[ USS Theurgy | Junior Officer Quarters -> Below Decks | 0900 hrs. ]
Rawley had never been one to take long sonic-showers, but after three weeks in different recovery wards - with some flying in-between sessions - this would be her first exception in a while.
Technically, she hand not been given her medical clearance by Dr. Nicander, but after Miles dismissed them and wanted them to entertain their brooding guests from the Harbinger, Evelyn was not about to disobey orders. Miles had ordered her to fly, so she was not going to interpret that as if she was supposed to head back to Sickbay afterwards. Since she had been naked underneath her flight suit, she wore it all the way to her quarters and shed it unceremoniously on the floor before stepping into the shower.
The nose-bleeding that she had got in the cockpit was nothing, and the taste of blood in her mouth had receded. Rather, she was sore from bed rest and exercise techniques, but she took the opportunity of stretching out her limbs whilst bathing in the sonic pulses. She managed to get all the cranks and nooks out of her neck, and there were several audible pops from her upper back. Fuck the doctors, she was ready to partake in life again.
Having thrown on a loose white shirt with the Lone Wolves emblem on it, added with her flight jacket, loose, grey sweatpants and boots, she headed to Below Decks to meet up with the others. The corridors of the Theurgy were bristling with activity, yet she had no skills to add to her flying that would benefit other departments, and as the heavy dual doors parted ways to reveal the busy lounge, Rawley immediately felt certain eyes falling upon her with curiosity. It had been many and long days since she'd visited Below Decks.
"Hide your scotch people, she walks again," she said and gave some of the Wolves nearby a lopsided grin as she walked through the establishment. She could see the Harbinger pilots there too. Titan, Riptor and Smoke being three of them that she knew of. Phantom, the half-faced Wing Commander, was sitting at a table in the far corner - nursing a glass while still in flight gear.
"I will have whatever you got. I am not fucking picky tonight," she told the bartender as she propped herself up on a stool, raking her hand over her shaven head.
OOC: I would imagine the slightly tipsy Rory Callahan to be here at this point besides all the pilots. You may NPC the Harbinger pilots in any way you want, and the only established fact about either of them is that Riptor is bearded. I will play Phantom as required if anyone dares approach him.... ;)
(https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jAoYKkSrI9E/URQ30zlbcdI/AAAAAAAABsc/nM6MyeBYcbg/s326/rory_05.png)Rory Callahan - Civilian Celebrity/Bartender
Only after someone had finally glanced in the box and realized Rory was walking around with bottles of liquor was he finally given hasty directions to Below Decks and his long legs took him to the nearest turbolift where he told it which deck. The doors closed and the lift began to drop, giving his already slightly off equilibrium a nudge which sent him tottering to the side until his shoulder bumped against the wall.
"Sheesh ye'd think I was a cheap drunk," he muttered then peered down into the box, smiling when he saw a good brand of Irish whiskey. "I'll need t' toast m'self fer not endin' up cov'red in lava. Can' say th' same 'bout the ash though." Most of the soot had shaken off of him when he fell off the transporter pad but he was still downright filthy. "Ah need a bath somethin' fierce. Don' think she'd much appreciate m' looks ... an' smell right now."
He thought of her eyes and one corner of his mouth quirked up. "Like th' sky they are," he muttered as the doors hissed open and he lumbered along, dodging a few fast moving people. Well, they dodged him while he banged up against the walls and muttered apologies. Finally he found his way into what looked like a bar. "Aha! If this ain' it, I'll tell 'em to make it ... it," he said, brow furrowing slightly as he almost confused himself in his excitement.
Sure enough there were bottles behind the counter and he sat the box down, again with extreme care. "Alright now me pretties. Time t' put ye where ye belong." He mourned the other box he'd had to leave behind but fairly quickly had the rest of the bottles put with the main supply. Clapping his hands together and then rubbing his palms against each other, he looked around and tried to acclimate himself. "So ... sterile ... no ... personality," he muttered.
He'd just found the glasses when several people entered, looking at him like he was crazy. "You're the bartender from our ship. What're you doing over here?" It was the big pilot Rory recognized, name was something that started with a T which came to him as Rory wagged a finger at the guy. "Titan! Yeah I dunno really. I sorta got lost down there an' they did that beam thingie and poof I'm here. Well, on the ship. Took me fookin' forever t' find this spot."
Given the looks of them, he went ahead and set out several shot glasses and had pulled up a bottle of Wild Turkey which made him groan. "Tha's nothin' but ..." A harsh female voice broke through his words and thoughts, a bald woman who looked like she'd been through every version of hell that had ever been described. "Hide your scotch people, she walks again ..." Then she said she'd take whatever but he shook his head.
"What the lady wants ... the lady gets," he stated, still slurring his words slightly but he bent down and nabbed a big bottle of scotch and poured the shot glass full. "Got a feelin' yer gonna say keep 'em comin'," he stated with a lopsided grin and flicked his sooty bangs to the side. "Gentlemen, seems they actu'lly got a better selection here so what'll it be?" When he got the orders, he rolled out the drinks and almost made one for himself but decided he might should refrain for a while.
A few minutes later Thomas Ravon walked in on the below decks after taking a long yet satisfying shower. His eyes scanned through the area and he instantly realised they now had an actual bartender again. He couldn't help but grin a bit as he saw Rawley already jugging down shots and he knew she'd probably switch to the bottle in a few without the bartender actually having a say to it. He also recognised the group of Harbinger pilots sitting in their group and not far further lurked the Phantom. The man still managed to sent shudders down Thomas his spine while he took his place by the bar and placed his order.
He hadn't spotted the rest of his fighter squadron yet and he wondered what they were all up to. "Rawley, I see you're making yourself right at home again." he said as he got a drink handed to him by Rory and he jugged it down in one go and his face pulled together by the harsh taste of the scotch. "Any idea where the rest of our wolves are?" He asked her now and asked for a refill. His eyes went over Rawley now to see how badly in shape she was. Though considering what they had been through she looked to manage just fine. His attention now turned to Rory as his eyes went over his face and he could swear he recognised the man from somewhere. "Bartender, is it just me or do I know you from somewhere?" he asked now as he placed the next shot against his lips and let the cold yet burning tasty liquid down his throat.
The Bartender was damn right Rawley was going to ask them to keep comin'. She flashed the blonde guy a grin in answer and chugged the shot with complete relish for the taste - the burn finally making her feel alive after her extended medical care. Her thoughts went to her uncle Haldane back on Earth, who had made her acquire a taste for the smoky mingle malt bottles he'd stored at home. She had been... barely old enough to be allowed to taste them. Admittedly, she had tasted them before that without his knowledge of it. Then again, he had not been too happy when he discovered that she had watered out one of his 25-year old Glendronach bottles from the year 1968...
While reminicing, and nursing her refilled glass, she did not notice Ravon approaching. His words made her chuckle and swivel about on her bar stool to face him. "Indeed, Below Decks is my second home aboard, the first being the cockpit. I'll only sleep in in my own bed if I have a slow night, or the doctor says my pelvis cannot take the pounding, if you know what I mean?"
The last as a lie, of course. She had never cared what her doctors told her. She threw back another shot and slammed the glass down on the bar-counter. "The pack? They are around here somewhere. A few are back there, and I thought I saw Nightmare chatting up Smoke from the Harbinger when I walked in. Seemed she had none for it since they parted ways."
When Thomas addressed the new bartender, Rawley also thought she recognised him from somewhere, and she narrowed her eyes in thought, trying to place where she had last seen such hair on a man. It had been back in San Francisco, during the brief shore-leave they'd had before all hell broke loose and they had to flee. It has been on some bloody poster in the docking area...
"Hey," she said swivelling about to face the Irish guy, "Are you the guy from that remade Celtic Thunder band? One of them who were chosen because you were the spittin' image of one of the original band members? Like a Keith Harkin look-alike? I have heard your songs and you sound nothing like him."
She paused there, only to lean forward and slap his shoulder in jest. "You sound even better. How the fuck did you end up in this mess?" Yet before there was time for any answer, a looming shadow of a tall bearded man with half a face fell over the bar counter.
Wordlessly, Phantom stepped around behind the counter, his single functioning eye seeking a drawer next to Rory. Slowly, he leaned down and used a key that Miles Renard had given him in the Flight Hangar to open it. After he did, he left the drawer open, only taking a bottle from the storage and walking away again. If he even noticed the people present, there was no sign of the barest of nods in greeting. He merely withdrew the bottle from the stash and walked away towards his place in the corner.
"If I looked like that," said Rawley quietly and poured herself another shot, "I'd get more than one bottle."
The door to below decks opened as Miles stepped through still in his duty uniform but barefoot and in his more animalistic form. he walked over to where Rawley was talking to the bartender. "Good to see you're making yourself at home." he said to rawley before turning to the bartender, "By the way that drawer that phantom opened up. there should be a key hidden blow the 4th bottle to the left in on the middle shelf in the synthahol cabinet. Its usually reserved for the wolves and its my personal stash, nothing synthetic in there, and don't worry I have a crate to refill it with in the cargo bay just tell me when its running low. Most of its from earth but there's a few things more exotic in there. Help yourself to a bottle of your choice. Barkeep. Least I can do to welcome you to Below Decks. Here's hoping you'll stay here instead of going back to that Akira class." He said before getting up and heading towards the table where Phantom was seated.
"Oh boy" he thought, to himself as he approached the scarred fellow Squadron Commander and took a nearby seat. "Sorry bout all the delays on getting your fighters degunked but sten's a little short on manpower for the extreme workload at the moment. Best projection it looks like the bay chief can give me is at current manpower of his department I think he estimated two at barely space-worthy by end of tomorrow. If your pilots can be spared to help out on their own fighters I am sure we can bump that estimate up to at least half your squadron space-worthy by tomorrow if not all of them. I don't know how things are ran on the Harbinger or if your pilots even touch their crafts in the bay; Hell for all I know they might be the main mechanics on their ships. Just giving you the heads up that it looks like with all the shit the engines sucked up the bay crew is gonna be spread too thin to get any progress made unless us white-shirts roll up our sleeves and help em out. Needless to say I'm also gonna be requesting some additional manpower from engineering to join the mechanics but I doubt there will be many men to spare given all the other ship damage there is to work on." He looked around not knowing how the other commander would react to his words. "Sorry if that isn't what you wanted to hear but I figured you at least deserved to know the truth bout the prognosis on your birds."
