Tipsy Tumbles

Posted on 07/02/2020 @ 10:19pm by

Mission: S2E1: The Skunil Incident
Location: Arboretum
Timeline: Day 3 at 0015

Lieutenant Jordan Joral had retreated into the arboretum following a few too many non-synthetic drinks, longing to be close to nature. Or at least as close as one could get to it serving aboard starships, which periodically stopped at bases and outposts. He had found himself lost, humming an old tune after scaling one of the many trees inside the arboretum. Legs swung from the branch he’d nested upon, keenly nursing a Midori Sour in his hand.

Sherlock had adamantly become impossible to peel from the greenery after Kieran’s chance encounter with the commanding officer for his next assignment. He doubted it was entirely luck on his part, managing to catch the man in a pleasant mood from his impression. In the least, nature had a soothing effect on many, and while there wasn’t much to go around on a small outpost he would take what he could get. The pup on the other hand, had made a choice decision to be in full agreement, whether aware from a sentient point or not.

He’d been wandering from each bush to investigate for the better part of twelve minutes now, post-discussion, elatedly hopping when he noticed a new tree crossing his path. The wonder it must have been for a puppy, a small element of the diplomat wishing he could savour that feeling again. It was hard to be pleased by something so pure and simple, when you didn’t have the time to appreciate it. There was a speck of wisdom passed down by his mentor to truly revel in life as the few opportunities came. You only had one. Having shared that bit with his sister, Aya could only fervently agree. Now, more than ever he wished he had appreciated it more during the period he’d been in between assignments. Yes, there was a plentitude of relaxation and no longer having to worry on many, if any deadlines. But he hadn’t been graced with the chance for exploring. Not to the hopes he’d longed for. There was still far too much paperwork and searching to be done for his next assignment.

That was several months ago, when Victrix was still around, before she left to go on a daring mission south. The woman always found something to keep him busy, which now he admittedly recognised was a piece of something he would readily miss. In either case, there was little point reminiscing over it when there were fewer than several hours to enjoy it. No doubt he had to get his station set up aboard, ready for launch.

J.J. Had a good vantage point up from the tree, witnessing the small creature and the man traveling with it. He thought both were interesting, and the pair was one that gave him a particular joy to see. There were children aboard this starship whose behaviour was more reckless and out of control than the animal he was watching. Somehow, this infantile creature had more grace and discipline than the children of Starfleet officers. This also made him reflect momentarily that he had not had a pet since his years at the academy.

Gently carrying over his tune, the Trill watched from above as the man and his companion drew closer. He suspected the creature had picked up his scent, or noticed the movement of the branch as it started to set a course for the tree. J.J., who in his own right was properly tipsy from the Midoi Sour he had been sipping on, which had not been his first for the night. He began losing his balanced, immediately thinking ‘Oh no… oh no,’ as he struggled to keep himself on the branch. The nearly empty glass disembarked from his hand, falling to the ground as a prelude to his own fate.

Beneath him the opposite male looked curiously over the fallen glass, wondering exactly when meteorites had become a feature as raining liquor tumblers. Had that been something new for the arboretum? Most likely not, given within a few moments his last thoughts were ‘Oww,’ as he became the awkward cushion breaking the lieutenant’s fall. Air vacated his lungs as he shortly coughed, drawing fresh oxygen in. As much good as it would have done him to look above, it likely wouldn’t have saved him anything sparing a sprained ankle for leaping out of the way.

J.J. counted himself fortunate for not having broken anything, though for a split second he pondered if his injuries were just dulled by the liquor. He quickly realised that he had landed on someone — not just the ground. Flattened on his back, he realised the man beneath him was none other than the creature handler. Looking over him, J.J.’s freckled face gazed into earthly coloured eyes, blushing as he tried to contain a nervous, inebriated if not immature giggle. “Hey,” he said softly to the man beneath him. “Thank you, for catching me…or at least softening my landing. I don’t think I’m winning the gold medal for that one.” J.J. grinned teasingly at his own expense.

