Star Trek: Theurgy

Day 16 [1736 hrs.] Of Minutes And Macarons

March 03, 2020, 06:22:49 PM

OF MINUTES AND MACARONS
STARDATE 57597.24
MARCH 26, 2381
1736 HRS

[ Cmdr Ranaan Ducote | Arboretum Café | Deck 20 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Brutus 

Ducote had finished his shift at 1600, but after going back to his quarters to change, he found that staying at his desk for more hours of grinding away at his unending list of tasks great and small commensurate to his post was unpalatable. A change of scene, then. The work had to be done regardless. He had a regular evening meeting booked with Natalie Stark, but flicking through the agenda on his PADD revealed little of pressing importance. Just follow-ups and AOBs. He blinked as he checked it again; a fluke of timing, perhaps, but certainly one he didn't expect to repeat any time soon. After informing Albert that he'd be working elsewhere for a while, he left his quarters and ended up finding a table in the café tucked away at one end of the ship's arboretum.

His civilian clothing was somewhat spoiled by the fact it still had his combadge pinned to it, but given the scale of the job he was still in several ways catching up to, he didn't feel he could take it off unless he was on leave. And apart from the couple of days he'd taken with Blue shortly after arriving at the planet, he hadn't allowed himself any time off. He had sufficiently replenished his tanks with that, or so he thought, and so however tired he still was after the loss of the Endeavour, the arrival on the Theurgy, and everything that had happened after... he wasn't about to slack off when everyone else was working just as hard and harder than him.

He inhaled a long breath, the smell of the soil and plants in the air quite different from the sterile atmosphere issued by the environmental circuit in the rest of the ship. It didn't remind him of his tropical home, but it did still smell homely. He decided he'd have to come down here more often, if he could swing it. Mixed in was the bitter aroma of the cafetiere of coffee, and the sweeter smell of the meringues and their buttercream filling laid out on the table with him. Ducote smirked quietly to himself at the thought of what Blue would say to the knowledge of him eating these things without her. Some quip about 'not even one fucking vegetable', probably.

Tapping his badge, he said, "Stark; Ducote. Change of venue for this evening: Arboretum café. And if you turn up in uniform, I'll shoot you."

He experienced a moment of doubt as to his phrasing there, given recent events, but his tone was a joking one, and his humour had always trended towards the dark. But he wanted this meeting to be a more informal one, if there was nothing serious to discuss about the ship. It was beyond time for it, in his opinion. He was so used to knowing his seniors very well that he had been remiss in catching up with the more unfamiliar ones, and having half of the old still around on the Theurgy had tricked him into dropping it down his priority list.

Definitely one of the simpler tasks to check off his to-do, at any rate.

Re: Day 16 [1736 hrs.] Of Minutes And Macarons

Reply #1 – March 18, 2020, 10:12:27 PM

[Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Arboretum Care | Deck 20 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ]Attn: @Top Hat 
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Knowing that she had a meeting with Ducote in the future, Natalie hadn't changed out of her uniform after getting to her quarters once her shift ended. Oh, she'd ditched the shoes for the time being, and tossed the jacket over a chair, but she was still mostly dressed, and it wouldn't take long to get herself situated. For the moment she lay with her legs hanging over the arm of the couch tucked into one corner of her main room, with soft music playing. Her head lay on the cushion, and she lay with her eyes shut, covered by her arm, tossed over her head. The long, dark tresses of hair spread out behind her, as the music washed across her prone frame. For just a moment, she was blissfully at peace.

And then the call from Ducote came in. "Stark; Ducote. Change of venue for this evening: Arboretum café. And if you turn up in uniform, I'll shoot you." Natalie shot up and nearly fell out of her seat, twisting about to smack the combadge that sat on the table next to her, even as she processed his words. Her eyes went wide, and she managed a stammered, "Er...aye sir... Acknowledged." Then just as shakily, she drew her thumb across the badge, cutting the channel. Then she sagged back in the seat, holding the badge in her hand and staring across the room to where her discarded jacket hung.

The Martian officer took a slow, deep breath, and then stood, striding across the main room of her quarters, toward the sleeping cabin and her wardrobe. She wasn't entirely sure what all she had on hand, that would work. For the past few months, her attire had almost entirely consisted of her uniform, or work out clothes for those moments when she went to the gym, or exercised in her quarters. And there was no chance of her showing up at the Arboretum Cafe in her sports bra and a pair of yoga pants. Not happening. 

With a sigh, she opened her wardrobe and flipped through her options of already replicated attire. She wasn't going to summon up something new - that was a whole different kind of mild anxiety to deal with. In the end, she settled on a flannel top in a mix of blue, green and yellow, belted over her hip, and a pair of loose, but comfortable jeans that came to a bell bottom flare over her feet. Those went in to sandals. If Ducote was insisting that she dress down, then she would dress down. And never mind how weird that would feel. 

Letting her hair hang loose down over her shoulders, Natalie walked back to the table by the couch, and scooped her badge up off the table, affixing it to the left side of her chest. She fluffed her hair, looking at her self in the mirror, and pursed her lips a bit. It felt....weird, to be out of uniform, with the intent of going out of the quarters. She wondered if this was going to be come 'a thing'. So far she had yet to really get used to Ducote, and his method of management. Trent would not have invited her out to dinner to discuss status reports, and certainly not out of uniform.  Hendricks might have, when she was his Assistant, but he knew she was a generally shy woman, and did his best not to force her into a situation where she might be uncomfortable. 

Perhaps Ducote was one of those XO types that wanted his people to relax. A....personable officer. She'd had one like that years ago on another posting. Adjusting to that was going to take time, and time was a precious commodity that they did not have.

"Or you could pull your head out of your ass, Stark, and go have dinner? That's a thing, you know. It's not like you're strutting down the halls in your underwear." She  scowled at her reflection, and then laughed, adjusting the shirt one more time, before heading out of her quarters and making a beeline for the turbolift.

[10 minutes later]

Natalie walked into the cafe, pausing briefly to take a slow breath in through her nose, as she did every time she entered the room. Unlike the hermetically controlled corridors of the ship, this room, and the chamber it abutted, smelled so alive. It had become something of a haven for the Operations Chief, especially in recent days, as she'd almost taken up a permanent evening post at one of the tables. Though in more formal attire, she too had held some meetings with subordinates here, over a meal. So she couldn't fault Ducote for his choice. And, spotting the other officer, she gave a small wave and headed towards where he'd set himself up, pretending she didn't feel eyes following her. 

"I hope this is sufficient to avoid the firing squad, Commander?"

Re: Day 16 [1736 hrs.] Of Minutes And Macarons

Reply #2 – March 28, 2020, 08:58:30 PM

[ Cmdr Ranaan Ducote | Arboretum Café | Deck 20 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Brutus

Ducote munched idly on a macaron as he read through some reports. Stark had been caught off-guard by his instruction, given her uncertain reply, and he hoped he hadn't given her cause for too much awkwardness. This was supposed to be a less than formal affair, because in his experience those moments were hard to come by unless they were arranged - especially on this ship, given the fact that its shore layover had been anything but the R&R any other ship might have been able to expect.

