Pizza Wednesdays (Part 2 of 2)

Posted on 19 May 2012 @ 12:27pm by Lieutenant Lilou Zaren & Chief Warrant Officer 3 Lamar Darius

4,695 words; about a 23 minute read

Mission: Episode 01 - Project Sienna
Location: USS Galileo - Deck 2, Mess Hall
Timeline: MD06 - 1715 hrs

[ON - Continued...]

Tilting his head curiously, he furrowed his brow. "How do you know so much about Starfleet weaponry? I thought you were an engineer," he asked with a chuckle.

"My mother's in Security," Lilou explained. "Her idea of getting me to do something extracurricular was target practice and gymnastics. I guess she hoped I'd follow in her footsteps. I didn't, obviously, but... there's something like home about assault weapons." She laughed quietly, "Besides, it gives me something to do in my ample free time. Figuring out how to make me-sized heavy weaponry. The engineering comes in handy when you're trying to fabricate a phase cannon from scraps." She pulled her legs up so she was sitting cross-legged in her chair across from him. "And before you ask, I haven't accidentally blown anything up since I was in first year Academy. I take precautions now." She sipped from her water, watching him over the rim. "Compression rifles... not what I would have expected."

The more he listened to Lilou talk about herself, the more he was becoming infatuated with her. He would have never guessed that she was as fond of weapons as he was. Smiling, he attempted to explain himself. It was rare that Marines preferred Fleet weaponry, but he had had enough experience with both over the years to feel comfortable discussing it. "Yea, I know...you thought I would probably go on and on about the Mk17, but truth is, it's heavier, bulkier, and less accurate. Since it's only equipped for pulse-firing, there's significant recoil to battle on the higher settings. With the Type-III model, it's a lighter and more versatile platform, in my opinion." he explained, then finished off his first slice and grabbed another one from the tray, keeping his eyes curiously on Lilou the whole time. "Glad to hear you stopped blowing things up." he added with a light laugh in between bites.

"Only on purpose, now," she assured him, somewhat absently. Out of all the marines she'd known on the Algonquin, she'd never known one to choose accuracy over fire power. They considered themselves the accuracy measurement, and they didn't care about the tools ease of use so long as they could grip it into submission. It was part of why they were all so huge, so they could wrangle their cluster-fire pulses. "Why did you leave the marines?" she asked. She wasn't sure why she asked- no. She knew why she wanted to know. She just didn't know why she'd let the question actually be voiced.

Somewhere in the back of head, he knew she was going to eventually ask him that question. It was complicated, of course, the reasons for his transfer. In fact, complicated was putting it lightly. Over his years of service in the Corps, Lamar had seen and experienced some terrible moments, most of which would stay with him forever. He would never admit to himself the emotional and mental toll that it took on him, but somewhere inside he had known that he needed to get out. Transferring to Fleet life had been his salvation, but it wasn't something which he discussed with many people. "It's a long story," he answered quietly as he took another large bite of pizza, "I guess I just got to the point in my life when I needed to do something different." he said, his best attempt to briefly summarize a long and complex story.

Yes, but why? she thought, studying him over the rim of her glass. Her own instincts about people, specifically marines, had led her into a near-death situation once. Just because she felt like he might not be a threat didn't mean he wasn't. And she couldn't know that until she understood how he'd left them. And she couldn't explain why she couldn't trust him until she could. It was an awful jumble of a catch-22. She lowered her gaze to her pizza. She was hungry, but unwilling to give up the little shield she had in the glass of water clasped between her hands. "Different is good," she said quietly, the noise of laughter and chatter in the room around them overwhelming her low, lilting voice.

An awkward silence slowly developed as Lamar remained quiet for several moments, then finished his second slice and sucked down more soda from his cup. Wiping his mouth again then balling up his napkin, he leaned back and took a quick break from eating. "Sorry, I know that doesn't explain much...another time I will tell you..I promise." he said with a small smile. "So do you enjoy working Beta shift?" he asked, changing the subject to something more casual.

"You don't have to," she said with a small shake of her head. "I understand... not wanting to talk about certain things. So it's... I mean, it's not..." She scowled at little at her glass. "I like working," she accepted his subject change in lieu of trying to clarify what she'd been trying to say. "Whenever. Actually, I like just having Gamma off. Everything's quieter then. And I feel like I've actually used the whole day. On my last ship I requested it, after a while. Just to stay busy, you know? So I'm used to the hours." She shrugged, pressing her fingers against the sweat developing on the outside of her glass. "What shifts do you work?"

