensign Fiona O'Dell. The two-meter-tall Tellarite and the Mariposian midget had quickly become the scourge of Ten-Forward, and it was a badge of honor for them.

So it was no surprise that the porcine officer was sleeping through her alarm. At least until her bedroom door hissed open, and a figure crept in. Rounding the bed, there was a hushed chuckle from the darkness. But Gavarus didn't stir, snoring louder than ever.

Slowly, a small white shape covered in fur was lowered over the pig-like snout of the slumbering giant. Delicately, a hand holding the purring tribble known as 'Cueball' over the snout of its owner waved the fuzzy form gently across, lightly brushing Gavarus' snout.

The irritable engineer stirred, snorting and crinkling her snout, but not quite waking up. From the darkness, a musical and tiny voice said, in a sing-song voice, "BriiAAAaaaar... BriiiAAAAAAAAAaar..."

Wiggling the cooing tribble against Gavarus' snout again, the light, melodious voice continued to chime, "Wake oop, Briaar."

This time, the tired Tellarite stirred a bit more, and her bleary eyes opened as she brought up a thick, three-fingered hand to scratch her now itchy snout. As her eyes came into a soft focus, she saw the impossibly cheerful face of the grinning ginger with far too much morning energy, Fiona O'Dell.

"Top o' the mornin' to ye, Briaar!" She shouted in a much louder, more boisterous greeting, holding Cueball in front of her as an offering or shield from harm, possibly both.

Startled, Gavarus shouted with surprise and shot back in her bed, nearly falling backward out of it as she did. "What the effin' @#$%, Fee!? What are you doing?!"

“I come ta wake ye oop, yeh great snorin’ swine! Tis oh four hundred, and we’re ta report to the gym, aye? Remember? We were off for leave, but now yuir pretty pack’a pulchitrudinous poundage is g’win ta expect us ta be there fuir our PT trainin, so’s we kin both pass the test that’s comin’, aye?” The overly cheerful O’Dell was, of course, a morning person, so naturally she was already up and dressed, had snuck into Gavarus’ quarters and found a way to awaken her without getting tossed across the room.

“Ah bring peace offerins!” she chirped, tucking the cooing tribble into the crook of her arm so she could raise a cup of coffee and a donut to her porcine pal.

Eyeballing the donut, Gavarus snatched it and took a bite, talking with her mouth full. "Well, this kinda defeats the point, but screw it." Slowly, the enormous engineer curled to a seated position, wearing nothing but an oversized night-shirt with a cartoon pig on the chest. As she did, she let out a massive yawn. "Shit... I guess we have to and... wait, Pulchawhosiwhat?"

“Yuir great big pile a muscles ye loost after, Jablonski? Remember, only gal on the ship ye hafta look up to?” O’Dell chirped, shifting the tribble to hold him in one arm as she idly stroked the white fur. “I thought I’d say somethin’ other than ‘yuir gal pal who I look in the bellybuttom alla time’ for a change.”

Snorting out a light laugh at the visual of that, Gavarus looked at the time and all but leapt up. "Shit. And we're supposed to be there in fifteen minutes. Craaaap."

Mention of the object of her affections woke the temperamental Tellarite up better than a cup of coffee, as she crept up to grab at the pile of what she was relatively certain were clean clothes, searching for her work out gear, her industrial strength sports bra and a pair of functional underwear. Finding a pair of hot pink panties, she unceremoniously shoved them to her face and took a whiff.

"Hmm. Thank the gods, that was the clean pile," Gavarus muttered as she awkwardly pulled them on, revealing most of her mammoth ass, complete with short twisty tail, to her diminutive wingwoman, in the process. The two friends were in no way self-conscious around one another, sharing drinks and having ended up partially or wholly naked in front of one another a surprising number of times in their association. As Gavarus headed to the reclamator, she continued talking, as she didn’t bother to close the door.

For her part, O’Dell mostly just paid no attention and focused on the tribble, which seemed relatively large in her childlike arms, which purred, cooed and trilled happily to be paid attention to by the little lass. O’Dell had often mentioned missing the various livestock that her family kept as pets slash sources of wool, hides or future meals. Which meant that Cueball the Tribble was a perfect substitute for her desire for something fluffy and cuddly to pet and hug.

As O'Dell cuddled with Cueball, there was a rushing sound as Gavarus began emptying her bladder from the last evening’s drinks. "Daaaaammm... Okay. That's the first beer. There's the second beer. Whisky shot. Whisky shot. Third beeeeerrrr and boom!"