He picked up the moment she spotted him, their meetings before now having given him the memory of her emotional 'fingerprint' as it were, and glanced up with a greeting smile as she walked over to him. "I hope this is sufficient to avoid the firing squad, Commander?" she asked.

The XO brushed some bright crumbs from his black collarless button-down, and grinned. "I'm sure I can arrange a stay of execution," he chuckled, gesturing to the other seat at their little table. The coffee in its borosilicate cafetiere was still hot, and aside from a couple of conspicuously empty spots, the plate of macarons was still full. She was entirely welcome to both. "I must beg your forgiveness, though. Looking at the agenda, this meeting could have been cancelled entirely, but I wanted to talk to you anyway. Commander's prerogative, I'm afraid," he added, with a self-aware sort of raised eyebrow.

The trip over to the Erudite was only yesterday afternoon, ship's time, but everything relevant to that had either been discussed to death by the senior staff already or was pending assessments from Thea and the engineers. And, frankly put, he had little desire to raise his blood pressure again today. This more pleasant duty wasn't exactly for Stark's benefit, after all.

"So, how are you, Nat? Personally, I mean, now you've had a chance to decompress a little. I won't pretend to fully appreciate the things you've all been through, but given how busy the counsellors have been since we got here I can't imagine there's anyone aboard that couldn't use at least a sounding board."

It wasn't so much that he expected to become friends with the senior staff, but friendly. It was chief among his responsibilities, in his mind, that he be in all ways a reliable representative of and champion for the crew. Mostly it was just a case of simply doing his job in a consistent way, but there were plenty of ways that that was an imperfect demonstrator of his concern for those in his charge. And he enjoyed getting a little more granular with his approach.

There was also the case that since the loss of the Endeavour, he had missed those little individual stories that made up the whole. Here, as he settled in, the new crew filled the void left by the old. They were almost entirely different, and had almost entirely different challenges, but it was helping his own recovery immensely to feel as if he was useful in that way again.

When it came to Natalie Stark, he was aware that there was some buried, bitter knot whenever Doctor Nicander had come up that he hadn't attempted to dig into. Atop that, the various bereavements and the ongoing stress of their situation, and all wrapped up in a relatively young and recently-elevated person. She hadn't complained in any way of which he'd been made aware, and she had stepped up in a major way when asked, but still he wondered. He didn't want to pry, of course, but if there was anything he could do for her, he would.

Re: Day 16 [1736 hrs.] Of Minutes And Macarons

Reply #3 – March 31, 2020, 06:39:16 PM

[Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Arboretum Care | Deck 20 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ]Attn: @Top Hat 
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This was the first time that she had seen Ducote in a relaxed, informal setting. Something about watching him brush crumbs off his shirt managed to humanize him, in that moment. She supposed he'd have to be the type that could relax, if he was involved with Blue Tiran. God knows that woman needed someone to temper and anchor her, and this was the first glimpse that Natalie was getting of just what that might look like.  Better him than her, she couldn't help but think, though perhaps not as unkindly as that might have sounded. All the same, he reminded her a bit more of Sten Covington, the aged but fatherly former Chief of the Deck whom would join her for breakfast once a week, than of Carrigan Trent. 

"Consider me grateful," Natalie responded, doing her best to relax and ease into the banter, foreign as it was. She could tell he was trying, and she could appreciate that, even if she still felt more like a recluse. This was rather hypocritical of her, considering the number of meals and meetings she'd had over the past two weeks, many of them right here in this room, with subordinates of her own. She kept talking about trying to break out of her shell now that her responsibility had increased so much, and that the crew had managed to find a space to breathe in, and yet here she was wanting to crawl right back into it, simply because she had been asked to dress down for a meeting. 

A seat was offered, and Natalie folded herself right into it, pulling the chair slightly closer to the table as she did so. The smell of coffee was intoxicating when mixed in with the floral scents that filled the room, and despite herself, the 2XO let out a soft sigh of pleasure as she leaned over the table, resting her arms on the edge of it. Given that there was a spare cup, it was easy to deduce that the coffee was to be shared. And though she had been trying to dial down the amount of caffeine she imbibed through the day, especially in the evening, it just smelled too good to pass up. With a glance at Ducote as he explained why he'd invited her here, she poured herself a cup, and fixed it according to her tastes. 

This served two purposes. First, she liked her coffee in a particular fashion and she was going to be sure that this was up to her standards. Not that she had any doubt that it wouldn't be, but she wasn't one of those 'black as the void we sail in' types of officers. No, Nat was a girl with a sweet tooth that had plagued her since childhood, and her coffee was no different. Cream was a must, and so too was sugar. Plenty of it. In this, she was perhaps more alike with Ducote's wife than she would like to admit. If she could ever bring herself to try one of those Twinkies there was every chance that she'd be just as addicted to the things.

Second, it allowed her a moment to collect her thoughts and figure out just how to answer the Commander. Trent had taken an interest in Natalie from a professional stand point during his tenure as the XO. He saw in her something that could be cultivated and encouraged, shaped into an officer capable of command. For all his faults, he must have been at least partially right - Captain Ives had trusted her with independent command of one of the ships Vectors when it would be operating under the auspices of the Contingency Protocols, and then, most recently, by naming her the ships Second Officer. That kind of interest was not the same as what Ducote was expressing now. How was Natalie, as a person, was fairing, and not how did things stood for the ship, or her job. 

"Well that's a bit of a question, isn't it?" Nat finally said, cradling the warm cup between her hands and leaning over it, her shoulders hunched some what as she studied the warm brown liquid, without meeting the other man's eyes.  "I have made a bit of time with Lt. Commander Hathev, though it's still been all very much the 'getting to know each other' stage of counseling so far. We don't exactly have a long-standing professional or personal relationship, so we're still testing the waters. And there is...plenty to discuss." This was accompanied by a self mocking soft laugh, and a shrug of her shoulders as she looked up at Ducote.

"As you said, they are a bit overwhelmed, and this ship could use the full services of a mental institution, with what we've gone through, and never mind the process of folding other crews in." at this she gestured to Ducote, who was an obvious example of just that. "But you asked about how I was doing, not Hathev and her team, or the crew." She was well aware that stalling came to her like as a second nature, an old friend, or a warm blanket to wrap around in the cold. It was easy for her, after years of avoiding any meaningful conversation with just about anyone. That was changed in more ways than one, and for more reasons that just the set of pips on her collar. "I've had almost as much trouble adjusting to not having to fight to stay alive over the past two weeks as I have to all the new faces.

