A Russian, an Irishman, and an Australian Walk Into a Shuttlecraft

[Quintin M'guire 0]

“A Russian, an Irishman, and an Australian Walk Into a Shuttlecraft”

Joint Log by Lt. Anastasia Poldara and Ens. Quintin M'Guire

--------------------------------------------------------------------

 

All grandiloquence, Quintin M'Guire lounged back in his chair, boasting over some past manuever. Using his hands he demonstrated the situation he was telling, "The nit thought he could catch me in the planet's gravity with a upward U-turn, but his vessel was already banjaxed to 'ell. Using the gravity, I was able to slow meself and pull in right behind the bugger with an upward helix. He weren't ready to put up much of a fight after that."

 

Anastasia blinked as she tried to take in the complicated tale. The Longbourne had only been in transit for a couple of minutes before the three of them had discovered they were all destined for Challenger. After brief introductions, Michael had made the mistake of asking Quintin about his experience as a pilot. Now here they were, several hours later. While her attention was waning, her husband seemed enraptured by Quintin's tale.

 

"Wow. That must have been exciting," Michael said. "But now you're going to be piloting a starship, where sub-orbital manoeuvres aren't necessarily the best idea. Was this your first choice of assignment?"

 

Quintin laughed raucously, tilting his head to look at the doctor standing behind him. "Well, certainly nah. I never thought I'd be sittin' behind the controls of one those great washing machines. And aye, I wouldn't be wanting to pull any of that, be sending ya'll to your johnnies I would." He chuckled to himself, patting his knee.

 

Anastasia shook her head. "I think I've had all the excitement I need for a while. This new assignment of Challenger's seems like it will be a nice change of pace. Something diplomatic. Hopefully it won't involve high-speed combat."

 

"Well if it does, at least you'll have someone who can patch you up, Ana," said Michael. Then he frowned. "Wait, I suppose this means I have to address you as, 'sir' now. Hmm. I hadn't thought of that."

 

Ignoring her husband, Anastasia turned back to Quintin. "Challenger wasn't my first choice either, but now I'm kind of glad to be coming back. There's something about the transient nature of a starship, the idea that we aren't tied to any one place, that really appeals to me." She glanced down and added, "Especially now."

 

M'Guire stroked his chin thoughtfully for a moment, a broad smile gracing his features for a moment. Poor bloke, he thought to himself after Michael's comment about calling his own wife 'Sir'. The thought of it! He sniffed, turning his attention to Anastasia and smirking. "Aye, I agree entirely. We're not designed for staying in one place for long, scares the bejeezus out of us I think. But, you can be assured, if we're ever in a less than diplomatic situation, Quintin M'Guire will keep that boat out of trouble."

 

With a smirk, Anastasia said, "I'm so pleased to be surrounded by such competent crew members." Even as she said this, Anastasia made a mental note that Quintin M'Guire seemed like the kind of fellow who got into trouble more than he got out of it.

 

M'Guire's loquacity could be exhausting, and Anastasia was looking forward to some solitude when they arrived at Challenger. But their journey so far had been pleasant. "Will this be your first time behind the controls of something as powerful as an Excelsior-class ship, aside from simulations?" she asked.

 

"Ahh well, as me old da used to say, a boat is only as strong as it's timbers. And there be a great many more timbers on lunker such as the Excelsior," Quintin explained, scratching his short beard. "Oh, ah I know what you're gettin' at, Sir. Been mostly flying sketches most of my time here in the great Starfleet, but never got the chance to test me fingers on lady such as that, except in simulations. I'm looking forward, to be sure."

 

Anastasia nodded, feeling for a moment the romance involved in a pilot's relationship with his or her ship. "It's not like that for scientists, of course," she said. "Maybe the science lab is bigger; the sensors might be more sensory, but overall, one ship is like another." Silently, she wondered if that had been her problem, if a lack of a tactile relationship with Challenger had prevented her from settling down. A comfortable hand on her shoulder made her hope that it would be different this time around.

 

Laughing, Quintin leaned back and put his hands behind his head, blithesome as can be. "Ahh, but as there's more to a lady than her smile and legs, there's more to ship than it's sensors and it's engines. She's a living, breathing thing s'far as I'm concerned, and deserves as much as me old mother." Looking thoughtful for a moment he added, "Perhaps more."

 

There it was: the personification of the Ship. Anastasia had never quite been able to subscribe to the concept. Perhaps it was this barrier that prevented her from fully embracing the explorer role. Then again, Vulcans didn't hold such sentiments and—Anastasia shuddered, not eager to compare herself to a Vulcan yet.

 

“Challenger is one of the best,” Anastasia said, then regretted it immediately. After all, it wasn't like she had much experience in these matters. But it was the thought that counted, no? Natural explorers or not, they were all in the service together, and their ship would see them through thick and thin. "Here's hoping to interesting times...."