Deadweight eyes fell upon the meek bloke from Kieran, who looked over him in disbelief bearing a less-than-thrilled expression. Soon fading to a smirk from the infectious grin, he realised he wanted to be angry. He really did, but the fact of the matter had been rage had never truly been an easy tally for him. Not in the past, nor any sooner in the present. While not an outright impossibility, he’d long since tuned that energy into keying the subtler details of what triggered such a potential reaction. Was it the surprise? Or the brief, if not spontaneous pain? Maybe, but both had subsided. “Hey yourself,” the sandy-blond chuckled.

J.J. continued to nervously fumble around with how to respond. It was not as simple as sorry nor could he dismiss what had just happened and why was he remaining frozen atop of this man? All questions he wanted his symbiont to answer. The previous host would have not found this amusing, but J.J. did. "I'm a bit tipsy" he confessed, his eyes glossed over from the alcohol with their darkly gleam.

Noticing the commotion, Sherlock yipped from his startle as he hopped back and forth, playing an invisible game of keep away. His youthful energy practically read, ‘Try to get me. Now you can’t!’ as he pranced about, warily building the courage to near as he lapped as his friend’s cheek, soon inviting himself atop the chest as yet another weight. Kieran had only been too thankful the pup was never going to be that large, and in his own state was little more than half a kilogram. “I suppose I should thank you, for not crushing my dog,” he admitted, point blank. His smirk transitioned to a chuckle, barely repressed from the awkward circumstance. “At least one of us was spared.”

"Sorry," replied the Trill First Officer as he noticed the excitable dog bouncing about and finding his own placement atop of the man, officially making it a bit of a pack pile. "Though it could have been worse. It could have been a house" J.J. teased. "I am usually better with my balance, I swear. I mean they don't just let you on the cheer squad for nothing" added the freckle-faced First Officer of the USS Crazy Horse.

Focus drifting momentarily, Kieran became only too glad that nothing larger had collapsed atop him, given he wasn't going to win any height contents himself. He offered a meek smile towards the other, faintly laughing as Sherlock offered what soothing touch he could. Releasing a stray 'eh heh' titter against the remark made, his confusion softened.

"Not that I don't challenge that, but..." he looked downwards towards his legs, before redrawing his attention to speak with the stranger. "Would you mind uhh...sliding off a bit. Please? Not that you're heavy, or anything. But...I don't usually make a habit of doing anything like...well. This."

His face straightened, looking over the vaguely uncomfortable situation on his part, not really certain of what dialogue to offer. Most importantly without offending the other. "Then again...I expect you don't make a habit of falling on top of people. So...I guess we're even."

"I never fall, accidentally at least," recounted J.J. as he mused over the counter just moments prior. "I mean, this time yes. But just this time," he quickly added in a method to ease the contradiction. Slipping off the man, he brought himself back up onto his feet and extended his hand as an offer to pull Kieran up with a disarmingly apologetic smile.

He inwardly noted they had not been formally introduced yet either. "Lieutenant Jordan Joral, Executive Officer. USS Crazy Horse," he stated amidst a chipper disposition. The other grasped his palm firmly, tugging himself into a standing position once more with a grin. "And please to make your acquaintance..."

"Oh, right. First Lieutenant Kieran Nachtgeist. Chief Diplomatic Officer. Same vessel, as of a week ago. I just arrived not too long ago. Someone decided they wanted some fresh air." Not unlike Kieran's personality, mixing the informal with the expected formalities, he graced vision towards the pup who was now clawing at his leg. Whimpering until he was picked up, Sherlock happily lapped at the other, yipping once more delightedly.

"You must have just missed Commander D'Anvers. He and I had a brief conversation just a few minutes prior until. Well. This."

The introduction puzzled J.J. only momentarily until his brain sparked and he remembered. "Oh gosh yeah...sorry, I'm still a bit woozy, but I recall your assignment to the Crazy Horse. Your personnel file sure the heck didn't do you justice" he said with a small smile. "I thought Marines were supposed to be machine manufactured jarheads, but apparently I've been stuck on outdated memoranda" quipped the First Officer.

J.J. admired the dog for a few moments, then looked back at the man. "How does one become a Marine and end up assigned as a Diplomatic Officer?" inquired Lieutenant Joral. "No offense, but aren't marines typically assigned to forward operating bases and planetary assignments?"