"All of you are...a lot to take in. There are clear, established relationships among many of the senior staff, and I'm sitting on the outside of that, seeing all the ghosts of the people that, if you'll forgive the phrasing, should be sitting in your seats. People I admired and worked with hand in hand for months, if not years in some select cases. I still think of Anya Ziegler as the XO some times, even though I was there when she got her promotion and left to command the Cayuga. Never mind that there were three other officers since she left that held the position you're in now. Having Captain Ziegler come back into the picture so recently and vanish right again has made adjusting to you a bit of a trip, if we're being honest." There was no point in not being honest, after all. Given Ducote's heritage it would be impossible to lie to the man. Still, she smiled and tapped her fingers on the rim of her coffee cup. 

"You appreciate good coffee though, so clearly you're already starting off on the right foot, sir. But I guess what you are after, and what I'm trying to get at is that this has been just one more slap-in-the-face adjustment, and I'm struggling to actually relax. You're all, well, mostly, lovely," while she was having a bit of a struggle adjusting to Blue Tiran, she genuinely liked Cross, with whom there was the foundation for a possible friendship, and respected Dr. Kobol  quite a bit, based on their limited interactions. "and I appreciate the ease with which so many of the new faces as department heads are working together. In a way that makes things easy for me, but in another way, not so much.

"Plus there was that whole attempted murder thing when I went to ask about missing supplies. That'll ruin anyone's leave time. Not that I've taken much actual leave during all of this. It's hard to take time off when there is so much that could be done when we're not running around and scared for our lives. It's not all doom and gloom though, before I give that impression." She hastened to add, as if she'd already said far too much in the moment. For someone so hesitant, she was opening up and basically spewing some of the deepest concerns that had been riding along in her skull for the past two weeks at the man. All because he'd asked. 

"I've managed to rekindle an old friendship with one of our castaways from the Cayuga, Lt. Vanya." Rekindle was a good way of putting things. They were feeling each other out, after seven years apart, picking up the threads of a friendship that never really died, exactly, but had suffered from the vagaries of deployments and duty. Both women had changed and grown and whatever it was they had back at the Academy was having to adjust as well. "As much as anything during our stay here, reconnecting with her has been a blessing." Nat didn't exactly have a plethora of friends aboard the Theurgy to begin with, and even those that she'd had a professional relationship with, if not an outright friendship, were all mostly dead now. Simon Tovarek and Sten Covington, Wenn Cinn, Commander Hendricks, even Carrigan Trent. And the less said about Lucian Nicander, the better.

Re: Day 16 [1736 hrs.] Of Minutes And Macarons

Reply #4 – April 13, 2020, 05:40:08 PM

[ Cmdr Ranaan Ducote | Arboretum Café | Deck 20 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Brutus

His own coffee warmed his fingers as he sipped now and again, listening in twice to Stark as she spoke. He didn't rush her, as the informal occasion was hardly on a timetable beyond their own attention spans and the question itself had caught her off-guard. Work aside, their acquaintance was still that of near-strangers. Still, though, she made the effort to step out of her comfort zone. He could hardly blame her for dissembling - for all too long it had been his life. In several ways, it still was.

He nodded solemnly as she identified the connection between the erstwhile Endeavour staff compared to the rest of the senior cadre. It was disappointing to him that she felt on the outside of it, but there was no real way around that beyond beginning a slow process of folding her into the same group, socially speaking. This meeting would do for a start on that. The XO did have to suppress a wince at 'slap-in-the-face adjustment', however. He could well see how it could be taken that way, and would probably have seen it that way himself. And, no doubt, not have taken it with as much as grace as had Ms Stark.

Ducote smirked at the blasé way she described the events of her visit to the docks with Mr Douglas in tow. It certainly appealed to his own dark sense of humour, even if he did have some fairly firm ideas of what should happen if another jumped-up gloryhound made an attempt on the life of one of his crew.

Setting down his coffee as she finished, he shifted in his chair to get a little more comfortable.

"I know it's difficult with what's happened to the command structure on this ship recently," he said euphemistically, allowing for both the raft of knew officers in their own clique (intended or not) and the mutiny against Commander Trent. Ives particularly wanted to stamp out use of the M-word in relation to that event for the sake of morale. And that didn't even mention the murder of the outgoing XO, either, just a few days ago. "But for my part, Nat, if you catch me treating you differently than them, call me out on it. You'll be heard."

Movement in the corner of his eye made him glance away for a moment as he watched an officer wander sedately around the memorial terrace, partially obscured by the crown of a tree. A muscle ticked in his jaw... he really should take a walk around those placards himself soon. One thing at a time.

"Vanya... the android?" he confirmed. She looked Romulan, which resurrected far too many spectres for him to be truly comfortable, but the fact that she had no empathic imprint at all made her easy to distinguish for him. At least, when he could see her. He had noticed that he rarely heard her footfalls at all, and the fact he could never sense her coming up behind him made him even more nervous. Never mind that Starfleet had obviously granted her leave to stay. "I'm glad there's a more positive outcome for you with the crews getting folded into the Theurgy's company," he said, sincerely. His feelings hardly mattered when it came to someone else's friendship.

"Should I draft an order that you should take at least a couple of days for yourself?" he asked, a smile slowly spreading over his face as his eyes took on a twinkle. "For the logs, anyway. Make it look official, that you didn't have a choice... I'm sure Mister Nator can take the reins for a few days without getting any of the juniors hurt."

The tone was a half-joke, but Ducote took a similarly dim view of Nator's 'teaching' methods as Stark did. If nothing else, while the Medical crew were quite practised enough, they hardly needed the unnecessary drain on those resources when they had so many people left in stasis. She hadn't asked his intervention with hir yet (and hadn't really even hinted that she wanted it) so he was content to leave it to her. Not least of all, s/he unnerved him ever so slightly. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen hir blink while talking to him.

Ducote topped off his coffee, and held up the cafetiere in silent question as to whether Nat wanted a resupply, too.

Re: Day 16 [1736 hrs.] Of Minutes And Macarons

Reply #5 – April 16, 2020, 08:14:41 PM

[Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Arboretum Care | Deck 20 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ]Attn: @Top Hat 
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Natalie did not really know Ducote well enough to begin to decipher the little physical ticks and twitches in his face as she listened to her. The way he might furrow his brow, or how his lips might curl into a soft smile only told her so much. It was easy enough to assume that he sympathized with her current predicament, thought she had no way of knowing that he thought she was handling the transition better than he might have in her situation, were he to be the one watching most of his senior staff replaced with new faces that all knew each other, but not him. She didn't think of her self as graceful in any real sense of the word, be it physically, or in her bearing, but she would have been flattered to know he thought she had managed a certain grace to the whole transition. He'd be wrong in her book, but she would be flattered all the same. 

Still, she was able to appreciate that he understood her situation, at least from a remove. She nodded at his words, and took them to heart. "Aye sir. For what it is worth, I haven't felt professionally ignored. Not yet anyway. I think we might all be too busy for that kind of thing to happen." She wasn't much sure what could be done about the sense of familiarity that existed between Ducote and the officers that had come over from the Endeavour however.  How did one note the way an officer smiled at those he knew for months or years, compared to the nod of the head at those he had just met and was adjusting to serving with? All the same, she'd do her best to point it out the next time it happened. 

