Just Following Orders I
Invictus - Crew Commons =>Invictus<=
This is the ship's common room, a place for the crew to relax, eat, and talk. In the middle of the room is a big table with comfortable chairs placed around it. To the port side near the Med Bay's entrance is a simple kitchen beside a basic storage rack for food and drinks. Starboard, the entry to the Crew Quarters can be found, as well as a number of large lockers for the crew's kit storage. To the room's aft are placed some couches opposite to a Cortex terminal and a large screen where currently some sort of gaming console appears to be hooked up. Between the couches, a small table holds some books and other things to read. Finally, to the front near the entrance to the Captain's Quarters, a corkscrew stairway up to the Bridge can be seen.
Trandyr, having fallen asleep on the couch in the dining room corner, is woken by the sound of Alabaster's gorram humming. Growling, he sits up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and opening his mouth to snap at whomever is causing the noise. Seeing his XO, however, he satisfies himself with a mumble under his breath, and slowly heaves himself up off the couch, puttering over to lend a hand.
Slipping into the commons, Wren spots Alabaster and wanders over in his general direction. There's a sort of hesitancy to her movements that might imply she isn't certain she wants to be there. She glances over to see the pilot wakening and moves awkwardly after him into the kitchen.
Alabaster Smith glances over, and offers broad smiles to his crewmates. "Good evening, folks. How is everyone? Ah, thank you, Trandyr, if you'd like to help dry the dishes, that would be lovely."
Trandyr groans and takes up a towel, drying off the dishes and neatly stacking them in their racks. With a long-suffering look on his face, he turns to his crewmates and suddenly breaks into a grin. "Ya know, 'just 'curred to me...Its what...over 300 years since humanity left Earth-That-Was...we've fought an interstellar war...we live in a spaceship, flying around the 'Verse at speeds that would boggle any land-lovers mind...and we haven't found a better way to do dishes in all this time? A way that doesn't waste so much water? Whatever happened to human progress?"
Wren twists her fingers together, shifting on her feet uneasily as Alabaster greets them and Trandyr wonders on modern progress in dishwashing. "Cap'n says I gotta talk to you," she says by way of explanation, and then stops. Her eyes keep moving about the space as if looking for someplace else to be, never settling on anywhere for long.
Alabaster Smith chuckles at Trandyr's lamentations. "Ah'm afraid that sometimes, the future just isn't what it used to be, mah friend. And washing dishes in a spaceship is still a low-tech affair." He peers at Wren. "He does, does he? Did he say what you were to talk to me about?" he asks curiously.
Placing the last dish back in the over-head rack, Trandyr dries his hands on the towel and turns to face Wren. Smiling at first, it turns into a concerned frown at her obvious agitation. "What is it, Wren? What's the news? Is everything okay?"
Wren nods solemnly in response to Alabaster's question, adding, "Everyone." Her weight shifts again as she looks to the pilot and grimaces but doesn't directly answer his question. Steeling herself as if about to get a shot or see a dentist, she wraps her arms about her middle and then stands very still. "Let the rest a the crew know that it might be possible, regardless of what precautions ya take, that you mi' be wanderin' out in the night-time, not quite in yer right mind." The words are coming out of her mouth, but the cadence and accent of the speech is that of Grey's.
Alabaster Smith nods sagely. "Thank you for alerting us to this," he says. He doesn't sound surprised, but then again, he speaks to God, he knows more than he lets on. "Ah'll certainly be aware, and Ah won't leave the sharp objects out, just in case." Now he might be teasing. A little.
Trandyr nods in an equally sage manner...so much so that, for the barest moment, he appears to be mocking Alabaster. Then, dead panning, he says, "Ah knew a guy once who sleptwalked near ev'ry night. Found he was...susceptible to suggestion in that state. Made myself quite a profit. Ya wouldn't have the same condition, would ya?"
Looking everywhere except at the two people she is speaking with, Wren simply nods in response to Alabaster's words. Her eyes dart sideways at Trandyr's question, taking in the pilot in a glance. "I walk. In my sleep. An' I'm 'sposed to tell you," she repeats, holding onto those words as if they're the only things keeping her from taking flight.
Alabaster Smith smiles comfortingly at Wren. "It's okay," he tells her. "Just promise me you'll try not to fly the ship or open the hatches while we're in the Black, while you're asleep. Ah reckon if we can avoid those circumstances, we're fine." As always, he exudes that quietly warm sense of acceptance. You could tell him you eat puppies, and he'd still nods and smile.
