[sb118-gorkon] Ensign Ethan Espinoza - Off To The Races
Ethan Espinoza
((Primary Sickbay, USS Gorkon))
Spelvan: As long as you handle the barfights.
Espinoza: How about you? You got any family comin’ along to catch up?
Spelvan: Yes, in fact. My brother and brother-in-law are arriving in a few days.
Ethan bounced his head in quiet agreement. He turned the thought over for a moment, wondering, not for the first time, whether he ought to have set his pettiness and spite aside and sought out similar arrangements for himself. With his brother, if not either of his parents. It was the sort of relief people sought after the mission they’d been through; they turned towards family and found particular comfort in their nearest and dearest. Many people would find solace amongst them. Ethan wasn’t so sure he would, nor whether that said more about his family or him.
It felt considerably more comfortable to embed himself in the company of strangers than to return to that particular gauntlet of judgment and snide remarks.
Espinoza: Nice to hear you got some support out there. Your brother much like you? Did he enlist too?
Spelvan: My brother is... very different from me. But we care for each other deeply.
Espinoza: Not always a bad thing. My brother ‘n I are a little too similar in most things. It’s the differences in opinion about things that usually cause fights. And the fact he's got a slightly bigger mouth than me.
The two strode through the winding maze of corridors together, falling into idle chit-chat with an ease that surprised him more than he'd expected. It felt natural enough, which was odd, given that he'd quietly dreaded his capacity to find any meaningful common ground with a Vulcan. So far, though, Spelvan was, in his estimation, alright.
Spelvan: I would like to return to my quarters briefly to change into something more appropriate. I will meet you at Transporter Room Three in fifteen minutes?
Ethan nodded, and the two parted ways. He’d be glad to be out of uniform again.
(( Transporter Room 3, USS Gorkon ))
The trip back to his quarters had been all business. His console had winked at him for the duration of his visit, each little notification a quiet reminder of several ignored messages. They'd remain unread for some time yet, he decided. He was almost certain he didn't have the mental capacity to deal with them. Certainly not today, and probably not tomorrow, either.
Ethan had opted for his usual: jogging bottoms, a pair of white sneakers, and a comfortable, oversized hoodie that he'd felt was necessary at the kind of altitudes the cityscape below boasted. He rounded into the transporter room and then drew up short, because Spelvan's choice of clothing gave him pause. His choice of clothing startled him. It was far more human than he'd anticipated.
Spelvan: Greetings... may I call you Ethan now, as we are out of a professional capacity? Are you ready to depart?
Espinoza: Better than some of the names I’ve been called outside of a professional capacity. Whatever floats your boat, doc. I’m ready if you are.
Spelvan: Response
Ethan offered a nod and clambered up onto the transporter platform, positioning himself atop one of the several circular pads. He tossed a nod to the transporter chief, who was already moving through the choreography of calibration. He'd spent the best part of his life transporting from Shuttle to Starbase, and it had never once gotten easier. There was still, reliably, a nervous twist in his gut every single time. He really, truly hated this part.
Espinoza: Bad time to mention I really, really hate big cities?
Spelvan: Response
Espinoza: Too many buildings. Too many people. Too many stalls tryna shill you questionable things. I get serious FOMO, too, ‘n end up gettin’ pressured into gettin’ a ton of crap I don’t need. Total nightmare. If anyone saw my room back home they’d think I made a sport out of hoardin’ useless garbage.
Spevan: Response
Ethan snorted, and then, as the transporter chief indicated their readiness, he tensed every muscle in his body simultaneously. The pads illuminated, casting their familiar radiant shimmer upward, and the beams found them both, separate columns of light that swallowed them whole, matter to energy, and then the surface rushed up to meet them, the sounds of urban chaos below spilling in all at once.