"I'm on duty during Alpha shift but I usually stay on and get some extra work done during the beginning of Beta shift." he replied, "And of course, my midnight walkthroughs." he added with a grin. "I have to agree with you, I prefer the peace and quiet of the late night hours. Not much usually going on at 0200." he said, then started in on his third slice of pepperoni.

"Not usually, no," she agreed, nudging her glass to the side and picking up her slice to nibble on the crust end. "Have you been walking through the ship every night?"

Lamar nodded. "Yes." he answered rather simply, "I've been finding my way around much better than the last time you saw me." he said with a sideways grin. "And so far, no more security issues that I've seen." he added, grateful that the strange log entry and system reroute appeared to be a one-time incident.

"You found your way around fine with me," she said, shrugging. "You just shouldn't try to crawl through the access shafts again." She took another bite of the crust and crossed over to the cheese and sauce, savoring it. "What do you look for, when you're walking?"

"Anything really." he replied as he looked back up at her from his food. "Any equipment out of place or crewmen messing around, sometimes possible hazards. Other times, if I'm lucky, someone will show me some random secret access hatch to a secure room." he added, trying to keep a straight face as he stared into her bluish eyes.

"And look at where that got us," she said wryly, nibbling at her pizza. "I fractured my skull and you apparently got senior staff in a tiff."

"Seems like we're quite the mischievous couple." he said with a wink, then finished his final slice and drink. The chief leaned back one final time and rubbed his belly, now feeling stuffed from indulging in the pizza-fest.

"Seems like," she murmured, amused, and plucked the last pepper from her slice and held it up. "Don't panic," she warned him, and popped it in her mouth. A couple minutes later, red-faced and bleary eyed after a bout of squinting and useless hand-flapping, she sniffed hard and smiled, sitting back from the table a bit. "So you go looking for trouble," she teased him. "When you walk."

Lamar shook his head in reply as he suppressed a chuckle. "No, just making sure the crew behaves and the ship is taken care of." he said. "As for the rest of the senior officers, there isn't much I can do about them. But I've noticed that most people are getting along well and morale seems good. So far, at least." he added.

"You don't think it'll last?" she asked, wondering. She didn't have any sense of the pulse of the crew; her concern was the ship itself and she was sailing fine since they'd patched up the spot that had been giving her trouble.

"In my experience, I find that it depends on the situation." he explained in a somewhat quiet voice as he glanced around the busy mess hall. "I think being in Klingon space put everyone on edge for a few days, but now that we've returned to Federation territory I've noticed a bit more of a relaxed atmosphere." he said as he turned his attention back to Lilou. "Have a look for yourself." he added, motioning with a flick of his eyes around the still-crowded room and the many conversations and interactions taking place.

Lilou did, but it didn't seem all that different to her than it had been a few days before. Thinking maybe he was seeing something in particular, she crossed around and sat on his side of the table beside him, peering out across the bobbing and weaving ocean of heads. No. Still the same. A whole room full of socialization, the minutiae of which she couldn't differentiate. Instead of trying to categorize and understand it - she'd done that a hundred times and always come up short - she focused on something she could figure out. A little puzzle. "Interesting," she murmured, rubbing her fingers against the sweat of her glass as she thought. "That the crew relaxes as the senior staff gets tense." It made her wonder what she wasn't hearing. Aside from that one meeting where she and the other junior officers had been informed of the clearance level ten purpose of their mission, she hadn't heard another word about it. She assumed the senior staff knew more than her, but she couldn't be sure. And she couldn't ask, because a) it wasn't any of her business and b) it would be a breach of protocol to bring it up in the first place. And the spirits only knew what the captain hadn't told them about the mission. There were any number of ulterior motives behind even the single ulterior motive she had been apprised of. Or whether what Lamar had noticed about the senior staff had anything to do with the mission or its motives, or whether they were puzzled or troubled by something else entirely that they were also keeping from the crew at large. It was like peeling an onion. "Seems kind of backwards, doesn't it?"

