Lt. JG Natasha Cole - Christmas Eve, Deck by Deck
Natasha Schell
(( Decks 2–5, USS Artemis-A | Christmas Eve ))
((OOC: Merry Christmas to all who celebrate, and Happy Holidays to those that observe other celebrations.))
Natasha moved through the corridors of the Artemis with a PADD tucked under one arm and a satchel slung across her shoulder, its contents carefully wrapped and labeled. The ship felt different tonight, a kind of Magic, lights dimmed just a fraction warmer, the hum of the engines softened as if even they understood the importance of rest. Most of the crew was off duty, tucked into quarters or gathered in small, informal pockets of celebration.
She preferred this part, the quiet and unobserved calm of it all.
Stopping outside the first door, she checked the name once more before setting the package down gently, aligning it with the seam in the deck plating. She attached a small tag, handwritten.
It was for Captain MacKenzie. Inside was a Hasperat cooking experience, complete with a Bajoran chef’s guidance and optional chaos. Natasha paused, considering whether to ring the chime. She decided against it.
You carry command like a weight, she thought. This is something that asks nothing of you but your hands.
She left the tag clipped neatly to the box:
“For a night where no one is waiting on your decision. ~ Lt Jg Cole”
She moved on before doubt could creep in. Moving across Deck 2, to her second destination outside Commander Munro’s quarters. This one was a vintage star map of Earth’s constellations as seen from Luna, mounted and sealed. Natasha hesitated longer here. Ava understood quite better than most. The map felt… right.
Some people lead by watching patterns instead of forcing them, Natasha reflected. She’ll understand this.
The tag was simple:
“Perspective matters. Merry Christmas. . ~ Lt Jg Cole”
Moving on to Deck 3 she stopped outside Lieutenant Commander Jovenan’s quarters. This was one that was a bit of a challenge, but she found a beautifully machined glass buret, mounted on a stand. Natasha allowed herself a small smile as she placed it outside the Chief Science Officer’s door.
Controlled release, she thought. Precision. Patience. She imagined Jovenan noticing the craftsmanship first, then the symbolism later.
The tag read:
“For careful measures and intentional moments. . ~ Lt Jg Cole”
She found herself outside Lieutenant K’Wara’s quarters. This one was interesting, because she first met them at the academy as an instructor. Natasha placed the small package squarely, aligning it with military precision. Inside was a Lunar pressure-stress coin, heavy and cool to the touch.
Strength doesn’t always announce itself, she thought. Sometimes it just endures.
The tag was minimal:
“For steady hands and steady judgment. . ~ Lt Jg Cole”
She made her way to Lieutenant Storm next. Natasha paused before setting the gift down, smoothing the edge of the envelope with her thumb. Inside was a voucher for a private spa experience, customizable treatments, mirrored lighting, and sensory attunement options designed to celebrate the body rather than mute it.
You carry so much of the world in your mind, she thought. This is about letting your body take up space. Letting yourself be seen—even by yourself.
She imagined Alex choosing textures, scents, and warmth. Choosing how to exist in her own skin without apology or performance.
The tag was handwritten, the ink looping just a little softer than usual:
“For softness without compromise. You deserve to feel beautiful on your own terms. . ~ Natasha”
Next up was Charlotte Brexis. Though they had only recently met, she was sure this was the kind of friendship that would likely get them both a bit of a reputation. What kind was yet to be determined. Inside the small box was a mini detonator-shaped fidget toy, harmless, satisfying, impossible to resist clicking. Natasha set it down with a little more care than necessary.
You live in the space between tension and release, she thought. This lets you hold that without burning yourself.
She clipped the tag on, her smile a bit mischievous..
The tag read:
“Safe to click. Unsafe to underestimate. ~ Natasha”
She didn’t linger as she had several more stops before her night was done. She stopped at Ollie Bergmen’s quarters. She imagined Ollie was still up working on PADDwork, but she was extra quiet so as to not disturb him.
Inside the box was a small flask engraved with Adapt. Improvise. Survive.
Someone has to think three steps ahead, she mused. You do it so no one else has to.
The tag:
“Plan G, just in case. . ~ Lt Jg Cole”
Imril was next, but his gift was something special that she was sure they’d appreciate. A physical, dog-eared shuttle maintenance manual from an old Lunar craft. Natasha smiled as she set it down.
You and I both learned to define ourselves by function before anything else, she thought.
The tag was handwritten more carefully than most.
“Because sometimes paper is better. —Nat”
She found herself outside Roy Bancroft’s quarters. Natasha lingered here the longest. The two of them have an interesting dynamic from their first away mission to their standing holodeck misadventures. She pulled out a simple handwritten recipe card, for Aunt Rea’s cherry pastries, partnered with a bottle or Terren bourbon.
We didn’t get the parents we deserved, she thought. But we can still choose warmth.
She tucked the tag beneath the bottle’s neck.
“Found family counts. Use generously. ~ Nat”
She stood there for a moment before moving on.
Next she stopped at someone’s quarters she was quite familiar with, Samantha Richards. Natasha smiled softly as she arranged the items. Most of it was Baby supplies, yes, but also a private voucher: Natasha Cole, Babysitter. No excuses. No guilt.
Strength doesn’t mean doing everything alone, she thought. It means letting someone help.
The tag was folded carefully.
“You rest. I’ve got this. ~ Nat”
And lastly was Ensign Jira. This one was tricky because their interactions had been quite limited … for now. However after their brief chat during the Ferengi culture lecture Ollie had put together. She had gotten an idea. She set the slim package down, inside was a PADD loaded with historic Federation diplomatic failures and adaptive strategy notes.
There’s wisdom in understanding where things went wrong, she thought. You’ll appreciate that.
The tag read:
“Sometimes our best lessons come from failure . ~ Lt Jg Cole”
With the last delivery made, Natasha found herself back in her own corridor, the satchel now empty and lighter than it had been all evening. She leaned briefly against the bulkhead, closing her eyes.
No
speeches.
No expectations.
Just small, deliberate kindnesses.
That was how she preferred it.
Straightening, she adjusted the strap on her shoulder, out of habit, and headed back toward her quarters, leaving behind quiet surprises and space for replies she didn’t need to hear to feel complete.
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Lt. JG Natasha Cole
Security Officer
USS Artemis-A
Writer ID A240205NC4