Change & Other Inevitables
Posted on Mon Dec 23rd, 2019 @ 9:31pm by Major Cornelius Tremble
Edited on on Sun Dec 29th, 2019 @ 2:32am
2,919 words; about a 15 minute read
Mission:
Episode 8 - The Silence
Location: After 11 - Deck 11 - USS Pioneer
Timeline: MD005 2130 hrs
Ingrid had once been a social butterfly, always surrounding herself with people who loved to be around her just as much. Since she'd gotten back from that Cardassian Colony, she hand't been the same person. She spent almost all of her free time alone and, to be honest, it was starting to affect her. She tried to go to sleep early, but all that got her was an hour staring into the darkness of her room, so she decided she would go and try to meet someone. She climbed out of bed, fixed her hair, and put on an outfit; a black turtleneck, a black, white, and grey plaid skirt, and some tall black leather boots. Then, after checking herself out in the mirror, she exited her quarters and clicked her way down to After 11, an expression of false optimism on her face.
She walked through the doors and passed a room half filled with Pioneer Crew, many of which nodded to her or held long stares they think she didn't notice. She wasn't sure if they were staring because they liked her look or because they knew some of her story. Either way, on this night, she wished they would stop.
She pulled herself onto a bar stool and looked down at the menu, pretending to read, but really just staring blankly.
Neil made it a point of at least appearing to be social. Ever since Malbrooke had hung that 2nd Officer moniker on him, he'd seen it as something he was required to do and so he made his way into the ships lounge with a certain amount of trepidation.
Normally, he'd have worn a uniform but it had been a long sweaty day training in the Mark IV's and he'd had other meetings with the JAGMAN investigation. With Tallida busy elsewhere, he'd given up and shrugged into boots, faded jeans and an OD high necked, infantry sweater.
Inside the doors, he glanced around and noted the Pioneer's helms person sitting at the bar and made his way over. He slid onto the stool next to her and signaled the bar tender. Looking toward Ingrid he asked, "Given any thought to that transfer, Lieutenant? The Marines are always looking for beings that don't break our toys."
She looked over, taken aback by being approached so suddenly. When she noticed him, she raised her eyebrows, turning toward him slightly.
"I'm still holding out for you to come to our side." She said, smiling in uncharacteristic sweetness. "We like action heroes too."
Folding her hands in front of her, her red-painted nails were accentuated. "And you can all me Ingrid."
Neil ordered a red beer from the bartender and then turned his attention back to Ingrid. "Alright Ingrid, you might as well call me Neil. It beats Cornelius or any of the other derogatory terms that I've been referred to over the years. As for joining the fleet," he took nodded back to the server and picked up the glass that had been set before him. "I'll pass for now, but thanks."
He smiled at her as he took a pull from the glass and let his eyes trace over her, "Looks like you're decidedly off duty. Waiting for someone?"
"Nope, just in my off duty uniform." she said confidently, making a cute expression before speaking again. "I'm just here for a drink. The thing about it is I haven't ordered it yet. I can't decide what I want."
She looked down at the drink list and read some of the options. After a few seconds, she looked over at Neil and quirked a brow. "What would you get if you were me?"
Neil quirked a grin at her question, "Depends on what you were looking for in that glass. For instance, I'm looking for filler and want more than just the hops flavor from beer, so I went with Red. From your dress, the fact that you're here solo tells me you're looking for distraction...."
He had a word with the server, who moments later slid a glass in front of Ingrid. It was pinkish, with salt beading the rim and a cucumber and watermelon slice on a skewer set within. "It's called a Firecracker," he told the Pioneer's FCO. "My sister drinks them when she wants something to sip at that's a bit sweet, but not cloyingly so."
Ingrid looked at the pink drink, considering with interest. It looked refreshing, so she reached out and grabbed the glass, taking it to her nose. She drew in air slowly and smelled the blend of watermelon, lime, cucumber and the salt on the rim. With a smile, she placed the glass on her waiting lips and tipped it back slightly for a sip. She closed her eyes as the liquid rolled into her mouth and, as she swallowed, she looked at Neil.
She gave him a smile to indicate she liked it, but didn't offer thanks or communicate her feelings. She was often like that; a woman who acknowledged her feelings with actions and not with words.
"What about what I'm wearing makes you think I'm looking for a distraction?" She asked, her hand still around the sweating glass.
