Now Museum, Now Mudon't (Cast Couldn't think of a better title)

Posted on Sun Jul 5th, 2026 @ 3:46am by Senior Chief Petty Officer Jadizon Enor & Lieutenant JG Katie Kellerman

Mission: Die Hard: Chimera Edition
Location: Station Museum
Timeline: Immediately after Echoes

Museums reminded Katie of her cousin Liesel's home: very beautiful, very cold, and you can't touch anything. The artwork they passed by, however, was vibrant and eye-catching, and it had Katie's eyes wide with wonder. One painting was a sunrise, but done in three hundred and sixty degrees, the colors all blending together. Another looked like random splotches until you let your eyes relax and a picture of a flower emerged.

She'd swapped her overly casual shirt for a button-down blouse and a short skirt. She still had her flats on, since they'd be walking, although that left her at a considerable height disadvantage with Jadizon next to her. Still, she appreciated the look of approval he gave her and the kiss on the cheek. She just hoped he was at least attempting to enjoy himself. "So, scale of one to ten, how bored am I making you?" she gave him a playful nudge.

Jadizon looked over at her as they walked, hands tucked into the pockets of the black jacket while his eyes drifted toward another abstract painting that looked like somebody had weaponized color.

He gave a thoughtful hum. “Mm. About a four.” At her offended look, he lifted a finger slightly.

“Now, before you protest, understand I’m making an effort here.” His tone shifted into an exaggerated Vulcan cadence. “Exposure to artistic interpretation and cultural refinement is a logical exercise intended to broaden one’s intellectual perspective.”

"Klugscheißer," Katie said under her breath, taking his hand.

He glanced toward a painting that looked like exploding paint across a black canvas. “…Though I suspect some of these artists are just committing crimes against symmetry and calling it emotional expression.” The faintest smirk pulled at his mouth before his attention settled back on her. “But you like it. Which means I like watching you like it... and if I complain too much, I’m fairly certain you’ll drag me to an even more educational exhibit out of spite.”

"Keep it up I'll drag you to one that doesn't even have color," she said. "There's beauty in a-symmetry, too," she said. "And sometimes it's about being complementary. Putting together two things that may not be symmetric, but fit well can be just as beautiful as two things that are symmetrical. Look at us. You're tall, I'm not; you're muscled, I'm a bit softer; you're a smartass, I'm open-minded." She stuck her tongue out at him and smiled. "Not symmetrical, but we complement each other, and that's good."

She pulled him down a corridor towards a series of sculptures, leaving the general crowd behind. "Come on. Let's see if we can find things less interpretive to entertain you."

Jadizon allowed himself to be pulled down the corridor, his expression remaining perfectly composed despite the fact that Katie was very clearly enjoying herself. “One correction,” he said, lifting a brow in the most painfully Vulcan way possible. “I am not a smartass. I am merely committed to providing accurate observations at moments when others are least prepared to receive them.” He glanced down at her, the faintest hint of amusement touching his mouth.

“And while your understanding of asymmetry is emotionally excessive, it is not entirely without merit. Vulcan philosophy does recognize balance as superior to rigid sameness. Two opposing forms can create stability, provided neither one is irrational enough to drag the other into a museum without sufficient warning.”

He looked ahead at the sculptures, then back at her. “In our case, I provide height, muscle, and disciplined logic. You provide enthusiasm, softness, and a dangerous willingness to weaponize art galleries.”

"You sound like my Vulcan quadmate from my first year at the Academy," Katie said, rolling her eyes, but trying not to laugh.

His brow lifted again. “A complementary structure. Unusual, but functional.” Then, after a beat, his tone shifted deeper, rougher, with a deliberately bad Klingon edge to it.

“A Klingon, of course, would say our bond is forged in glorious imbalance. You are small but fierce. I am large and burdened with superior judgment. Together, we would conquer this corridor and bring shame upon poorly labeled sculptures everywhere.”

He gave one of the nearby abstract pieces a suspicious glance. “Though even a Klingon would demand to know if that is art or the remains of an honorable accident.”

"That is fire-suppression canister," she said, "you smartass."

Then Jadizon leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice into a flat, mechanical rhythm, adding a series of rough clicks and distorted syllables that sounded like his best attempt at a Breen transmission.

“Chrrk-tk-krrr… vrrrnnn… asymmetry accepted.” He straightened, deadpan. “Roughly translated from Breen: ‘The short human female has made a compelling argument. Further resistance is inefficient.’”