The subject of Lt. Vanya at least, was an easier one for her. It never once crossed her mind that the ships first officer would have some discomfort around the former science chief of the Cayuga, given that she would in essence be a black hole to his emphatic abilities. Nat simply brightened when he asked for confirmation and made note that it was nice to see some good coming out of all of it. In a considerably more cheerful tone, Natalie regaled him with the cliff notes version of their friendship, summarizing that, "They assigned me as her roommate at the Academy my freshman year. Fresh off the shuttle from Mars, only the second time I'd been to Earth. And there was a Romulan in my dorm room. That, or a laughing Vulcan, either of which would give a young girl a bit of fright. Still, we managed after a few stumbles. 

"It was something of a shock, discovering that she was an Android. Cadets can be nasty, despite what we like to think about ourselves as being enlightened and welcoming in the Federation. She ended up - well, never mind that. I helped to get her fixed up." She flushed slightly at the memory. "And the rest is history. I'd say knowing her is the whole cause behind that masters degree in AI, and why I have a spot on this ship." That was another thing she didn't talk about often. Not that she was shy or embarrassed about it. Far from it in fact, she took pride in her work, and the degree she had earned after her graduation from the academy, continuing work started there while stationed on the Lexington. It was simply that she rarely had the opportunity. Which was quite the shame as it was clearly a subject she still possessed a degree of enthusiasm for years later.

Her good mood there only dampened slightly when Ducote brought up ordering her to take some time off. In truth, that might be a good idea. Giving her an excuse to take some time to herself. "I'm not even sure what I would do with myself," she confessed after a moments reflection. Had the past few months not happened - had there been no infestation and the ship had plodded along about its duties across the Federation, what would Assistant Ops Chief Lt. Natalie Stark have done when offered shore leave? Hole up in her room with a book, probably, and maybe allow herself to be prodded into a day trip to a planet or starbase for shopping or some such thing like that. Which she could very easily do down on Aldea. She had approved more than enough leave applications for folks to hit up the local beaches to know that they were a popular destination. She herself had missed out on a cruise being offered by the locals for the express benefit of the Theurgy, opting instead to stay aboard and see to it that more of her people got to rotate down. 

And speaking of her people..."Lt. Nator has not yet sent anyone else to sickbay that I am aware of, but I would be remiss if I did not make note that it has been an underlying concern. They are rising to the occasion fairly well, if in hir rather typically caustic fashion. In truth I've dumped a lot of responsibility on hir shoulders while I've taken on new duties. " Natalie had done her best to try to delegate more - another lesson from the recently departed Carrigan Trent. Not all of his advice was bad, and she had managed to learn from him. She just hoped she could avoid his mistakes in the future. Pushing her cup forward, Natalie allowed the XO to top off her coffee, and then she pulled it back in, snagging a cookie and using the excuse of chewing and swallowing to collect her thoughts.

"I am going to have to find another assistant. I think part of why I have been hesitant to take leave is because it would be all on Mr. Nator's shoulders, and hir abrasive tendencies and explosive teaching methods aside, s/he is a very capable officer. But the job truly needs two people at that level and well..." she let her voice trial off. Shar had come off of the Endeavour, and she had been tapped to hold down the other assistant position. And she was gone, leaving Natalie without her left hand woman. Her right hand...hermit was a work in progress in hir own right. "I guess I just couldn't see Commander Hendricks taking a day off in a situation like this. Even if it was for his own good, and I find myself emulating that. Even if I don't think about it until I get plied with cookies and coffee." Nat allowed a trace of wry humor to drip into her words as she raised the mug in a sort of toast to Ducotes methods. 

Re: Day 16 [1736 hrs.] Of Minutes And Macarons

Reply #6 – May 06, 2020, 01:22:31 AM

[ Cmdr Ranaan Ducote | Arboretum Café | Deck 20 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Brutus

Romulans. They always seemed to come up, somehow, wherever he went. The Federation's oldest enemy - from before there was a Federation - looming like a spectre whenever he thought he was away from them. As 'away' as 'neighbouring interstellar superpower' ever got, anyway. But that way lay his seductive paranoia, practically a safety blanket by now. He could almost hear the voice of his therapist, Hadiya, in his head. The hybrid missed the perennially-cheery lieutenant more the longer he went without regular contact with home.

Outwardly, though, he nodded through her recollection. "A few months into my assignment to the Endeavour we took on a cohort of final-years for their cadet cruise. We had a Romulan among them - Laurel Okhala. One of her fellow cadets engaged in a fairly vicious bullying campaign I had to put a stop to... they ended up dating each other by the time they made ensign. Not sure what happened there, to be honest." Ducote pursed his lips a little before sipping his coffee. "She... was killed on the Versant, I believe."

Another reason he really ought to take a walk around that terrace.

Stark kept them on-topic though, talking about work and the wonders of leveraging one's staff. "'Delegation is the key to success'," he quoted, with a smile. "It's not entirely down to laziness, why I leave you department leads to it as much as I can..." He found he had to refill his cup again, but reached for a macaron instead. Yeah, Blue will be mad when she finds out I had cookies without her.

"I'll sign off on whoever you choose to replace Shar," he said. It felt strange even to say; she'd been in the role basically on paper only, before the fallout from the Savi bondgroup rape/experiment drove her to fly home. "I doubt there's any among your company who don't have the relevant experience, by now..." he added, as he crunched into the light confection. "I'm happy to sit down with you and go over candidates, if you'd like or need."

"I guess I just couldn't see Commander Hendricks taking a day off in a situation like this. Even if it was for his own good, and I find myself emulating that. Even if I don't think about it until I get plied with cookies and coffee."

The former CoO, he recalled from a file. He nodded slowly, fully understanding the desire to emulate or exceed a former superior. Or mentor, perhaps. He did offer an appreciative smile at her joke, though. "At the risk of stating the obvious, Nat, you're not him. Even if you do end up doing nothing but sleep, or staring out the porthole, or... I don't know, going on a consciousness-expanding bender with the finest psychotropics the Syndicate has to offer... the ship isn't the only thing that needs a layover here. The crew is in a terrible state," he said, with no hint of insult in his voice. Mere statement of fact. She would well know how heavy the use of the holodecks had been already since they'd been reopened to the ship's complement. They were well-drilled, of course, thanks to the combined efforts of Commander Trent to keep them sharp and Task Force Archeron to blow them out of the sky, but it didn't take an empath to see that morale was mostly in the pits.

"You said yourself, you've been fighting for months. You've more than earned forty or so hours to yourself, surely?"

Pot, kettle, black, a sneaky little voice put in, entirely unconcerned that he'd already done exactly that a week and a half ago already, and after a far shorter ordeal than theirs.

