Bad Hair Day

Posted on Sat Mar 17, 2018 @ 2:00pm by Lieutenant Venus Quinnell & Lieutenant JG Zander Devereaux

Mission: Falling Star
Location: Chief Engineer's Office
Timeline: MD 33 || 1400 Hours

Venus, a coffee mug in one hand, as her fingers tapped on the console on her desk. She had been going over her staff personnel files and returned, once again, to Lieutenant Junior Grade Z. Devereaux.

She had read his file twice, which did not necessarily endear him to her. A qualified engineer she had to admit he indeed was but a disciplined officer, that was entirely a different matter.

The Chief Engineer began tapping her fingers on the desk top as she gazed at his image on the screen. His hair is what first caught her eye. As per Regulation 870, Section 1.8. Such flagrant disregard from an officer was sacrilege in her book. Her own hair, when down, flowed well pass the shoulders, was while on duty, kept in a bun that was not elaborate but more egalitarian. Also, her own uniform was emaculate; collar fastened, sleeves unrolled and tunic pressed without a wrinkle or blemish. Some senior officers were lax on regulations of decorum but she was not

After a moment, realizing the offending officer was possibly just beyond her office door or in the vicinity, she tapped her combadge. =/\= Quinnell to Devereaux. Report to my office. =/\=

=^=On the way=^= A gruff male voice responded. A few minutes later, the short, stocky Engineer tapped on the chime to the office with a mug of coffee in his right hand that had the Starfleet Corps of Engineers emblem on it and the words "When All Else Fails, Coffee."

"Enter." Venus ordered, as she sat straight in her chair. She took a deep breath and exhaled, feeling confident and in control. "Own the space." She whispered as the doors to her office parted revealing Zander, who unfortunately resembled his image in every unfathomable way. She motioned to the empty chair in front of her desk. That ergonomic chair was to be replaced by a straight back version momentarily as per her orders. "Have a seat, Mr. Devereaux." Her tone was as solemn as a mortician's.

Zander took her appearance and demeanor in at a glance and gave an inward grown. The new ChEng was one of those. With a outward sigh that he disguised as blowing into his coffee mug, he went to the torture chair, turned it around and straddled the seat. Without permission, he set his mug on her desk and crossed his arms over the back of the chair. "What can I do for ya, Chief?" he asked.

Venus cringed as she witnessed Zander esconced himself on the chair as if he was at a tavern. "First, Mr. Devereaux, you will address me as either Lieutenant or Ma'am. Anything else is against protocol. Second, you will sit yourself properly. We are not nor will we be familiar. Do not assume that this is a casual conversation among equals. It is not." She tapped the console, her gaze momentarily on the screen. "Regulation 670, Section 1.8 requires you to keep your appearance within the guidelines of the uniform code. I expect you to follow this. Expedite an appointment with the barber." She crossed her arms under her full bosom as if to show her displeasure.

Yup, one of those Zander confirmed mentally as he slung the chair around and sank down into it. He reached for his mug and took a noisy slurp of it before he put it back down on her desk. Some up and coming Loot who was determined to make a name for herself and trying to bring me up on charges by putting her boobs on display, too.

"Begging your pardon, Lieutenant," he said. "But I've been on this ship since she launched, which is about two years before you got lucky enough to be assigned here. In all that time, why is it that you're the only one who seems to have a problem with the length of my hair? Most people want to know about my service record, why I'm only a junior grade Lieutenant or other professional questions that actually have to do with duty."

Venus furrowed her brow, obviously infuriated by what she saw as insubordination. "Mr. Devereaux, I can not speak for my predecessors whom it appears were lax in regulations. I am here now so we will not speak any further on this topic just get it done." She placed her hands back on the table. "I have not forgotten about your record but as you have brought it up, then by all means shall we indulge. Yes, your service aboard this vessel has been long, compared to many in the department. If you want me to give you praise for doing your job or not getting transferred off, you are expecting to much." She paused tapping her fingernails on the desk as she glanced again at the screen. "You were promoted three times and yet demotions seem to be just as often. In fact, one would think you have made a career of attempting to be the underachiever. Why is that?"

"Bad luck," Zander said with a shrug. "Still not lax in regulations as far as the Commodore sees things. I get it, Lieutenant, I really do. I used to be like you. Everything spit and polish, yada yada, blah blah. Then I discovered something more important. That was getting the job done and not giving a crap about how someone looked."

He paused to take another drink of his coffee. "I've been one one boat or starbase after another for about half my life and seen all types come and go. The ones that are the most relaxed and flexible are the ones that advance the fastest. Me? I do my job and do it well and you won't find a thing in my record that says anything I've ever laid my hands on has proved fatal to the ship or base I've served. So why are you coming on this boat with a chip the size of the Alpha Quadrant and trying to bust my chops because I let my hair grow out a bit?"

"Conformity. We have many different races and cultures but in the end we have a uniform appearance. If you gave pride in the uniform, you would want to look respectful of it." Venus folded her arms again. She had expected Zander to relent under her authority but he was stubborn to a fault. "I did not say you were not good at your job. I have read what my predecessors have noted in your record and at this point I can not dispute it. My inquiry today is simply your arrogance that the rules don't apply to you; that regulations -even about hair - is for everyone else."

She tried not to lose her temper. "Even I have long hair but as you can see I wear it in a bun. Why? Because I am an officer and so follow regulations." Venus pressed her hands against the table. "Listen, I want my officers to look like officers not Maquis or pirates." Another pause. "I have read notations on your file about comments, obscene comments you have been heard saying." She sighed. "Do you want to explain why a lieutenant..." She corrected herself.. "A junior lieutenant would even use such language around the crew?"

"Conformity?" Zander asked with a slight curl of his lip. "So does that mean if we get a Klingon aboard that they have to get rid of the ridges on their foreheads or if a Vulcan comes aboard, they have to get their ears clipped?

"Look, I'll make ya a deal, Loot. 'Scuse me, Lieutenant," he went on as he reached back and pulled his hair up and twisted it into a sort of samurai top knot. "If I do this while on duty, would it be copacetic? As for the language and stuff, that's in the past. I'm a changed man. Hasn't happened in months, in fact."

Venus nodded. "That will be sufficient." Allowing Zander to have a small victory. "Just remember to do so while on duty. This will apply to all staff, not just yourself. As for the comments, if as you say this is all in the past then I suggest you keep it there. Some will no doubt be offended and I will act on any complaint quite thoroughly."

The Chief Engineer tapped on her console as if adding notations to his file as they went. "I require a report from every shift supervisor, including Damage Control, on our status over the past 33 days. I expect you will comply within 24 hours. If I see any need for improvement, I'll notify you."

Zander gave a smile and cleared his throat. "Computer, transfer all DCS reports, authorization Devereaux Delta One Nine Six to Lieutenant Quinnell's terminal for the past thirty-three days."

"Acknowledged," the neutral voice responded. "Transfer complete."

"Anything else, Lieutenant?" he asked.

Venus' expression remained surly. "Thank you, Mr. Devereaux. I will get back to you with any changes to Damage Control that I believe will be necessary after reviewing your reports." Another long pause as she again turned to her computer. "That is all unless you have anything further to add?" Her eyes remained on the screen as she spoke as if already dismissing him.

Ya can please some of the people some of the time, but ya can never please a boss that doesn't wanna be pleased, Zander thought as he watched her expression and casual dismissiveness. He got up from his chair after making a point to scrape it against the floor and picked up his mug. "Nope. I think that covers it," he said and without another word, he headed out.