Neil took another pull at his drink, half turning to lean against the bar as he glanced at Ingrid. "If you were looking for a wind down after shift you'd have shown up in uniform like a majority of the crew. You changed and took some time and care with your appearance." Neil switched his glance around the room briefly, then turned back to her.
"You arrived, chose to sit at the bar but weren't waiting for anyone. If you were looking for a quiet place to unwind just for yourself, you'd have picked a seat away from the traffic at the bar."
She too took another sip from her drink and several seconds to savor it. Looking back at him, she offered a more subtle smile. He was observant; smart. A marine commander through and through.
"Well what am I waiting for then, Neil?" she asked, playfully.
He considered that for a few beats, then smiled at her. "As I said; Distraction. Distraction comes in all forms. Maybe a better question would be why you're looking for distraction? Maybe just trying to take your mind off things? Maybe you've got an itch to scratch?" His eyes flickered over her again, "So tell me what you're waiting for?"
"I was laying in bed and staring at my ceiling, thinking about all the nights I lie in bed staring at my ceiling. I used to be a party animal; I used to have fun!" She said, animatedly. "Like, stay out all night, loud music, still drunk in the morning fun."
She moved her leg position and lifted the glass to her waiting lips again. As the liquid poured into her mouth, a watermelon slice touched her nose. She placed the glass down again,leaving her hand around it.
"I'm still fun." She said to him, assured that what she was saying was true. "So, I guess I want to have fun."
Neil's lips quirked, "So what's stopping you? New kid on the block syndrome?" His tone was light and he looked about, then lowered "Or did spending time with the Cardi's have you questioning yourself? Looking for the you you where before?"
Ingrid shifted uncomfortably, her eyes fluttering away from the man in stark contrast to her previous social interest. The she she was before the Cardassian incident was a lie just like this one. She knew that it was no different but she felt that it was.
"Nothing's stopping me." She said, answering his first question but ignoring the rest. "I'm here right now, aren't I?"
"You sure are," Neil snorted, "But I know that look sister. Your eyes have that slightly haunted look of someone looking back. Trying to see trees with the forest crowding so close."
After a few beats, he said. "I know because I've been there. A few times. It probably doesn't help hearing that. It didn't with me, but we all have to walk the road. There is light at the end of the tunnel...the voices get pushed back, all that talk the counselor's go on about."
He shrugged, taking a drink and a far away look came to his own eyes, "After the Vorta worked me over, I even avoided music. My brain had me convinced that I didn't deserve to play the piano after I let myself get captured. I was a drahk of a marine. But, I eventually started playing again and it helped. That's the best advice I can give you when the forest crowds. Do the normal things."
Neil chuckled then, "Like getting drunk. Chasing like minded beings for companionship. Reminding yourself to live. It's all part of it, though it kinda feels like getting drug through a stretch of razor wire."
Ingrid traces the counter with her glass while he spoke, her eyes cast down and away, but she was listening to every word. Most people had no idea what it truly meant to suffer; she did. It seems he might understand as well. She looked up at him and a rare compassionate gaze twinkled in her eyes. What were her normal things anymore?
"You play?" She asked, of all the things she could have said. Her expression was full of interest.
Neil shrugged at the question, but answered. "Some. Not well, but I play when I can. Back when I was a kid, mom made me take lessons. Now,...things slide I guess." Sensing he'd caught her interest, he asked "Do you enjoy music? Mom always said once you have music, you take it with you no matter what."
"I play too." She said with a smile. "Have since I was a little girl. My parents made me learn all kinds of musical instruments."
She took another sip if her drink. Music had felt like something from her old life for so long that she'd avoided it. She hadn't been able to bring herself to touch the piano in years. Was that a normal thing anymore.
"I picked up getting drunk and finding companionship later." She concluded with a light hearted laugh.
Neil nodded. "Been there too. Then a wise old Gunny told me life's too short to drink bad booze, or food for that matter." Neil took a drink of his beer before continuing, "Going along with that when I drink good booze I don't want to have a hangover the next day, usually so...I turned to the gym. The gunny pointed out that if I was beating myself up on the inside, I might as well let someone else have the fun of kicking the stuffings out of me."
He shrugged lightly, settling into the chair while leaning against the bar facing the helmswoman. "So now it's really good bourbon, less time in the gym...or at least letting people try and take my head off. And I'm playing piano again and even back to carving ducks."
Neil didn't say anything for a few seconds and a long pull from the red liquid in his glass. "I guess it boils down to change. People generally hate change and it's easy to let yourself do that. However, since I was better Gunny than an officer, I can tell you that a change would do you some good Ingrid."