"Yea, I suppose." he answered thoughtfully. He hadn't given much thought to the senior officer dynamics, as they weren't as much his responsibility as the enlisted and civilian personnel, but he had to agree that something strange might be going on. As far as he knew, they were completing a routine resupply followed by a quick cartography mission to complete the shakedown run. In his mind, he began to think through the various department heads and command staff that he had met. He still remembered the first time he had seen the captain. It had been from afar and he had almost collided into a bulkhead while walking as he gawked at her and lost sight of the walls. But he had never spoken to her personally outside of a staff meeting, and had no idea what she was like. "What do you think of the captain? Have you met her?" he asked Lilou.

"The captain?" She ducked her head, remembering the two occasions she'd had to interact directly with the captain. Lilou had been so nervous, she'd practically been shaking; fresh off the Algonquin and ready to be torn down, disassembled, and scattered all over again. Or simply left behind like a piece of scrap metal to watch the Galileo take off without her. Had it only been days ago? It felt like years. Somehow, Saalm had managed to see past her awful case of nerves and rambling and had let her on board. Lilou would have taken a phaser blast for the captain for that alone. "Yes, I've met her." She tried to think about those two interactions, what they said about the captain. But she couldn't work her head around the details of the experience; the memories were caught up in data analysis and hypotheses, trying to find solutions to questions posed, rather than any assessment of the captain's skills as a leader or person. She rolled her shoulder, glancing at him sideways. "I'm not really qualified to have opinions about her, or anyone," she tried to explain. She wasn't about to tell an ex-marine that she had problems identifying social and personal cues; that was a weakness that she knew from experience could be exploited. "Have you?"

Lamar thought back to the several command staff meetings that he had attended with the CO and XO present. "I've seen her in a couple meetings and the occasional briefing, but I haven't spoken to her directly." he answered with a shake of his head. "She seems...laid back, very personable. Not really what I was expecting from a starship captain, to be honest. And, she's obviously very beautiful." he added.

"There is that," Lilou agreed. That wasn't so hard. Pointing out physical characteristics. She could do that. And, she thought about his description. She wasn't sure laid-back was entirely apt, but then again her sensors for personal characteristics had been on the fritz for a while now. "She isn't like the other captains I've known," she said. That much, she knew to be true. She hadn't felt dismissed or discounted in any of their interactions, as she had felt on the Algonquin in her few interactions with her captain there. Or patronized, as she had on the Qin. Then again, she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. What did it really matter how she was treated, so long as the captain inspired loyalty by any means necessary. That was it, she thought. That was the key in being a good captain. She felt a little thrill at being able to pinpoint it. Inspiring loyalty and being able to keep it. "What did you expect?"

"Well," he began as he took a deep breath, "In the Corps, the equivalent of a starship captain would be a colonel...and most colonels I know are hard as nails and don't take crap from anyone." he said with a slight chuckle. "Not that Commander Saalm isn't tough...she obviously is if she was chosen for command...but for some reason, I find it hard to imagine her getting in people's faces and enforcing discipline." he added, then shrugged. "Of course, I could be wrong. And she does appear to be doing a fine job with the ship and crew so far. I guess I just thought she would be a bit...older. And less...Orion." he finished with a small smile.

Lilou smiled slightly. "She is awfully pretty," she said, still considering the table. "Even for an Orion. I think it's better, maybe, this way without the forcefulness if you can make people want to pull together instead of just making them do it that's more - like aligning an ODN network to function without periodic plasma instigators. Get all the energy moving in the right direction on its own and you don't have to do near as many repairs." She'd been talking mostly to herself, drawing little circles on the table with her index finger.

There it was again. That quirkiness that he had been attracted to when they had first met a couple days ago. Coupled with her small demeanor, Lamar considered her his almost polar opposite, both in personality and looks. Perhaps that was why he had become so fond of her. He nodded at her assessment then sat quietly as he watched her finish eating. He was feeling quite full at the moment and didn't especially want to get up out of the booth.