The panorama monitors along the wall had been repaired on Theta Eridani IV. They were showing the the edge of the KNZ as they slowly moved towards it, even if the lounge was nowhere near the outer hull of the starship. Yet Kilinvoss knew not of the recent repair of the monitors, he just thought it a bloody fancy to have some hull cameras give the crew a pretty view while they drank their Earth swill. This fancy prima-donna of a baseship was not his own, and it was not right with him that he and his squadron was caught on the wrong one. He tongued his teeth to clear them from the taste, wishing they had a bottle of Kanar hidden someplace else behind that bar counter.
Turning his head slightly when the Vulpinian approached his table, the light of the moving stars streamed across the scar tissue that covered the majority of Phantom's countenance. His mismatched eyes - one lidless and monstrous and the other keen an piercing - both stared upon the Theurgy's SCO has he spoke of requirements and needs that were to be placed upon his pilots - no comment coming from him until the thick silence returned to linger in his corner of the lounge.
"Correct," he rasped, his damaged throat reverberating with the natural growl of the word before he bit it off. As his teeth clenched together, the white showed through the sinewy hole in his cheek and the muscles of his jaw shifted as they flexed. "You do not know the Harbinger. You do not know my pilots. You do not know me. I am pleased that you do not presume that you do."
Phantom lifted his glass and drank, and he tilted his head ever so slightly to keep the cloyingly sweet excuse of a drink from pouring through his teeth. To rain down on the virgin white table. Slowly, he put the glass down again and looked back towards the freshling squad leader, shifting his seat a little. As if to let the whelp know a little secret about life, even if he knew the Vulpinian was older than himself.
"A word of advice to you and your Chief of the Deck," he scraped like a corroded blade digging into flesh, his damaged eye like a milky moon in the dim light. "I would not make the shuttle bays any priority over our Valkyries being ready. What good will shuttles do us when she returns?"
There was no doubt as to who 'she' was.
"If the personnel in your hangar are inferior to the task, we will gladly set an example. Perhaps you will learn something." Phantom finished his drink then, and tipped the empty glass over on the table with his hand. He stood up slowly, his presence filling the lounge more than the fact of his body. "Titan. Smoke. With me. We will doing maintenance in shifts henceforth. Riptor, you will ensure that the rest of the Dor'GhItlh squadron relieves us in four hours. If you can find a decent bottle of Kanar here... save a glass for me."
Then he walked out, two of his pilots following in his wake.
Miles thought aloud to himself in reaction to the other SCO's words, "so, it's a challenge, better warn Zero then." He sighed as he looked over to the one called Riptor, and approached him "Cargo bay 2, smallish cube crate bout a foot on each side. Storage number on it should begin with Q. There's only 2 bottles missing in one of them and the other two are full. Bastard Ferengi on DS9 tricked me said he had three cases of assorted drinks from across the alpha and beta quadrant. Didn't tell me they were just different varieties of Kanar that he couldn't unload on anyone else. Just take a whole case. I'm sure no one in my squad'll miss the stuff."
He began to walk back to where Rawley and Ravon were as he tapped his com badge. "Sten, Phantom and two of his squad are heading to the bay now. The rest of their squad will be relieving them in 4 hours. Hope you can handle the help. Renard out."
He took a seat at one of the tables nearest to the bar and spoke up. "Ranger, Razor, Come over here and have a seat seems there is an item of shared interest between the two of you to discuss. I think you both know which item that is."
(https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jAoYKkSrI9E/URQ30zlbcdI/AAAAAAAABsc/nM6MyeBYcbg/s326/rory_05.png)Rory Callahan - Civilian Celebrity/Bartender
A few on the Harbinger had known who Rory was but no one had been as enthusiastic in pointing him out, making the pale skinned guy blush. He was about to say something when Phantom walked around and started using a key to open a drawer. Figuring if he had a key he was supposed to be there so shrugged and turned back to the two pilots awaiting an answer.
He paused again as Rawley talked about the looks of Phantom but being a gentleman he didn't suggest her a second bottle. He might bit overly tipsy but he wasn't drunk enough to bring up her own scars and that her speech was not quite feminine or rosey. He grinned a bit sheepishly as Rawley banged on his shoulder, somehow managing to not stumble to the side from her exuberant gesture.
"Actually I found out I'm outta the Harkin line once I got th' job," he stated candidly, not taking any offense at all. "As fer how I ended up in this mess ... just sheer dumb luck ... or curse I should say. Last thing you all need is a singin' fool who don' know anythin' 'bout bein' on a starship." He would have said more but a dog-man called out to the two and he sent them over with the bottle and an extra shot glass then went to wiping off the counter.
(https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-4c5yQSTTIyE/T_dYxFndtDI/AAAAAAAABKU/Risd3olk77g/s326/Skye_09.png) Ensign Skye "Kestrel" Carver - Wolf 02
Skye had taken extra time in the shower and then a little more time doing a little something to curl her hair and fix it to where it was partially up but still had plenty of the length curving around her shoulders and back. The black top hung just off her shoulders and had cut-outs to show off her moderate cleavage and was cropped off not far under those breasts to show her well-defined abs.
A matching skirt snugged over the gluts she was proud of and continued hugging her down to about mid-thigh where a small strip of golden skin could be seen between the hem and the lacy tops of her black stockings. High heeled ankle boots were a shiny black with silver studs matching the studded leather choker that adorned her neck. When off duty, she enjoyed dressing up a bit.
She was just about to step inside Below Decks when the door hissed open and Big and Ugly stomped through with two of his men in tow. "Leaving the party already Gentlemen? You should come back. The fun's about to start," she said in a friendly way with a playful wink. The captain was hoping to ease things between the two groups and she'd do her part but they continued on their way.
She watched them leave, sucking on the inside of her cheek and shaking her head. Stepping through the door, she saw Ravon with Rawley again and both of them sitting with Miles. There were a few of their own pilots there, Nightmare and Maverick seemed to have paired up a bit and while a few others were there she felt a little disappointed. "Jim Beam straight up," she requested and Rory gave a nod, drawing up a double shot for her and leaving the bottle.
Hearing his SCO raise his voice and call them to his table made Thomas smirk a bit as he patted Rawley at the back of her shoulder as if he tried to encourage her to not keep the man waiting. Taking his drink along to the table he sat down to the right side of Miles and sat down with a light thud on the chair. Looking at Rawley as she made her way to the table as well now, Thomas waited till the company was complete and asked on a curious tone "Are we talking about that Reaver that we shot down and reclaimed on Theta?" His eyes moving from Miles to Rawley. He knew Rawley had flight experience with the thing, yet she'd be a wreck probably to fly the shuttle around. It had been a call he had to make on Theta as they were in the midst of chaos.
Hearing the door slide open, Thomas looked over his shoulder now and was blown away a bit by the entrance of Skye. His eyes scoped her out steadily as he noticed the change in her hair. What came next was just mind blowing, the top and skirt seemed to be poured over her body to fit perfectly and the boots were just a good match. Thomas couldn't help but grin and he bit his lower lip as he called her out "Darn Skye, even when I thought things couldn't get any hotter than our evac on Theta... You just proved me wrong once more."
Miles nodded hearing Ravon's guess. "Correct, and I came here to let you both in on the decision I have reached at the advisement of our Bay Chief. First of all, until further notice the ship's designation is Wolf Zero and is Papa Bear's fighter. As such until further notice it is not a craft for use in battle but an experimental prototype for study and observation. Because of its role as a non combat craft It is relegated as a tertiary objective regarding Fighter bay repair priorities. Primary objectives being The Mark Three's and secondary objectives being The deck itself and The Mark-Two's. As for the entire squadron we are temporarily grounded for reason of an obvious need to repair the Valks and Sten's Bay that we dinged the hell out of our rough landings. Our new mission effective whenever you feel you are ready to get on it, but no later than 1200 hours tomorrow is repair duties in the bay."
He paused a moment letting them absorb the barrage of information. "Now here's the part that I am guessing the both of you are really interested to hear. Once all primary and secondary repairs are completed. You two are assigned to work directly with Papa Bear in getting that Reaver looking and operating like it just came off the Showroom floor. Once its operational If Sten wants someone to Put it through its paces in test flights I will strongly suggest that if he feel that it needs a Fighter pilot's touch to do some aspects of test flight then he have the two of you as the the two test pilots for it once we are deemed clear to launch routine sorties again. Frankly I want the two of you working together on this one But as far as the Reaver goes, Sten is the boss and you two take orders from him regarding that ship. Aside from that ship. you will have your usual duties of course once we return to flight schedules."
By the way, Ranger, I think medical has been trying to get me to tell you to go back to the sickbay or something. I'll deal with medical when I have to, but till then assume you have been cleared. You're back on duty unless I say otherwise If medical asks you to come in please ask them to direct their inquiries on your duty schedule to your immediate superior which is myself. At the very least this should buy you a day out of sickbay."
"So, The two of you have any questions about your assignments?" He said right before pouring a shot from Ranger's bottle then downing it clearly Glad to get all the crap he had to tell them out of the way.
(https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-4c5yQSTTIyE/T_dYxFndtDI/AAAAAAAABKU/Risd3olk77g/s326/Skye_09.png) Ensign Skye "Kestrel" Carver - Wolf 02
Turning at the sound of Ravon's voice, Skye saluted him with her drink but didn't say anything in return or join them as Miles seemed to continue talking and there was a very serious look to his furry face. She didn't know what was going on with the three of them but it looked like work, which was not why she was here. Rather than slamming back the shot she took a sip and let it roll over her tongue, enjoying the stinging sensation it created.
Her mind drifted a bit as she savored her drink, wondering how Lin Kae was doing. There had been so many injured but she hoped he'd been on the ship rather than on the ground. He was a lot tougher than his sweet face led people to believe and she found herself missing him quite a bit. He was a friend, granted he'd been more than a friend, but she knew his heart lay elsewhere and she also knew they worked best as friends.
"Penny for yer thoughts ..." Rory said as he noticed her staring at the bottles he was lining up for view, trying to give it more of a true bar look.
(https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jAoYKkSrI9E/URQ30zlbcdI/AAAAAAAABsc/nM6MyeBYcbg/s326/rory_05.png)Rory Callahan - Civilian Celebrity/Bartender
Skye blinked and looked at him, chuckling a bit. "Not many know the old Earth sayings. I was just wondering about a friend, hoping he's okay after all this mess. Looks like you were out in it yourself. If you'd like to go clean up, I can watch the bar for you for a little bit."
Not even the ash could hide the blush on Rory's face and he glanced down at himself. "Sadly I've nowhere t' go. Don' have a room or clothes to change into. All m' stuff's over on the Harbinger so I'm waitin' t' see if they send me back over. I'd like t' stay here if I could though. Ye all seem a lot friendlier t' me. So who's the lucky guy?"
