Capt. Shayne: The Hangover

[Kali Nicholotti]

Too many quotes to pick out and put in the quote thread, so the whole sim comes here instead...

 

((Deck 6, Sickbay, USS Khitomer)) 

El’Heem: So uhhh…ready to get back to… ::looking at the captain.:: the couch maintenance?

 Shayne would be lying if he said he’d been able to follow the conversation particularly well. He’d gleaned- mostly from expressions on people’s faces- that there was a general consensus of not talking about what was really going on, which Shayne could, in an uncharacteristic fashion, wholeheartedly endorse. The fact that someone was still trying to include him, however, was cause for whatever passed for alarm in his stupid state. 

Shayne: Yes. Couch. Good. 

Beck: Careful with those couches, they aren't all standard. Some of them recline unexpectedly.

Shayne’s stomach did a sudden and unwelcome twist that told him that couches weren’t the only things that might recline unexpectedly. 

Ohnari: ::tilting her head:: Ensign El'Heem? I trust you will return any unused medical equipment to its proper place when all is...maintained?  

In the back of his mind, Shayne was pleased that Ohnari was taking her duties so seriously. 

El’Heem: Yes of course Doctor! I’ll make sure the medkit is returned to the supply closet when it is ultimately not used! It’s just a precaution after all.

Beck: I definitely always bring along equipment I might not need because there should be emergency kits available in every quarters. Might as well have two.

For a moment- a brief, instantaneous moment- Shayne’s cogent mind returned, rousted from its stupor to take note of a very good idea. 

Rodan: We'll only be a jiffy…

Shayne: What he said. 

He hadn’t yet processed what Rodan had said, but he trusted him enough to go along with it. 

Ohnari: Try and hydrate between rounds of furniture repair, aye Space daddy? Don't go breaking my new Ensign now. 

It took several seconds for Shayne’s slowed brain to process what she had said. When he looked down at her, and caught her grinning, sly features, his own lids descended into a scowl. 

Shayne: That’s never gonna go away, is it. 

Beck: You boys stay out of trouble. Don't do anything I wouldn't do.

Shayne began to exit, and tossed a dismissive “yeah, yeah…” hand at Buck. Or Back. Or whatever the ruddy bloody hell his name was. 

Shayne: oO Quentin. Oo

That thought stung. 

El'Heem: Oh of course not! ::pausing to think about what he may have just insinuated. :: I mean we’re just doing some repairs. What trouble could we even get into?

Shayne glanced at El’Heem warily. He liked the young fidgety ensign; but that was perhaps the most naive question anyone had ever asked in four centuries of Starfleet. 

Shayne: Something something… than a question is an answer… 

Rodan/Ohnari: Response 

Shayne had never been so ready for a hypospray in all his life. 

Beck: Loathe as I am to depart, it seems like you may need time to prep for furniture maintenance related injuries. I'll take a rain check on the conversation - maybe over coffee and breakfast sometime soon?

El'Heem: Leaving so soon?! ::Ras overexaggerated his feigned surprise.:: Oh look at the time, we should probably get to back to your quarters Captain!

Shayne glanced at the ensign, who was breathing harder. The captain knew anxiety when he observed it, and though he was soused beyond most reckoning, he was not beyond empathizing.  

Shayne: I think we can take it from here. 

Ohnari: Response

El’Heem was starting to crack; they had to leave, all for different reasons, but with a similar urgency. 

El'Heem: OH NO! Not at all doctor! Ｉ’ＭＪＵＳＴＲＥＡＬＬＹＥＸＣＩＴＥＤＴＯＷＯＲＫＯＮＴＨＥＣＯＵＣＨＩＡＬＭＯＳＴＢＥＣＡＭＥＡＮＥＮＧＩＮＥＥＲＹＯＵＫＮＯＷ．　

Shayne: Fellas. Sickbay’s getting a little crowded. 

He wanted to move, but he momentarily forgot what to do to activate his legs. 

Ohnari: Response

Suddenly he felt a yanking on his sleeve, and instinct offered him opportunity to change his footing before he crashed into the floor like a mannequin in a department store.  

Rodan: Nice leg. ::To Ohnari.:: Nice job!

El'Heem: Captain! Maz!

The captain staggered along, eager for what had been a pleasant buzzing to be long over. 

Shayne: Space Daddy, away! 