Re: Day 16 [1736 hrs.] Of Minutes And Macarons

Reply #7 – May 09, 2020, 01:02:01 AM

[Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Arboretum Care | Deck 20 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ]Attn: @Top Hat 
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It seemed that there was little point in putting off the search much longer. Yes, she was still adjusting to her new department make up, and yes, the most suitable candidate had fled the ship for reasons that Natalie did not know, but tried all the same not to hold against her. But Ductoe knew the people that had come over from the Endeavour, and Natalie knew those that were originally from the Theurgy, as well as having had the time to grow accustomed to the officers that had joined since the fiasco at Jupiter Station  and their long flight leading to the battle of the Apertures.  True, knew crew was slowly trickling in, routed from various locals by Admiral Anderson in Starfleet Intelligence, the occasional misfit officer or specialist that the Admiral trusted enough to send the way of the Theurgy, clandestinely. A suitable candidate might arrive any day from him, but unless and until someone just fell into Natalie';s lap, she would be better served, as would the ship as a whole, with selecting someone from the current ranks and easing the burden on Mr. Nator's shoulders, as well as her own.

"I will review the roster soon and submit a list for us to go over," Natalie conceded. Ducote was willing to help her go through any potential candidates after all. Putting things off any longer was simply her stubbornness, kicking the can down the road for future Nat to deal with. The time for that was over. "A second set of eyes will go a long way toward nailing down an officer for the position." She knew she would also have to consider senior NCO's as possibilities. After all, she had been guiding Liam Herrold through his officers tests, having made him Chief of the Deck, and an Ensign to boot. If she could utilize Herrold in such a fashion, there was no reason that she could not do the same for one of her senior NCO's. That wasn't to say that suitable candidates did not also exist in the officer pool that reported to her. Simply an acknowledgement of what she had learned since coming into command.

Sometimes it wasn't the rank that mattered, it was the job the person did.  An NCO with years of experience in their field was likely a better candidate than an officer fresh from the Academy, as an example. She wasn't sure it would come down to that, but she wasn't going to rule that out, either.

Equally clear to Natalie was that she would no longer be able to put off scheduling some down time. Though she nearly choked on her coffee when the XO seemed to suggest - if not outright endorse - a drug laced bender. Coughing and swallowing a treacherous mouthful of coffee that had tried to cut short her promising career in Starfleet, the Ops Chief sat back in her chair and thumped her fist against her chest for a moment, before roughly repeating, "A consciousness-expanding bender with the finest psychotropics the Syndicate has to offer? I honestly didn't know that that was an option." She coughed to clear her throat again, before adding. "Clearly this is what I should have been doing all along. Silly me." If the First Officer had been intending to shock her out of whatever reluctance she'd had toward the idea of going to the planet (or simply taking a break), he had done a decent job, as Nat managed a slightly breathless giggle.

Returning to the killer coffee, she took a careful sip and mulled over Ducote's advice. One of the many reasons that she had been putting off some time for herself was that the crew really was in a right state, and in need of a break, before they broke. Desperately. She'd been so hell-bent on seeing to it that everyone else in her department or under her purview got that needed time that she as of yet had failed to take her own needs into account. A few days...would it really hurt? There was little chance that the ship would self-destruct in orbit the moment she went down to the planet to relax, right?  Natalie sighed in defeat.

"I'd like a day to go over the duty roster first and make sure we aren't leaving any significant gaps that I'd intended to personally fill, sir," she ventured forth. Provided the whole system didn't go to hell tomorrow...then starting her leave after a Friday shift seemed a bit fitting. "I'd close out the week tomorrow and then find something to do for a few days?" Off ship, she decided. She would have to find something to do off ship. There was nothing else for it - she'd have to ask Vanya for advice on what to do with time off. Natalie herself, didn't have a clue.

Re: Day 16 [1736 hrs.] Of Minutes And Macarons

Reply #8 – May 13, 2020, 09:17:50 PM

[ Cmdr Ranaan Ducote | Arboretum Café | Deck 20 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Brutus 

Nat agreed to let him help pick some candidates for the second assistant position, and he made a mental note to make sure he had a good chunk of time free to do that in the near future. Useless to offer his services and then be busy or otherwise unavailable to her. He was already having to make compromises on the command style to which he'd become accustomed on the Endeavour, simply because this crew was double the size. He could only be in so many places at once, and there were never enough hours in the day to be as present as he wished.

Ducote did have to grin at the reaction to his joke, and the rejoinder from Stark. It was never going to be truly instant, but he was glad she was able to relax a little around him when it came to these mostly-informal occasions. In uniform, on deck, they would only ever be Commanders Ducote and Stark, but in conversation, they were Nat and whatever she wanted to call him. "They're an option, sure. Just take a tricorder with you to make sure you know what you're taking, I guess. Jokes aside; same rule applies to us as I gave for the rest of the crew - as long as people can turn up to their assigned shifts in a fit state to work, I don't mind what it takes to get people back on their feet."

She took a pause to sip her coffee, so he mirrored her. It really was excellent coffee, but a stubborn part of his brain that refused to let go still missed the blends in the Endeavour's library. Now he thought of it, he had never actually looked up what the replicator file was. Not as if he could go back and check now.

But - victory! She acquiesced to a break. The XO smiled over the table at her, laugh-lines crinkling as he suppressed a chuckle at her air of resignation. "Excellent. If I see you before the weekend's out I'll make sure to alert Security," he said, in the same tone in which his summons had been issued. "And who knows, perhaps I'll even get Nator to tolerate me for the interim. I'm sure stranger things have happened."

He fished for another macaron (sky blue, this time), and set it on his cup saucer before looking back at Natalie. "I can recommend the hiking down there, if you're interested in that sort of thing," he said, referring to Aldea. "Stunning views and the trails seem reasonably safe, but a guide is probably wise. I've heard nothing but good things about the beaches... but they don't hold a great draw for me, personally. I grew up in Rio de Janeiro, so the seaside is rather old-hat." He looked down as he concentrated on the delicate task of snapping the cookie without crushing it, and then looked up again. "And that, ah, sort of depends on you being the outdoorsy type I guess..."

Re: Day 16 [1736 hrs.] Of Minutes And Macarons

Reply #9 – May 14, 2020, 06:47:18 PM

[Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Arboretum Care | Deck 20 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ]Attn: @Top Hat 
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"I rarely go anywhere without a tricorder attached to my hip," she glanced down at her waist, the belt that she had strapped over her flannel shirt and comfortable pants, and the distinct lack of tricorder and shrugged her shoulders. "Tonight is apparently one of those rare moments, I suppose. Even off duty I usually have the thing on hand, as well as a stack of PaDDs to research something or another. Compulsive tinkerer." Having thus confessed, Natalie added, "For what it is worth I doubt I'll uh...partake, but I will keep the rules in mind. Nothing that will leave me unable to preform at my next duty shift." The sheer thought of her going on a mind-numbing bender was ludicrous to the young woman. Adventurous and Natalie were two words that did not go hand in hand. 