"Okay, let me just wash up real quick, feed Cuey and throw my shit on and we're good to go." Gavarus commented in real time as she flushed the reclimator and washed up.

“Nae worries, I’ll care fuir the wee one!” Fiona brightly offered, bouncing into the other room to fetch the food flakes that were specifically designed to maintain a healthy, neutered tribble. Which was funny, since they also fed the small lifeform beer, whiskey or whatever the two of them were eating or drinking at the moment. Setting him down delicately in his container, Fiona waggled her fingers at her furry friend.

Together, the unlikely pair finished up the last few morning tasks and bolted out the door on their way to the Hera's expansive gymnasium to meet with Petty Officer Ethel Jablonski. The two plus meter tall Amazonian mountain of remarkably kind muscle had been pitching in to help Gavarus and O'Dell to get in better shape for the egregarious engineer's upcoming physical, and the pernicious pilot's work in the experimental flight mech known as the Thunderchicken.

As they arrived in as much of a hurry as the slack duo could ever been seen making, they stood in the open doorway, looking for the object of Briaar Gavarus' desires. "Uh... we're, like, a few minutes late. I didn't think she was physically capable of being late."

Gavarus commented with a puzzled expression. "You don't think she just got sick of my bullshit... fawning... and ditched, do you?"

“Nahhhh, that ain’t yuir girl. Remember, she encourages the both of us e’en when ye just flop on the deck and canna move n’more. She must have a duty or something… so hey, now she won’t know we were late, so we kin cut corners on the workout, aye?” Leave it to O’Dell to try to turn a negative into a positive- at least, while sober. When drunken she became far more obnoxious and confrontational.

“Let’s do the stretches she showed us and get ready, aye? This way when she shows she’ll know ye been takin’ her lessons to heart, aye?” Leading the way, O’Dell didn’t bother waiting for an answer before setting off, those short toothpicks she called legs propelling her along. Gavarus suspected that given how much they drank and how little O’Dell seemed to sleep, she probably had some sort of glandular disorder that gave her boundless energy. Which was probably at least part of the reason why she was so short and petite to begin with.

"Please. She's not my anything." Following behind, Gavarus begrudgingly made her way to the mat where O'Dell had already begun stretching. After shaking off a little lingering sleep, Gavarus began being over to stretch her back out, as it protested with a series of wet, popping sounds.

"Gyaaa. Gods damn, this never gets... Oooh... Easier." Gavarus grunted as she continued. "Isn't it supposed to get frickin' easier, Fee?"

But before the energetic ginger dynamo could answer, there came a bellowing and gravely belly laugh from behind the pair that made both of them just about jump out of their skins. "HA!!! 'Easier'? Easy is for mewling children and little piggies? True warriors crave challenge eternal!"

"You gonna let her call ye a wee mewwwwwlin' child, Gavarus?" O'Dell chucked a thumb over her shoulder without looking back as she set back into her stretches.

Turning around to see who was insulting her this time, Gavarus gulped and knitted her eyebrows at the site of Petty Officers, S'Rina and V'Nus Wil'I'ams- the USS Hera's resident Klingon security sisters.

"Uh, yeah. Probably, yeah." Gavarus whispered to O'Dell.

"Look, sister. The tiny one is stupid as well as weak," the other Klingon warrior observed with a sneer, when O'Dell turned to eyeball them. Hands parked on her hips, toothpick arms akimbo, she stepped into the space between the two dark-skinned muscular women in matching pink t-shirts that read 'Home Team'.

"Now what was that ye joost said aboot me...?" O'Dell asked, looking up at the two much taller and larger women out from under her brows.

"Oh, for shit's sake, you are NOT in the 'Chicken, Fee!" Gavarus whispered in a mild panic as she watched her best friend about to challenge clearly angry Klingons.

Trying to keep her temperamental buddy from getting stepped on, Gavarus had to step into a role she was completely unqualified for: peacemaker. But she was also more mad that they insulted O'Dell then she was about being insulted herself. They insulted O'Dell, so her attempt at smoothing the situation over was more than a little sarcastic.

"Hey, yeah. So, I don't know if this is, like, your section of floormat or something, but we're not overtly attached to it, so it's all yours. Crappla, or whatever."

"Naaaae ye don't. We're nae backin doown from this," O'Dell set her chin in a defiant pout. "G'wan, say somethin' else?"

"You have courage, tiny one, if not the sense of a drom'Li," the taller and more slender sister observed archly, as the shorter but much more muscular sister leaned down, putting her hands on her knees as if addressing a child. "Are you challenging me, little thing?"