She glanced at him, unsure if his silence was a sign that he wanted to be quiet or whether he wanted her to say something. It was unnerving, the way he studied her; she couldn't discern exactly what he was looking for - and because of that she couldn't figure out what she should have been concealing or allowing him to see. She glanced at him sideways, checking his eyes. Nope. Brown irises. Not a Betazoid. So he wasn't actually picking her brain, despite the fact that the staring felt a bit like that. Bit by bit, she picked her way through her single slice, tearing off little sections and nibbling them in a precision pattern to allow for the best cheese to sauce to bread ratio for each bite. When she was done, she wiped her fingers on one of the napkins, took a sip of water, and looked at him sideways again. She'd been thinking very hard about just turning and asking him what he wanted, but the image of Kiri's huddled, scared form in the shuttlecraft kept flooding her mind's eye every time she worked up the courage to try speaking up. And though she didn't think she'd scare him, she might very well make him angry. And the more she thought about the possibility of him getting angry, the tighter her chest felt. Her shoulders began to curve slightly inward, protectively, anticipating a reaction she was decidedly trying to avoid evoking. Her breath grew loud in her ears and she shut her eyes. Happy things, she reminded herself trying to breathe steady. What had the counselor said? What makes you - no, the sensation of happiness. What is the sensation of happiness? It felt like her lungs were actually vibrating with the effort of breathing, but she ignored it. Her cheeks warmed, the space behind her eyes moistened. Breathe. Sensation of happiness. Why had it been so easy before? Quiet. It had been quiet. Not the mountains of noise and intermittent explosions of laughter. Breathe. Her hands flattened on the table subconsciously, trying to ground herself. Quiet. All quiet. She pictured the space outside the windows, expanding endlessly into dark, silent nothing, with moments of life just blossoming or dying infinitesimally in the overwhelming emptiness. Air rushed back into her lungs and she squeezed her eyes shut hard for a beat as the world slowly righted itself and the noise of the room poured back over her.

Lamar didn't know what was happening to her but she didn't look comfortable. She almost appeared terrified, curled up in the chair, her eyes shut and cheeks flushed with a light sheen of sweat now coating her face. He wondered what he could have had said or done to provoke such a reaction, then remembered his medical training and realized she was showing signs of an anxiety attack. "Hey." he said to her as he leaned forward, elbows on now on the table. "Lilou, are you okay?" he asked with a frown.

"Fine," she said, though her voice was a little tight. Mortified. Embarrassed. Abashed. Chagrined. Humiliated. Ashamed. Those were the right words, but she was damned if she was going to voice them. Why did he have to be a marine? she thought, hiccuping quietly. He seemed so nice otherwise. Big, yes, but most people were, relatively. She'd been trying to forget it, push past it, but the awful, too close possibility of that terrifying finishing feeling where everything faded to grey without any of that nice light people talked about. She didn't want to die. She didn't want to get that close to it again. Not like that. Tears leaked from her eyes despite herself, her core tightening and quaking with the attempt to hold herself still and not fly out of the room. The awful thing was she knew in her head that he hadn't done anything. Just looked at her. What was the harm in looking? Only she hadn't known what the looks had meant before either - right before she'd had her nose crushed and learned what it was like to sprint on a broken leg. Right before that, everything had seemed fine. Not fine, but... controlled. She took another quaking breath, blinking hard again. At least the stupid, useless tears had stopped. She wiped her face with the back of her hand, frustrated with herself. Nothing new there. "I'm fine. I'm sorry." She couldn't look at him. "I'm sorry," saying it again brought another wave of tears up, but she forcefully swallowed them back. They're going to throw me off the ship, out the airlock, just because I can't take a simple order. Forget it happened. Why the hell can't I forget it happened? She rolled her shoulders, stretching her head to the side. Get it together, Peers. Come on! "Guess those peppers had a second wave," she tried weakly.

He cringed inside as he watched her lose her composure and begin to cry. He didn't know why or what was upsetting her, and he hoped it wasn't him. Somewhere inside, however, he had a strange and uncomfortable feeling that it might be. Sighing and rubbing his forehead in frustration, he finally put his large hand over hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. It was cold and clammy. "Hey...Peers, you know if you ever need to talk about something or if anything is wrong...we can always go somewhere private and talk." he said, his best attempt to coax an explanation from her. He was pretty sure he was witnessing an emotional breakdown, to which he was ill-equipped to handle. A Klingon boarding party? No problem. Mental baggage? Not so much.

"About peppers?" she asked, trying to force a smile. She still couldn't look up at him, but her gaze zeroed in on his hand. Turning her hand beneath his, she focused on tracing his palm, feeling the lines and callouses while she studied the back of his hand. His knuckles were smooth, not roughened or scarred. They didn't look like hands that spent a great deal of time pummeling things or people. As she focused, her breath sank low in her belly and slowed. She could feel the callouses on the palm from years of having cradled rifles and heavy weapons, knew the difference by feel of a hand that knew how to hold a phaser and one that didn't. "Type IIIC," she murmured. "Sixteen beam settings. Activated plasma acceleration. Autonomous recharge system. Gyrostabilised. Holosight model fifty-one. Multiple target acquisition capable. Increased energy reserve. Light assembly." As she recited the specs, her fingers brushed the parts of his hand they affected, and she thought about what they implied. Tactics versus force. Usefulness versus pride. Resourcefulness. Conservation. Specificity. Her shoulders relaxed. "No more spicy food for me today," she said quietly. At the table next to them, three crewman burst out into raucous laughter at some unheard joke. She dragged her gaze up from their hands to Lamar's face. "Promise."