His eyes softened just a little as he looked at her standing with her arms folded.

“So yes, Katie. We are not symmetrical. But we do fit.” A pause. “Which is fortunate. Because if I am forced into a museum with no color after this, I would prefer to suffer beside someone complementary.”

Katie rolled her eyes harder and grabbed his arm pulling him along. "You are such a pill," she said, but warmth in her voice. "C'mon." She pulled him into an empty gallery, mischief in her eyes. She started pulling him towards a back corner with a dividing wall and got as far as "and what exactly do you mean 'superior judgement. What exactly is wrong with my--" she stopped as they came around a corner, not realizing she'd pulled him into a closed area.

Jadizon let Katie pull him along, his expression calm and unimpressed. “I am not a pill,” he said dryly. “I am a measured dose of reason. Side effects may include irritation, improved judgment, and the occasional urge to argue with museum labels.” He was about to answer her question when they rounded the corner and stopped short.

The group in front of them didn't look like museum personnel. The group turned and looked at the couple with overt hostility. Katie immediately pressed against Jadizon and eyed them suspiciously. "Sorry," she said. "We made a wrong turn trying to find the gift shop...we should go."

His eyes moved over the group in front of them, taking in their posture, their hostility, and the very obvious fact that they were not museum staff. As Katie pressed against him, Jadizon shifted just enough to put himself between her and them. “Yes,” he said evenly, “the gift shop. We were looking for overpriced souvenirs, replicated candy, and perhaps a small sculpture that made slightly more sense than the last one.”

Then the weapons came up.

Jadizon sighed, more annoyed than afraid. “Of course.” Without looking away from the group, he said, “Katie, behind me.” A beat passed, and his brow lifted slightly. “And yes, before you ask, this is my superior judgment.”

Katie did as she was told, putting herself behind him. "Please don't get yourself shot," she said under her breath, concern in her voice. She moved to tap her combadge, but realized too late she wasn't wearing it. The movement wasn't lost on the men who looked generally displeased.

"Put your hands up where we can see them, and step into the room," one of the men said, his weapon pointed at Jadizon. "No sudden movements."

Jadizon lifted his hands slowly, palms open, his expression more irritated than afraid. “Not getting stunned was already part of my plan,” he murmured back to Katie. “I prefer my museums without live phaser demonstrations.” He stepped into the room as ordered, careful but not timid, keeping himself between Katie and the weapons.

“No sudden movements,” he repeated dryly. “A reasonable request, though it loses some elegance when paired with disruptors.” His eyes moved once across the room, counting exits, cover, and hands, before settling back on the man speaking.

“We are cooperating,” Jadizon said evenly. “So perhaps we can avoid turning this closed exhibit into a Starfleet Security investigation.”

Katie held her hands up as well, still somewhat behind Jadizon, but the gunman cleared his throat and gestured for her to step out where he could see her. She complied an made her eyes big and innocent. "Please, you can't do this. Art shouldn't be coveted, it should be shared with everyone. You can still walk away from this, and not risk any of these beautiful pieces. This is your people's culture, your heritage, your culture's very soul! You can't risk ruining it by stealing it."

The gunman stared at her a moment. "Are you done?"

Katie gave him an incredulous look and frowned. "Rude."

"We aren't robbing the museum," the man said, frankly. "We are trying to protect our world, and you are going to assist us. For now, sit down. If you do not cause problems, you will not be harmed. Now, sit. Please." He gestured to two chairs in a corner.

Jadizon kept his hands raised, then gave Katie a small, steady motion toward the chairs. “Sit down, Katie,” he said quietly. “Before your passion for cultural preservation gets us both stunned.”

She gave him an annoyed look but moved over and sat down in one of the chairs.

He moved with her, slow and deliberate, then sat where directed while keeping his eyes on the armed man. “We are Starfleet personnel, I'm Senior Chief Petty Officer Jadizon Enor, Chief of the Boat, USS Chimera. This is Lieutenant Katie Kellerman, also of the Chimera.”

"We know where you're from," the gunman said, gesturing for two of his cohorts to restrain them.

Jadizon's gaze moved briefly over the room, noting weapons, exits, spacing, and who seemed to be in charge. “You have our attention, but let me be clear. We will not help you commit theft, sabotage, or any other criminal act.” His voice stayed calm. “But if your world is actually in danger, then explain it. Who is the threat, what are they after, and why do you believe we are the answer?”

