The Wrong Foot
Posted on Wed Oct 2nd, 2024 @ 5:53am by Ensign Vivienne Conrad & Ensign Ziahli Lorel & Ensign Ezmyrae Varin
Edited on on Wed Oct 2nd, 2024 @ 6:02am
Mission:
Into the Qniverse
Location: Personal Quarters, USS Athena
Timeline: Morning after the party.
1804 words - 3.6 OF Standard Post Measure
"Thanks again for showing me to quarters. I, uh, didn't realise it would require a Security escort."
"Oh, it doesn't. I'm just avoiding Main Security at the moment, everyone's a little on edge. It's been an interesting 24-hours."
Unsure exactly what to make of that information, Myra watched the dark ponytail swing pendulum as her welcoming party moved swiftly down the corridor and wondered where the Betazoid pulled that level of energy from so early in the morning. So much of hers had been spent on nervous anticipation, an eagerness that hadn't been aided much by the delay in boarding that had only the vague explanation of 'incident management' to really drive home an ambiguous sense of alarm. A pleasure resort had already been about the oddest rendezvous point she could think of, the young Trill hadn't expected to actually have time to explore the planet's surface. Breakfast had been pleasant enough but several hours after her expected boarding time and she had been about ready to offer to sit in the Operations office until someone could process her documents. It had nearly come down to that, in fact, had it not been the timely rescue of her current tour guide.
"It's proving to be expectation around here," Zia was still explaining, though Myra had missed the sentence that connected the last two comments she'd actually heard. "It's unlikely that a Prometheus-class ship would be boring, I guess, but all I can say is, I hope you like adventure. We seem to attract enough of it."
Myra considered the prospect for a moment. "All part of the StarFleet experience, right?" As the other woman turned around, the Trill offered her what was meant to be a warm smile of confidence despite the fact that Myra wasn't entirely sure a telepath would buy it. "Just not too many casualties on my first day, I hope. Has there, uh, been any with this recent...incident?"
Zia paused to allow the newcomer to fall into step beside her and shook her head thoughtfully. "Not that I've heard, though Counselling could have their work cut out for them. Commander Zora's birthday party had a brief encounter with mass hallucination reputedly." It wasn't the full story and, having been present at the party but unaffected as far as she could tell, Zia had been left with only her usual zeal for investigating driving an instinct to learn more. There would be time to twist Kevan's arm about it later, if only to figure out how much the experience had affected him, but for now and in the absence of an official Security briefing, Zia was left with only titbits and speculation.
"Oh."
It wasn't a particularly profound response but Myra took a moment to process the implication, left only with the assumption that she hadn't just joined a crew prone to recreational drug use.
"It could still be a medical episode depending on the cause," she pointed out. So much for a quiet first day.
"Maybe." The Betazoid's agreement was easy-going whilst also seeming unconvinced. "They all seem fine anyway, just extra grumpy."
The rest of the walk to quarters didn't pass exactly quietly, Zia seemed perfectly capable of carrying an entire conversation on her own and Myra was inclined to let her, offering answers to questions when prompted but otherwise allowing the vivacious woman's enthusiasm to fuel the momentum forward. Despite having been alone for most of the connecting flight and the unexpected delay, both instances had involved being surrounded by other people and the Trill was craving a moment of true solitude just to clear the fog from her mind. With only her personal satchel over her shoulder, and a PADD clutched against her stomach, Myra knew it would take a little while for the frazzled crew to transport over the bulk of her belongings but that didn't matter. A cup of tea and a chance to finish a thought without being interrupted would be plenty.
"Here we go," Zia declared eventually, sweeping an arm towards the open door once she'd activated the release. There was a brief moment of relief before the unexpected sound of muttered expletives filtered out from what turned out to be the bathroom, once intrigue and curiosity had prompted the Betazoid to forego ceremony and move in ahead of the room's intended occupant to investigate the source of the intrusion. Knelt on the floor, bent at an awkward angle to access the shower's controls, a disgruntled engineer froze mid-adjustment and just stared at the two women now framed by the doorway.
"You're early."
"Ensign Conrad, meet Ensign Varin. You're currently in her shower."
Zia's arched eyebrow had done very little to curb Conrad's annoyance. "Flawless observation." Continuing to strain, Vivienne clenched her jaw and gave one final heave to release the coupling she'd been fighting with. "Just standard adjustments, fixing the settings so your insides stay unscrambled. I did log that the room wasn't ready for occupancy yet," she added pointedly.
