What's in a Name?

Posted on Wed Jun 25, 2025 @ 12:14pm by Lieutenant Bronwyn P’ril & Lieutenant JG Anson Lee
Edited on on Mon Jul 14, 2025 @ 10:44am

1,341 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Time After Time
Location: Corridor on Deck 174
Timeline: MD05 - afternoon

A key portion of Security work was knowing your environment. Now that they weren't actively fighting for their lives, Anson was trying to get familiar with the Station. Who was supposed to be where, and who was actually where, two categories that only partially overlapped. The rhythm of a typical day on the station. The civilians who resided here vs. those just passing through.

With the takeover thwarted, much of the station population, both civilian and Starfleet, was focused on putting the station to rights. It wasn't uncommon to see engineers hard at work. But seeing one half into a service duct, with their tools sitting on the corridor floor by their feet, made him frown. He slowed, approaching as quietly as possible and placed the toe of his boot over one of the tools. "You know you're risking someone running off with your stuff if you're not careful."

“They would be risking having their kneecaps broken if they ran off with my tools,” came a calm and steady voice from inside the duct. Something klanged, followed by a sigh as the engineer backed out of the tube, now holding a very obviously broken hunk of metal that used to be a bolt. “Changing air filters is not supposed to be this difficult,” she said passively.

"And if it's two or more, and they run in different directions? I don't know about you, but I can't run in two directions at once. I suppose if the thieves had very short legs, I might manage to break the knees on one and still catch the second." He leaned against the wall. "Not that it would happen, but it could."

“I would not chase them at once,” countered P’ril, rummaging in her pack for a replacement bolt. “I would check the security footage and track them down later.” Her tone was level and matter-of-fact and her face remained passive, there was a glint in her eyes that hinted at mirth.

"See, as a security officer, I can tell you we don't endorse vigilante justice. So we're not going to give you access to the footage. I mean, you're in Engineering, so you can probably get access without us giving it to you, but please don't. Breaking people's kneecaps would mean we'd have to take you into custody."

“Well, that thwarts that plan,” replied P’ril evenly, but she gave an air of disappointment all the same. “I suppose I will simply have to have a stern word with them instead.”

"Or you could not leave your tools in the position to be stolen." Anson shrugged and leaned against the wall. "My official suggestion as Assistant Chief Security Officer."

“I will take it into consideration,” P’ril replied, though they both knew she would not; engineers did not like to be told how to do their jobs. “Do you require assistance with anything or did you simply wish to hear a Vulcan explaining her chosen vengeance?” Again, her eyes betrayed the mirth that her voice and face did not.

"Well, I didn't know you were a Vulcan when I stopped. I could only see your rear end." Anson's brain caught up with his mouth. "That... That came out wrong. So very wrong."

The statement had such obviously innocent intentions that P’ril was caught off guard and a full on laugh escaped her mouth before she could catch herself. “Well, to be fair, I’m only half Vulcan,” she replied, the remnants of the laugh still on her face. “The bottom half must be the human half.”

Was it better or worse that'd he'd managed to make a Vulcan, or least half of one, laugh? Anson covered his burning face with one hand. He was possibly the most awkward human being ever. "I don't know how to respond to that. Everything I come up with seems worst than the last."

“By all means,” said P’ril, still half grinning, “say them. It has been a long time since someone made me laugh unexpectedly. I do not think I would mind it happening more often.”

Anson groaned. "I thought Vulcans were pacifists. You're trying to kill me with embarrassment before we've even been formally introduced. That does not seem right."

“That can be remedied,” replied P’ril, her even, controlled manner now fully restored. “I am Lieutenant Bronwyn P’ril. Most refer to me as P’ril, but I will answer to either name.”

"I notice you're not denying trying to kill me embarrassment," Anson said. "Lt. Anson Lee. These days, I will happily answer to either."

P’ril always wondered whether the things some humans said did not make sense to her because she was Vulcan or because they only made sense to them. Either way, she simply gave him a single slow not of respect. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lieutenant,” she said. “I shall not refer to you by any other name, in that case.”

"Not that I thought you'd call me something else," Anson hastened to explain. "More that I didn't really use my given name for a while. Not until I got promoted. 'Ensign Anson' managed to get old before the end of Graduation Day, you know? Lots of people think they're more clever than they actually are."

P’ril afforded him half a grin for half a moment. “Yes, I can see where that would be a problem,” she replied, several possibilities coming to mind at once- ensign ensign being the kindest and ensign Assman among the worst. “I am half human, after all.” Just because she would never say anything like that did not mean she wouldn’t think of it.

"It wasn't forever. And it was great motivation for getting promoted. So, yeah, Anson. Lee. Hey, you. It all works."

This guy was amusing. P’ril decided that she liked him. “Very well, then,” she said, tone as serious as possible. “I shall refer to you as hey you from now on.”

Anson grinned. He'd known Vulcans both at the Academy and Utopia Planitia. Even those who were only half Vulcan tended to have, at most, a very dry sense of humor. "Just don't get me confused with all the other hey you's out there."

She again afforded him that same half grin for half a moment. “That is highly unlikely,” she replied. “The only other hey yous I have met are not on this station.”

"I know I'm new, but I really doubt I'm the only hey you on the station. There's got to be at least one other one, right?" Anson thought it over. "I guess Lieutenant would stop any confusion on which on you meant."

“Lieutenant Hey You,” repeated P’ril, feigning careful consideration of the moniker. “Hm, yes. I expect most of the Hey Yous are ensigns. That should do nicely.”

"There could be civilian hey yous," Anson pointed out. "The Lieutenant thing will avoid any confusion with them, too, but it's important to not forget about them. Civilians are almost half the station population. That would be like forgetting four of your fingers."

“A fair point,” she admitted. “I would imagine a good deal of the civilians are Hey You. And I am certain I would not want all of them to answer every time I said it.”

"Glad we have that sorted out." Anson looked up and down the hall. "I should let you get back to work. If Engineering is anything like Security right now, you're probably swamped. But watch your tools. If they get stolen, I'll be the one laughing at you."

She gave him another half grin for half a moment. “Fair enough,” she replied. “I shall endeavor to take more care with them. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Hey You.”

"That's Lieutenant Hey You."

“Right, Lieutenant Hey You,” P’ril amended cheekily.

Anson gave a decisive nod before heading back down the corridor.


Lt. Bronwyn P’ril
Chief Engineer

Lt. Anson Lee
Asst. Chief of Security

 

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