"The threat is our government, and we are going to persuade them to stop," the gunman said as his people geared up. "Excuse me." He turned his back to them once they were seated and spoke quietly to one of his people. The other woman nodded, rounded up the others and they headed out, leaving one man behind with their kidnapper.

"Now," the first man said, "we've disabled the communications net, and everyone's still enjoying their evening. Sit here, and do not cause trouble, and you can go back to your evening."

He handed his weapon over to his compatriot and left without another word. The other man sat down at a table, keeping his weapon within easy reach and got comfortable as he kept an eye on them.

Katie let out a breath. "Well," she said, quietly, "at least neither of us are shot."

"The night is young," the man said, a warning in his voice.

Katie swallowed her response. She glanced at Jadizon and gave a small shrug. Years rushing down a hockey field gave her some speed, but she couldn't outrun a gun. Not without a good distraction. "Can I...hold his hand?" she said, her voice sounding nervous.

The man looked at her, then Jadizon, and put his hand on his weapon. "Nothing funny."

Katie nodded and made an obvious show of opening her hand, showing it was empty, and putting it in Jadizon's. "You know," she said, her voice audible despite trying to whisper in Jadizon's ear, "I'd be lying if I said the adrenaline rush didn't have me a bit excited."

Jadizon took Katie’s hand, his fingers closing around hers with quiet reassurance. He did not look at her right away, but the slight pressure of his thumb against her hand said he understood what she was doing.

“Excitement is an unusual response to being detained,” he murmured, his tone dry but gentle. “Though given your history of dragging me into unpredictable situations, I should not be surprised.”

Then his attention returned to the guard, his voice calm and measured, not seeing Katie's jaw drop next to him.

“Your people believe they are protecting their world. I can respect the instinct, even if I disagree with the method.” Jadizon kept his posture relaxed, careful not to provoke him. “But Starfleet cannot help you if we are kept in the dark. If your government is the threat, then tell us why. What have they done? What are your people trying to stop?”

He glanced briefly toward the doorway where the others had gone.

“Because if this is truly about preventing harm, then the more we understand, the better chance there is that this ends without anyone getting stunned, arrested, or killed.”

"What do you care? Your people don't even have a--"

"I drag you into unpredictable situations?" Katie said, interrupting the guard, holding a hand up for him to be quiet. "Hold the fucking comm channel here, kerl," she said, looking back at Jadizon. "For the last month, our wildest adventure has been testing the soundproofing in my quarters. I ask you to join me for one evening of culture and clothes-on entertainment and I dragged you? How? By telling you to get off your ass and live a little? Well, excuse the fuck out of me!"

Their guard's eyes narrowed and he stood up, coming around the table. "If this is some kind of--"

"Shut the fuck up! When I want your help to shoot him, I will fucking ask for it!" Katie snarled, jumping to her feet and turning her back on the completely stunned guard to glare at Jadizon. "I do nothing but try to be a good girlfriend and you can't even give me one night where you aren't complaining? Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?"
Jadizon looked at Katie just long enough to catch what she was doing.

She was creating an opening. So he gave her the performance she needed.

“Katie,” he said, sounding offended enough to make it believable. “I did not say you dragged me. I said every time I follow you somewhere, somehow the evening turns into a survival drill with better lighting.”

"You literally said I dragged you!" she said, her voice going up both in volume and pitch. "You said it earlier, too!"

The guard stepped closer, clearly caught between stopping the argument and figuring out if it was real.

“And for the record,” Jadizon continued, his voice rising. “I was having a nice night. I wore the clothes. I looked at the sculptures. I even kept quiet about the one that looked like a burned-out impulse relay.”

"Right, even though your boredom level was 'only a four'," she said, making quotation fingers. She stepped closer, hand poised to give him a slap.

The guard moved in fast, reaching to separate them.

Jadizon moved faster.

The first punch came from the guard, catching Jadizon across the jaw enough to turn his head. Jadizon absorbed it, stepped inside the man’s reach, and fired back with a short punch to the ribs. The guard swung again, but Jadizon caught the weapon arm, twisted into him, and drove his shoulder hard into the man’s chest.

The disruptor snapped upward and fired wild, burning a sharp scar across the ceiling.

Jadizon trapped the man’s wrist, turned under the arm, and forced him into a hard arm-bar takedown. The guard hit the floor with a heavy thud, still trying to fight. Jadizon gave him one chance to stop.

He did not take it.