The chief felt her fingers playing with his hand, a reassuring sign that she was feeling more comfortable now. It was also the first time she'd shown him any true affection. Smiling inside, he nodded in approval. "Alright." he said simply, "So what time do you have to go back to the lab?" he asked, changing the subject as noticed the time on a nearby wall terminal.

"I need to test these short-range spacial forcefield armbands first," she said, nodding to the four thick metal bands around her arm. "I'm on duty til zero-hundred, so..." she looked down. Part of her wanted to crawl to her quarters, turn off the lights, and hide until she could stop picturing what a freak she must have looked and acted like only minutes ago. Another part had found a comfort and sense of control in convincing herself that this hand wasn't a threat and she wasn't quite willing to let it go. "Are you... I mean... did- I was going to go to the holodeck to... if you're... I mean, it's just a prototype, but-"

"Sure," he replied with a smile, cutting her off mid-sentence and putting an end to her nervous question. "I'd like that. The holodeck, you said?" he asked curiously, wondering why she needed to go there.

She nodded. "The original design was just for average human physical force, but then I went back and augmented the design to recalibrate for greater than human physical force and phaser blasts. I could try to recruit a variety of petty officers to attack it, but I'd be putting them at risk and I'd still need to test them against phaser and pulse blasts, so... only place to do that is the holodeck. " Lilou darted a look at him and then at the ransacked tray that had previously been full of food. "Did- were you finished?"

"All finished," he nodded, feeling slightly less full. He had downed quite a large amount of pizza and soda in a short period, and it took his body a few minutes to catch up. Now, with his belly satisfied, he was ready to tackle the last few duties before the end of his shift. And now he also had something to look forward to later tonight. Spending more time with Lilou. "What about you, are you finished?" he asked politely before standing up.

"Mm," she nodded, rising to join him. "It was... thank you." She brushed her thumb across the callous at the base of his palm, reminding herself of the Type IIIc, and let go to clear the table of the remains of their meal.

"Anytime." Lamar answered, wrapping his fingers in between Lilou's and gave her a final, gentle squeeze before slowly standing up from the booth. He quickly helped her clean the table, tossing a couple balled up napkins and rogue crusts onto the empty plates, then grabbed the tray and dumped it in the nearest recycling bin. Turning around, he looked back his new friend. "So...what time should I be at the holodeck?" he asked.

"I put in a bid for its availability before I saw you. I'll check when I get back to Engineering and let you know?" she said, looking studiously at the floor as they crossed towards the mess hall doors.

"Okay." he replied, looking down at her as they walked together out of the mess hall. Once out in the corridor and preparing to go their separate ways, he couldn't help himself and suddenly snaked his arm around her slim shoulders, giving her a tight and affectionate squeeze against his body. "I have to finish up some last-minute things on Deck 4, but I'll look forward to hearing from you soon." he said.

Her eyes shot wide as he tugged her against him. She hadn't been hugged since... well... Academy, she realized with a start. As surprising and unexpected as it was, she felt an awful sense of relief at the contact. So much so that she almost collapsed into it, pressing her cheek to his chest and luxuriating, cat-like, in the sheer pleasure of being touched. At least until she remembered she was standing in the middle of a busy corridor; she stepped back, nodded in lieu of the words she couldn't think of, and sped towards the turbolift.

Watching her run off, he stared and watched the feminine bob of her hips as she darted down the corridor. He wondered what she looked like out of uniform...in civilian clothes. Maybe in a dress of some sort. Though, somehow, he couldn't picture it without a few tears, smudges and a utility belt. Shaking his head to dismiss his wild thoughts, he smiled to himself as he wandered back to his desk.

[OFF]

-----

MWO Lilou Peers
Assistant Chief Engineering Officer
USS Galileo

MCPO Lamar Darius
Chief of the Boat
USS Galileo

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