Kieran could feel the temptation of amusement tug at the corners of his lips. "I'm what you might call an outlier of the sigma." The pup tilted his face, looking at the freckled man across, to which the diplomat only brushed his nose, scratching behind the ears just after. "As to the latter. Long story. You're not wrong. Most are sent to high risk areas. Others, like myself, had a closer tie with the Special Security Division. We're assigned as marshals to safeguard an area, or person. If not a territory, political officials."

He pointed to the Diplomatic Corps emblem just below his shoulder-line on his left. "My case. I may have been adopted. The rest is history."

"I see, cushy posting," teased J.J. "Well, I say that in jest of course. It is not as hostile as a planet under constant bombardment, but you may want reassignment once you meet the Acting Chief Engineer" added Lieutenant Joral. "He's enough to turn my hair, but I am hoping as we take on more crew, we will find a good counterbalance to his wild and crazy."

J.J. let out a soft sigh. "On the plus side, a Luna class starship is a great assignment for someone seeking to keep their head on their shoulders or someone like me who's not quite fitting the usual Starfleet mold."

Pursing his lips as he swayed his head forward into a bobbed nod, Kieran accepted the suggestion entailing the ship. "I've seen my fair bit of action. And the front lines. Nothing war time, but may as well have been a few times. I was posted on Pacifica for a while, where there aren't really any allies out in that area for quite a reach. Also grew up in the Romulan's back yard, during the war. Area was tense as it was." He shrugged, relaxing as the other sighed just a hint.

"Everyone has their own challenges. This will be one of mine. First major starship assignment. The rest were colony bound, headquarter bound, or base bound while attached to something. Or someone."

"Fabulous," replied J.J. with a chuckle. "Losing your starship virginity aboard the Crazy Horse. Now, that's going to definitely be an experience. Me? I'm in a similar boat. This is my first assignment as a First Officer, and I am honestly still trying to make sense of it all because, well, joined Trill and all that jazz."

Gladdened by the light mood he'd witnessed between both the commander, and now Joral, a smirk lifted his expression. "You certain you don't want to bail? Tipsy tumbles and all. 375 isn't that far from Trill." His jovial tone dropped the tease, paused only when he looked at him, waving off the notion. "I'm certain you'll do fine. If I can survive as an aide de camp in a far off region where no one likes the Federation, this should be a walk in the park for you." He looked around. "How fitting that you started it off in an arboretum."

J.J.'s eyes widened with an expression of fear and his tapping of his foot against the ground; that was angst and nervousness. "Oh, I do not need a reminder of how close 375 is to Trill. The last place I want to be near is home," he said taking a deep breath and exhaling with stress. "My mom is not supportive of my joining with the Joral symbiont. Truth be told, I've only relatively recently 'come out' to my family as having been joined. I did not intend to even let them know, but my behavioral changes and eating habits forced my hand."

Kieran's cheerful expression turned sour into a grimace as he noted the sudden change of tone within their once pleasant dialogue. It wasn't dire, but from what he could gather and the information offered to him whatever dwelled back home for the Trill in front of him clearly wasn't something he longed for. "That's unfortunate. I'm sorry. My mother and I don't see eye to eye, either. Haven't for a long time. She left my family when I was young. Effectively ostracised me after joining the Corps."

"Mothers," replied J.J. with a shrug.

The slighter of the two exhaled, releasing tension. "Some people will always judge you. Some of which come from unexpected, or otherwise unfortunate areas. Important thing is to find those who do accept you. That I've learned quickly. Here's to hoping you'll find that on board, yeah?"

Jodon nodded and couldn't help but smile. "I guess that I was a bit quick to judge you as a Marine. I won't make that mistake again. You are still getting settled in aboard I'm sure, but after things calm down maybe we could discuss 'mothers' over some tea or coffee?"

Grin returning from the measure offered, Kieran's mood thoroughly grew for the better. "Contrary to popular belief, the best diplomat is not a fully armed and charged phaser bank," he suggested with a wink before a snicker fell from his mouth. "Definitely. I look forward to seeing you, and others aboard."

Lieutenant Jodon Joral gave a polite nod. "I shall see you around then, Lieutenant" noted J.J. He brushed off his clothing and cleared his throat. "Goodnight," he added before parting ways with the Diplomatic Officer.