For a moment, Natalie tried to picture the two officers, Ducote and Nator getting along. She snorted out a laugh and covered her mouth, shaking her head, then reaching for another of the almond cookies, rolling it around in her fingers. "Should you happen to figure out the secret to that, please do let me know. I think I've gone from 'loath entirely' to inconvenient but capable' in Mr. Nators estimates. Which is about as close to 'like' as I think s/he is capable of, but tolerate might be too strong a word for hir feelings."p In truth, She knew that the grumpy hermat was glad to see that she had survived Jupiter station, and all the mess that had followed. They might never be friends, but there was a respect there. Even if both Chief and Assistant got on each others nerves fairly easily. It was a workable relationship, and Natalie would have missed the irascible officer if they had not survived their surgery. 

Was it perhaps telling that she found the idea of Nator and Ducote getting along far less plausible than Ducote ordering Security to keep an eye out to make sure she didn't board the ship during her off time? Probably. 

Natalie allowed a faint smile to pass over her lips, as she once again cradled the mug of coffee in her hands.  Her gaze darted out over her shoulder, looking into the Arboretum proper. It was easy enough to recall her stroll a little over a week ago with Lt. Commander Cross, winding their way through the warm, inviting grounds. "I grew up at Bradbury Point, on Mars," she began, the words familiar, having had similar conversations in the past few months, with old friends and new. Whether her and the commander would become friends would be something that was far too soon to tell. "It's right on - funnily enough - Bradbury Lake. Lots of big cliff sided dwellings, built right into the Martian rock. Stunning views.  Never really saw hiking as something fun though. Getting anywhere around the township was a hike and a half, usually up four or five switch backs."

Allowing herself a laugh at the memories, and complaints of a young girl about everything taking too long, she turned her gaze back to the Commander. "Half the house was built outside, in a sense. We had as much outdoor living space as we did indoors. And my father loves to go sailing on the lake. I can't count the number of weekends we'd go out on the boat, doing a full circuit and letting the winds guide us. I'm not really sure what the sailing options are down on the planet. Not sure I'd trust myself alone on a boat in unfamiliar waters. Though I do know there was the yacht party function earlier today. But maybe that will be something to look into. 

"At least that's my idea of out door fun. Not exactly something you get to do every day on a starship, though there is the holodeck." It was not lost on Natalie that she was assuming that she would be looking for solo activities. She was never really the type of person to get a lot of friend together to go on a trip or anything like that. 

Re: Day 16 [1736 hrs.] Of Minutes And Macarons

Reply #10 – May 20, 2020, 06:37:24 PM

[ Cmdr Ranaan Ducote | Arboretum Café | Deck 20 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Brutus 

He was getting the impression that Natalie was a fairly serious individual even out of a work environment. He hadn't really thought she'd go for his tongue-in-cheek offer to go and get blasted on narcotics on the surface, but he appreciated the fact that she told him her habits in that regard. God knew this ship had lost enough of its people to enemy action already without their recreation claiming any more. AWOLs not included, of course.

Her assessment of Nator certainly gelled with what he'd heard otherwise on the ship from hir contemporaries, but s/he rode the line just close enough that he didn't feel the need to get involved - and at any rate he'd leave Stark to run her own department as she wanted without needless undermining from him. If she referred Nator to him, well, he'd do his thing. But in the meantime there was no need to interrupt their (essential) work.

Ducote nodded along with Nat's description of home. He had something of an Earther's image of Mars, though, so it was in some ways surprising to hear. There were plenty of people who might view where he grew up with similar interest, he reflected. What was normal to oneself was not necessarily so to others. "Y'know, I've never actually visited Mars. Even after its terraforming I suppose I always just thought it was geodesic domes and endless rusty desert," he said, looking into the middle distance with a pensive expression. "I had no idea I held that view until now." The XO looked back down towards his opposite. "I can relate to hiking being less than a recreational pursuit, though. For all its stretches of seafront, Rio has its share of hills... there's this little boteco - ah, like a roadside bar - halfway up Corcovado Mountain that has been my favourite ever since I found it. But the best way to get there is to walk, and well, even for a native like me the humidity can be killer," he chuckled.

"Gotta say that what I saw of the bay in Aldea Prime looked lovely, for all that I saw it at night." His 'pursuit' of Ensign ch'Xinya had taken him to the Aldean promenade, and even though most of that trip had been spent in some seedy nightclub, the walk to and from the beam-in point had been illuminating. "Seems calm enough, and there were adequate safety cutters about to catch the odd parasailor or whoever that got caught out. But at any rate I'm glad I got you to think about it; I know full-well what it's like to throw yourself at work."

She hadn't really mentioned anyone else beyond the android, which might not have been that surprising given the limited nature of their social contact so far, but scanning back through what he remembered of all their other interactions didn't reveal much in the way of non-work-related names either. "Was it just you and your father back home?" he asked as an oblique way to get to the subject. Anyone was entitled to their potential introversion (or just plain being anti-social), of course, but if Nat wasn't one he didn't want her to feel isolated by her position here either. Loneliness was a poisonous thing.

Re: Day 16 [1736 hrs.] Of Minutes And Macarons

Reply #11 – May 22, 2020, 03:42:21 AM

[Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Arboretum Care | Deck 20 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ]Attn: @Top Hat 
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"Most people that haven't visited the planet, or only go to the dockyards of Utopia Planitia have that opinion. Doesn't help that a large portion of the surface right under the dock yards where they do more ship work is basically a red dirt desert with some domes and fore-fields." Nat smiled softly, thinking of her father working in the yards. The smile dulled a bit - thinking of her father, working at the yards, and thinking his daughter a traitor to the Federation and everything they both swore an oath to. It left a bitter taste in her mouth, and a sip of coffee did little to help vanquish it. Still, she carried on.

'If we ever get through all of this in one peice, and if Mars is still around I can give you a few recommendations. Where I grew  up, its all cliff dwellings; based off old Hopi-Pueblo styles, with some Navajo mixed in. A large number of what used to be called Native American tribes were the original settlers of the planet. Though whomever named it Bradbury Point had to be a sci-fi fan. That's where I grew up. On the sheer walls of a long, deep valley that opened up into one of Mar's few lakes Called Lake Bradbury or Lake Casini, depending on who you asked." She grinned wide at that. She paused, and then tapped a finger on the rim of her glass. "Speaking of bars - or well eating, never was much into alcohol back home either, but food; how similar is Brazilian food to Tex-Mex? That's the basis of a lot of Martian cuisine, at least where I grew up." 

Natalie didn't know about the specifics when it came to Ducote's trip down to the planet, but took his words for granted. She wondered how the bay might compare to the lake she grew up on. Were the oceans on Aldea salt water? There were no bodies of salt water on Mars. She'd find out soon enough; one whiff of the ocean would be all she'd need to know. Nat had learned that on Earth at the Academy. San Francisco Bay, and more so, the Pacific Ocean proper, smelled nothing at all like what she'd grown up with. Since then she'd been to many oceans's on many worlds. None ever quite smelled like home - and none were as bad as the ocean of silicon she'd seen during one planetary survey. Still, she reasoned that if there were plenty of ships out on the water to help anyone that got in trouble, then she just might be able to rent a small sailing craft.Alone with the wind and the waves...there were worse ways to spend a few days. And it's not like I wouldn't be able to call the ship in an emergency...