She listened to what he said as thoughts shot off in her head bundle by bundle. At the thought of this marine huddled in his quarters carving ducks, she gave a chuckle. Still, her mind turned to the substance of his statement. It was true that change was inevitable and that usually didn't care her. In fact she liked change.
"I'm wondering what you think my special change should be, Neil." She said, her blue eyes settling on him with a certain fascination. "Does it include getting to beat you up too?"
She smiled charmingly and fingered her glass, feeling its sweat run down her fingertips and onto the bar.
He grinned at that and nodded, "I'm always game to take a beating," he half laughed. "I've a holo-deck program for a gym and the manager seems to enjoy it when good looking females frequent it. And, since part of my day is training...well let's just say I prefer getting my backside kicked around the mat to resting it in a chair doing paperwork."
After taking another drink, he looked her over, "As to your special change, Ingrid, I'd say the depends on you. I am no counselor," his brow furrowed slightly at that and then he pushed the look from his face, "But, what do you want to change most? You don't have to tell me. Just be honest with yourself and know that you have people around you aboard the Pioneer that will help."
Ingrid looked down in thought. She was uncomfortable exploring her feelings around others. That had become an especially private affair. He'd said that he wasn't a counselor and that was good because she wouldn't talk to him if he was.
"I don't know," she began. "I think I might miss my family."
That statement held a wealth of unspoken truths. Even the fact that she had uttered it was amazing and she didn't know she felt that way until she said it. How could she miss those homicidal monsters?
"I don't know what to do about that. For right now though, I want a long vacation and a good lay. Not necessarily in that order." She said, quickly and instinctively moving away from the subject of her family to more immediate concerns. That was always how she dealt with her problems.
Neil didn't say anything for a moment, his mouth quirking into a grin as he took another drink. "Sounds fairly normal for after action response. Until it becomes just another day; and just another way to not have to deal with the drahk lurking around us. Escape isn't a bad thing; as long as you confront the lurkers in a timely manner."
"That being said, do what you need to but know why you're doing them," he left the emphasis of his words hang. Who she did was her business.
"Sure." She said with a nod as she finished her drink. She sat there then for a few seconds, her mind racing as her eyes scanned the room. When her eyes fell on Neil again, she spoke. "It's nice of you to talk to me and buy me a drink, but it makes me wonder; is this you being a good little second officer and making sure the crew is lead by the sane and well-balanced, or are you interested in stepping up and helping me with one of my concerns?"
Her lips pouted slightly and she looked at him with her large fluttering blue eyes. She offered a small smile, but mostly looked at him expectantly. It hadn't been tremendously forward, at least as far as she was concerned. But the question was still a heavy one.
A wry smile played over Neil's face at her words and he met her look. "Being appointed second officer means I do have an increased responsibility to the ship and crew, that's true. What that means, besides the workload, is that if you Fleet types need something and I can reasonably help in some way, I no longer play the scowling, aloof Marine CO."
"So, what's on your mind, Ingrid? Neil asked, taking another drink.
"Well, like I said, I need a vacation and a good lay." She began, playing with her red-highlighted white hair flirtatiously. "And I don't think you can help me with the first one.."
Neil chuckled and met her look, "Actually I can help you with the first. I've looked at your jacket and you're due leave, so as soon as we clear our current mission profile, you can take your vacation. As to the second, a couple of months ago I'd have explored your condition with you. However, being that Lt. Ovaa and I have been keeping company, I'm not sure how I can help you."
"Shame." She said offering a wink. "For you, of course."
The marine smiled at that and said, "Some how I believe you there," then his eyes glinted mischievously, "Although you do strike me as the type that enjoys one of those padded rooms on Torvaris IV with the gravity gradient turned to 0 or .1..."
"I guess you'll never know, Soldier." She said, giving a wink and biting he lip a bit. "Thanks for the pep talk and the drink, but I've got some business see through and you sitting on that stool makes me look taken."
Neil finished his glass, stood and gave her a wink of his own. "Now now, it's Marine. Captain, or Neil. No use calling names. And yes, if you wish to be taken, I shouldn't muddy the waters. He flipped the glass upside down on the bar, indicating heel-taps and said. "See you on the flip side, Ingrid. My door's mostly always open."
A Joint Post By
Captain Cornelius Tremble
Marine Commanding Officer/Second Officer, USS Pioneer
Lieutenant Ingrid Hollister
Chief Flight Control Officer, USS Pioneer
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