Ensign Juliet Banks: Ice Cream and Introspection
Juliet Banks
((Juliet’s Quarters, Room 142, Deck 14, USS Khitomer, docked at DS33))
Juliet quietly slipped inside her quarters, exhaling as the door slid closed behind her. She stood for a moment, enjoying the silence – more than that, the peace – as she rolled her neck and stretched, trying to force her muscles to relax. Tricorder and PADD onto the desk. Foil-lined bag next to them. Boots off. Butt into desk chair. Relax.
Banks: Computer, play Rodrigo’s Concierto de Aranjuez. The Paco de Lucia version, if you have it.
She tipped her head back against the backrest as the first guitar notes sounded, and caught sight of the lit indicator on her terminal that signalled a saved message. Ugh. Peter’s message. She’d gone to lunch to escape his emotions and wound up surrounded by other people’s instead.
This music was much too jaunty and vigorous for her energy levels. She tapped her desk console’s interface to switch to the Concierto’s second movement, and blew out a long breath.
oO May as well get it over with. But first… Oo
Banks: Computer, replicate one long-handled parfait spoon.
The sparkling sound of the replicator indicated her spoon’s appearance, and Juliet collected it, snagged the foil-lined bag from her desk, and flopped onto the couch. She wrestled with the bag for a moment before it yielded its spoils: a small tub of lingonberry gelato and a pouch of custard for topping.
She savoured the first mouthful, letting the solemn music soothe her jangled nerves, and just listened for few minutes. Unbidden, her mind drifted back to the people she had met at lunch today; an unexpected gathering, but she had appreciated the invitation. She hadn’t realised, when Lera had invited her, the tensions and sadness many of the Khitomer’s crew seemed to be carrying.
Even then, though, there had been moments of sweetness, and of levity.
((Flashback – Mellow Mushroom, earlier that day))
Lera had just finished her explanation of what had happened in the Lagoon Nebula while the Khitomer was disabled, and they’d all raised their glasses in a toast. And then Richard Matthews, of all people, had surprised her with the sentiment of his toast.
R Matthews: And to the continued good times with good people. Everyone, please try not to die. It’ll put a damper on these get-togethers.
Juliet had found herself smiling unexpectedly… he wasn’t wrong.
Zerva: I’m what they call in security a “red shirt.” I’ll try my best.
C Matthews: ::chuckles:: I died once. I don’t recommend it.
Michaels: I strenuously recommend against dying... and against having too much sucrose and driving.
Banks: No dying, got it.
R Matthews: Let’s also end off this night on a happier note, no more talking about what could have beens and worst case scenarios, yeah? Let’s focus on the fact that we’re all safe and sound here now.
She had been glad he’d said it; it was good to hear, she had thought, and as someone who’d only been a minor participant in what they’d all gone through, it would have sounded awful coming from her.
Zerva: ::raising his tea cup again, even though it was empty.:: Here, here.
C Matthews: ::looks at his empty glass longingly::
Banks: Hear, hear. And let’s keep it that way as long as we can.
Michaels: Hear, hear.
As though by unspoken agreement, the conversation had moved from there to lighter, happier matters. Juliet had felt she had little to contribute, without any shared history, but had dug deep into the well of small talk to carry her through. Eventually, though, everyone had flagged, and people made their farewells.
Zerva: ::pulling out his chair and standing up:: I had a good time with you all. Thank you for joining myself and Lera. We’ll have to make a point to do this again on the next shore leave.
C Matthews: I think I’m going to… ::hiccups:: …excuse myself as well.
Banks: Yes, I think I’m about done as well. ::to Lera:: Thank you very much for the invitation - ::to the group:: and thank you all for the welcome. It was a pleasure meeting you all.
Zerva: ::waves goodbye and winks at Richard:: Next time you can pick the restaurant.
Michaels: Are you all right, Charles?
C Matthews: I’m just …return to the ship. ::gestures:: I’ll see you all around.
Banks: I think I’m off to do a bit of browsing through the shops here before I head back to the ship. I hear there’s a good place to buy ice-cream…
((End of Flashback))
And indeed that was what she had done, wending her way out through the chaotic fungus décor and into the station’s concourse, although her energy dwindled rapidly once she was left to her own devices.
And now here she was, eating gelato and still avoiding her brother’s message. Enough.
Banks: C’mpu’er, pway thaved meth-
She swallowed her mouthful of gelato and tried again.
Banks: Computer, play saved message from Peter Banks, from pause minus fifteen seconds.