Ohnari: Response

((Transporter Room, Deck 4, USS Khitomer))

The puff of a hypospray was like a blessing and a pronouncement of guilt. Shayne could feel himself almost being dematerialized, and built from the ground up to smell and taste the fresh air again. His head roiled for a moment, and he shut his eyes forcefully to wait for the spinning to stop, thanking his lucky stars when it did. 

Rodan: Ah! That was fun.

El'Heem: I could hear the blood rushing through my ears! What a rush!

His scowl of resigned grump returned. 

Shayne: Glad you two had such a blast. And I thought the damn moonshine still was bad… 

Rodan: I'll find an appropriate place on the Khitomer to set up another Living History Annex. We'll definitely have more things to add to it on this ship.

When Rodan said things like that, it was difficult to tell what was an aspiration, and what was a threat. 

Shayne: The next person who stashes booze on this ship gets a court martial.

 He pawed at his head; just because the accelerant had removed the worst of the symptoms did not mean that the effects in their place were gone. 

El’Heem: You mean that inebriant was from the Arrow? The essence of memory is encapsulated within the spirit.

Right now, the spirit it had encapsulated was kicking Shayne hard in the meninges. Alvarez and her stupid booze and stupid smile and stupid joyful self…  

Shayne: I need a pot of black coffee.

Rodan: ::Brightening.:: So, what now? ::Beat.:: Space Daddy?

The pair of them finally fell apart, nearly hitting the floor in their mirth. Shayne’s scowl would have lowered his brow past his nose if he’d been physically able to permit it. Even when he’d been drunk off his ass he’d known that it was going to linger, perhaps permanently, in the echo chamber of the Alpha Isles, and aboard the Khitomer specifically. 

Shayne: I trust that will be staying between us, on pain of court martial. And possible death. 

 Rodan: ::Between chuckles.:: I'm so sorry! I'm 178 years old and that is literally the funniest thing I've ever heard! Oh boy, I love this crew!

The captain turned away- the last thing he wanted to show the world right now was a smile that refused to heed his will. 

 Shayne: We’re a special bunch, I’ll give you that.

And he thought Starbase 80 had a reputation to keep.   

El’Heem: Well Captain? Where to?

What Shayne really wanted to do was head to his quarters, beat the bottle against the bulkhead, and find the aforementioned pot of black coffee. But it felt wrong to simply abandon the two others here to explore on their own, especially after everything El’Heem had done on their behalf. Besides, an impressionable newcomer being led solely by Maz Rodan? Shayne shuddered at the thought of what the Kressari might become. Cheerful? Spontaneous? Sociable?

Shayne: The station. Preferably somewhere quieter and close to hangover cures. 

Rodan: Response.

In a few moments, the Kressari had found something suitable, and seemed excited to usher them onto the platform. Shayne was in no condition to protest. 

El’Heem: Can I say it?

Shayne: Say what? 

The captain was baffled until he looked at Rodan, who, as per normal, cleared everything up. 

Rodan: Response.

Ah. They stood on the platform, facing forward, and waited to be turned into information. 

El’Heem: ::In the deepest voice he could muster.:: Energize.

((Somewhere on Deep Space 33)) 

Shayne: Well, this is new. 

They’d materialized into a darker, niched section of the station- that much was evident. Talking, laughing, clinking of glasses could all be heard easily through the bulkhead, but they were subtly muffled, as if there was something purposefully obscuring the sound. Light was dim in what appeared to be a storage closet, large enough to fit some fairly large equipment. 

Rodan/El’Heem: Response

Shayne didn’t pretend to be an expert on the structure of the station- he was still coming to grips with the internal layout of the Khitomer. God, there was a lot to learn. 

Shayne: I know I asked for somewhere quiet, Mr. El’Heem, but this going above and beyond really must stop. 

El’Heem/Rodan: Response 

Suddenly, a hissing, squawking sound heralded the opening of a pair of double doors. It was not a sound typically made by Starfleet double-locks, and something gave the captain a very uneasy feeling. Quickly, he crouched behind a row of crates, and encouraged his companions to do the same. 

Voice 1: I didn’t have a choice! You think I liked putting it in there!?

It was gruff and yet whiny, as if it had never learned that sometimes, life just didn’t go the way you wanted it to. 

Voice 2: They’re going to be here in two hours; we don’t even have access to the damned ship!

Shayne’s heart plummeted. Was something bigger going on here? And- good lord- were they trying to get aboard the Khitomer? The bastards! It wasn’t even paid off yet! 

El’Heem/Rodan: Response 

Tag/TBC…

Captain Randal Shayne
Commanding Officer
USS Khitomer
NCC 62400
G239202RS0