Jadizon drove one clean strike across the side of the man’s jaw, and the guard went still.

For a second, there was only the hum of damaged lighting and the faint smell of scorched ceiling panel.

Jadizon stood, breathing a little harder, jaw already reddening from the punch. He glanced down at the unconscious guard, then back at Katie as if the interruption had merely been rude, not dangerous.

“Now,” he said, straightening his jacket, “where were we?”

He stepped closer to her, his voice lowering back to normal.

“Oh, right. You were accusing me of not appreciating date night.”

He gave her a pointed look, though there was warmth under it.

“For the record, I was enjoying myself. The art was terrible, the company was not, and I was absolutely living a little.”

Jadizon glanced once toward the door, then back to her.

“But next time, Katie, I pick the restaurant.”

"Deal," she said, jumping up and kissing him before ducking down and scooping up the guard's weapon. She tossed it to him and walked over to a closet, looking inside. She didn't see much other than cleaning supplies, so she grabbed a mop and unscrewed the head of it, swinging it around experimentally before holding it confidently like a hockey stick. "Let's see if six years of softball and field hockey will pay off," she said, looking back at Jadizon. "What now?"

Jadizon caught the disruptor, checked the setting, then gave Katie and her mop handle a long look.

“You know,” he said, still catching his breath, “most people pick up a chair leg. You found the one thing in the room that makes you look like you’re about to defend a championship.”

Katie grinned, hefting her new favorite stick. "Thank you," she said sweetly.

He glanced down at the unconscious guard, then tapped the disruptor against his palm.

“First, we keep him quiet. Second, we find out where his friends went. Third, we get a message to the Chimera before their little government persuasion tour turns into a planetary incident.”

He stepped over to the guard and quickly checked him for a communicator, access card, or anything useful.

“They said they disabled the communications net, not every local system in the building. Museums love internal security. Cameras, door controls, emergency alerts.” Jadizon looked back at Katie. “We find a terminal, I can probably get a signal out or at least see where the others are headed.”

She nodded. "All right. If we can avoid the more populated areas, we'll probably find something overlooked." She hefted her weapon and watched the door carefully.

His eyes dropped to the mop handle again, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

“And Katie?”

She turned and looked at him, an eyebrow raised.

He raised the disruptor slightly.

“Try not to start a fight with anyone carrying something stronger than that unless I’m standing close enough to cheat.”

She smirked. "Aye, Chief. But if they get in my way? No promises I won't knock a few teeth loose." She nodded to the guard. "Get him tied and let's get out of here."

Jadizon gave Katie a look, then glanced at the mop handle in her hands.

“Somehow, I believe every word of that.”

He crouched beside the unconscious guard and moved fast. Communicator, access chip, spare restraint key, all of it came off the man and into Jadizon’s hands. He used the restraints to secure him behind one of the heavier display fixtures, then checked his pulse.

“He’ll live,” Jadizon said, standing. “He may rethink his life choices, but that is between him and whatever passes for counseling on this planet.”

He checked the disruptor setting and kept it low at his side.

“We move. Quietly.”

The hallway outside was clear, but the distant sound of the gala still carried through the museum. Music. Laughter. Voices. People enjoying themselves while half the building had quietly turned into a hostage situation.

Jadizon did not like that at all.

He motioned Katie forward and kept them close to the wall, moving past closed exhibits and darkened display cases. Twice, he stopped them short, listening as footsteps passed somewhere nearby. Each time, he waited, counted the steps, then moved again.

Near the end of the corridor, a small door marked in the local language caught his eye. He tested the access chip against the panel. The lock flashed once, then opened with a soft click.

“Maintenance access,” he said quietly. “Not glamorous, but neither is saving the day with a mop handle.”

Inside was a cramped service room with cleaning supplies, environmental controls, and a wall-mounted computer terminal glowing dimly in standby mode.

Jadizon stepped to it, slotted the access chip, and began working through the system.

“Come on,” he muttered. “Show me what they did.”

The terminal flickered, then brought up a museum security grid. Several sections were dark. External communications were down, but internal systems were still active.

Jadizon’s eyes narrowed.

“They cut the building off from the outside, but they did not kill the local network.” He looked back at Katie, a small smile forming despite the situation. “That was careless.”

A security map appeared on the screen. Red indicators moved through the museum toward the government annex connected to the rear of the complex.

Jadizon’s smile faded.

“There they are,” he said. “And they are not headed for the gift shop.”