The commanders next question broke her out of her memories in one way and then sent her plunging right back into them. Like stepping out of a hot bath and jumping into a tub of ice water. She shivered visibly and shut her eyes for a brief moment, then offered up a weak smile. "Yes. For almost ten years now, it's been the two of us. He's a worker at the Utopia Planita, a shift foreman. Or at least he was when I left on the mission to Romulus. I hadn't had a chance to reconnect with him when we got back to the Sol System before everything went to hell and we had to run away as fast as we could. I don't think that he's been fired or anything like that for guilt by association, but I don't really know."

But Natalie had encountered this kind of question enough times in the past to know that simply leaving things there would lead to more questions and draw things out. And she was smart enough to tell that Ducote would be able to tell in any event, that there was more to the story. And...it really had been almost 10 years. Rolling the mug of coffee between her hands, she gave a shrug. "About three years before I joined the Academy we lost my mother and older brother. Shuttle accident. Those things do still happen, even in the Sol System. That just left Daddy and me. Oh, and some estranged relatives from my mothers side of the family, on Earth." Her tone was rather dismissive when it came to them. No love lost there. Quite the opposite, in fact, though only one person in the crew currently knew the full details of that particular mess, having been present for an attempted reunion.

"He did as good a job as he could after that, doing his best to be there for me even as he was hurting. You could say we were very close." She smiled warmly. Even before her brother's passing, she had always been her fathers little girl.

Re: Day 16 [1736 hrs.] Of Minutes And Macarons

Reply #12 – May 26, 2020, 06:55:18 PM

[ Cmdr Ranaan Ducote | Arboretum Café | Deck 20 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Brutus

Ducote listened to Nat's recollection, enjoying the unique sensation of homely nostalgia that came with her description. He went to replenish his coffee again, but noticed they'd drained the cafetiere during their chat... a quick tapped request into the table's little embedded PADD had the café's holographic staff bring over a fresh pot. He flashed a grateful toothless smile to the server out of habit, despite it not being strictly necessary.

"It's similar, yes. Lots of rice, beans, and meat; trends towards the hearty and well-seasoned. I somehow thought Martian cuisine would have been more... alien," he admitted, laughing quietly. "Conveniently for me, Brazilian food also doesn't look as healthy as it can be, so it's less of a fight to get our Chief Engineer to eat something other than a damn twinkie now and again," his eye twinkled.

He had to take another look at Stark as he registered the bucket of ice water he'd poured down her neck with his question about her family. A small crease appeared between his brows as he wondered just how much strain she was under thanks to life in general. Nicander, her family, the Theurgy's situation in general. "I'm sorry to hear it, Nat," he offered in condolence first. He cleared some of the gathering gravel out of his throat. "I'm glad you're close to your father, though."

For an indulgent moment, he wondered what that sort of relationship felt like, before he dismissed the notion. It was hardly appropriate to turn this moment towards himself.

"I would like to say that your father is probably safe; guilt by mere association isn't generally the Federation's way. But God knows, now. The parasites are a whole new variable. I thought my family might have been safer even than yours, if they remain unaware of my survival... but if the parasites know then the bets are off." He sipped his fresh coffee, just as excellent as the first brew. "Terrible shame we're going to beat the shit out of 'em first. I'm sure your dad will be fine."

Another macaron. If he wasn't careful he was going to inherit Blue's eating habits. He was going to ask whether she was happy with her social situation, but the framing was important. He didn't want to impose or suggest that however she comported herself was wrong somehow, especially if she was content with it. Something occurred to him from an earlier part of their conversation that offered a solution rather than implying a problem.

"There was a... tradition? I suppose you'd call it. Or a habit?" he brushed a crumb from the corner of his mouth as he pulled a dismissive face regarding the actual verbiage, "on the Endeavour that I'd like to resurrect," he said. "A regular social between the senior staff. The event and location would change, and obviously not everyone could make every session depending on duty shifts and so on... but the key was the regularity. Part of that established relationship you mentioned," he smiled.

"I'm not sure when that'll restart, but I think it would be good to get it going again. So keep an eye on your inbox; I'll put together a Brazilian spread for everyone. Attendance optional but preferred."

Whenever that'll be, he wondered. They were laid over at the moment, but that didn't mean they weren't busy.

Re: Day 16 [1736 hrs.] Of Minutes And Macarons

Reply #13 – May 29, 2020, 11:26:06 PM

[Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Arboretum Care | Deck 20 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ]Attn: @Top Hat 
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Ducote reacted about the way most people did when they learned of the loss that Natalie and her father had experienced almost a decade prior. The remorse of bringing the subject up was there, the expression of sorrow over the loss. That 'oops, my foot's in my mouth' sort of countenance that had flickered ever so briefly across his face. Sympathy and discomfort at how to deal with someone else's old personal wounds. Time had done quite a bit to heal it. The recent unpleasantness with the infested, and being branded a traitor, had opened the wound up a bit all over again all the same. New worries piled atop old pains. All the same, she hadn't expected to let out a spurt of laughter at the way the man casually addressed the over-arching machinations of the parasites in a simple declaration that they would 'beat the shit out of them'. 

If he'd been intending to shock her out of any possible funk, it had worked, and she leaned back in her chair using a hand to cover up her guffaw. She shook her head a bit from side to side. "Well when you put it that way, there really isn't any cause for worry at all." She topped off her coffee. She'd take a supplement if she had trouble sleeping later after all of this. Nat didn't like to mix uppers and downers, caffeine and sleep aids, but today was going to be an exception to the rule it seemed. The fresh coffee the hologram had provided was simply too tempting to pass up, and as long as she didn't make a new habit of this, she should be all right. They were in a dockyard after all. It wasn't like when Natalie had been in command of the Stallion and mainlining coffee and Diphenhydramine from the metaphorical sun up to sun down. 

Setting the mug down with the taste fresh on her lips, she listened with more than passing interest in what Ducote was putting forth. What amounted to a senior staff mixer, as far as she could tell. This wasn't the kind of thing that Captain Ives had done in the past, but it struck her as something Anya Ziegler might have put together during her tenure as first officer (none of the other XO's had really been around long enough to set something up like that, though Natalie wasn't about to tell Ducote that). It wasn't a bad idea by any means though. Even if she wasn't sure she'd be comfortable schmoozing with a bunch of people she didn't know very well. That's how you fix it, Nat, she pointed out to herself in a dry tone that she rarely employed vocally (except perhaps with Nator 159).

A slow nod preceded her carefully chosen words. "I think the last time the crew did something like that was on Theta Eridani IV; that wasn't reserved for just the senior staff either, of course." And it had ended in tragedy, but she wasn't going to tell him that, either. "As for the staff as a whole, I don't recall us doing anything like that since i became one of the senior staff. There might have been some regular get together back when I was just an Assistant chief. Doesn't mean I think its a bad idea though," she noted, pointing at him with one finger from the hand wrapped around the coffee cup. By saying that, she just obligated herself to show up. Oops. 