Stepping in between the two while internally cursing herself, Gavarus chuckled uncomfortably. "Yeah. Big challenge? Bar darts? Drunk Jenga? Math? REALLY drunk Jenga? Just getting drunk? That's our game."

"Or the really new fun party hit, 'who doesn't want to get court martialed for no reason'? We kick ass at that challenge." Gavarus concluded, meeting the gaze of the surly Klingon who could likely kill her with a hard stare.

The Klingon woman's eyes narrowed, and her glower was practically palpable. "Are you threatening me, you great ball of fetid flatulent-"

"Officer," O'Dell chirped, wedging in front of Gavarus again like a pair of siblings jostling to be first. "The word yuir lookin' for, Petty Officer, is 'officer. As in 'Ensign'. As in, 'Went to officer school and outranks ye' nae matter how big an' toof ye are, so as Ensign Gavarus joost mentioned, are ye playin' 'Who wants ta get court martialed'? Because ye've already insulted a pair of officers. Ye want ta go for assault too? I hear the penal colony on the dark side of Luna is particularly deep and cold, aye?"

Looking down at O'Dell, Gavarus's eyebrows raised up with an unexpected smirk. "Well, yeah. There's that, too." Then she whispered down to the tiny terror, "Nice."

"Sooo, we're just here to exercise. What are you here for?" Gavarus added, noticing the rest of the gym had gone eerily quiet as it seemed that most all of those there were quite invested in what was going to happen next.

The two Klingon sisters exchanged glances, and in short order, they had a silent argument between one another in the space of a few seconds. Then the more sleder of the two, V'Nus, genuflected in front of the irate Irish stereotype.

"You are officers, this is true. Starfleet has rules about officer's rank and enlisted respect. We honor this, for we have sworn oaths." Both Klingons stiffened up a bit at that, then the burlier of the duo, S'Rina continued. "This is the training ground for warriors. Here, we challenge one another, to push ourselves to be greater, to be stronger, to be faster- to be tougher. We speak words of challenge to rouse the warrior's spirit in our comrades. So that we all may train hard and grow strong, as warriors."

"We come to train as warriors," V'Nus declared. "Do you also come to train as warriors?"

All about the gymnasium, Gavarus and O'Dell were suddenly aware that all activity had ceased, and literally everyone in Gymnasium 1 was watching and listening to see how this played out. Taking it in via the mirrors that lined the walls, Gavarus noticed that of the dozen crewmen, most of the crew working out in here were women. Muscular, fit women. Security officers, even.

Under normal circumstances, Gavarus might be looking at the assemblage lustfully. Most of the women in the room were the exact kind of women that turned her on, after all. But in that moment the flustered and angry Tellarite was fed up with the chest bumping machismo on display.

She rubbed the bridge of her snout for a moment, trying to compose herself. But instead, as was more often the case with the confrontational Porcine officer, she just started vomiting words. "Oh, for @#$&s sake. I swear I'm gonna lose IQ points with all this 'warrior' bullshit."

"Yeah! We're here to train as warriors! My war is I need to fit my fetid flatulent FAT ASS in the ships goddamn Jefferies Tubes so the goddamn warp core doesn't implode and kill us all while you're asleep dreaming of frickin' GLORY!" Gavarus started ranting, gesticulating with het hands.

"And she's here to train because Fiona mother@#$&ing O'Dell is the ONLY pilot in Starfleet thats fully rated to fly the frickin'Thunderchicken and not frickin' DIE doing it!" The words just kept falling out of her as she continued to get angrier.

"Wanna know WHY?! Because you don't just fly it like any old shuttle. It's a Frickin' neural link! You don't fly it... It flies YOU! So, she needs to train to make sure that the next time she LEADS THE CHARGE TO SAVE THE WHOLE DAMN SHIP, her heart doesn't explode and her brain doesn't liquify! Because HER brain can make ten tons of metal frickin' DANCE!" Forgetting the situation, Gavarus all but let her snout touch the irate Klingon as she yelled in her face.

"Beacuse if you linked all the rest of you together, you're combined brainpower couldn't get that rig to FART, and that would land you in sick bay with a frickin' stroke! So, yeah! We're here to train as WARRIORS! WANNA DO SOME SQUAT THRUSTS?!"

The nostrils of the standing Klingon woman flared, and her puils dilated even as her dark skin flushed even darker as a lowl, long and particularly pitched growl started somewhere within her, even as her taller and more lithe sister, on one knee before the midget Mariposian officer held out a restraining arm before her sibling. A string of barking, guttural Klingonese came out of her mouth, which made no sense to either of the officers.