Skye snickered and took another drink. "Just a friend, but a dear friend," she replied. "I'll tell you what, if someone doesn't come along soon and help you out, I'll take you by the quartermaster for some clothes and you can use my shower." Suddenly she downed the double shot and poured herself another but didn't drink immediately.
The words were like an echo of the past and Skye felt that stab in her heart again. Scosche had been in worse condition but it seemed she was picking up another stray. No. He can use my shower and I'll help him get clothes but I can't do that again she told herself sternly.
Rory brightened a bit, that dimple in his cheek deepening. "I'd appreciate that. There's a pretty lady in yer crew an' I wouldn' mind lookin' and smellin' clean if I could see her again. It's kinda embarrassin' but I saw some in worse shape than me."
Skye's smile returned and she took a sip in relief. He was smitten with someone else and that was fine and dandy. "Well as soon as we can get someone to step behind the bar for a bit, we'll get you spiffed up and ready to woo your sweet lady," she promised.
The information barrage given by Miles made Thomas feel like his brain could use some downtime as he all tried to keep it in and process it. On normal days this wouldn't be a problem, yet after Theta and the stand off with the Acheron task force Thomas felt tired and in need of some rest. Yet of course he wouldn't show this to his SCO and certainly not to Rawley. "So grounded for repair duties and after that we're on prototype repair." He summarized it as he smiled and down his drink "Plus our daily routines on top of that. Sounds like we've got ourselves a plan." He smiled now to Rawley and Miles. "No questions involving our assignments, I do want to know when we'll manage to stretch our wings again sir." He said to Miles now and now and then, his eyes lingered over to Skye at the bar. He wanted to wrap things up here as she seemed to be sunken in thoughts for a while before the barkeep brought her out of it.
When this Rory Callahan had said that they wouldn't need a singing fool, Rawley had been about to say the contrary, but Miles came by her and Ravon and begged to speak of duty matters. She had just had time for a shrug and pick up her glass before she went to the table. She had just been smiling ruefully when she seated herself and began to listen, feeling good to be alive and kicking and able to discuss duty matter at all.
At the mentioning of the Reaver, Rawley nodded slowly as she sipped her scotch, both elbows on the table. "Makes sense, Fox. Looking forward to it," she said and cleaned her teeth with her tongue, glancing about the Lounge to spot Nightmare seemingly telling a joke and getting her table laughing. They were in the at the far corner of the large lounge area, having retreated from the bar. All besides Skye Carver. At this point, more Lone Wolves entered, undoubtedly having spent some time showering just like Rawley had. Miles was speaking of her medical status, though, so her eyes were drawn from the new group.
"Good to hear, c'mmandr," she said with a smirk, not about to return to Sickbay anyway soon if she had a say in the bloody matter. "Will gladly be sending them your way if they come fucking bothering me. Nicander can try and bite my ass as all he wants, I'll just stick your tail there instead. Gotcha, thanks, Fox."
Her eye caught one of the newly arrived pilots, and she saw it was Oracle.
They had not spoken since she'd returned from the dead and visited her in Sickbay, where they'd had a bit of a scene. Hurt to think about it. Oracle had expected her to be the same as before, when the halfblood Betazoid went MIA. But since Soo had vanished, nothing had been the same, and that she'd expect her to just revert and had made Rawley loose it. She regretted most of what she'd said, but not all. Not enough to just go aplogise. She sure looked fine, though, white headphones and a red t-shirt huggin' her...
...questions about your assigmnents?
"No, Fox, all clear," said Rawley and ripped her eyes away from Soo to look down into her glass, throwing back what was left there before standing up. "I'll be elsewhere. Tired as fuck. Don't wanna give any credence to Nicander's claim that I should return, so I'll chill tonight. So long, fuckers."
She walked towards the exit, not about to say that she did not want to be in the same room as Oracle lest she had to. She really wanted some more scotch, but it at the price of Oracle trying to approach her again. When the sliding doors shut behind her, Rawley spat on the floor and cursed under her breath. "Real constructive, Evelyn. Fucking fool."
Yet she didn't stop walking towards the turbolifts.
After saying goodbye to Miles and getting the rest of the info that he needed, Thomas stood up from the table and looked at Rawley walk off. He noticed Soo young and the rest of the wolves scattered. Most of them seemed to be in the fun lounge with Nightmare and Thomas walked over to the bar and sat down besides Skye. He looked at her for a few seconds before looking back at Rory "Fill me up again if you please." He said with a faint smile and looked at his empty shotglass.
"And give this girl another one on me." He said more smirking now as he tapped Skye on the arm. "What's up? You look like you're in the zone?" He looked at her a bit concerned as he waited for Rory to fill them up again. It had been a weird feeling to have grown so close to this crew in such a short period of time. Skye was one of the pilots that had grown on him, together with Rawley. Yet The reasons why both had grown more on him were totally different.
Miles shrugged as he saw Rawley walk off seeming upset over something, 'What bug crawled up her ass all of a sudden?' he thought to himself though his attention was diverted when he saw Oracle again. He raised a hand to where she was and signaled her over to him knowing over the growing Din of the room a non verbal invitation might be more effective. To add to the enticement though he held up a bottle of scotch that Rawley had left promising to himself that he would make sure Ranger would be compensated for her "donation"
He waited a moment for Oracle to arrive at his table and smiled softly. "Just the person I was hoping to see tonight, I'm a bit surprised Rawley up and left though. I figured that if she was gonna find it in herself to leave the drink it would be only because you would be dragging her away to your quarters for a bit of informal flight debriefing exercises."
Before spotting Miles, Soo Young Seung had spotted Rawley leaving Below Decks, and the sight of the retreating back had caused the headphones wearing pilot some regret. And at the same time, some indignant anger that she would be regretful because Rawley had dismissed her on Theta Eridani IV. Yet when it came to that planet that they had just left behind themselves... Soo's thoughts rather went to the sound of banging fists and cries outside her shuttle... and the panic. The blood-curdling panic all around her, screaming that they were all going to die. Rawley's change and rejection paled in comparison.
She spotted her new SCO, signalling for her to come over, and since the music in her headphones didn't help to alleviate the guilt she felt, she sighed and walked over there. Once she was seated she gingerly lifted her headphones from her ears and let them hang around her neck. She was wearing a white tank top, black tights, gymnastics shoes and her flight jacket on top of it all - as if she was about to head to the Upper Gymnasium after visiting Below Decks. Only it was what she usually wore off duty, being not too keen on dressing up to any occasion.
"Renard," she greeted with an attempt at a smile, which died soon enough when he began to speak of Evelyn. She looked away and fingered her headphones, looking at the people around her and sensing their thoughts gradually turn more leaden with the intake of alcoholic beverages of all kinds.
"Can... we please not talk about Ranger?" she asked kindly without leaving any explanation. "A lot has happened... and not just this morning."
Again, the thudding sound of fists against the hull. Their screaming as well as the screams of their thoughts.
he nodded understandingly, "Of course." he said as he gradually shifted back into his human form the fur receding into his skin and his facial structure resuming the less forwardly pronounced profile. As his appearance shifted his ears shrunk and lost their furry coating becoming something between a Vulcan's and the more pronounced ears of one of the elves from a 20th century Terran fantasy story. Completely forgotten by him was how in his furless state his feet reverted to the human like ones that actually did fit within shoes, objects he didn't happen to have with him at the moment.
"I didn't know, sorry for even binging it up." he said as he filled a couple shot glasses with the scotch Rawley had left and pushed one over to the telepathic pilot in front of him. "Is there anything I can do to help take your mind off of whatever's ailing ya?" He asked knowing from that look she carried that there was something bothering her.
The question bore through the cries in her memories, and Oracle tried to centre herself in the present - the familiarity of Miles' mind being the closest in proximity and therefore the loudest.
She sensed respect towards her and her wishes, and while she could not fathom the exact reason behind the change of his form this time around, it was something she had grown familiar with back when he had just been another of the Lone Wolves under the lead of Commander Jaru Rel. Even after spending a week on Theta Eridani IV and learning what had happened, Soo Young had never quite gotten accustomed to the fact that the former SCO was on the brink of life and death in a stasis pod, nearly having bleed to death after some young engineer opened up his leg with close-proximity phaser fire. Even more perplexing was that even after all that had happened during the infamous Niga Incident, Captain Ives had issued an edict that prevented any trials and investigations that would hold the right people responsible. She supposed the circumstances had been extreme, but the crew killing each other? Those raped did not remember anything, and those that weren't said nothing.
But they thought about it all too often...
"I do not know, Fox," she admitted, wanting to join the crowd's growing intoxication and therefore downed the shot Miles had poured for her. She grimaced badly and put the back of her hand against her lips. It was something that Rawley could consider drinking. "Another."
Having downed a second shot, she leaned back a little and stretched her neck, hoping the effect would come quickly. "I could fit only so many into my shuttle back there. Had to leave to save the other shuttles trying to board," she said quietly, starting to slowly rub her fingers over her face and hoping the numbness would come and take her memories with it, "I could hear them... In my mind. Had to shut them out and leave. I don't know how many died for it. Don't want to know. I know I had no choice. Doesn't make it any easier. Not when they were in my mind. Can't ignore their voices now. Can't keep fooling myself that I can either. I..."
She sighed, pushing the shot glass to Miles again. "I just have to deal with it. What you can do... is to pour me another one."
They had been intimate upon her return, and while Oracle remembered that night with fondness since she had felt that she had been able to give him something rare for his species - at least those in Starfleet's servie - it was not something at the forefront of her mind. Distraction was welcome, but she had a steep hill to climb out of the darkness of her thoughts.
He heard her words and began to reflect on them, The images of what she must have gone through flooded his mind as he imagined himself in her scenario. Those cries and screams he imagined must have been more than horrifying. He looked to her behind the mild opacity of liquor in the bottle his still slitted fox like eyes seeing the possibilities of what she must be facing inside. Not just the shouts and thoughts of those in that case but the thoughts on board this ship as well. The mission, The Niga incident's memories, the even fresher memories of their encounter with the entity that called itself Ishtar, He could only imagine the internal conflict of emotions she must feel just walking down a hall or being in a room. Even alone in her own room he imagined she was constantly hammered with the intruding thoughts.
