JP - Cmdr. Geoffrey Teller & Lt. Robin Hopper: The Slipstream Cantina (Part 1)
Robin Hopper
((Long Range Transport CN-2115 - En-Route to the Alpha Quadrant - Teller’s Quarters))
Geoff was pacing again. He’d managed to go a full eight minutes since the last time he’d bounced up off the uncomfortable chair in his stateroom, which was a significant improvement over his previous efforts, but the simple fact of the matter was he was equal parts bored and nervous. Since returning to Amity and finding himself a man out of time he’d focused on working with Starfleet and trying to get his life back in order. He’d kept himself busy...to the point where he hadn’t even slept much...largely in an attempt to stop himself from doing what he was being forced to do right now.
Think.
He’d tried reading. He’d tried meditation. He’d tried counselors on the station and time in the holodeck and even a Ferengi psychic that one especially caustic member of Amity’s crew had recommended, but none of it had stilled the deep discomfort he had carried with him since returning to a world that was, and wasn’t, quite his own. Now trapped on the long journey back to the Alpha Quadrant, he had nothing left but time to think and consider his future.
He needed a drink.
Grabbing his new uniform jacket, which was one of the thousand small changes he was forced to deal with since stepping back into the ‘present,’ Geoff left his stateroom and made his way to the small crew lounge on the transport. Hopefully he’d find something distracting there and, failing that, something alcoholic enough to knock him out for a few hours. Either option sounded equally unappealing but in the absence of a better idea, Geoff went searching for distraction.
((Long Range Transport CN-2115 - Hopper’s Quarters))
Robin stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her uniform. It hadn’t been that long, she felt, since she had stepped off a transport headed to Amity Outpost – and the time since then had been tumultuous (to say the least!) In only a few months, she had already been stranded on a planet filled with killer drones, shifted into an alternate timeline, and gone on more dates than she could count – with minimal success.
Not wanting to start the new year ‘on the wrong foot’, she had decided to accept an invitation to participate in an activity that promised to be more fun than work (though it remained official Starfleet business). With the turn of the century, Starfleet would soon begin rolling out their new uniform designs, and a number of conferences were being held throughout the Alpha and Beta Quadrants for Officers to see the new designs prior to launch. A lifelong devotee of retro fashions, Robin had been following Starfleet’s uniform trends since she was a girl and, while her favourite era (the late 2250s) had yet to be topped, she had high hopes for 2400.
The current skant design featured a concealed zipper up the side, beginning just above the hip, making it far easier to don the uniform than the jacket and trouser option bafflingly considered the ‘standard’. As someone with a prosthetic leg, she’d always preferred dresses and skirts to pants, and the skant had been an obvious choice ever since her Academy graduation. The late 2250s, however, had featured a full-length zip up the front of the uniform. oO Imagine the freedom… Oo Needless to say, her fingers were crossed for a return to that (at least in her mind) ideal form.
There was one other reason she had opted to make the 6-week round trip to the Beta Quadrant. Loneliness. With most of the closest friends she had made aboard Amity currently on a special support mission on Betazed, she found her evenings uncharacteristically empty. What good was having an apartment with a conversation pit if, night after night, you were the only one there?
A few disquieting nights, with only her thoughts for company, had been more than enough motivation to ‘shake things up’ and take the impromptu trip. There had been only one transport available that would pass through her intended destination, and this was it. She hoped the journey would be worth the weeks spent in the claustrophobic little ship. And it would be, so long as it reached The Gorkon.
The USS Gorkon, currently patrolling the Tyrellian Sector, was home to one of her favourite people – a close friend from her Academy days, Lt. Commander Alieth… Best of all, the Vulcan Chief Medical Officer had no idea that Robin was going to suddenly drop into her neighborhood.
Now the only question was how best to pass the time between the Barossa Nebula and the Tyrellian Sector… Three weeks of travel at Quantum Slipstream speeds… and none of the creature comforts of ‘home’...
((Crew Lounge, Deck 9))
As a transport that mostly moved cargo and occasionally moved people, the furnishings and decoration in the crew lounge were, at best, meager. So was the selection. A spartan cabinet that someone had ironically labeled ‘wet bar’ held five bottles, half of which were empty and several of which had mis-matched tops or stoppers. The only full bottle was obscured in the back of the cabinet, was unlabeled and smelled like a combination of melted composite and regret. Geoff filled the largest glass he could find with its bright blue contents and made his way to one of the small metal tables just as another Starfleet officer walked in. Geoff hadn’t been looking for company but still raised his glass in greeting.
Teller: The ‘bar’ is over there ::He nodded towards the cabinet:: but I think the barkeep is off duty.
Robin let out a small yelp, surprised at the sound of a human voice. The crew of the transport had evidently sought to make this glorified storage room feel more like a lounge by dimming the lights, and her eyes had not yet adjusted to the room.
Hopper: Umm, who said that?
Looking around, she caught sight of what appeared to be the source of the noise: a pile of rags with a broom stuck in it, propped in the corner. But, as she took a few steps closer, she realized it was, in fact, a Starfleet Commander – in uniform – and not one who she recognized.