Trandyr chuckles and takes a step up to Wren, laying a comforting hand on her right shoulder. "Look, Ms. Wren. I appreciate the warning - and I'll tell Grey as much when I see him. But I seen battles...hell, I seen a whole damn war. A little sleepwalking...even a lot of sleepwalking...I can deal with. Now, if *you* should need any help, and know of anything we can do...just let us know. We're a crew yes, but I think Mr. Smith would agree that we're a family first. Ain't that right, preacher?" Smiling, he withdraws his hand and holds it out for her to shake. "We're here for ya, no matter how much we might jive ya in the meantime. You hold me to what I just said now, okay?"
Wren shifts her gaze back to the Preacher as he speaks, focusing in on his words a bit more. She seems about to say something when Trandyr steps closer and places his hand on her shoulder. Her head turns to look at the hand and then follows back along his arm to his face as he speaks. "Battles and war. They walk with me," she responds in agreement, furrowing her brow as he continues to speak. "Words can hold you," she agrees again, staring at the pilot's hand for a moment before it occurs to her to reach her own out in return.
Alabaster Smith nods at Trandyr's words. "Ah'd like to think we're slowly becoming a family, of sorts. We've a ways to go in some ways, but nonetheless..." He chuckles. "And Ah know we'll take care of one another." A little more soberly, he adds, "And most of us have seen battles and war in our time."
Trandyr smiles sadly at the Shepard's words. "Ain't it the truth..." For a moment, he stands silent, as if unsure what to do. Finally, though, compassion wins out over uneasiness and he turns back to Wren. "Look, I can see you're troubled, girl. How 'bout you have a seat and I'll make you a cup of Hot Cocoa? I'm famous from here to Ariel for mine, and it might help soothe your nerves a bit."
Wren withdraws her hand from the pilot's grip, watching both him and Alabaster with fading wariness-- the pup that expected to be kicked and wasn't. "Truth is burning hot," she tells them both before nodding a little. "Cocoa... Is nice," she adds, hesitating a moment over the words as she takes the suggested seat.
Alabaster Smith smiles at Wren. "That's why Ah always handle the truth very carefully. It can keep you warm if used properly, or burn you if you're careless. But the truth is very important," he says agreeably. To Trandyr, "Just be sure to clean up after yourself. Ah've done mah share of cleaning for one day." He grins, to show he's not being too stern.
Trandyr nods at Alabaster's admonishment, then turns around and pulls out a pot and some ingredients. Filling it with water and powdered milk, he puts it on the boil then turns to the Preacher. "Ya gonna be joinin' us Sheppard, or ya hittin' tha hay?"
Curling up on the couch, Wren watches both Alabaster and Trandyr, chin nestled comfortably in the palm of one hand.
Alabaster Smith smiles. "For hot cocoa, Ah'm definitely staying, especially if it's anywhere as good as you claim it to be," he says with a chuckle.
Trandyr leans over and whispers to Alabaster, out of Wren's earshot. "Honestly, it ain't all that good. I just figured Wren needed some cheering up and, if her culinary experience is as charmingly odd as everything else about her, she wouldn't know the difference. I'll go ahead and make ya some, I just felt ya deserved fair warning." Turning, he smiles at Wren. "It'll be about four minutes, then you'll have the best Hot Cocoa in your life!" Turning around, he notices the "milk" boiling and stirs it, then pours in some ground chocolate powder.
Wren watches the arcane process of cocoa making, not seeming to take it amiss that there's whispering going on. "Four is good," she states in reply, smiling faintly.
Alabaster Smith grins at Trandyr. "Mah friend, Ah know some recipes for hot cocoa that would knock your socks off. Remind me, Ah'll demonstrate one of these days. But tonight, the show's all yours." He nods to Wren. "It -is- a nice number, isn't it?"
Slowly stirring the cocoa into the pot, Trandyr turns back towards Wren and smiles reassuringly. Like a parent to saddened child, he asks,"So how long have ya been sleepwalking, dear?"
Wren's eyes expand to the size of saucers at Alabaster's comment, and then she positively beams at him. "Peppermint," she agrees with a brilliant smile before her attention turns to Trandyr. Canting her head to the side she seems to consider the question for a long moment. "I don't know," she finally answers, biting the inside of her cheek and shaking her head.
Alabaster Smith settles into a chair, taking the opportunity to make himself comfortable and relax a little. He seems to be enjoying the company. "Peppermint, hm? Good to know," he says, mentally filing the information away.
When the milk and cocoa look completely mixed, Trandyr turns off the stove and pours it into three mugs. Walking over to the seating area, he hands one each to Wren, then to Alabaster. Finally, he walks back, grabs his own, and pulls up a chair. Flipping it around and straddling it, he warms his hands on the mug of cocoa and smiles at Wren. "Try it out, tell me what you think."
