YE/D02 - Crew Mess

[Paul]

==

[Pax Cassidy]

<<<< Sickbay <<<<

The Crew Mess was quiet, though that wouldn’t last long. During times of stress, most humanoids enter a fight-or-flight state, suppressing their appetite. With the mission over, appetites would come roaring back, stronger than ever. Try as they might to temper them, even Starfleet officers couldn’t ignore their biological drives.

It wasn’t a proper meal time, but Cassidy was used to eating at strange hours throughout the day. He couldn’t remember a time in his childhood when his entire family had eaten together. As a doctor, he tended to take his breaks when he could get them. Even still, he preferred eating in the Mess Hall, rather than simply using the replicator in Sickbay. Medicine could be a surprisingly isolating profession. He wanted to spend time with the crew and get to know them outside of the exam room.

He sat at the table along the exterior edge of the dining area, facing the door. Behind him, the chaotic racetrack that was the Wairara system danced like a snow globe mid-shake. He’d replicated a plate of chilaquiles, piled as high as his head with fried eggs, shredded chicken, and hot salsa. Ever since he’d learned about the dish during his time at the academy, it had quickly become a fixture of any morning following a long night — and this mission had been one hell of a long night. The burns on his wrists and neck were red and irritated, and his metal spine felt exactly as heavy as it was.

Just as he prepared to dig in, the door to the mess slid open and Cassidy immediately forgot the pain of his injuries. For the second time that day, he was looking into the dark blue eyes of Ensign Elliot. An odd thought fluttered in his chest: was Elliot looking for him? He tamped the thought down, suddenly embarrassed, though he wasn’t sure why.

“Elliot! Good to see you again,” he said, his voice sounding steadier than he felt. He flashed a warm smile, that he hoped looked natural, and waved his cybernetic arm toward the open seat. “I’m happy to share if you want to pull up a seat.”

== Tag Elliot/anyone hungry ==

[Ian Elliot]

The young officer wasn’t sure what he expected when he walked into the Mess Hall. The med tech had told him to go here. They said he should go and eat. They had also greeted him by way of telling him ‘he’ wasn’t here. Ian wasn’t sure how the tech knew who Ian was looking for as his ulterior motive. So, still holding his toolkit, Ian walked into the Mess.

Almost immediately (or had he been blinded by nerves?), the person in question was waving, calling him over to share a table. His feet moved automatically, and though Ian could feel the movement of his legs, he couldn’t control them. Why was he walking over there? Did he really call him over? At the moment, Ian couldn’t even remember the man’s name, and was close to not being able to speak his own. “Ha – hi.” He stammered out, feeling the chair hit his butt.

His mouth hurt. Why did his mouth hurt? Oh. He was smiling. He was smiling really widely. He couldn’t seem to stop.

“How are you making out?” Ian wasn’t one-hundred percent sure what he was saying was even an understandable language. “After everything? That happened, I mean.”


==Tags!==

[Pax Cassidy]

Elliot’s beaming smile was dangerous. In this setting, there were precious few distractions to hide its effect on Cassidy. He felt himself being drawn in, as if gravity had suddenly shifted toward the other side of the table. How easy it would be to close the distance between them! His fingers flexed instinctively — an imagined touch. He’d made a mistake in overestimating his own restraint. Cassidy was no stranger to infatuation, but this was something else altogether. To anyone watching, he would have seemed fully enthralled by the conversation.

“How are you making out?” Ian asked tentatively, perhaps thrown by the intensity of Cassidy’s attention. “After everything? That happened, I mean.”

That was enough to knock Cassidy back to reality. His smile softened, a hint of regret creasing his brow. He’d lost patients before, but never his own crew. The seats around them seemed to grow emptier. Was it going to be like this every time? He shook his head and composed himself, not wanting to burden the young engineer.

“It was a tough one, but I’m proud of my crew. They stepped up today, even though none of us knew what we were in for,” he replied. It was a classic deflection, one that he’d employed many times in the wake of a tragedy — enough that he found himself doing it instinctively. It had the advantage of being completely true, which masked the non-answer at its core.

He glanced down at the toolkit that Elliot had brought along with him, having not noticed it before. Of course! The engineer had been looking for him, just not for the reason he’d hoped.

“Did Nurse Manx send you to take a look at my gear?” He asked guiltily. He held his cybernetic arm toward himself, inspecting it. The metal frame had survived the heat of the shuttle fire intact, though a few of the wires under the surface of his wrist had fused. The sensation was like a persistent tingling on the tips of his fingers. “You can take a look if you want. It’s a little tricky for me to mess with it myself.”

Cassidy stretched the heavy cyberware across the length of the table in a surprisingly casual gesture. Ordinarily, he would have felt some apprehension about letting someone tinker with his machinery, but somehow this felt natural.

== Tag Elliot ==