"Hold, sister! Aroused you may be, but this is not our world, these are not our people and their ways are not our ways. You will have to make with the mewling talking and asking of permissions and crossing of boundaries before you pounce upon the fat one to make her squeal, sister," V'Nus restrained her stronger sibling with a call to honor, even as the frustrated Klingon woman's growls became more of a snarl.

"The moment will pass and my loins will not crave that snouted face to do squat thrusts upon if I must talk and ask and all of the weaksauce traditions of Federation mating. But in this moment, I would take her, sister! Here on the mats of Gymnasium One!" S'Rina growled out as she took a deep breath to compose herself.

To the two R&D officers, it seemed the more sensible one was talking the angrier one out of removing Gavarus' lungs through O'Delll's windpipe. Which might have de-escalated, if not for that being the moment that Petty Officer Jablonski strode into the gym like she owned it, quickly noticing the little stand-off, and her skilled eye recognizing the situation as a confrontation of some sort.

"So hey there, what's going on over here, eh?" the mountainous mass of muscle asked casually as she tossed a towel onto her shoulder.

Under normal circumstances, the sight of the woman of her dreams might have rendered Gavarus dumbstruck and speechless. But in the moment, she was still pissed off and didn't know how to quit while she was ahead.

"We just came to exercise, but apparently we need to kill and eat something first to be worthy frickin' warriors!" The Porcine Engineer shouted, still staring at the Klingon woman she had no idea wanted to mount her right there on the exercise mat.

"Though, now I'm not Exactly sure what's going on, because I don't speak Klingon!" At which point, Gavarus started shouting sarcastically in, of all things, pig Latin. "ichwhay , ifyay ouyay askyay emay , ain'tyay exactlyyay onorablehay. ightray?"

While O'Dell wasn't thrilled by not understanding the alien conversation either, which surprised her. In the moment she couldn't realize why, but she'd grown accustomed to her comm badge translating everything for her. Even some of the Lieutenant's more colorful Romulan phrases. Right now, however, what she was picking up on was more on an instinctive fight or flight mechanism that the tiny test pilot had as a rather strong reaction to large mammals in her vicinity moving with aggressive intent. Having grown up in a house with seven brothers all older and larger than she, O'Dell had a finely tuned fight or flight.

Unsurprisingly, it leaned quite heavily to flight.

In the world of mammals and their interactions, Fiona O'Dell was what her upbringing and genetics had made her- a sheep. She was a clever and quick sheep, but prey, nonetheless. With V'Nus on the ground at her level. O'Dell felt that she was like a puma- patient, confident and in no hurry, as she could strike with speed. That one was restrained because she had patience. To the bonny babe of the Bringloidians, for all the world seemed her aggressive sister quite a gorilla clearly had none. All but pounding her chest in a... oh wait, was that not violence but a... oh...!

Which was when O'Dell swore she could feel a draft as Jablonski eased up onto the scene.

Practiced eyes played across the scene, frozen in tableau. The Security personnel could all read the situation, bu6t not everyone had tumbled exactly to the full depth of the situation- instead reading it as a conflict about to erupt into violence. Jablonski looked confused, maintaining an open mind.

"So you gals gettin' all warmed up?" the captain of the honor guard asked innocently, rubbing her hands together in anticipation of the day with a smile. Which was when that growl kind of turned into a hiss from S'Rina, who was still eyeing the toothsome Tellarite and had finally decided to throw caution to the wind.

"I will have you now, subcreature!" was what she shouted as her sister shouted for her to stop, but it all came out like loud chewing noises to Gavarus as the burly Klingon woman hurled herself at the irritable engineer, stopped short by her sister, who snagged the back of her bright pink sports top to bring her sister up short before she could tackle the tall Tellarite..

"EEEEEE!!!! She's gonna EAT me!!!!" Gavarus squealed.

As O'Dell leapt to the defense of the terrified Tellarite, interposing her inconsequential mass between the two women, Jablonski rolled her eyes, shook her head and picked up S’Rina with one hand and Gavarus with the other. Quite a feat, even for the overly large Security officer.

“Whoah whoah whoah, okay now, how about we all just settle down here, hm? The gymnasium is for everybody, and that means everybody. So both of you calm down, eh? How about we all take a deep breath and compose ourselves before we’re all standing in from of the Captain explaining why we can’t get along in the gym, okay now?” Jablonski held both women by the sport tops, as both the Klingon and Tellarite’s feet dangled off the ground.