All he could do was try to comfort her on the one case she mentioned though in the only way he knew how. Well that and pour her the third shot she had requested. "Think of it the way a doctor has to look at triage. You have the time to work on 20 patients and there are 100. 50 are mortally wounded chances of success in tending to them is less than one percent. just giving them something to ease their pain would take away valuable seconds that you could be saving a life that was salvageable. this leaves 50 that you can do something about but you only have time for 20 you have to choose the path that lets you get to all 20 with the most efficiency in order to save the most lives. Taking on more passengers would have delayed takeoff and you the passengers you carried and those outside would have died from the attack that landed shortly after liftoff. You took the course of action that saved the most possible. You were working triage medivac and had to dust-off ASAP. In fact you stayed longer than you should have to be honest, so consider yourself going above and beyond anything that you could have done otherwise."
he sighed softly knowing that it wasn't much of a consolation and he knew it wouldn't stop the voices she was faced with in her memories nor the words those voices carried but he had to reinforce one fact. She made the right decision. He looked to her softly downing another shot of his own never liking scotch as much as some others in his squad but certainly admitted its harshness took the edge off of the reality that was being faced around them. he reached out reflexively and took her hand in his. "Ya know I could go for a distraction of my own," he said changing the subject, "and all this liquid does is dull what's there and makes me sit in the middle of it. Its, like replacing a sharp pain that happens every 5 minutes with a constant dull throb. Oh well I guess I could just go back to the office and work on all the paperwork. Not like I won't have a 10 ft pile of it waiting on me after this mess."
(https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-4c5yQSTTIyE/T_dYxFndtDI/AAAAAAAABKU/Risd3olk77g/s326/Skye_09.png) Ensign Skye "Kestrel" Carver - Wolf 02
The guy behind the bar who gave a literal interpretation of 'dirty blonde' nodded and filled Razor's glass and gave Skye another refill before giving Razor a quick wink. He'd been wondering which guy or even gal would approach the athletic looking woman in naughty garb.
Skye thanked Rory and turned to lean on the bar, giving Razor one of those lopsided smiles. "I've just been thinking about a lot of things lately, sort of wallowing in them really. I was just telling our new bartender I'd help him find a shower and some clothes as soon as someone could relieve him from his duties. Seems there's a lady on board he'd rather not see him all covered in ash," she chuckled.
"What about you?" she asked, taking a sip. "You, Ranger, and Foxie looked pretty deep in discussions. I thought about going over but Foxie didn't give me a signal so I stayed back." Hell, her own wing leader didn't even acknowledge her presence. "So what kinda fun are you three up to?" she asked curiously, no hint of jealousy or suspicion in her tone.
When Miles began to speak of numbers, Soo Young nodded slowly while she felt apathetic inside. She listened as she was reaching out to down the third shot, and down it came with as little joy as the first two. She grimaced and coughed against the back of her hand, and just as little as she liked the taste of the drink, she did not like what she heard either.
Of course Miles was right, and she knew that. It was the harsh reality of the situation she had been in that she suffered from, and giving supposed numbers to the people she had left behind did not keep her from imagining how many there had been. Even if it was just an example, Oracle only had that to go on, so she reached for that vile bottle and poured herself a fourth one.
"I just need to deal with it," she said quietly, her hand shaking as she lifted the fourth shot. She raised her eyes from it and looked towards her SCO. "Music won't help any more, so I just want to feel numb. I suppose this is the right place to go when you want to cease feeling anything, but there is still people here; thinking too loudly... only more incoherently by each passing minute."
When Miles changed the subject, Soo tilted her head back and downed the fourth one - finding the burning in her throat having gone to her mind already during the movement. At least the alchohol was working even if she could not seem to work through her issues. She smiled lazily and leaned back, holding out the bottle to pour herself a fifth one. She knew it was stupid to drink in such rapid sucession, but the alternative was worse. "Rather a dull throb than having people shout into your ears the whole time," she said, swallowing before another grin came to her in amusement, "Why is it still called paperwork by the way? We stopped using papers in the 21st century. There is an expression that has outlived its meaning... that's for sure."
She downed the fifth one, finding herself growing to like the taste for some reason. She sucked air through her nose and leaned forward on the table, blinking to focus on Miles. "You really do not want to go to your office, do you?" she said, finding herself chuckling for some reason. "As much is clear from your thoughts, Fox. So what would you like to distract yourself with? Cards? Sex? Dice? I'm game."
With higher intoxication and lowered awareness of the people around her, Soo realised that her genetic situation in life manifested more strongly. With all that had happened, the result of her mixed genetics had been dormant. As she arrived to Theta Eridani, it had become evident that the special period in each Betazoid female's life - known as the Phase - had come much sooner for her. It was a period in which the Betazoid sex drive was quadrupled. Her human DNA would release sexual hormones much sooner in life, she had been told as she grew up, and it had always been a possibility that the Phase would come much sooner for her.
As she surprised herself to suggest sex so casually, something clicked back into place in her leaden mind. "I should not have said that," she said with a tipsy chuckle and sunk lower into her chair - pouring herself a sixth shot. "You go to your office. I will hooold the fort here, commandr."
She hiccuped and toasted in the air before downing the sixth shot. Numbness was truly bliss.
Razor nodded at the barkeep as his glass got refilled and he brought out a faint smile when Skye told him she was thinking about things. "Wallowing huh?' He repeated after her and chuckled a bit "I guess I can toast to that." He answered her and shot his glass down in one go. The sour look on his face betrayed that it had been a while since he had such a strong drink. Hearing about the barkeeps trouble now, Thomas couldn't help but laugh a bit as he looked at Rory "Man... If only you knew how many guys would kill to go into Kestrel her shower..."
Asking for another fill up he turned his eyes to Kestrel now as she asked what the talk was about between Miles, Rawley and himself. "Oh, wouldn't you like to know what secretive fun we'd be up to..." He teased her and leaned forward a bit. His eyes sparked with misschief. "If you want to know you'll have to fish a bit harder for it..." He carried on and placed the new shot at his lips and nipped from it.
Miles looked to her when she mentioned how paperwork as a word was so outdated, "Indeed the term has outlived its meaning but what are we supposed to cal lit PADD work, no that would only apply to work done on one particular kind of device." He said watching as she seemed to toss back one drink after another clearing going too far too fast. Hearing her question of what he did to pass time and the like he couldn't help but snicker at the question of sex to pass time. and when she tried to take it back it was all too clear to him he couldn't let her off that easy. she opened a whole new can of worms and he wasn't about to let her live this one down so quickly. "well you seem eager for a second round don't you?" he said having noticed the near overwhelming scent coming from her body.
At first he had thought it to be perfume but it was far too natural in fact it was like the perfume he smelt might b trying to mask it somewhat. No this was different. It was some hormonal reaction, maybe stress maybe an inebriated sense of lust whatever it was he couldn't understand the language as anything but foreign gibberish. As unintelligible as it was though he was certain of one thing if the language of her body had a the volume of a voice it would be yelling as if were atop a mountain trying to get anyone around to hear.
"Actually before the holodecks were shut down for power consumption reasons my primary hobby was holonovelization of a type of writing 20th century Humans would have called Fan-Fiction. Interesting premise really you take a fictional work that already exists and write stories within the world of those stories sometimes involving even the characters in the original work."
"If you must know When I'm relaxing in my quarters I either watch recordings of 20th century Earth Television and Cinema or listen to music from an eclectic mix. and I have a bit of a soft spot for the Rock and Roll and Heavy Metal genres of 20th century Terran music, guess i got that from the noise that Papabear always cranked full blast in the hangars when we were testing the mark Threes. I also tend to find myself studding comparative theology and anthropology of different cultures both human and non human. Kirk's encounter with the Apollo entity, our recent encounter with the one calling itself Ishtar, as well as the existence of the Bajorans' "prophets as life forms existing within the Bajoran wormhole, Seem to lend credence to my theory that the "gods" are real but not as gods as it were but they are advanced alien life forms that have abilities indistinguishable from what we would see as deific. Secondly that many of the deities of the alpha and beta quadrants cultures are not different beings but the same beings that were given different names by the creatures that encountered them."
"Outside of my quarters now that the Holodecks are down If i had a decent sparring partner I would find myself on the gym mats more often than not looking to take on whoever wanted to spar with me. I've actually been thinking about testing my skills, staff to blade, with the Captain but I haven't found the time to present the idea to him, other than that I've tried Kal-toh for a while but turns out No matter what I do I end of creating an inherently more "chaotic" structure than it started out as as opposed to creating the order the game strives to achieve. I tried chess, shogi, 3d chess. Let's just say in all of those I absolutely am an idiot. Only games of strategy I am any good at are tabletop war-games and a few card games."
He couldnt help but chuckle at her comment of holding down the fort here while he went back to his office. Still there was a voice in his mind that told him to stay. It was a soft one probably a combination of the alcohol talking as well as a classic example of 'thinking with the lower head.' The urge told him to stay and push his luck at trying to take her up on the possible offer she gave of enjoying each others company again. Still there was a voice of sense that knocked when he heard the slur in her speech and seeing her down another shot that told him despite how badly it may spoil his fun there was one thing he had to do above all else.
as she toasted the air and downed the shot he grabbed the bottle and put the lid on it then as the glass it the table he reached out and took it from her. "Sorry Oracle but I'm gonna have to cut you off. We've got to get to work by noon tomorrow and you're already working on one hell of a hangover; I certainly don't want to have to explain to the doc why one of my pilots had to be rushed into the sickbay for alcohol poisoning in the middle of the graveyard shift."
Soo Young Seung had been listening to the list of Miles' off-duty preoccupations with a growing feeling of... drunkenness. Yet when he took her bottle and glass away from her, she got defensive. "Hey! Give me that!" she said and tried to wrench them back from her SCO, "I need that! Arrgh, you..."
With a ferocious growl ending with a deep sigh, she surrendered and sunk down in her seat - glaring daggers at Miles from underneath her eyelashes. "I hate you," she said, smacking with her mouth to rid herself of the taste of her latest shot. "You donch believe me? I hate you a lot. You can schtick that bottle up your perfectly shaped, furry arse. I don't need it anyway, you hear?"
Blinking hard, Soo tried to keep the two Miles she saw in one steamy picture, but it proved too hard so she gave up, looking around the lounge instead. There was a bar counter over there, where Tom Ravon and Skye Carver sat. Perhaps they had come across another bottle... "Eschuse me, I will be right back," she said and stood up. Her head reeled from the sudden movement, but she kept herself centred by putting her headphones over her ears, thinking that it was wise to keep people from distracting her while she made her way to the bar.
It had been a perfect plan, had it not been for the carpet's edge in her way - making her trip forward. She tried to catch her balance, but it happened by reflex, and her reflexes had become poor, to say the very least. She reeled backwards instead, ending up landing square into Miles' lap with a hard thud - headphones askew and feeling surprised. She glared at Miles again once she could make eye-contact.
