Going for a drink in the lounge (Shock/Marishka)

Posted May 31, 2023, 5:22 a.m. by Lieutenant Shock (Chief of Security) (Richard A)

Posted by Civilian Marishka (Lounge Host) in Going for a drink in the lounge (Shock/Marishka)

Posted by Lieutenant Shock (Chief of Security) in Going for a drink in the lounge (Shock/Marishka)

Posted by Civilian Marishka (Lounge Host) in Going for a drink in the lounge (Shock/Marishka)
Posted by… suppressed (5) by the Post Ghost! 👻
For the first time for a few weeks, Shock found himself with a free day. He thought of what he could do. He had already done all the regular physical exercises. He considered going back to studying Klingon or meditating, when the thought of Klingon made him think of Marishka. They had promised one another to “catch up” (as his human crewmen would say), and she had been looking forward to sharing a pitcher of mango-infused black water – whatever that was. Shock took his promises seriously, and decided to see if Marishka might be in the lounge.

As he walked to the lounge, he thought of their shared experience over breakfast a while back. It was a strangely intimate conversation between near-strangers. What would it be like this time?

He entered the lounge, and looked around to see if he would see Marishka.

– Shock (off duty, but wearing his uniform because why not)

Marishka always seemed to be entering or exiting some part of the Parthenon. At his moment, however, she was seated on, not at, the bar. Every once in a while the place was very quiet and this was one of those rare times. She had been catching up on what passed for personal correspondence before the next wave of people and staff arrived. That didn’t mean that Shock’s entrance went unnoticed though.

Tucking a PaDD away behind the bar, she decided to greet him herself.

“Well well. Seems you’ve made it here yourself. Nice to see you again. Have you come for that pitcher of blk water? It just so happens I have some fresh mangoes in.”

  • Marishka

It was odd seeing her sitting on the bar – in fact seeing any one. The purpose of a bar is not to be sat on, especially as there are chairs and stools provided. Indeed, today was even a quiet day. What function did the behaviour of sitting on the bar serve? Should Shock ask her about it? He decided on no.

“It is agreeable to meet you again,” he replied in his Vulcan voice devoid of feeling. “Indeed, I should like that. Would you join me?”

– Lt Shock (COS)

Marishka’s mind inwardly settled as she remembered what it was like to be in the company of a Vulcan once again.

“Yes. I have a lovely little pocket of time to do just that. Come, I’ll show you to the best table in the place.”

Marishka lead them to a table that, to most other people, would seem to be hosen at random. From a security standpoint one could see all entrances/exits and, from Marishka’s standpoint, she could watch the comings and goings of her staff with ease.

“And how are you today?” she asked waving Ted over.

  • Marishka

Shock sat down at the designated spot. A security officer himself, he deduced Marishka’s intention of sitting where she chose. Would it mean she’d pay him more or less attention this way, compared to sitting elsewhere?

“I am well,” he replied, “I’ve been busier than usual lately, which is why it is only now I’ve picked up on your offer of sharing a drink. I hope I have not dishonoured you by being so late.”

He looked at Marishka’s face, trying to discern her feelings and attitudes at this moment.

– Shock

Marsihka smiled slightly at Shock.

“I felt no dishonor at all. My invitation didn’t have an expiration date. They usually don’t. This ship is a hub of activity and, unless something is time sensitive, I try to work under the operating theory that people will get to something as soon as they have the time available to them.” she said as she slipped intot he seat across from him.

“I appreciate that,” Shock replied, “I continue to hold you in high regard.”

When Ted approached he waited silently before interrupting at a natural lul in the conversation.

“Hello Chief. Boss, I thought you’d want to know that Daphne has decided to try her hand at pastry chef today.” Ted said.

The tone in Ted’s voice did not inspire confidence in Marishka but, she knew she didn’t have to tell him to keep an eye on Daphne.

Nor did it inspire confidence in Shock – but this was certainly not Shock’s arena to act within.

“Well it’s a good thing we have more capable hands int he kitchen at the moment. Please bring us a pitcher of Blk Water with Mangoes, extra mangoes on the side and a deluxe appetizer platter.” she said.

Nodding, Ted walked away.

Shock acknowledged Ted with a nod signifying “off you go”.

Marishka glanced from entrance to entrance sensing the next wave of patrons and staff would be arriving soon.

“Your colleague appears…” Shock began, speaking of Ted, – he wanted to say apprehensive, gossipy, and un-independent, but he decided not to continue in that line. After all, it was not Shock’s arena. It was not his place. “… jovial.” He hoped the adjective saved the situation.

“How many people do you manage? What is it like for you, managing them? I can’t help but notice your glances away from us to the lounge itself, even this positioning. It appears to me that they need your watchful eyes.”

  • Marishka

– Shock

Marishka settled in and leaned back a bit. She should have remembered how observant any COS of a ship this large would have to be.

“It’s my job to know the ebb and flow of things around here and that includes when we’re about to be hit by the next wave of hungry people. They really don’t need my eyes on them but I guess I enjoy my job. My staff are volunteers that come from all departments. They do this in their off time. You might even find a few of your off duty people here on any given day.”

This was news to Shock, but it was refreshing to him to learn new – and quite important – details about the functioning of the ship. The lounge was important for everyone onboard, it was necessary for the very function of the ship.

“I appreciate learning this,” he said with genuinety in his voice.

As Marsihka was finishing, Ted returned with the pitcher and a platter of snacks. She had the sense he wanted to linger a bit but, today was far too busy.

Shock noticed Ted’s wish to stay further. He wondered why – was Ted curious about Shock? About Marishka? Was there something actually requiring Marishka’s attention? Shock decided not to comment on it – it was not his place. This was Marishka’s arena, she was boss here. Shock was simply her guest, which was an honour for him in itself. This ship was big, and Marishka was a central person for hundreds, if not thousands, of people. He had respect for her important work.

“Thank you Ted. I see the new caviar was finally put on the menu. Oh, and I left the schedule behind the bar for you.” Marishka said.

Nodding, Ted took his cue and left. Marishka poured them each a tall glass of the water making certain there was a generous amount of small mango chunks in each.

“I find this very refreshing after a morning of Kelpian tea or just when I really crave mangoes.” Marishka explained.

Shock nodded, and took a sip. It was a curious sensation to drink something with chunks in – a new one too. In Vulcan cuisine, or as far as Shock himself could ascertain, drinks were fully liquid. Yet, he did eat (or did he actually drink?) soup and porridge and so on… It was chewy, but such things were eaten (or drunk?) by spoon. It was curious, indeed, fascinating. Then came the taste. It was pleasant and enjoyable. He was almost surprised – he managed to suffocate the emotion of surprise before it became apparent.

“I can sense why,” he replied, again with honesty. “Perhaps it will be a routine I will pick up on, too.”

The large platter between them contained a variety of nibbles. Sweet, savory, vegetarian, and non-vegetarian. She had a strong feelign the Shock would find something to his liking. She also knew from personal experience that not every Vulcan was a strict vegetarian.

  • Marishka

He looked at the platter and could not ascertain really what it was he was seeing. He was not a nibbler – it was not how he was raised but he knew the importance of it. He would always try and be respectful and at least partake in a little of it.

He picked up a piece, it looked like something that had been baked in the oven, and was about the size of his thumb.

“I shall try this,” he said, holding it in his hands (thus breaking Vulcan mores of never touching food, but when in Rome, as his studies on Earth had taught him), “Pray tell, what is it I am to eat? I have never seen it.”

– Shock (off duty)

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