The porcine hooves of the rotund engineer wiggled uselessly as she hung there. But as terrified as she had been a second ago, it seemed all but magically erased by a wave of lusty awe as Gavarus's eyes about popped out of her head as she stared at 'Big' Ethel Jablonski. "Uh... Heh heh... Y... Yeah. Yeah I'm totally composed."

Trying to not smile too aggressively, Gavarus flashed an overly friendly gaze at the object of her affections as she was immediately snapped out of her momentary daze by the aggressive and still somewhat lusty glare of S'Rina Wil'I'ams, dangling a few feet away. As she realized she had been about to commit a serious breach of ethics, the Klingon petty officer calmed herself through force of will. Which was made somewhat easier by her comrade in arms, to whom the rest of the Security team deferred, literally dangling her off the ground as if her weight were inconsequential.

“I am… composed. I am calm. Now PUT ME DOWN,” the Klingon warrior sniffed indignantly, more embarrassed over her casual handling by her burly peer than anything else.

“Only if you’re gonna be calm and get along,” Jablonski scolded. “That goes for you too, Ensign. I know this is technically assault and you can press charges if you want, but I’m just making sure nobody is going to escalate this situation.” At that, Jablonski peered at Gavarus, then S’Rina, and then at O’Dell, who blinked in surprise.

“Me??! I’m nae doin innything! I’m innocent as a lamb! Right?” she cast an eye and a hand to V’Nus, who rolled her eyes.

“Yes, Ensign, you are truly innocent as a babe,” the Klingon security officer offered with no conviction whatsoever.

"Yeah. Uh... de-escalation is what we're going for here. We are currently escalated and we want to be on the deck again." Gavarus chuckled awkwardly, gagging slightly as her blood circulation was being cut off by being lifted by the back of her top, which was digging into her armpits and cutting off blood flow to her arms. Her fingers were starting to go numb.

"Nope... No assault here. Just a big... REALLY BIG misunderstanding, right?" Gavarus added, trying to smile exaggeratedly at S'Rina. "S... Seriously... Please put... put me down. I'm gonna black out or throw up or both and... *Hurk* I dunno... in which order..."

With that request, Jablonski gingerly set the two crew members down on the deck once more, with a restraining hand on the shoulder of each of them. "So everybody’s okay now, right? No conflict?”

While she was uncertain of what she had stumbled into, the burly security officer could recognize a situation she needed to defuse, and was now hoping whatever catastrophe had been about to unfold had now been averted.

“We were attempting to motivate the officers to engage with us in their workout,” V’Nus offered, as a somewhat truthful version of the situation.

“Yes… engaging,” S’Rina added, looking somehow mortified."

Standing unsteadily on wobbly legs, Gavarus shook out her fingers trying to get blood back into them. "Ooh... pins and needles... uh... Yeah. They were... engaging us."

As she spoke, she started poking herself in the snout to make sure she could feel it before stopping herself mid thought with a start. "Engaging us to WORK OUT! Work out and totally nothing else. At all."

Looking from one participant in the situation to the other, O’Dell summed up the situation in her own inimitable way. “Well, consider us engaged. So now, if ye’ll excuse me, we’re g’win ta engage breakfast, then we’ll come back to work out afterward, aye?” As Jablonski began to object, the short spitfire stuck a finger out in her direction. “Nae a word, Miss Jablonski. That’s what we’re doing, and I know the warnings and we’ll throw up over the side of that bridge when we get there. Come on, Gavarus.”

With that, the tiny terror of the flight deck stepped behind her pudgy partner to put both hands on her back to start literally pushing her toward the door.

Offering remarkably little resistance, Gavarus picked up on O'Dell's intentions and started out as well. "We'll be back to... uh... feel the warrior burn! Yeah." Then she comically shook a pudgy fist in the air as she all but ran out the door. "Be ready for our return! CRAPPLA!

The instant the door hissed shut, Gavarus loudly whispered to her puny partner-in-crime. "Oh gods, we're not actually coming back today, are we?!"

“Are ye kiddin?” O’Dell rolled her eyes and held up her hands, palms to the sky. “It was either watch the Klingon eat you, or watch you get gooey over the fact that Jablonski can pick you up with one hand. After alla that, the only thing keepin’ me from day drinkin’ is the fact that Lieutenant would murderpunch me…”

"Yeah, I think I've almost died enough for one day." Gavarus grumbled as they walked very quickly to the turbolift. But as they walked, Gavarus' face spread into a huge smile. "But still... ONE FRICKIN' ARM, Fee! That was frickin' awesome!"

“Pffft. Big deal. Gals pick me up by one arm all the time...” O’Dell replied with a wink and a nudge to the ribs of the smitten engineer.