SD 241301.02 JL | "Green and Gray" | ACONN & AOPS | LTs Pettygrove & Capellupo

Posted on Wed Jan 2nd, 2013 @ 9:49pm by Petty Officer 2nd Class John Capellupo

1,268 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Romulan Ale.. I mean Aide
Location: Officer's Lounge

=/\= Officer's Mess =/\=

The officer's lounge was almost always abuzz and lively with the sounds of the crew relaxing and unwinding. Glass clinking together and a few loud laughs lit up once and a while. It was normally a positive atmosphere, where someone could come and relax alone while still feeling like a part of the enjoyment.

Shayna slowly scrolled through her PADD with the data on the shuttle mission in one hand, while she sipped her beverage from her glass in the other. There was nothing outright worrisome to catch her attention on this mission, but she was unfamiliar with the members of the away mission, and was not accustomed to working alongside a fighter support team. The next couple days would prove interesting, for sure.

"What sorta beer you got in there?" John asked loudly as he plopped down on the seat next to Shayna. He peered over the bar in search of service before turning to the unknown Lieutenant sitting next to him. "You see a 'keep round here? " He stretched his arms, almost touching the woman.

The rigid sphere of personal space she tried to maintain at all times was suddenly and penetratingly invaded by the man before her. She silently suppressed the urge to simply get up and continue her work elsewhere. No, she needed to at least do her best to try and meet people. Perhaps this was just an opportunity in disguise.

She feigned a smile and glanced at her drink, "Porter. I like it a little dark. You?"

John gave a strange smile and looked at his empty hands, "Nothin' yet." He craned his next around the barrier between them and the other section of the bar in search of a bartender. "What I wouldn't give for a little bit of service." John fell back into his barstool and suddenly realized his ill-manners.

"I'm John," he extended his hand and gave another goofy smile. After a day cramped in a cargo bay sorting through new scanning equipment it was nice to get out and talk to people. He'd never been one for solitary jobs; cataloging inventory might as well have been a death sentence.

"Shayna." She set her beverage off to the side as she prepared to accept his handshake in-stride. "Nice to meet you. You working late on the away mission details?" She asked, trying her best to create a conversation. She never had been one to enjoy socializing on her own. A group of friends and other people she felt comfortable around were usually a necessary buffer between her inhibitions and having a good time. In a setting with just her own social graces, she found a steely work ethic provided an acceptable aliby.

She could already feel her palms sweating.

"I wish." John sighed. Ever since the new Chief Operations officer's first mission briefing Capellupo seemed, by design, out of the loop. Perhaps John's antics regarding the other man's wife had something to do with it. Who knew?

"I don't think the Chief wants me anywhere near mission parameters," John leaned over the bar once more in vain before surrendering in his search for a draft brew. "You?"

"I'm forced to check in with the flight team once an hour while I'm off duty." She sighed a little, pushing her PADD further away, "I've got another 15 minutes. I'm just glad we have the opportunity to help someone for a change. We always seem to be fighting off some massive armada. It's nice to know the Federation isn't jaded afterall, even if it is for Romulans." Shayna took another drink.

Her words washed over John without much thought. Of course they were helping the Romulans. Why wouldn't they? "That jaded, huh?" He said, offering a pressed smile. "I would have-," the sudden reemergence of the barkeep interrupted his next thought. "Two Chicago Pales, please!" The eyes of the man behind the bar widened as John spurted out his long-coming request before retreating back to the dispensary.

"I think I scared him off." John sighed and slid back down into his seat. "But anywho... Romulans, yes. Quite the characters, but hardly a reason to ignore their plight."

"I suppose we win some and lose some. Romulans wouldn't have stopped to help a Federation colony. I guarantee you that." A sardonic laugh filled the end of her sentence. She took another drink.

The pretty blonde woman's demeanor certainly did not match her stature. John raised a brow, one part confused, another part slightly disappointed in his fellow Lieutenant. "Oh, you're most likely correct. Yet, somehow, I don't think that changes our mission one bit." Simple quid quo pro relationships held very little weight in his mind. The navigation officer's distrust of others, even if they were Romulans, was slightly unsettling.

Thankfully, his beer provided more jubilee than Shayna's pessimism could squeeze out of him.

"Never said it did. Our mission is to help these colonists as far as they'll let us. I'll do whatever I can for anyone who's willing to ask for my help.

"If I've learned one this though, it's that Romulans can't be trusted any farther than I could throw this whole ship." She spoke matter-of-factly, rather than let her attitude get in the way of what she wanted to say. She hadn't been drinking all that much, and now she had a man who would have been better off to hit on her, rather than to tip-toe with her into some philosophical debate about political correctness.

"Since you're clearly above such generalizations, why don't you go back to working on the mission instead of bothering Jameson...," her eyes slated, "that's the 'barkeep's' name, by the way. So have a good rest of your evening, and enjoy your beers."

She stopped for a moment to let it sink in, "Since I already told you I prefer dark beer. Chicago Pale isn't exactly what I meant."

Shayna pounded the rest of her drink and carefully set the glass down on the table, replacing it with her PADD in her hand. Socializing seemed to always mean paying some kind of toll when it came to meeting new people. Either she weeded through an entirely new crew and staff to find the people she could stand, or she had to constantly brush off the overly peppy idealists that filled the Starfleet ranks. This was why she kept to herself ninety nine percent of all waking hours. With her work and her cynicism, she headed off for the exit.

Watching the blonde woman come to some sort of finality, while somewhat amusing, ultimately did not alter his perception of the mission, nor did it change his early stated opinion. "Fairly easy if you ask me," he said fleetingly.

"Easy?" She stopped.

"Your response," he replied quickly. "Kind of a cop out if you ask me." He sipped his wheaty beer.

She shook her head, deeply tired of the people who 'played it cool' to keep themselves on their path of self-righteousness. "I was minding my own business, Lieutenant. Nobody asked you anything."

He shrugged, "I suppose," he concentrated his gaze on the young woman intently, forgoing his gleeful attitude from earlier, if only for a moment. "But it would seem 'minding you own business' was a rather easy as well." He put down his now finished beer and collected a padd from the counter. He turned and prepared to exit the opposite door, but before he could, he managed one final piece of advice.

"Lieutenant, lay off the bitter. It doesn't serve you well."

He wasn't talking about her beer.


=/\= End Log =/\=

 

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