"Don't... schay... a word."
Miles couldn't help but hold his ground as she demanded having the bottle back. It was clear by the way she was acting that even without having more of the concoction she would continue to get increasingly intoxicated By her increasingly slurred speech it was becoming all too obvious that the alcohol was nearing the full effects she could enjoy without passing out.
He watched her as she stood up and primed himself in his chair k owing that she would more than likely loose her footing being full aware that he may have to quickly dart upwards and try and catch her to keep her from suffering injury. What he did not expect was to see her loose her balance and come crashing back down towards him. He quickly caught her cushioning her fall with his arms and body.
as she told him to not say a word a new impulse came over him. An impulse to indeed not 'say' anything, a certain instinct one could guess. Perhaps it was his instincts, perhaps it was the alcohol acting on him. Perhaps he thought her psychic mind was sending out waves or information in its drunken stupor. Perhaps it was all of these or none. What everything told him to do in this moment was to gently take off the headphones from her and lay them on the table. Then slowly he leaned down and his forehead gently just barely touched hers. he looked into her eyes and began to concentrate. perhaps his sheer emotions of concern that were directed strait at her would be a beacon to focus on and help drown out the thoughts around her.
Indeed, the bloody Vulpinian did not speak with his lips, but chose to speak to Soo in thoughts - his concern for her flooding her mind and disarming her.
Blinking, she could not help but look back into the eyes of the form Miles wore in his cockpit, and the concern for her that she felt began to be her own - understanding that she could not continue drinking and that nothing good would come of it. A quick but temporary and inefficient method of shutting everyone out, which would also have repercussion on the morrow. A selfish means of escape from the present that disregarded her duties and their mission objectives - the requirement to be alert and ready if they fell into strife again.
Through her intoxicated mind, she accepted this. And his mind became her focus; her way to find respite. So she found herself slipping her hands behind his neck as their foreheads touched, breathing slowly through her nostrils while she shut the rest out.
"Thanks," she murmured, lips pursing as she tried to concentrate on what she should do. "Perhaps I should go. Head to my quarters. I have to stop by in the restroom first, though... Ugh..."
She put a hand before her mouth, eyes wide. It was clear she needed to go immediately, so she tried to scramble off him and set off towards the back of the Lounge.
He understood immediately what she meant and helped her on the way up. Instinctively he grabbed her free hand remembering how she had found it a bit difficult to step to the bar. He knew making it to the head was going to be an even more difficult task for her. Instead he looked around for something anything that would suit his needs as he looked to the bartender whom he had met a few times while on the planetary surface though having not yet learned his name. "Quick! icebucket minus the ice." He said desperately knowing both time and the effects of the alcohol eating away at the lining of her stomach were working against him for that matter really working against her. There really wasn't much he could do other than hope that she would receive some form of container before creating a messy mixture of bile, stomach acid, and scotch on the bartenders currently immaculate floor.
(https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-4c5yQSTTIyE/T_dYxFndtDI/AAAAAAAABKU/Risd3olk77g/s326/Skye_09.png) Ensign Skye "Kestrel" Carver - Wolf 02
Skye couldn't help the smirk that formed as Thomas said he could toast to wallowing. "Ah, I much prefer your kind of wallowing, Razor," she said with a wink and nursed her drink, enjoying the burn of the bourbon. Both she and Rory grinned at the face he made, a glance passing between the blondes like they'd been drinking buddies forever.
Rory wasn't too sure for a moment when the guy said there were many guys wanting in Kestrel's shower. "Well ..." he temporized, not wanting to insult either. "She's a lovely lass fer sure but I promise no one has t' worry 'bout me. I got m' eyes set on a lovely brunette ... 'course she sees me like this an' I'll stand no chance 't'all."
Skye snickered, seeing the barkeep's discomfort. "Maybe Razor here could offer you his bunk for a bit, give you privacy and not be put in a position some might call compromising," she grinned, glancing at Thomas with an eyebrow raised. Why was it she felt better when he was so near, when his eyes twinkled like they were?
Rory saw Thomas leaning in closer and the heated look the blonde gave him, knowing that look all too well. Without another word, he melted away from them to wait on some people at the end of the bar. For now, the two would have as much privacy as the environment would allow them.
"I would like to know," Skye admitted, leaning in to where their faces were very close together. "I'm just not sure if I'll like what sort of fish I'll come up with given Ranger's involvement." Her heated look didn't quite cover the worry, perhaps even some jealousy. "You've been spending a lot of time with her lately. Can't help wondering when you won't notice me at all," she said softly.
A small chuckle was all that Thomas could do when Skye told him she'd prefer his wallowing. His eyes darted up to Rory now as he mentioned a lovely brunette and he had to smirk when he told them he wouldn't stand a chance as he was now. "I beg to differ, perhaps she likes her men.... Dirty." He said and gave Skye a subtle wink.
Just when he placed the drink to his lips Skye started about giving his bunk to the barkeep, unable to object he sipped from his drink and coughed a bit. "Hmm, I wouldn't mind offering my bunk down for a night or two but um... Where do I need to sleep than?" He said with a sheepish voice.
Listening to Carver now as she talked about Rawley, Thomas had to smile a bit faint, knowing Rawley had promised him a blowjob or perhaps even more for letting her fly the Reaver. He hadn't given her control of the Reaver for that though, he wanted someone able to fly a ship full of medical patients without killing anyone or all on their way back to Theurgy. "It's nothing... We just got assigned to work on the damaged Reaver, after our primary duties. So I'll probably have to work a bit more with her than you'd prefer I think..." he said now and nipped from his drink again, keeping eye contact with the blonde woman. "But I know one thing though, I won't forget you... How could I?" He continued and smiled.
(https://fc01.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2014/219/f/7/oconnel_row_01_by_auctor_lucan-d7u6n2x.png)
It was then Master Chief William Robert 'Billy Bob' O'Connell entered the bar. Clad in a set of soiled coveralls and carrying a hefty toobox, he groaned as he ran his calloused hand through his dirty blonde hair. The Lone Wolves had invaded 'Below Decks' and were whooping it up. Just what he needed after a sixteen hour shift, the chance to watch Commander Renard nursemaid his cubs and try to keep them from killing themselves when they weren't in the cockpit. Even now, the Vulpinian was trying to keep Orcale from vomiting all over the deck. He didn't even have Chief Warrant Officer First Class Sten Covington around to help him babysit and if Billy Bob wasn't careful he'd be drafted.
When did he start feeling this way? When the ship launched last year, O'Connell was the king of the bar and worst chaser of fox and beaver on the ship (in his mind at least) but now he was ready to become a monk. When had he stopped being the reckless young guy and become the boring old man? Was it the first time a Starfleet vessel shot at the Theurgy? Was it when he got infected with an alien pollen by that enchanting electronics technician while they were in the Mahéwa System? Or was it afterwards when he was still licking his wounds after the Niga Incident and an alien intelligence the officers called 'Ishtar' made him start licking that cute little petty officer? Maybe it was the first, or maybe the second time the ship lost a chief engineer. Who knew, and right now who cared? All Billy Bob knew was that he needed something stronger than synthehol right now.
O'Connell noticed a tall lanky young man behind the bar. He wasn't wearing a uniform and Billy Bob didn't recognize him, so that made him one of the refugees they picked up. The fella was blonde, blue eyed, likeable and roguishly handsome, everything that O'Connell used to be before he signed up for this ship. He hated him already. Kestral, AKA Skye Carver was already running circles around him and she was really aiming her charm on her shipmate Thomas Ravon, callsign Razor. He smiled as the young civilian wisely bid a hasty retreat and gestured for the new meat to approach him and take his order.
(https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jAoYKkSrI9E/URQ30zlbcdI/AAAAAAAABsc/nM6MyeBYcbg/s326/rory_05.png)Rory Callahan - Civilian Celebrity/Bartender
Just as Rory finished with the couple at a small table, he heard someone yelling for an ice bucket and when he saw the dog-like man and female turning a shade of green that was certainly not Orion. "Oohhhh hell," he muttered and dashed behind the bar, looking for such a thing but not seeing that sort of thing did the next best thing.
He grabbed the box he'd brought the alcohol back in from the thermal springs. Long legs had him over to them as quickly as possible and experience sent him flying back well out of the way for when she started to blow. "Don' worry ... I won't be needin' it back," he jested and left Miles to tend to the woman.
When he returned to the bar, he looked at the man who'd gestured to him just as the call had been made for a trash receptacle. "Sorry 'bout tha', Sir," he said with an apologetic smile. "Rory Callahan at yer service. What kin I get ye?"
(https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-4c5yQSTTIyE/T_dYxFndtDI/AAAAAAAABKU/Risd3olk77g/s326/Skye_09.png) Ensign Skye "Kestrel" Carver - Wolf 02
Skye chuckled as she took another drink and nodded at O'Connell as he walked by them and took a spot at the bar. "Well I didn't say you'd forget me, just that you might not notice me," she grinned. "I'm a little hard to forget." She had enough confidence in herself to know that much and she knew she never forgot any of her lovers, no matter how brief the encounter might have been.
"As for the amount of time you spend with her, as well as what you do with her, well it's really none of my business," she stated matter-of-factly. "It's not like we have a claim on each other." She didn't add that she thought he could do better, not that it was her but there were a lot of women who was better suited to him than the jarring bald woman.
(https://fc01.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2014/219/f/7/oconnel_row_01_by_auctor_lucan-d7u6n2x.png)
O'Connell attempted to act friendly and smile at a man who was actually willing to offer him a drink without being told to. "Yeah, I'd like to..." He grimaced and closed his eyes when he heard a nauseating yet familiar sound. Oracle was tossing her cookies. Regurgitating a horta. Making street pizza. Painting a Jackson Pollock. Shouting for Huey and Ralph. Ejecting the plasma through the fuel port. Blowing chunks. Throwing her voice. Experiencing a stomach overflow error. Dumping the core. Yawning for the hearing impaired. Preaching it to the congregation. Speaking in Klingon. Preparing a meal for the Breen. Flinging floor pie. Making the holographic rainbow yawn. Tasting her drinks a second time.
He shuddered and collected himself while instinctively holding his breath. "As I was saying I'd like to order a..." Soo Young Seung wasn't finished yet. Once again O'Connell closed his eyes while she had an out of stomach experience. Suffered an involuntary personal protein spill. Gave an organ recital. Talked to her shoes. Did the Feringar Yodel. Brought it up for a vote. Caught it on the rebound. Yelled at the ground. Cleared her throat the easy way. Decorated the deck. Ate backwards. Called the moose. Flung floor pie. Made the Cardassian mating call. Rode the regurtitron. Cleaned house. Had a hiccup from hell.
