[JP] RAdm. Reynolds, LtCmdrs Neathler and Marshall - Goodness Gracious Eight Balls of Fire (Part III)
Samira Neathler
((Sto’Vo’Kor, Crew Lounge, Deck 9))
With a smile, Samira listened to the friendly banter between her superior officers. She took a few steps back with the idea to hop on to the next pool table, but decided against it. She had done that once, which resulted in a tear in the table’s green velvet. She had never forgotten the mouth off she had received from the owner of the table. Even while the proprietor was… a holographic one. Until this day, she wasn’t sure if it all hadn’t been a prank coming from one of her brothers.
When the steward arrived, the temptation to order a glass of champagne in order to celebrate was high, but she ended up requesting a glass of whiskey. She had too many questions to rejoice, hardly knowing what the job entailed. But looking at the current setting, she didn’t want to fire all her questions either. After everything, both the Admiral and Jo had experienced on Trueno, they needed a break.
Neathler: Next to pool and springball, are there other activities I should… ::She paused briefly.:: train?
Quinn gave the question some thought and sipped from her bottle of root beer. Images of motorbikes and solar-powered ships came to mind, but she didn't want to force every hobby of theirs onto the brunette. Another idea popped into her head, something they'd never managed to organise with Genkos.
Reynolds: No. ::She raised her eyebrows with a small grin.:: But you do have to bring one of yours to the table.
Samira chuckled at the response. One of her gloved hands ruffled her short hair for a moment, seeing the steward approaching them with their drinks. She waited until he arrived and took her glass. Swirling the golden liquid before she took a sniff. Somewhat disappointed, she looked in the bar's direction. No Klingon bartender to be seen, otherwise she would be drinking the genuine stuff instead of the synthoholic version. With a deep breath, she took a sip. Guess it would have to do.
Neathler: Well, there’s the sparring in the gym.
Although knowing she hardly saw the Admiral in there, she figured it might not be something for the hybrid to do. Or maybe the Admiral visited the gym at different hours than Samira did. She took a step back, leaning against the pool table behind her, placing the glass on the edge.
Neathler: And I finally managed to set up the holodeck version of the Giáng Sinh Biathlon. I’d like to cut a few more seconds of my time before I send the program to my brothers so we can compete our times. ::Smiling, she raised an eyebrow.:: I’m sure they wouldn’t mind some extra competition.
It had almost taken her a year to get the last touches to the program as she wanted it to be perfect. For some odd reason, she still didn’t understand herself, she was spending more time in her quarters now she had Ko. If only… now why didn’t she think of that, next time she should take the critter with her to the holodeck. And choosing a warmer setting for the next challenge would make it perfect.
Jo grinned at that, taking a long drink from the newly replicated beer bottle in hand, and pointed around it at Quinn across the pool table from her. A flash in blue eyes appeared, the quick quirk of an eyebrow, amusement clear on the blonde’s features. An oft topic of debate, usually over some form of pastry in their meetings. Sometimes cake. Not a trace of guilt in there, but “if you can outrun a dinosaur, you can do laps of the ship” had come out of her mouth recently.
Marshall: Funny you should mention that, Sami. I’ve been trying to get Quinn into the gym for a long while now. Maybe not sparring but running, lifting, doing things that move the body out of the “sat down behind the desk in the Ready Room” position.
Quinn breathed out a sigh, lifting an open palm. Dismay and question, all in one sweep of the hand. It was a return to a familiar battleground — and not one she could so easily dominate as the pool table in front of them.
Reynolds: Did Walter put you up to this?
Samira chuckled while Jo took a swig from her bottle, glancing sideways to the Captain with added mirth.
Walter, the blond captain of the USS Triumphant. The ship that had come to the Gorkon’s rescue a couple of times already, and maybe even more, in the time before she was part of the Gorkon crew. Samira didn’t know the man, only having seen him at the Admiral’s wedding. Other than that, he was somewhat of a mystery. At least in this universe. There was a dream version of the man she knew better, she respected even.
Neathler: If you’re looking for competition, we could set up something for you. Just between the three of us. ::She paused briefly, a twinkle in her eyes showing.:: Or you could make it a family outing, sir. Mister Walter included.
Reynolds: Hell, no. ::Few things were more dry than her voice at that moment. Vulcan deserts, perhaps, but even then there was no clear victor.:: He might be my husband, but there are limits.
The blonde’s laughter bubbled up at the immediate and unrelenting response front he Admiral, letting loose the well-cultured decorum usually on display. This was the Quinn she knew; genius, adrenaline-junky, and swore like a Livernois Shipyard docker.
Marshall: In that case, here’s to the first meeting of the new and improved Pool Club.
With a fresh round of drinks supplied and dished out, Jo offered her beer bottle to the centre of the pool table and, with a cheeky grin bearing on her features, arched her eyebrow. With a more demure grin — but a grin nonetheless — Quinn inclined her head and looked toward Sami, her expression saying "wait for it".
Marshall: Though, what do we call it? Eight Balls Of Fire? Triple Threat?
Reynolds: The Triple Threat Pool Club. I like it.
Samira took a few steps closer, raising her glass like the others did with their drink. The anticipation on Quinn’s features made Samira realize how these two women knew each other through and through, making her feel like a little intruder.
Neathler: Triple Threat Pool Club, it is.
Although she had no idea what kind of threat she was posing herself. Her eyes shifted to both of them, two people she looked up to and would have to work with closely from now on and get to know them in the process. It was only now Samira realized she had agreed to a huge task. If something happened to one of them, she would have to step up. Hopefully, that day would never come.
Her gaze went to the current game. She should look at the situation from a different angle. Isn’t the best way to know the enemy, by learning how they worked and thought? In this case, playing a game of pool and then work out a strategy to defeat them? Translated getting to know them better? Which was probably both their plan from the beginning. Yep, she was going to conquer this little quest.
Neathler: Care to show the youngest of the Club how it’s done, s… Quinn? ::She winked at Jo, who chuckled right back.:: We’ll need to work out some strategy later on.
Reynolds: I hope you're going to be this enthusiastic about helping me beat her at springball tomorrow.
With an impish flicker of a grin, and a worried side look from her XO, she walked around the table to find her shot. A crack of cue against hard resin and the cue ball went zooming across the table, bouncing from cushion to cushion and smacking into other balls, spending them spinning in a perfectly choreographed, showy and totally unnecessary trick shot.
Reynolds: Until then, a masterclass it is.
fin
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Rear Admiral Quinn Reynolds
Commanding Officer
USS Gorkon
T238401QR0
&
Lieutenant Commander Samira Neathler
Chief of Security & Tactical
Second Officer
USS Gorkon
G239508SN0
&
Lt. Commander Jo Marshall
First Officer
USS Gorkon, NCC-82293
G239304JM0