noteasybeingred (noteasybeingred) wrote in wheretheboldgo, @ 2011-04-28 08:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | samuel b. giotto |
WHO: Sam Giotto + Open (Or narrative)
WHAT: Sam is dealing with tribble clean-up.
WHEN: 2259.117 [04/27] – backdated to before Scotty’s message
WHERE: Giotto’s office, security dept.
RATING: PG
Once inside his (blessedly tribble-free) office, Giotto checked reports from the various teams, organizing the data to mark off sectors cleared, contained, in progress, or yet to be searched. He sneezed and noted the fur covering his sleeves as he reached for a tissue. He sincerely hoped he wasn't developing an allergy to tribbles. Even after they got all the little furballs off the ship it would probably be weeks before they managed to clean up the hair that had been shed quite literally everywhere.
Giotto blew his nose and caught a faint sound as he finished. A little trilling squeak. Apparently his office wasn't entirely tribble-free.
He scanned all the visible surfaces but since he kept things fairly uncluttered there weren't many places for it to hide in plain sight, so he got down on his hands and knees to peer into the spaces under his desk. There, in the far corner, wedged into a tiny gap near the safe, was a black tribble with gray-tipped fur - near perfect camouflage for that hiding place.
Hopefully they’d figure out how to pick them out by sensor soon, because tribbles were apparently also born with an instinct for hide-and-seek. Except when it came to places where people didn’t want to find them. Sam shook his head. It was still hard to believe one of his security officers was afraid of the little furballs. Well, the kid had talent with a bat’leth so maybe it wasn’t completely out of bounds for him to have an aversion to tribbles.
Giotto pulled the sneaky little hairball out and set it on his desk. "Nice try, buddy, but you've got to go too."
The tribble made a sad little warbling noise.
Against his better judgment, Sam picked it up. Tribbles had a tranquilizing effect on humans (and Vulcans too even if Spock refused to admit it) and there was just a chance that that soothing effect might alleviate the pounding headache that the available analgesics were not helping. After eating his stash of hydrocortilene, not to mention all the other trouble they'd caused, the tribbles really owed him that much.
He stroked it with two fingers, saying softly. "P'tahk yIH-Hom"
Useless little tribble... after today, Sam had a new appreciation of why 'yIH' featured in so many Klingon insults.
A long time ago, during the Border Wars, his unit had played a deadly game of cat and mouse with a detachment of Klingons in the tunnels of Matarus – at least until surface bombardment had collapsed the passages, leaving the surviving foes trapped in adjacent chambers. Once it had become clear that they couldn't escape (or get at one another), they'd begun trading threats and then insults. As the hours passed, it had turned into a competition and finally into a sort of odd camaraderie as each side taught the other the kind of expressions that were never covered in basic language courses.
Starfleet had arrived to dig them out first and the Commander in charge had been amazed (and a little appalled) to hear his trapped troops laughing while trading profane jibes, and occasional plaudits for particularly good ones, with the enemy.
Though Giotto had never had a talent for languages, somehow those lessons in how to cuss like a Klingon had stayed with him. Klingonese was rich in expletives and there was a long tradition of resorting to ‘curse warfare’ when blood could not be shed. In fact, since the current detente had (thankfully) suspended the threat of actual warfare between them, it had become the preferred route. The last time he'd run into one of his old adversaries, the Klingon had called him a 'soft beardless Qa'Hom'. Giotto had had the pleasure of seeing him taken aback when he retorted ‘yIH ngaghwI' poH’. Korax had obviously not expected a human to know that one.
Sam smiled and let the purring tribble rest against his stomach as the throbbing in his temples began to subside. Tribbles were a serious nuisance, but not completely useless.