Hostile work environment

Posted on Tue Nov 4th, 2025 @ 12:51pm by Commander Atna & Doctor Hlogun Sutulhar FRS, ScD, QSsD, FZMI

937 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: UnderMind [4]
Location: Daystrom Complex, Mars
Timeline: MD01 - 0220

It was later than most people usually worked in Daystrom Mars Dome #184, the site they were calling ‘Stargate Command’ amongst themselves, a name they learned from the history shared by the Tau’ri Alliance visitors from universe E-5 (U.E5), now dubbed ‘U.Tau’ri’. Among those who had the necessary clearance, holonovelised versions of their historical adventures were one of the most popular choices on the holodecks lately.

Atna ate alone in the mess hall, an economical meal of necessary proteins and fats, a deconstructed vegetarian burrito, in essence. Neutral and accomplishing every required macronutrient grade.

Sutulhar entered the room as though he expected to have it to himself, but his attention was immediately drawn to her. “Commander, fancy seeing you here. Congratulations again on the pip. The red collar becomes you. The hair, mmm, less so.” He said in his brash and voluminous way as he moved to the replicator, and got himself a plate of chicken cacciatore.

Atna did not respond, and continued silently to eat her meal in a measured way.

Sutulhar took the seat opposite her, lowering his tray gently onto the table. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about those numbers you got on the last test. How did you come to that? That’s gotta be a 10,000 to one guess even with all three of the deep cores working at it.” He didn’t usually express his admiration for others as an Elasian, he probably wouldn’t have done it were the room not empty.

“Improbability worked in our favour in this instance, it would seem.” Atna responded, before taking a drink from her cup of mineral water.

“You betcha.” His Irish-Elasian brogue and husky voice continued to carry throughout the room, despite her proximity and comparatively quieter tone. He grabbed one of his drumsticks by the sauce-free end and bit into it. “So what’s next? It’s like your two steps ahead on this thing everywhere we go with it.”

“To attempt such predictions would be illogical. I can only work with the information I am given.” She responded coldly.

“Yeah. But this is better than your usual work. I mean don’t get me wrong, you’ve always been good. Not Daystrom good, but very few are. And you’re only here because Janeway knows you’ve been in the weird end of all this multiversal jazz. Yet now you’re outperforming us. What’s your secret? Nanites? Telepathic inception? Katric grafting?” He asked before devouring the rest of the chicken from around the bone he held.

“You are accusing me of gaining advantage through deception.” Atna summised, as she finished another bite of her plate.

“Hey, you gotta do what you gotta do. I’ve been working on a little something myself, it’s not quite a nanite, but it’s not not a nanite, if you know what I mean. So come on, dish. We’re colleagues now, love. Gotta watch each other’s backs?”

“You wish to observe my rear?” Atna asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, not what I’m saying. But also not not true.” He said non-chalantly, taking another bite.

“And suppose I wish to observe your rear also?” She asked.

“Well I should caution that I don’t go in for back-door shenanigans. But quite happy to be observed, and observe in kind.” He said suggestively.

Anta nodded, and lowered her fork. She reached over to his plate and took one of the drumsticks out of the fragrant red sauce. She bit into it savagely, tearing her teeth around it until she had chewed and swallowed it all without coming up for air. Then she took another, and another.

As far as Hlogun was aware he was flirting with this woman, so he watched optimistically and remained as chill as confusion allowed.

When she had finished the last piece she took his beverage and drank it all hastily and with relish. She let out a deep belch. She wiped her saucy hands on his chest and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him over the table and throwing him to the ground behind her.

He tried to defend himself, but quicker than he could move she’d struck him with a neuropressure move that stilled him, but kept him conscious.

Her eyes flashed with golden light as she beheld him face to face, a predatory Vulcan state few saw outside witnesses to the plak’tow. “Who do you think you’re speaking to?” She asked in a voice that was not her own, deep and flanged.

“Atna.” He managed to get out.

“You mistake the slave for the master.” She struck him hard across the face with her fist.

“You insult your Queen.” She struck him again.

“But I will avenge myself upon you and your miserable kind, soon. Once I have taken what I need.” She struck him directly in the face, careful not to break anything. She leaned forward and put her hand against the neuropressure points adjacent to his face to allow a mind-meld.

“Forget.” She instructed once they were linked. She also took a peak through his mind, finding treasures she had not expected in one of these meagre beings. She replaced the memory of their interaction with a fabricated session of miserable binge drinking.

When she was done with him she performed a nerve pinch to render him unconscious and stood, knocking his tray off the table so that the remaining plate of sauce spilled on him.

When Hlogun woke up, he told himself he was never drinking again, which lasted until later that evening.

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