Myra opened her mouth to apologise, having taken a moment to recover. Before she could speak, the Betazoid beside her interjected.
"I'm sure she can manage not to get in your way. You seem well-contained in any case." Without waiting for a response, Zia turned towards Myra and murmured, "Like I said, grumpy." Then, she reached out to lay a hand on the bemused Trill's shoulder. "Welcome on board, Myra. I'll leave you to get settled and I'm sure once she's done here, Ensign Conrad will likewise respect your privacy and leave you in peace." Zia rolled her eyes at the grunted response she received and gave a parting pat of encouragement before disappearing out the door. Almost instantly, the temperature in the room dropped several degrees.
"I, uh, I'll just..." Myra cleared her throat. "I'll hang out in the living area, take your time."
She didn't quite know what to make of the engineer's stare, which was also how she felt about Conrad's demeanour in general. As brazen as it was, there was something decidedly Trill about the woman's bluntness, and it occurred to Myra that Conrad's tone wasn't so much belligerent as it was sardonic, which was definitely an attitude she'd encountered plenty of times back home. At any rate, as assertively confronting as the woman's presence was, Myra didn't actually find the scrutiny rude, though it took her a moment to realise Conrad's interest had diverted away from her face to her chest. Momentarily flustered, a glance down made her realise that, out of habit, she had turned the PADD around to hold it against her sternum, display-forward.
And then she realised what the last thing she'd searched for was.
"Just call out if you need any help," she stammered, turning the device around quickly and ruining any chance at discretion. She fled then, escaping Conrad's frown and the impending first impression of being some sort of nosey creep. If she was lucky, it would occur to the other woman that she was with Medical and examining crew records was likely just preliminary case work, but it sounded like a flimsy excuse as much as Myra would have liked to believe it made sense and she sank onto the sofa in the living space with a groan that had less to do with aching back muscles than it did self-recrimination. This deployment was a big deal. Hell, being commissioned at all was a big deal considering how close she'd come to backing out of the entire life-amongst-the-stars dream. Being able to work alongside someone she was actually excited to learn from had seemed like a godsend at the time, but perhaps her optimism had been premature after all.
First impressions weren't going very well.
As she sat with her back to the viewport, Myra slowly turned over the PADD in her lap and stared down at the dossier she'd spent the morning trying to comprehend. If first impressions were her only concern, that might have been one thing, but this was a complication altogether unanticipated. Several taps closed the tab, effectively shifting the problem to a later date when perhaps she'd have the energy to deal with it, and she very carefully set the device down on the coffee table in full view of anyone that wanted to try to sneak a peek at it again.
One problem at a time.
"That's about as close to specifications as I'm going to get it."
About twenty minutes had passed and, glancing up from notepad she was writing in, Myra blinked at the engineer a moment before clarity set in and she rose to her feet.
"Last upgrade made some of the protocols for the sonic showers a little temperamental," Conrad went on to explain, and it didn't escape Myra's notice that the woman's disposition was considerably more conversational than it had been previously. "If you have any trouble with it, just lodge the job and I'll try to swipe it first." A slightly knowing look left Myra with no reference for its intent, though the other woman at least thought to add, "You'll thank me later."
"Uh, thanks."
The hesitation that followed only intensified the sense of awkwardness and, for a fleeting moment, Myra thought the engineer was going to employ her earlier candor to pursue what was rather blatant curiosity given the way Conrad didn't even try to hide the lilt of her eyebrows as she noticed the PADD. Just as Myra was scrambling to come up with a viable explanation, however, the other woman fixed her with a piercing, shrewd look and then actually smiled. Granted, it was more of a smirk and seemed partially reluctant but it was followed by the flick of an idle salute and a final, "Welcome to the nuthouse", before Conrad took her leave and finally, finally, there was nothing but pure silence.
The Trill's shoulders sagged in relief.
A thought occurred.
She's an engineer.
He's...an engineer.
Deflated, Myra sank back onto the couch and sighed. News travelled fast on a starship, they said. Was there any point trying to outrun it? Did it really matter anyway? Even as she contemplated having no energy, no sense of equilibrium left for the reunion she was now forced to consider ahead of her preferred timeline, the Trill knew it was a pointless debate. Since when had she ever been able to relax with a sense of obligation hanging over her head? Just as quickly as it was celebrated, the sense of liberation dissolved and left in its place the twisted knot of nervous anticipation. Delaying things would only complicate what was already a long-overdue explanation.
She lifted her eyes to the ceiling and took a deep breath.
"Computer, locate Ensign O'Connor."