He opened his eyes and resisted the urge to glance in Soo Young Seung's direction. "Hell just give me anything that'll let me ignore this!"
When she was finished, Soo Young Seung sat back from the bucket, head reeling and her throat feeling raw. Miles had been there to help her, holding her hair away, but she was a bit too preoccupied to notice. When she finally could breathe normally, she wiped her eyes with her sleeve and tried to stand on shaky legs. "H-How embarassing," he murmured, blinking hard, "It's barely noon and here I am making an ass of myself."
Indeed, she could feel the looks as much as she could sense the humour at her expense - read every condescending thought. It was fortunate that she had reached a point where she did not care as much as she might otherwise. She glanced towards her Commander as if to weigh the odds that she could order something from the bar, but seeing that bucket again made her think twice about it. Better to retire to her quarters, sleep off the liquor and perhaps being able to fall asleep without thinking about what happened on Theta Eridani IV. The possibility of rest made her weary already, and it could only partially be attributed to her episode over the ice bucket.
"I should withdraw to my quarters, Miles," she half slurred, looking around and locating her headphones. She put them across the back of her neck and tried to look a bit more dignified, even as her mind was awhirl with other people's thoughts and her own. "No reason to stay here if I can't drink away my concerns. Even less reason when I am poor company."
Catching the eye of the rest of her present wolves, she gave them a weak smile and waved before heading towards the exit, half expecting someone to want to assist her given how plastered she had made herself. Curse her mixed blood and damnation upon the voyage she had returned to. She'd had the chance to stay away, so why could she not have taken it? Now, she would have to live with her decisions in that shuttle, unable to jump off the ride that would lead into the Alpha Quadrant.
On her way out, she nearly bumped her shoulder into someone else's, a woman that entered Below Decks just as she left. Soo mumbled an excuse, raised her eyes and saw that it was the Deputy. The Andorian named ThanIda zh'Wann. She seemed none to pleased to be bumped into, yet she didn't say anything - only moving on into the Lounge with a casual pace. Her antennae moved in sync with her eyes as she looked around.
At that point, Soo had rounded the corner and looked around for the closest set of turbo-lifts.
Miles just shrugged as he looked for a place to dispose of the once empty box. shrugging he decided to head over to the bar seeing the other pilots that were there. "Hey Skye." he said sighing as he said looking over fr a moment. Sorry, I didn't even notice you walk in. Guess I was a little preoccupied with ranger storming off and then seeing Oracle again. well I guess I'll be off; I dread the sight of stacked PADDS I'll find in my office. he said walking off his form reverting to his natural body. He dreaded what he would find in his office but he guessed it was better than delaying the inevitable for continued pleasures.
((sorry if its a bit short All i really wanted to do was note his leaving.))
(https://fc01.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2014/219/f/7/oconnel_row_01_by_auctor_lucan-d7u6n2x.png)
O'Connell grimaced and leaned on the bar while putting his hand over the side of his face when he saw ThanIda zh'Wann enter Below Decks. Ever since Commander Cinn had been sucked into the black to go where no traveler bothered to buy a return ticket, the athletic Andorian had been a stickler for discipline more than duty demanded to Billy Bob's way of thinking. It seemed that every time they encountered each other he seemed to get on the wrong side of her.
Not only was she an officer who could make his life miserable, but the one time they had tussled she had chipped his tooth and made him scream like a little girl. Since honest-to-God-genuine-alcohol had a tendency to make O'Connor's mouth fall open and his conduct to be less than respectful, the blue ballbreaker had ordered the late and lamented Bill Regal, the ship's last bartender, to only serve him snythahol until Andor's sun froze over. Regal had joined Wenn Cinn in that great starbase protecting eternity, so getting a real drink was challenging but doable these days. Even so, unless Commander Cinn miraculously returned from the dead, in Billy Bob's reckoning it was a good notion to never let Ida see him drinking.
He risked a glance to witness Miles Renard leave Below Decks. "Well isn't this prettier than a hooker in heat?" he thought to himself. "There goes the one of the few officers I haven't pissed off." The rest of the Lone Wolves wouldn't get in the Andorian's way if she was feeling tetchy. Time to think fast.
"Got my synthehol martini ready for me son?" He called to Rory in a feeble attempt at damage control. It wouldn't fool anybody, but hopefully ThanIda didn't care right now. All he could do now was stare straight ahead and avoid eye contact.
Looking around, ThanIda zh'Wann was none too pleased with the company she found in Below Decks. She took a deep breath and headed towards the bar with jaws clenching, antennae lowering.
On one hand she had the Maintenence Chief that should not be there in the first place, his Pinkskin manners when being drunk being utterly repulsive to Ida. Being as there was a new bartender behind the counter, the engineer was probably trying to get his dirty hands on some non-synthehol beverages. In fact, that bartender had no business serving in Below Decks since Ida was positive he was a stowaway on the Harbinger until they left Theta Eridani IV.
On the other hand, Ensign Skye Carver was seated by the bar together with another of the Lone Wolves, and that blonde Pinkskin had been a direct cause for Ida's demotion to Junior Lieutenant. This, despite the fact that it had been the Ensign that had been insubordinate towards a superior officer and did not know her place in the chain-of-command. What were they to do if everyone could do as she did when answering a Security Officer's questions? Ida knew, of course, that it had been another stowaway that had caused the Ensign's hostility. A stowaway turned Cadet, and Cadet ending up dead since he would not follow Ida's orders in battle.
Reaching the bar, Ida looked to her right, locking eyes with Chief O'Connell. Then she looked to her left, seeing if the Ensign would deign meet her gaze. Lastly, she looked upon the Harbinger civilian behind the bar, and had it not been that Wenn Cinn's reappearance on the Flight Deck occupied her mind, and she needed a drink and some time to think, she might have ensured that the regular hologram bartenders would take over. For as it were, she did not have the energy to confront any of the three present parties at the bar counter.
"Andorian ale," she said quietly, "if you would be so kind."
Thomas let out a faint chuckle and he shrugged "Skye... It'd be even harder to not notice you if you keep making appearances like this." He said on a low voice and it was meant as a compliment for her. He had the feeling that when she entered a room he'd instantly notice her. Rawley was a very different kind of girl than Skye, almost the opposite even. As she brought up the claim, Thomas looked up at her now and frowned a bit. "You'd want a claim on me than?" he asked with a smirk. He wasn't sure about it himself it seemed, Skye had the looks that most men on board would fight for, yet he didn't know either if their little romance down on Theta was a one time thing for her or if they actually could make a connection of any kind. He doubted about the words that floated at the tip of his tongue and eventually he just blurted it out "Cause if you do, I wouldn't mind."
(https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-4c5yQSTTIyE/T_dYxFndtDI/AAAAAAAABKU/Risd3olk77g/s326/Skye_09.png) Ensign Skye "Kestrel" Carver - Wolf 02
Pausing and pulling back from Thomas a bit, she smiled at Miles and gave him a light tap on the shoulder. "You got lots on your mind and then had lots in your lap," she said with a teasing smile. "Try to get some rest in there someone, okay Boss?" That was said with a smile full of concern. He had a lot on his plate and tended to forget to rest.
She was just turning her attention back to Thomas when Ida walked in and she resisted the urge to snarl. It was Thomas' smooth words that lulled her enough that she could lift her glass and salute Smurfette and then take a drink as she looked back into the young man's eyes. What he said last left her sitting there a bit stunned.
Licking her lips as she set the glass down, she searched his eyes. He could see past hurts and fear floating around in them but also a bit of hope, something that seemed to calm the storm within her. "You wouldn't mind?" she said softly, a gentle caress of his cheek making her seem vulnerable, which she was. "You are so tempting."
For a moment, she just looked at him and then touched her lips to his. She could feel the excitement but also his hesitancy. "You aren't certain but I would like to continue seeing you, being with you. Why don't we take it slow and see how things go. If things go well enough, then we can lay claims."
(https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jAoYKkSrI9E/URQ30zlbcdI/AAAAAAAABsc/nM6MyeBYcbg/s326/rory_05.png)Rory Callahan - Civilian Celebrity/Bartender
When Razor had commented that Natalie might like her men 'dirty' he couldn't help a little snicker but if he was reading her right, she needed care and respect just as much or perhaps even more than a dirty tumble. Maybe he was a bit old fashioned since being whisked away with labeled traitors but his days of playing the field didn't seem so wonderful anymore. Every moment was threatened now and he couldn't help thinking the only legacy he'd left was as a roundabout singer.
No, he didn't expect her to fall in love with him though it would be nice. He was thinking of her vibrant blue eyes as he approached the man needing a drink. The poor guy was looking a bit green around the gills listening to the woman seemingly emptying the contents of her entire body and not just her stomach. He was used to such sounds but knew others were so was glad when the poor woman made her way out of the bar. "That one's gonna hate wakin' up," he said sadly.
Turning his attention back to the man, he pulled out a short tumbler and poured in a good four fingers of a dark amber colored liquor. The name on the label was certain Irish, Tullamore Dew. "This is somethin' I call sweet 'n savory. There's a bit o' salty kick but there's also a hint of caramel, brown sugar, an' oak if ye let it roll 'round in yer mouth long enough. Think ye'll like it lots better than some wimpy little martini," he said with an emphatic nod. Of course he had no clue the man was attempting to avoid the blue woman and was just trying to offer a more manly drink.
Leaving the bottle sitting there for the man should he decide he wanted more, he moved over to the blue woman. She didn't look happy at all and even though it wasn't his bar, he couldn't have that at all. When she asked so politely, his smile was like a ray of sunshine. "As th' lady wishes! I happened to see a bit o' tha' just overrrrrrr ... there!" Ducking down and grabbing a long fluted glass, he poured it three-fourths full. "Name's Rory Callahan, pleasure t' meet an' serve ye," he stated cheerfully.
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"Much obliged," Billy Bob nodded back to the bartender. As Rory served the bitter yet bodacious ThanIda zh'Wann, William O'Connell blinked and stared as he recognized the bartender. "Hey! Rory Callahan, this guy is Rory Callahan!" he burbled as he pointed at the lanky Irishman. "I thought you looked familiar!" he exclaimed before looking at Ida. "Don't you know who this is? He's the lead guitarist and backup singer for Celtic Thunder!"
