De-Stressing
Posted on Mon Jan 6th, 2025 @ 7:36pm by Lieutenant Ame Solis M.D. & Rynlan Nemari & Ensign Rimal Iska & Ensign Noub Odee
Mission:
Character Development
Location: USS Athena :: Mess Hall
Timeline: Pandora's Box: MD04
2793 words - 5.6 OF Standard Post Measure
Iska rubbed his face as he finally went off shift. The raiders had been making attempts to get through the defense perimeter all day, and while Zade was taking more of the stress, the rest of the team wasn't free of it. There was an adjusted duty rotation for monitoring the perimeter, ensuring that people got adequate rest to stay alert, but Iska found it draining to effectively be on call. "Noub," he said, after tapping his comm badge. "Drinks in the mess?"
"Sure, I just need to wrap up here," came the response. "I'll meet you there."
A few minutes later, the two were sharing a table, cups in hand, and just chatting. More specifically, Iska was venting about the day while the poor ops officer nodded along. "That does sound stressful," Noub said, taking a sip of their tea. "Have you told your boss that you're stressed out?"
"Prophets, no," Iska responded quickly. "It's just something to adjust to, and it won't last forever. You know how I don't like to bother people with stuff like this."
Noub bobbed their head, as if in thought, then gave a faint smirk. "True. You were insistent that you could walk off that ankle injury, after all." Anticipating a foot to the shin, the ops officer quickly moved their legs out of the way, the smirk widening a little.
Ame sat at the bar in the mess hall, nursing a drink she’d barely touched. The quiet hum of the ship and the low chatter of patrons provided a backdrop to her thoughts, which were anything but calm. Yesterday had been complicated, dredging up feelings she hadn’t anticipated. She’d resolved not to overthink it. At least for now, but the weight of it lingered. Dressed casually in a black dipped-hem tunic and matching trousers, she propped her elbows on the bar, staring blankly at the mirrored reflections of others behind the brightly coloured bottles lining the shelves.
Movement caught her eye, a sharp jerk of legs from Noub as if dodging a playful jab. Their smirk suggested they’d made a teasing comment and were bracing for retaliation. A faint smile tugged at Ame’s lips. She tiredly ran her fingers through her hair and signalled for the bartender on duty. To her mild surprise, it was Chef himself.
“Doctor Solis … I’m not sure you need a refill just yet,” Rynlan remarked, approaching with a towel in hand and a knowing look.
Ame waved a dismissive hand. “I know. Don’t worry, it’s not for me.” She appreciated his concern and was glad he didn’t press for details. Leaning slightly against the bar, she gestured over her shoulder toward Noub and Rimal. “You see those two?”
Rynlan glanced past her and gave a subtle nod. “I do.”
“Think you can send them something to lift their spirits? Something light and cheerful.”
The Chef hummed thoughtfully, gathering a few bottles and a pair of shot glasses. His hands moved with precision as he layered clear synthehol, a bright yellow juice, and a thick red syrup, carefully pouring over the back of a spoon to create a smooth gradient. Each drink was garnished with a glazed red fruit before being presented to Ame for inspection. The gradient colours gleamed under the mess hall lights as Ryn tidied away his tools, the pair of drinks neatly lined up in front of her.
She watched silently as Chef worked, taking a small sip of her own drink. The warmth of it danced across her tongue and spread through her body, offering a quiet comfort. There was an art to crafting drinks, she thought—balancing flavours and making them visually appealing, more than just a single shade. “It looks so pretty. What is it?” she asked, leaning closer for a curious sniff.
“I call it a Pineapple Upside Down,” The Orion replied, his tone tinged with pride as he awaited her verdict.
“Sounds perfect. Can you take them over, please?”
Ryn’s eyes narrowed slightly as if gauging whether there was more to her request than she let on, but he gave a short nod. With practised ease, he placed both glasses on a small tray and made his way toward Noub and Rimal. “The Doctor thought you could use something to lift your spirits,” he said, presenting the tray with a small, professional smile.
Ame spun in her seat to watch, her own drink still in hand. The corner of her mouth twitched upward as she tried to gauge the pair’s expressions, the vibrant colours of the drinks reflecting off the table under the mess hall’s lighting.
The banter between the two paused when Ryn came over, then Noub and Iska glanced toward the bar to see the doctor looking over with anticipation. Nodding their thanks to the barkeep, they accepted the drinks gratefully. Like Ame, they took a curious sniff of the contents of the glasses before clinking them together.
