Tinker Tailor Soldier...shy

Posted on 28 Dec 2025 @ 7:42pm by Lieutenant JG Aerie Mak
Edited on on 28 Dec 2025 @ 9:15pm

1,107 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: History
Location: USS Demeter
Timeline: 2385, December

USS Demeter, a nebula-class of an interchangeable mission pod, slid into casual warp leaving the Sol system. Battle-worn and scrappy, she glided along the corridor of speeding lights and floating space debris. Holding a crew complement of seven hundred and fifty crew, it became Mak's first real Starfleet service. Along its stark, tight corridor, a gentle cadence with a slight feminine accent carried.

Tinker Tailor Starfleet...

Several engineers crossed the corridor, going about their duties. They passed several officers and greeted each other, apparently not noticing the sweet, accented tone. If anything, their momentum carried the tune further along the sharp corners. It spilled into the access corridor where an ops workstation sat. Aerie Mak, a newly minted ensign, tapped on the console. Holding an isolinear chip, he studied the green glowing module. Kneeling before the open isolinear array of his assigned workstation, he placed it into the empty spot as the cadence carried again.

Tinker Tailor Starfleet...soldier

Silently, Mak pulled out his tricordor and scanned the chips arrayed. Checking for the ones out of sync, he pulled out another chip. Replacing the red one with the blue one, he resynced his workstation and scanned it. Pausing, he heard that tune as it broke the quietness again.

Tinker Tailor...

Curious, Mak narrowed his brows while closing the Isolinear array. He stood and approached the adjacent corridor, pausing as several officers crossed his path. His arms stretched sideways, his hands catching the sides of the doorway.The song drifted again, completing the beat.

soldier...sailor

She paused again. Mak looked around in the corridor, searching for where the rhyme came from. He recognized it, somehow. Not the song itself, but the beat. Something his sister once sang, or tapped rhythmically on his workshop surface waiting while he tinkered. His ridged nose wrinkled as he inclined his head downward, pulling himself into the corridor with his hands against the doorway. His muscles flexed as he stepped into the corridor. The song drifted again.

soldier...Tinker...Tailor Starfleet spy

Finding his way along the small corridor, he searched for the origin of the song. It continued but in short breaks and rhythmic pulses. Almost mechanical, but softer. Backing himself against the corridor, he allowed several more enlisted pass as he guided himself along the path with his hands along the walls. The different names stuck while other names repeated or became jumbled. The song ended for a few moments, but Mak continued walking, searching.

A small clatter came from another adjacent corridor, followed by an explicit curse as a female voice muttered, "Oh, dammit."

Pressing his hands against the doorway, he looked inside the room. Seeing no one, but a ladder leading up and a fallen hydrospanner on the floor, he paused, hearing the song again after a heavy sigh, "Tinker Tailor Starfleet...shy."

Cautiously, Mak moved his arm down as he lightly propelled himself through the doorway towards the hydrospanner. The unknown female vocalist continued as he crouched and picked up the object, "Tinker Tailor Starfleet sold- Oh! Hey."

Mak studied the spanner, turned it over and looked upward to see a ginger haired female halfway up along the ladder. She spoke, "Toss that up! I'm almost done fixing the hatch."

He hesitated, unsure. Starfleet still felt new to him, even if he spent the rest of his early adult years on New Bajor. Flipping the spanner the other side, he tossed it upward. She caught it, almost giggling, "Oh wow. You throw strong, Starfleet. Hang around for a bit."

She began humming, focused on her task. Mak moved forward toward the ladder. Leaning against it, he watched her work. Listening to her humming, he couldn't help but think of his sister's unique quirk. Her specific cadence as she waiting for Mak to finish his work while at his workstation on New Bajor. The ladder vibrated, startling Mak to the present as she spoke downward, "Coming down, Starfleet."

Mak quickly stepped a few paces back, subconsciously straightening up. His six feet one inch height naturally dwarfed the five feet seven inches tall female engineer as she settled herself onto the ground seamlessly, almost elegantly. She smiled, her ginger hair half messy and in a bun. Her tunic had smudges of engineer grease. Offering her hand, she replied in her accented English, "Come to think of it, I haven't seen you yet. Mel Taylor. Engineer's Mate! Call me Mel, or Taylor."

Mak noted two things, her enlisted petty officer third class rank and her greasy outstretched hand. Slightly amused, he accepted her handshake, "Aerie Mak. New ops officer."

Mel exhaled, pulling back her hand and looking at it. She wiped her greasy hand on her tunic, almost apologizing, "Sorry, sir. Didn't realize you're an officer. Hope you don't mind me dirty."

Mak shook his head, rubbing his newly greased hand. Rubbing it on his tunic, he replied, "That tune. What were you singing?"

Mel hesitated, inclining her head cautiously before replying, "Tinker Tailor? Just something I heard growing up. You know the rhyming? Tinker Tailor and whatever follows after."

She studied his reflexes and noticed the ridges on his nose. Immediately, she gasped, "Oh, you're Bajoran? And you don't know everything Earth? Stars, sorry. I forget not everyone grew up with the same vids.”

Mak shrugged, curious. "It's good. I recognize the beat."

She smiled, placing her hands on her hips and leaned backwards, stretching before replying, "It has a nice beat, huh? I picked up on it while working. It keeps me sane. So, what do you do for fun, Starfleet?"

Keeping his arms behind his back, he noted her new nickname for him with amusement. His sisters would tease him with that name and he didnt mind. Mak replied, "I occasionally tinker."

Mel smirked, her tongue pressing against the inside of her mouth. She replied, "So, you're ops and you occasionally tinker? Interesting. What else do I not know about you?"

Mak shrugged, looking upward toward the closed hatch of the tube. He focused his attention on her, "That comes later. What were you working on?"

Her curiosity in the new officer shifted to annoyance at the hatch she worked on. She exhaled, pulling out her hypospanner and offering it to him, "Just working on trying to repair the hatch. Some petty grunt crossed the wrong wiring and now it wont close properly. Wanna help?"

Mak looked at the offered hyperspanner. He nodded, accepting it as she grinned watching him grab the railing on the ladder and start climbing up. She pointed, "Careful, that last railing sticks."

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