Billy Bob froze as his head struggled to catch up with his mouth. He heard a voice in his head that sounded like his. 'Quiet ya idjit,' his inner voice told him. 'Rory Callahan's travelling incognito and using his fifty bars of latinum smile on Lieutenant zh'Wann. If anybody in the 'verse has a sunny enough disposition to shine some light on zh'Wann's dark and bitter heart it's him, ya stupid gump! Vamoose and let him work his magic. You're old enough to know that an unhappy officer means an unhappy chief, how 'bout finding out if it's the same in the converse for once?'
O'Connell cleared his throat, picked up the bottle, and spoke in a quieter and more conversational tone. "Well I guess I best be gettin' on my way now. Take care son, and if things ain't runnin' smooth, take comfort in the fact that you don't normally learn much when everything goes right," he winked before he turned to head for the door.
OOC: Now that Searcher is back from vacation, I can have Billy Bob leave and give her characters room to do their thing in this scene. Unless Auctor Lucan and Lieutenant zh'Wann have other ideas...
Inclining her head in gratitude for the drink, Ida's eyes rose to the Pinkskin that served her. His bright attitude seemed an honest affability, which was in stark contrast with the late William Regal's immoral lechery.
What happened next was something that went completely over her antennae. The Maintenance Chief's outburst caused Ida to turn her head and raise her white eyebrows in consternation. She caught on to the fact that this Rory Callahan was some kind of celebrity on Terra, yet when Chief O'Connell suddenly excused himself, having just received his drink, Ida's first thought was that he felt he had embarrassed himself, but that did not add up with his usual shameless demeanor. She blinked and watched him leave with a frown, thinking that it had something to do with her presence, and it irked her.
She turned back to Rory with a sideways glance, as if he was in on the joke, yet in the end, she did not have the energy to care or pursue what it was that had just happened. The Pinkskin did look far too unsanitary to be serving beverages, and that was something that she felt compelled to do something about.
"You are from the Harbinger, correct?" she asked rhetorically and sipped her drink - the taste blossoming like a flower in her mouth. "We will not rendezvous with her until tomorrow evening at the earliest, so you will have to secure accommodations aboard for the night. In fact, you need someplace where you can take a shower if you are to continue serving drinks here. You are probably doing a better job than the holograms we've used, but for sanitary reasons, I hope you understand why I have to ask you to step away for a short while."
Her standpoint not being open for arguments, Ida tapped her combadge so that she might help the Pinkskin. "zh'Wann to Quartermaster, I need quarters for a visitor here on Deck 07. What do we have available closest to Below Decks?"
[Closest? VIP Quarters, Deputy. Seventh suite.]
"That's fine. Would you mind giving a certain Rory Callahan - no rank - access to it with the passcode Alpha-Zero-Nine-Zero until he changes it to one of his own? I'll tell him to pay you a visit when he can so that he can register himself in your logs, but its likely just for one night."
[...Done, Deputy.]
"Thank you," said Ida, and while she had made the arrangements, she had not noticed if there were any objections or or mentionings of other plans. Her thoughts had been elsewhere, and when it was done, she stood from her bar stool. "Thea, activate the lounge personnel program. Mr. Callahan, I suppose you don't know the way so I'll show you."
She downed her Andorian ale while on her feet, and as the fiery beverage made her lips thin, she nodded towards the exit and slapped the glass down. "Come, Pinkskin. Let's go." As she led the way, she did not notice how the two holograms looked towards Skye Carver with disapproval on their faces - clearly remembering her lapdance before the Calamity attacked the ship.
They said nothing, but their stares said it all.
Razor sat quietly as Miles and Ida passed by them and he was glad Skye didn't directly get into an argument with the Andorian. He saw the impact of his words on her as she seemingly sat there in a bit of shock. He brought his own drink to his lips and took a good nip from it before he felt the warm hand of Kestrel on his cheek. He looked up into her eyes and saw her mind at work. He shook his head slowly when she repeated his words that he wouldn't mind and he kissed her back gently when she did.
The sort of deal that she made to him wasn't really what he had expected yet it would be the best thing to do. Taking it slow and seeing where they can get could form a decent picture for both of them of the other person. "Sounds like a plan to me..." He whispered and smiled as he saw how vulnerable she had showed herself moments ago. He gently kissed her cheek once more and than drank the rest of his glass empty. "So what are you planning for the rest of the evening?" he asked curious as he let his eyes go over the people present in the room.
(https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-4c5yQSTTIyE/T_dYxFndtDI/AAAAAAAABKU/Risd3olk77g/s326/Skye_09.png) Ensign Skye "Kestrel" Carver - Wolf 02
She was always reaching and they would come to her but then they would leave in some manner. Yet Thomas could see she had wanted to lay claim to him, could feel it in the way her fingers caressed his skin. He kissed her cheek and then she nuzzled her nose against his. It was a rare moment, probably for both of them, but filled somehow with even greater intimacy than they'd shared before.
When he asked what her plans were for the evening, her lips pursed and she hummed softly. "Well I hear there's going to be a party or some big hoo-hah on the holodeck tonight," she murmured with a playful smile forming. "I thought I'd at least check it out. Maybe you'd like to meet me there?" With a little kiss on his lips, she leaned back. "I hear it's like a beach party so I'll be almost naked."
(https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jAoYKkSrI9E/URQ30zlbcdI/AAAAAAAABsc/nM6MyeBYcbg/s326/rory_05.png)Rory Callahan - Civilian Celebrity/Bartender
Rory's ears turned red when William recognized him, that boyish bashful grin forming but he wagged a finger at the man. "Not really lead guitarist an' actu'lly I'm a principle singer," he corrected politely. "O'course it's us'lly jus' th' gals that know tha'," he added, knowing it was an easy mistake to make. Those girls were vicious with their delving into as much as possible though. He grinned when the man started to walk away. "Whoever said things'd go smooth?"
He caught a strange look from the blue chick, Andorian if he remembered correctly, and suddenly felt like he'd just been caught playing in a mud puddle dressed in his Sunday Best. "Aye, I was over there fer a bit. Wasn' s'posed t' stay long but ... things happen'd an' here I am," he stated truthfully. He would have said more but then she called him unsanitary and told him he'd have to leave. His ears turned red again but this time it was because of a little bit of humiliation.
She was treating him much as those on the Harbinger had, basically disregarding him by not asking him if he might have had plans or ... well, anything. More than his ears changed color and by the time she called him Pinkskin, it was quite an apt descriptor. "Now there's no need fer callin' me names," he said with a bit of puffing of his chest. "I show you respect an' I'd appreciate a little respect 'n return."
Even though he was a bit indignant, he was still following her out of the bar. "I'm so damn sick o' people treatin' me like I don' belong. Fer fook's sake I know I don' belong but I jus' keep tryin' t' be helpful in some way," he grumped through the hall, pausing and stepping back out of the way anytime anyone walked by and gave a nod of greeting and respect to them all.
[Thomas Ravon]
Feeling somehow secure around Skye, Thomas enjoyed the little private time they had. He closed his eyes and kissed her neck once more before they pulled away from eachother. As she told him about the beach party he shrugged his shoulders. He wasn't such a fan of beaches yet if it meant seeing her there once again. It had his mind racing to give her an answer.
"Alright, I'll probably see you there than." He answered her with a small chuckle, the premise of seeing her nearly naked at a beach was a pretty good incentive. He kissed her back when she did and moved a braid of hair behind her ear. "I'm sure you'll catch me around somewhere there than."
[ Corridors ] Attn: Searcher
While walking down the corridor, Ida's antennae rose in genuine surprise at the civilian's temper and demands to be shown respect. She paused her step a bit and looked towards him.
"Calling you names?" she asked quietly, tracing back on what she'd said, "You mean that I called you Pinkskin? I do not mean any disrespect by doing so, Callahan. It is a a cultural relic of mine, for even as I left Andoria many years ago, I was raised to speak this way. From the beginning, our betitlement of foreign species were a sign of distrust, yet over the centuries, the expression has changed in meaning - now simply being a form of recognition of what species you are. We name Bajorans Ridgenoses and Klingons Ridgeheads, yet not out of belittlement, for if it came to that, we Andorians know that we are quite easy targets to be made fun of with out quite... exotic appearence."
Was that what Skye Carver had been doing back on the Flight Deck? Making fun of her species?
The Pinkskin next to her felt offended, and not just by her denomination, but the way she had treated him. "I apologise if I may have seemed rude, for I was merely trying to be efficient. I can understand how you may feel like you don't belong, given our protocols and regulations. This kind of ship is not cilivian, and we in Starfleet have rules that may be hard to get used to, just like the way we enforce those rules for civilians as well in some regards. I do not dispute your help in the lounge. In fact, you seemed to be doing far better than the last Lounge Proprietor we had. If I didn't think you were being helpful, I would simply have shut you down."
They arrived to the designated VIP Quarters soon enough, and Ida opened the door for him. Inside were luxurious rooms made for diplomats and travelling envoys of all species, on par with that of the Senior Staff and even fitted with some extended comforts that were not necessary for Starfleet Officers.
Ida stepped aside to let Rory Callahan inside. "Again, pardon if I may have seemed disrespectful, for that was not my intention, Pinkski-. Forgive me," she said and corrected herself by assuming the human expression, "Mister Callahan. It is not an excuse, yet I... have been through a great deal lately."
She may not have thawed or smiled to bridge the anger of the civilian, yet she was trying at least.
(https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-4c5yQSTTIyE/T_dYxFndtDI/AAAAAAAABKU/Risd3olk77g/s326/Skye_09.png) Ensign Skye "Kestrel" Carver - Wolf 02
"I'm sure there will be plenty of things to see and do, not just the beach stuff," she tried to reassure him. "I wouldn't mind a little skinny dipping with you though," she murmured with one of those smiles meant to heat his loins. I think I'll go rest a little bit ... so I'll have plenty of energy for you," she said. "Unless you have other ideas," she winked then backed up a step. "I'll be in my quarters until party time."
(https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jAoYKkSrI9E/URQ30zlbcdI/AAAAAAAABsc/nM6MyeBYcbg/s326/rory_05.png)Rory Callahan - Civilian Celebrity/Bartender
Rory looked like Ida had smacked him when she started explaining that she hadn't been calling him Pinkskin in a derogatory way, his mouth opening but no sound coming out at first. When he finally did, it was an uttered, barely audible "... oh ... sorry." Now he had that uncomfortable look, fidgeting a bit as she apologized and he raised his hands in surrender. "It's okay an' I'm sorry too. I'm def'nitely not at m' best ri' now."