"Whoa, that's good," Noub said, surprised by the flavor. It was a nice tropical tone, the pineapple sneaking in after a couple seconds. Looking over to the bar again, Noub smiled at Ame before using his foot to push out a chair slightly, an invitation to join them.
The Doctor didn’t need a second invitation. Grinning at the Orion as she passed, she raised her nearly empty glass in a silent toast. “Thank you,” she mouthed, a playful glint in her eye.
Ryn inclined his head in a subtle acknowledgement before turning back to the bar, his stride as steady and composed as ever.
Ame pulled the chair out a little further and settled into it, placing her glass down on the table. “Has it been that kind of day?” she asked laced with curiosity. Her fingers idly traced the etched edge of her glass, the motion steadying her wandering thoughts. It had been a tumultuous 24 hours, even for her.
"Just for him," Noub responded. They were glad that the doctor accepted the invitation, as she seemed nice and, well, lonely.
A groan from Iska emphasized the point, and he downed the gifted drink. For just a second, he perked up as the flavors hit him. "Wow, that is good. Anyways, with the squadron protecting this wreckage from raiders, boss has us on a temporary special rotation. It's not that much work, but it is surprisingly exhausting to sit at the tactical station doing continuous scans for three hours. We're also standby in case things escalate, but like... we're a Starfleet squadron. A raider would have to be out of their minds to try something."
Perhaps it was the forlorn loner air about her, or perhaps she truly was grappling with the challenges of being thrust into a new location and role without familiar faces around. “Oh dear. The Squadron,” Ame echoed with a thoughtful lilt from her own experience with the squadron and their crew, her tone carrying a touch of dry humour as she mulled over the situation. “It does sound monotonous. From what I’ve seen, though, it will escalate. A prize like that? Money and power tend to bring out the worst in people.” She took a measured sip from her glass, then leaned back, crossing her legs casually to the side of the table. “Nothing exciting for you, Noub?”
"Oh, no," Noub answered with a shake of their head. "I'm just moral support for Iska here. I get the quiet life in Ops." As a quartermaster, the workload was often light, so they would often take up other work in the department as needed to give them something to do.
Iska gave a bit of a mock-jealous scoff. "Yeah, rub it in for the rest of us," he teased. To Ame, he added, "yeah, the Lieutenant is expecting things to escalate, which is why we have this rotation thing set up."
Ame arched an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “Quiet life in Ops, huh?” she teased, tilting her glass toward Noub. “Sounds like you’ve cracked the code for a stress-free Starfleet career. Maybe we should all transfer and leave you to handle the moral support.”
She swirled the last of her drink before finishing it off with a quick sip. “So, aside from daring holodeck stunts,” she continued, her tone light and inviting, “what do you two do for fun? Any stories you’re dying to share? Maybe a scandalous date or a crew member we should steer clear of?”
"Teyo."
The simultaneous and immediate response from both Iska and Noub resulted in the two glancing at each other, chuckling, then clinking glasses. "If you want a scandalous date, Teyo's your man. There's a small number of people on board he hasn't tried to date," Iska explained. "I'm not sure if he's seeking attention or if he's just too smart for his own good. He is a pain sometimes and likes to cause trouble, though."
The Bajoran looked between the two of them with intrigued interest, “I’m pretty sure I’m all out of scandalous dates. I don’t think I’ve come across Teyo. Anyway, from what I’ve been told, I’m an acquired taste.” She screwed up her nose at the idea and shrugged. “Maybe he just likes variety. I hope I don’t have to screen him…” The words slipped out but it was too late to take back.
“So to clarify, what you do in your spare time is, Teyo?” An amused smirk crossed her lips.
The shade of red that the two shared could render red alert lights obsolete. A flurry of "no!" and "absolutely not!" were the response to the doctor as Iska and Noub fought to try and explain themselves.
"I've hung out with Teyo, but not like that," Noub said, finally getting past the stammering. "And I guess by 'hanging out,' I mean that I was on the opposite side of the bar as him but felt like I was part of the conversation." They glanced to Iska, who was taking a drink from his glass. "Hey, aren't he and Mason a thing?"
The question promptly made Iska choke on his drink, and he put his glass down on the table to cough for a few seconds. "No, hell no!" he rasped, coughing once more to clear his throat. "Mason and George are the ones dating." The confused expression by Noub prompted a baffled look from the Bajoran. "George? One of the other engineers?" There was a pause, and when no response from Noub filled that silence, Iska's brow furrowed in his incredulity. "Noub! How did you confuse the two?! They look nothing alike!!"