"You certainly won't be lacking options for locations either. We have lounges on all three vectors, including the officers only Spearhead Lounge, a plethora of mess hall's; we have the arboretum as well as the cafe, obviously." She waved her hand in a circle to indicate the room they were in. Then she started ticking off options on her fingers. "There are the gyms, though I'm not sure anyone will thank you if you make the exercise. The holodeck's are another obvious option. Stellar Cartography could do for a change of pace I suppose. Or one of the VIP quarters for that matter. The baths exist as well, though again, not sure how that would go over." For a creature as anti-social as she trended, she seemed far more interested in the idea than she had any real right to be. 

Shrugging a bit, she leaned back into her chair once more and took her mug in both hands, resting it on her chest and watching the other man. The last time she had done any serious drinking in one of the lounges, it had been shortly before the raid on Starbase 84. She'd shared a quiet drink and pleasant memories with Wenn Cinn and Lucan Nicander, the latter noting how Hendricks would have done the same with them as Natalie was at that moment. She lowered her gaze and let out a soft sigh. Funny to think of it, but things were simpler those few short weeks ago than they were now. For one, Wenn Cinn was still alive. And Lucan Nicander was a one time lover and trusted colleague, and not...what he'd actually been, that she simply didn't realize. 

Is it possible for you to think of anything in a positive light tonight, Nat? Or are you bound and determined to let every little thought lead back to something dark and nasty. You really do need shore leave, don't you? She told her inner voice to shut up. But she didn't tell her inner voice that it was wrong. "In any event, I imagine your fellow officers from the Endeavour would appreciate reclaiming an old tradition. And those of us here could use some socialization. Lord knows we need it."

Re: Day 16 [1736 hrs.] Of Minutes And Macarons

Reply #14 – June 04, 2020, 09:12:57 PM

[ Cmdr Ranaan Ducote | Arboretum Café | Deck 20 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Brutus 

He had to credit Stark; for all the various conflicting emotions he picked up when they bubbled nearer the surface she always seemed to forge on regardless. Ducote decided that he liked Nat, now that he had a glimpse behind the curtain formed of their uniformed duties. It was a realisation he was coming to regarding most of the Theurgy-native officers - that they were all just as likeable and professional as any he'd met. It felt odd even admitting to himself that he held such a view, the implications of its opposite.

Something to be said for even a few months of FNN propaganda about this ship specifically, but he had to wonder how much of their reporting had been less than on-the-level over the years, now. Obviously biased editorials were one thing and easily dismissed, but when you assume you have all facts available...

Ducote shook his head slowly in mild wonder at the various options the ship offered. The Endeavour had had its mission pod which gave it the option of lavish and extensive diplomatic facilities, but for almost all of his time aboard her they'd used either the standard configuration or the scientific module. "Until I saw this ship I would have said to anyone that 'diplomatic dreadnought' was a contradiction in terms. It probably still is, but I never thought someone would build one."

The hybrid topped off his coffee again, thoroughly enjoying it.

"... And those of us here could use some socialisation. Lord knows we need it."

"Mm," Ducote agreed, the sound little more than a short rumble in his damaged throat. "That's exactly why I want to resurrect it. While we have the time, and the breathing room. I think I've read all of the overview reports since Sol now, and I am genuinely amazed you all held up so well as you did. Santa Maria, I'm surprised it wasn't worse. But if we can get everyone refreshed and ready to pull together by the time we have to go, all the better."

He reached for the plate again, but there was only one macaron left.

"Ah, please, Natalie," he said, gesturing to the little cookie with an open hand, "save me from myself," he chuckled.

Re: Day 16 [1736 hrs.] Of Minutes And Macarons

Reply #15 – June 05, 2020, 06:55:40 PM

[Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Arboretum Care | Deck 20 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ]Attn: @Top Hat 
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Would that Natalie could read Ducote as well as he seemed to read her; she would have been quite surprised to know his views on the resilience of the crew of the Theurgy in general, and the ships Second officer in particular. She would have argued that, having no other choice, what else could she have done? There wasn't anything special about not having had the time to fall apart. She would be wrong, of course, but she would have made the argument all the same. Just as she would if and when the point came up with Lt. Commander Hathev during one of the counseling sessions that Natalie had reluctantly volunteered herself for. Not for the first time, the thought I can't give an order I wouldn't follow myself, would have applied to the situation at hand.  Be it therapy sessions, or shore leave.

As for the Federation News Network - having been on the receiving end of their state backed lies for months now, Natalie had almost entirely lost all faith in the fourth estate to do their job objectively. Certainly not the first time in the history of humanity - or any of the other species that made up the Federation - where journalistic integrity had been called into question or brought under the heel of tyrants. Even if they didn't realize it was happening.

Glum though that might all be, she still laughed softly at the First Officer's observations on the basic premise of the Theurgy and her sister ships. "Well, who was it that said 'speak softly and carry a big stick?" Or something to that effect? Thea makes for a very pretty, very big stick. When I got my transfer orders as we were bringing the t'Zahn for decommissioning, one of my colleagues had compared Thea to a heavily armed luxury cruise liner. Given some of the amenities here that I've never seen on any  of the other ship I've served, or some starbases I've stayed over at, for that matter, I'd have to say they were right." Frowning for a moment, she drummed her fingers on the table-top. "I think I sent them a message about that while we were on the way to Romulus. Thea makes a fast impression." She found nothing odd about referring to the ship by the name of her avatar.

Reflecting on the Commanders qualified reply, Natalie found herself looking out into the Arboretum. From where they sat, she could not see the memorial wall; it would be situated beneath them, from her angle. Still, she could feel it, the weight of it. "If we are given the time. Two weeks have passed since we got here and that's been a blessing, I won't deny it. But the question really is, how much time do we need, really need, for a crew this size, this weary, and this..mish-mash to heal and grow into a cohesive unit?" A question that only time could answer. In Natalie's mind, there were far too many of those questions with little to no immediately available answers.

But at last they came to something that Natalie could act on, at least. It might not be a deep, philosophical matter on the fate and future of the Theurgy and the dark world they currently lived in (no matter how bright Aldea was), but the matter at hand was of sweet import. "Well...only because you asked." Before she'd come into the cafe, she could not have imagined making such a joke with the Commander. She had set him up somewhat on a pedestal, and it was good to be reminded that he was an actual person. Deftly she took the last small cookie, rolling it back and forth between finger and thumb, before popping it into her mouth and making it vanish quickly. She'd always had that sweet tooth after all...So what if it went right to her hips? In a few days she was sure she'd be doing plenty of walking around on Aldea to burn it all off.

Still, she'd need to go eat something more substantial than a plate full of cookies, accompanying entirely too many cups of coffee. Part of her mind contemplated future dinner options while the rest of her focused on washing down the last of the Macarons.  Padding her mouth dry with a napkin she declared. "You are saved, sir."

-FIN