He did perk up a bit when she said he had done a better job than the last bartender. "An' I'll get better too, th' more I learn th' place. I know I'm no' trained fer anythin' you guys need but I'm glad t' know I'm doin' somethin' constructive an' maybe even helpful t' others. I figure I'm stressed enough tha' you all must be feelin' completely run over."
Stopping in front of a set of doors, she helped him set his own code and when he stepped inside he actually tripped over his own two feet. "The hell ...?" He stood and turned in a tight circle, looking at everything with wide eyes. He was used to things like this back home but here he'd expected a bare closet with a cot. "This is bonny fer sure but ... I'm jus' a singer an' a 'tender. Ye sure ye want me here an' not somethin' ... less? Not tha' I'm complainin', jus' a might surprised is all."
She apologized again and stated she'd been through a lot which only made him nod, looking much more sober now. "I know ... we all have an' it don't always make us look good in th' light. I'll make sure to keep some Andorian Ale close at hand an' yer welcome to come talk anytime. I'm not a counselor but I can listen an' maybe at least provide a bit o' comic relief," he said with a kind smile. "I'd even give ye a hug but I don' wanna get ye dirty."
That the Pinkskin was better than his predecessor in Below Decks said next to nothing, in Ida's opinion, yet she made no further comment since the new one had taken it as a compliment.
At the question Callahan posed to her about the necessity of giving him the quarters she had found for him, ThanIda zh'Wann merely shrugged with one shoulder as she gave the rooms a causal second appraisal - pacing slowly in a circle after she'd passed through the antechamber while she replied.
"It's not like we have many passengers aboard, and how heavy would you think political importance would be on a renegade ship? We are not prone to have visiting envoys or diplomats aboard anytime soon, and the Quartermaster said it's the closest set of rooms we have available near Below Decks. It would be ludicrous to give you something less in my opinion. To save these quarters for a visitor that will never come. Besides, from what I understood from Chief O'Connell, you are a Pinkskin celebrity, aren't you?"
She realised she had used the term again, but she barely managed to clear her throat and mutter an apology before she realised he was reaching out to her and offering her laughs... and a hug. She was so surprised that words failed her. "I..." she shut her lips promptly before she'd say that it was okay, since the blonde Pinkskin might get the wrong idea that she wanted him to hug her. "I am the Deputy and I am used to being dirty."
That hardly came out any better.
"Thank you for your gracious offer, yet I'll pass for the time being." As in... that she wanted a hug later? No! She cleared her throat again and made a final attempt at an answer. "I meant to say thank you, but no thank you, Mister Callahan. Now, do you think you can find your way back to Below Decks from here or do you require me to wait for you so that I can guide you?"
Why would she offer to stay? He could surely ask Thea for directions, couldn't he? Yet it would be dishonourable to take the offer back now that she had made it, so she pointed towards the bedroom and the bathroom respectively. "I believe you can find clean garments in the wardrobes there, and you should be able to find a shower and a bath with running water behind that door."
Wasn't the Pinkskin the one who'd offered comic relief? Ida felt like a jesting fool, weary and not entirely as sharp as he used to be. She refused to acknowledge how warm her neck had become, and how much darker her blue skin ought to be in that area.
(https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jAoYKkSrI9E/URQ30zlbcdI/AAAAAAAABsc/nM6MyeBYcbg/s326/rory_05.png)Rory Callahan
Rory listed to Ida's explanation about the room and found he couldn't really refute anything she said. "Well, yeah, though don't know how much celebrity I am anymore," he stated with a lopsided grimace. "I'll not turn it down. It's much better than th' cot in th' closet I had on th' other ship."
Something about this Deputy was odd, he noted. He didn't know much about her race but he didn't think they were always standoffish. It seemed for a moment like she wanted attention and then would cut herself off. She'd been hurt was his deduction, more than once from the looks of her.
"Not everyone's a hugger so don't ye worry," he replied when she found the words to form a proper apologetic decline of a hug. Then he watched her as she spoke of the shower and clean garments, even offering to stay and help him find his way back to Below Decks, curiously noting the skin changes.
"If ye have th' time and don't mind, I'd appreciate a guide back. Shoulda paid more attention but I was bein' an idiot as usual." That was said with one of his more charming yet self-deprecatory smiles. "If yer needed elsewhere though I understand an' I'll find m' way back, can always ask for directions."
Well, of course she was needed elsewhere, but she had taken the time to visit the lounge because she had a lot on her mind, and she had the pressing issue of finding a way to handle the situation in the Brig, where she now had two captives who's identities and nature had to be verified. "I came to Below Decks," she said thoughtfully to the Pinkskin, walking over to a sitting area, "so I would be lying if I said I truly needed to be somewhere else. I had things on my mind, and I might just think them through here instead. I'll wait."
On one hand, she had the Intelligence Officer that had disabled a whole fleet in order to lend aid to their cause, which seemed to her more legit than the notion to not distrust the other person. Someone close to her, and who she was sure had died over a month ago. Indeed, she had seen Wenn Cinn get sucked out of that hull breach, and just over an hour ago, he had been standing there in their Flight Hangar.
Her ruminations were disturbed from time to time by the Pinkskin celebrity as he moved about, and her eye was drawn in his direction whenever he happened to open the sliding doors to the bedroom and the bathroom - be it by his intention or not. He served to be a distraction, yet admittedly not an altogether unwelcome one... In fact, he was quite a stunni-
Ida's antennae rose at her thought, and the idea came to her.
It was just a seedling of an idea, yet it made her rise from the armchair she had picked and pace the floor - pressing her fingertips to her lips while her mind worked furiously. Perhaps... Yes, it might work. I need to...
The elation she felt overcame her, and she ended up entering the bathroom - caught up in her trail-of-thought and altogether forgetting about Pinkskin shyness about showing skin. "I am sorry... I have to go, I... I really have to..."
Ida fell silent mid-apology at the sight that met her, that trail-of-thought entirely lost for a moment. She still had to leave, yet she completely forgot herself momentarily.
(https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jAoYKkSrI9E/URQ30zlbcdI/AAAAAAAABsc/nM6MyeBYcbg/s326/rory_05.png)Rory Callahan
Rory took what Ida said at face value and nodded. "Thankee," he said when she said she would wait and then he stepped into the bedroom where he looked about. He wasn't thinking about the door opening and closing, was traipsing about trying to figure out where everything was. He found a new set of clothes and hoped they would fit. He was on the tall side but knew there were a lot of chaps taller and of course just about all of them were wider given his more lanky stature.
Then he went into the bathroom where he found towels and soap, feeling absolutely thrilled to have a real shower and not that sonic thing. He knew it cleaned him but there was just something about real soap and water running over his body washing away the dirt and grime, a very physical and visual thing as opposed to the vanishing as if by magic clean. All the while, he hummed a jaunty tune and once he had everything peeled off his ash-covered clothes and stepped into the shower where he started to sing.
In the merry month of June, From my home I started,
Left the girls of Tuam, Nearly broken hearted,
Saluted me father dear, Kissed me darling mother,
Drank a pint of beer, My grief and tears to smother,
Then off to reap the corn, And leave where I was born,
Cut a stout blackthorn, To banish ghost and goblin,
In a brand new pair of brogues, go rattling o'er the bogs,
Frightening all the dogs, On the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three, four, five
Hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road and all the way to Dublin, whack-fol-la-de-da!
Just as he was finishing the chorus, Ida stepped into the bathroom and startled him out of his song. "WAAAGH!" He grasped the lower trinity in both hands though had his back to Ida, giving even more credence to her calling him Pinkskin as from head to toe turned a rather bright shade of pink that spilled over into red. "Uhhh, sure, no problem. I'll see m'self back," he said over his shoulder, thinking at least a shower curtain would be better.
Realising that she was staring, Ida shook herself from the momentary spell she had fallen under. In fact, the reason she did was the very catalyst for her idea.
"My apologies, I did not mean to startle you," she said, and her eyes fell down to see that Pinkskin had covered himself with his hands. It again reminded her about the fact that the male genetalia of most species besides Andorian were not retractable, and they had to wear their cumbersome organs outside their bodies at all times. It seemed unwieldy to Ida, even though all she could see was his glistening wet posterior. It made her clear her throat in the awkward situation, trying to come up with something to say before she left. Yet her mind unwontedly lingered on the biological phenomenon just like she imagined a Pinkskin would be mesmerised if horses or canines had their reproductive organs unsheathed all the time.
It just seemed so... unmanagable. If not bragful.
"I... I need to go to the Security Office," she said before realising that she did not have to tell him that, "Sorry for leaving you, but it is really important and..."
She really had to go. There was no way she explain or repair the offence of intruding upon Mister Callahan, and she supposed that the damage was already done with how he'd thought she'd been belittling him with name-calling in the corridor. She had no idea why she was lingering, really. The solution that the Pinkskin had helped her find returned to her thoughts, and she finally managed to turn around and set a brisk pace out of the bathroom. "Thank you," she called over her shoulder, "Thank you so much, Mister Callahan. You have saved my day."
Not to mention the entire ship and the whole mission... if she proved correct.
(https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jAoYKkSrI9E/URQ30zlbcdI/AAAAAAAABsc/nM6MyeBYcbg/s326/rory_05.png)
Rory Callahan
Ida kept looking and he truly had nowhere to go at the moment, not without revealing everything to her and given her name was eluding him at the moment, not that that had mattered in the days before he'd been stolen away on the Harbinger, he wasn't so inclined to be naked with the security officer. Yet he was also a bit at her mercy, given she was security, so he couldn't just tell her to bugger off.
She lingered and apologized again and he looked back over his shoulder at her, bobbing his head and giving her a sheepish smile. "Really, no apologies necessary. Ye've got work to do ... important stuff ... an' I c'n scrub m' own back," he tried to joke. Even though he was a bit embarrassed, when she left and called back he'd saved the day he felt a bit of a rush. "Yer welcome ... an' anytime!" he called back.
How in the world had he, a singer and suds slinger, saved the day? Was it really possible? For a moment he shifted in the shower stall, chest puffing out a bit. Then he looked at his reflection in the mirror and shook his head. "Ye ain't hero material an' ye know it. Stick t' singin', Mister. It's th' only thing ye got goin' fer ya," he scolded himself and then reveled in washing away the grime.
When he finished and dried, his longish blonde hair standing out in every direction, he pulled on the fresh clothes and plopped down on the bed. He had intended to go back to Below Decks, wanting to occupy his time and not think about walking through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, but then sleep snuck up on him and decided it had been ignored long enough, sending him into a deep and thankfully dreamless slumber.