The other Bajoran looked most pleased with herself at the stumbling chaos she’d stirred. Leaning back in her seat, Ame crossed her legs at the knee, one arm draped casually over the back of the chair. “What have I unleashed? I have to admit, I do enjoy this delightful state of embarrassed confusion,” she teased, her grin softening into a more contemplative smile. “But seriously, are you two not swept away by some ethereal being of heart-stopping magnitude?” After the whirlwind of Savin, his Chief of Security friend, and the ambush in sickbay just the day before, she was beginning to think the squadron was a lot more complicated than it looked.
Noub was about to remind Iska that three departments shared the same gold-colored uniform, and therefore made up a significant part of the ship's crew compliment, when Ame spoke up. "Look..." they started, holding out a 'hear me out' hand. "Between us --you shut up," they quickly pointed to Iska, who then raised his hands in surrender. "... I wouldn't date him."
"You sure you know which engineer you're talking about?" Iska asked, a teasing grin on his face. He flinched when Noub smacked his shoulder, the held-in chuckle escaping him. "I'm not letting you live that down."
Rolling their eyes, Noub continued, intentionally directing their attention toward Ame. "He's... eccentric. I think that's a good way to describe him, but I don't think he's a bad person. Once you get past the fact that he can sometimes be annoying, I think he can be pretty chill. But I don't have a crush on him or anything. I don't swing that way. Can't speak for the funny one over here though." With that last sentence, Noub tilted their head toward Iska. Resting their elbows on the table, Noub then asked with a teasing smirk, "Why do you ask, Doctor?"
Ame screwed up her nose and continued to drum her fingers on the edge of her empty glass, “I’m just a curious kind of woman. It comes with the job.” She shrugged before returning her attention to Rimal, “And don’t think I didn’t catch that non-answer.” Her head shook again, “I’ve just been thinking about how relationships work and distance.” Another shrug brushed off her reflections,
“When I was your age, I didn’t notice the obvious advances. I’d rather have had a medical breakthrough. It took me a minute to realise that Rimal wasn’t trying to corner me in a holographic Jefferies tube.” Her lips pinched in embarrassed shame before releasing her glass to run her fingers through her hair. She did glance at him in the chance she’d misunderstood the situation even more than she’d initially thought. “I guess I’m still finding my feet and trying to fit in.”
"Well, finding your feet with Teyo is probably not the best course of action," Noub said with a cheesy grin.
Iska's blush remained when Ame called him out for not answering her question about being swept away. The truth was that he agreed with Noub. Teyo
"Yeah," he eventually agreed with Noub. Glancing to Ame, he added, "honestly, I think relationships on starships are... difficult. I get it, people are far from home and seek comfort, but I think there's too much risk. For some, that risk is worth it, I guess."
“I’m pretty sure Teyo is safe. Fraternisation and all that fun stuff,” Ame propped her cheek on her hand. Her eyes drifted to the bar, where the older Orion was diligently chatting with patrons and wiping down the counter. “That ship sailed a long time ago. I’m well past getting caught in places I shouldn’t be, doing things that are… questionable, to say the least.”
Rimal’s reaction told a deeper story, one he wasn’t ready to share. His shy, reserved nature spoke volumes. He didn’t deserve to be forced into a career he wasn’t fully at peace with. Ame sighed softly. “It’s easier when you’re assigned together, but you’ve got to consider influence and conduct. And when you’re eventually separated… can they be honest about what they need? About what you mean to them?” She realised she’d brought the mood down; a far cry from the lively conversation she’d intended.
Catching herself, she let out a soft chuckle and shook her head. “Listen to me, waxing philosophical like some love-struck counsellor. I blame the lack of caffeine or maybe the ambience.” A faint but genuine grin returned as she gestured toward the bar. “Speaking of which, I think we could all use a refill. Something with a little less introspection and a lot more celebration.”
Her gaze flicked back to Rimal and Noub, her tone playful as she added, “And don’t think you’re off the hook, Iska. I’ll crack that story one day. Until then, I’ll just assume your taste is impeccable—and highly classified.” Her smirk returned as she nudged her empty glass forward. “So, what’s it going to be? Another round of ‘deep life musings,’ or shall we toast to surviving another day in this flying tin can?”
Iska knew she was teasing and gave her a smile, finally starting to relax after the stressful day. "When this is over, maybe I can declassify it," he chuckled.