Taking the mug from Trandyr, Wren smiles at Alabaster again, nodding her head happily. She blows across the surface of the steaming liquid, being certain to cool it first before she takes a sip.
Alabaster Smith lets the cocoa sit for a moment, just breathing in the aroma, before he lifts it for a sip. He nods. "Not too bad," he comments thoughtfully. "Not too bad at all."
Wren sips the cocoa quietly, her eyes drifting around the common area from one thing to the next. It's a nice moment, all calm and peaceful with the soft whirring sounds of the ship a comforting white noise in the background.
Alabaster Smith sips his drink as well, either reluctant to disturb the companionable silence, or trying to find a relatively safe line of conversation to pursue. Finally, he asks Wren, "So then, how's your hydroponics setup looking?"
That draws another smile from Wren. "Got all the parts I need, just need a space to put'em in," she responds. "Won't fit through my door, or I'd keep it in there," she notes, frowning a little. "Could put it in here," she says, glancing around the room again and nibbling at her lower lip, "but might get in the way..."
Alabaster Smith grins at Wren. "Excellent," he says. "Ah'm glad to hear you have what you need. We'll find you the perfect space for your work."
Smiling, Trandyr takes another sip from his cocoa and looks questioningly at Wren. "So, how did you become a Hydroponics Engineer?"
"Doesn' hafta be perfect, just anywhere I can get the space, so I won't be in the way," Wren replies, taking another long sip of the cocoa. Turning her head toward the pilot she gives the briefest possible answer, "School."
Alabaster Smith yawns, trying to hide it behind a hand. "Mah apologies, friends, but Ah've had a long day, and really must be getting some rest. Ah'm going to have to bid you all good night."
Trandyr turns towards Alabaster and nods. "Enjoy the night, Shepard. Oh, and if you see the Cap'n 'fore I do, wouldja mind askin' when we're gettin' our arses off this damned rock? I'm itchin' for the Black."
Wren cants her head to the side, watching the Preacher as he tries to hide his yawning. "G'night," she tells him, an earnest wish of a common phrase. Staring at Trandyr she frowns at him. "Why'd that make you itch?" she wonders.
Alabaster Smith nods to Trandyr. "Will do," he says cheerfully. He takes his empty mug to the sink and washes it out, before heading for his quarters. "Try and stay out of trouble, all."
Trandyr grins and turns back towards you. "It doesn't make me physically itch...nearly so, though. I've just spend so much of my life out in the Black, that being too long on land makes me uncomfortable. That's all I mean. Kinda like how you seem most comfortable around your plants?"
Wren frowns a little at this, puzzling it out slowly. "Plants are quiet," she tells the pilot, vaguely watching Alabaster as he rinses his mug and then departs. "No surprises, no itching-- 'less they're poison," she amends thoughtfully. "Black is ice smooth and cold," she continues with a nod, as if this makes some sense to her.
Trandyr chuckles and nods. "True, it is cold in the Black. But there's freedom out there. There's no one can hurt you if you just keep your wits about you and plan ahead. Not like dirtside, where there's governments and criminals at every turn, trying to take what's yours. In the Black, all you gotta fear is your own crew, and not even that if you pick the RIGHT crew. In the Black, a man can sleep sound and feel at home. At least, that's true for this man..." Trailing off, he stares back into his mug.
Leaning her head back against the couch, Wren listens to the pilot, letting his words roll over her as her eyes gradually stay closed longer and longer between blinks. Until finally they simply remain shut, sleep claiming her completely.
Trandyr watches the engineer slowly falling off to sleep and laughs a bit under his breath. Sitting down the horrible mug of hot cocoa, he picks up her and begins carrying her to her quarters, an ingenious idea forming in his head to keep her locked up for the night.
Wren never even stirs, the events of the last few days and her own natural inclination to avoid sleeping just as long as possible making her one very tired hydroponics engineer.
Making his way to her quarters, he lays her down on her bed, tucking her in, then, running back down to the Cargo Bay and grabbing an old fashioned combination lock. Quickly flipping through the dials on the lock to clear it, he attaches it to the inside of the door and writes out a detailed note involving several mathematical sums and divisors. Once she's awake, she should be able to solve it with little trouble, yielding the combination. Finally satisfied, he quietly makes inventive use of his repair skills and unattaches the air duct. Crawling inside, he reattaches it and makes his way to his own quarters, where he promptly falls sound asleep.