The screen flickered to life, showing Peter lounging in his seat in his disastrously messy cadet quarters.
Peter: …I sometimes think one of us should have gone into stellar cartography. You know, for Ollie. Still… I couldn’t deprive Engineering of my brilliance, and I’m not sure you can even spell ‘cartography’, so we’re better off where we are… right?
There was a beat as though he was waiting for her to answer, before he remembered it wasn’t a live call, and continued as though he’d meant the pause in wise introspection. (Juliet knew better.)
Peter: So, I have a bit of good news of my own. I got an academic commendation for one of my project designs, a set of upgrades for the type nine multi-function PADDs. It’s only an iterative upgrade, not evolutionary, but I’m pretty happy with it regardless. I’ll forward you the schematics in case you want to replicate a few.
An academic commendation! Not that she was surprised; her little brother had turned out to have a real gift for engineering, and if Mum could be believed he was the darling of his instructors. Well, good for him. It did chafe that he got his academic commendation a year earlier than she got hers, but she just… wasn’t going to point that out. To him or anyone else.
Peter: Aaaaanyway, I’m going to be late for Probability and Statistics if I don’t-
-he clearly saw the time, because onscreen he sprung into a mad whirl of activity, cramming PADDs into a satchel and running a hand through his disastrous hair-
Peter: -invent time travel and leave five minutes ago, gotta go, love you, bye, computer end recording and send-
The recording cut out, replaced a moment later with the standard Starfleet insignia screen, and Juliet found herself laughing despite herself. Trust Peter to put a smile on her face even when she wanted to strangle him a little bit. Still laughing, she licked the smears of gelato off her spoon and straightened herself on her couch.
Banks: Computer, begin pre-recorded subspace message for Academy Cadet Peter Banks, routing details as per my personal records.
Computer: ::beep::
Banks: Hi, Pete. I’m sorry I didn’t answer when you called earlier; I was asleep at the time, after getting out of Sickbay. No, don’t worry, I’m fine, it was just a check-up for safety after we got a bit banged up getting out of a situation.
Okay, so it was a little bit of a lie, but she wasn’t calling to worry him.
Banks: And no, I probably can’t tell you what the situation was. I haven’t actually been read into our current mission so I don’t know all the details, but I do know at least some of it is classified and I’m going to err on the side of caution.
Absent-mindedly she scooped up another spoonful of the sweet-sour gelato and dipped it into the custard as she spoke, waving the spoon around as emphasis as she spoke. She thought about his stellar cartography comment, and- the words just came out.
Banks: I’m going to say the hard thing now and get it out of the way: stop thinking about doing this – any of this – for Ollie. We won’t ever forget him, I’m not saying that, but… if you’re coming out here, you’ve got to be doing it because you want to. Yeah, yeah, I know I’ve only done a cadet cruise and I’m still in my first week as an officer, but if you haven’t figured it out by the time you put your first pip on your collar, you’re going to have a really bad time.
Her eyes flicked away from the camera; even the facsimile of eye contact felt too hard.
Banks: The Academy is maybe the best training program that’s ever existed, and at the same time, being out here… well, I wasn’t prepared. Maybe you will be, maybe it was just me. I don’t know.
She didn’t know how to say things like “when it’s your first week and someone died and you didn’t realise how close you came to dying too” and “the guy next door is grieving a missing limb and nobody knows how to help him and everybody feels a little bit lost”.
She didn’t know how to say “you’d better figure out why you’re coming out here, because if you die for something you didn’t even care about, I’ll never forgive you.”
She dredged up a smile from somewhere – maybe rueful, but still genuine.
Banks: The thing that’s giving me hope right now is that everyone else out here… they’re just people like you and me. They’re smart, capable, amazingly well trained and terrifyingly competent. But they’re just people, they’re not up on pedestals any more, I guess. And if they can do it, well, we can figure out how to do it too.
She held up her mostly-empty Warp Stone Creamery tub and waggled it at the camera.
Banks: Anyway. I’m going to go and finish my lingonberry gelato before it melts completely. Thank you for the PADD schematics. And don’t invent time travel, I know you’ve had the lecture about the DTI, same as the rest of us. Give my love to Mum and Dad if you talk to them before I do, and don’t be a stranger. ::a beat:: Love you, Pete.
Banks: Computer, end recording.
No Tags/End Scene
Ensign Juliet Banks
HCO Officer
USS Khitomer
K240206JB1