Hopper: ::Stiffening slightly:: Oh! Pardon me, Sir. I didn’t see you.
She felt her cheeks redden slightly as she tucked her hands behind her back. Amity had recently been developing a bit of a reputation for its relaxed military decorum. Captain Rahman, of the USS Kitty Hawk in particular, had found some of the junior officer’s creative use of language disagreeable – and there had been several ‘incidents’ on Betazed. Suffice to say, as a Department Chief, she was wary of adding to the perception that Amity’s officers were undisciplined.
Geoff’s eyes watered as he swallowed a gulp of the radiant blue concoction.
Teller: At ease, Lieutenant. Both of us are very definitely off duty. ::He leaned back into the uncomfortable bench and gestured at himself:: Geoff Teller. You’re part of the detachment on Amity, right? Harper? Hops?
Robin relaxed, somewhat. oO Teller… That name rings a bell. Oo
Hopper: Yes, Sir. Hopper. But you can call me Robin – if that’s not too familiar. I’m Amity’s Chief Science Officer.
Teller: Right sorry. ::He gestured towards an empty seat across the table:: What brings you to the worst bar on the ship?
She made her way towards the nondescript liquor cabinet Teller had indicated.
Hopper: It’s the only bar on the ship… ::Opening the cabinet:: God, I think I’m getting drunk just looking at this… ::Holding up the blue bottle:: Is this glowing? Are you drinking this?
Geoff nodded to his mug with a scowl.
Teller: I’m trying but this stuff ain’t making it easy.
Hopper: I think this might be reactor coolant.
He glanced down, shrugged, and took another glug.
Teller: Pfft…low quality reactor coolant, maybe. Fortunately, I’m not picky at the moment.
Hopper: ::Pause, shrug:: If you say so.
She poured herself a glass, making a face as the liquid ‘hissed’ on contact with the vessel, before returning it to the cabinet and shutting it. Inwardly, she wondered if it was lead-lined. Glass in hand, she took the proffered seat across from the Commander. She couldn’t be sure if her eyes were finally adjusting to the dim atmosphere, or if the combined light radiating off their drinks was sufficiently illuminating, but she could now make out the man’s features better. oO The man from Wil’s party! Oo Her eyes widened.
Hopper: TELLER! Geoff Teller. Of course! ::Excitedly:: You’re the one they brought back from the TIC ship. ::Remembering the circumstances:: Oh. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound so excited about that. It was a harrowing experience, I’m sure.
Geoff chuckled at the young officer's buoyant enthusiasm but offered a shrug about the experience itself.
Teller: As I’m frequently reminded, a life in Starfleet is a weird one. Although I have to admit, taking a guided tour through several of the worst moments of my life only to get spit out a year from when I started is a new one on me. ::He raised his mug in mocking toast:: To the idiot who invented time travel…I hope they accidentally fall in love with their own grandmother. Slàinte!
As he spoke, she slowly brought the glass of ‘blooze’ towards her lips.
Hopper: You’re back at it, now, though? ::Pointing at his uniform:: Back to work, I mean. In the Alpha Quadrant? ::Taking a sip, making a face, then cursing in Centauran:: Gaitego! ::Cough:: I take it back. This is worse than reactor coolant.
Geoff glanced at his rapidly emptying cup and wondered about the innocuous question.
Teller: That’s a bit complicated, like everything in my life right now. See, when I went on leave a few weeks ago I was First Officer on the Thor - the ship that brought most of Amity’s command crew out to the Delta Quadrant in the first place. I had planned on taking a little while off to recharge my batteries but now, the Thor’s gone and the crew has transferred to a new ship with a new CO. The…Omnomnom or something, I don’t know. Part of the reason I’m heading back to Earth is a whole set of meetings and debriefings with Starfleet Command. Guess that puts me…between assignments at the moment. ::He drained the last of his drink with a grimace:: I’ve never actually been between assignments before. Bit of an odd feeling, to be honest. How about you?
Hopper: ::Shaking her head:: I’m taking a little time off, just to get my bearings. Seeing firsthand how ‘easy’ it was for someone from the future to completely change the fabric of our reality… ::trailing off:: Let’s just say I’m still looking over my shoulder. ::A pause to think:: Not that that would do anything.
She took another trepidatious sip of the blue stuff, then stared into the glass for a moment.
Hopper: You know, I think the first sip melted off my tastebuds. The second? Not so bad. ::Back to Teller:: You said “part of the reason” was for debriefings. So, what’s the rest of the story?
Teller: The other part? Well...for that I think I’ll need more reactor coolant. You need a top up?
Hopper: No. But I’ll take one anyways.
She shrugged with a cheery sort of apathy.
Hopper: What else is there to do? ::Small smile::
Teller: Suit yourself, I don’t think the selection is going to get any better unless we set up a still.
TBC
Commander Geoffrey Teller
Reactor Coolant Inspection Specialist
V239509GT0
Lieutenant Robin Hopper
Chief ‘Blooze’ Taste Tester
V239806K11