Lt. JG Lyra Voss: Or Else
Sarah Terry
((The Bottled Repose, Ashalla District, Starbase 118))
When Lyra thought back to where this evening had started, it seemed almost impossible that they should have ended up like this - A’Mayri absolutely tearing apart strangers at a card game she’d only just learned, and Evan and herself sitting side by side, his arm around her shoulder, leaning into each other with laughter and shy smiles. Well, but was she being shy? Not really. Not now. Not when she was having so much fun.
A’Mayri: Your confidence and well meaning assurance to your counterpart is admirable, but the doubt I see in your eyes and the hesitance I detect in the fluttering of your hands is counterproductive.
Lyra would have clapped if she hadn’t been holding her own set of cards - she could listen to A’Mayri insult people all night. The perceptiveness and specificity was deadly. All the Ferengi could do was glare and huff.
Voss: It’s not like I’m the one you have to worry about anyway.
A’Mayri: ::biting down on the peppermint stick with an openly pleased hum, Vulcan and Federation Standard mixed on her tongue:: Tor sadalaya uncontrolled ambition, ri tor mastevau svi' greed, acquainted veh.
(Do release uncontrolled ambition, don't drown in greed, acquainted one.)
The trimester Lyra had spent on Vulcan during her time at the Academy had given her a conversational grasp of the language, but she struggled to pull out the bits of Vulcan from Federation Standard, and she could tell Evan did too. He repeated her words under his breath.
Ross: ...let go of... release uncontrolled ambition? Don't swim... plant? In greed?
Voss: Mastevau… Submerge, maybe? Bury? Wait, how do you say “crushing defeat” in Vulcan? It’s jey écrasing in Klingon. ::the Klingon woman’s eyes narrowed, and Lyra playfully pointed at her:: But she already knew that.
The woman practically growled, but the sound was cut off by A’Mayri firmly rapping the table with her knuckles. That signaled the end of the round - now Lyra and the Ferengi each had the chance to exchange one more card and then they’d compare. He didn’t seem to be looking forward to the prospect.
Ferengi: I grow tired of hearing your knocking, Vulcan! ::small curse under his breath, using the last turn to swap another card.::
A’Mayri sat as still as a statue as the round continued. It was only the subtle glimmer in her eye (and the way she was chomping on that peppermint stick) that betrayed her enjoyment of the game.
A’Mayri: I look forward to the revealing of our hands. ::sharing a small and openly amused glance to Lyra and Evan.::
This was a great game. Snatch? Cat. Sketch. Whatever it was called. She’d play it again any time. As long as the company was the same. It got to her turn and Evan leaned in, gently plucking a card from her hand and exchanging it for another, completing her set of Js.
Voss: ::with a little gasp:: Three Joes!
Joes? Jacks? She was learning so many words tonight.
A’Mayri: Interesting indeed. King, Queen, 9. I do believe that is a total of…29? I could be mistaken. Please hold me accountable if I have miscounted. ::Looking to Lyras cards with a soft grin:: I am impressed with your hand as well friend. You and your mentor are quite formidable ::completely ignoring the fuming Ferengi::
Evan bowed his head in A’Mayri’s direction.
Ross: Thanks, Ma'am.
She leaned against him as she giggled brightly.
Voss: I think we make a pretty good team.
Apparently the Klingon woman was not pleased at the reminder that they’d turned the card game into a bit of a team sport. As the Ferengi angrily swiped his cards away, she jumped to her feet, scraping her chair across the floor and nearly putting lines in the hardwood. Evan took a sharp breath beside her, but before anyone else could move, A’Mayri suddenly shoved a small handful of latinum towards them and dragged the rest across the table and into the small box they’d started with. It was almost more than would fit in the container. The Ferengi seemed placated - the Klingon woman, not so much.
A’Mayri: Let us be off– ::plopping a few bars to many into a observing and slightly horrified bartenders hands::
Ross: Right. Let's go.
Lyra viewed the action around her with the detachment of someone who was just a little too drunk to recognize the situation as anything but amusing.
Voss: Aww, you two don’t want another round? With all that latinum, it can be on us!
A’Mayri, who had looked thoroughly in control when she was sitting at the table, stood up with all the grace of a newborn fawn. But this fawn had decided it was time to get the hell out of there, because she suddenly grabbed Lyra and Evan each by a hand and practically dragged them from the booth and into the crowd. It was all Lyra could do to stay on her own feet as she hurried after A’Mayri and out into the night, leaving the Bottled Repose in a tizzy behind them.
((Time skip, Ashalla District))
They stumbled out into the simulated night, laughing and teetering and nearly spilling strips of latinum all across the street. When A’Mayri finally let them go, Lyra had to brace herself with her hands on her thighs because she just couldn’t stop laughing. All the streetlights were shimmering around them and the fake stars twinkled above their heads. It was like being caught in a glittering snow globe. The station had never felt so magical.
Her eyes caught A’Mayri’s and she could hear little pieces of the way she thought of them, the way she worried about them, wanted them to be happy. The sincerity of it was almost overwhelming. She wanted to pull A’Mayri into an enormous hug, but she wasn’t sure if either of them was quite steady enough for that.
A’Mayri: I may have consumed too much sucrose and sugar forward beverages, and thus will be experiencing un-optimal symptoms and physical coordination. I apologize in advance and hope I remain in good standing.
Good standing indeed. A second passed, and suddenly, the half-Vulcan was on the ground like a sack of potatoes. Evan and Lyra both jumped to try to get to her in time, but, considering the amount of drinks they’d had, it wasn’t surprising that neither made it.
Ross: Woww!!
Voss: May-may!
Lyra’s family was strangely obsessed with nicknames - all of them had one - and she often made them up without thinking. She dropped to her knees next to her friend, trying to sort out where her limbs were amidst the puddle of clothing she’d turned into.
A'Mayri: Funding....::still face down, hand wobbling as she vaguely pointed in their direction:: for- ::small hiccup:: -for future planet side courting rituals...
She couldn’t help her own breathless laughter as A’Mayri weakly gestured to them. Planet-side courting rituals, huh? Let it never be said you could get the Vulcanoid off-track.
Voss: ::giggling:: Oh no, you earned that! You should spend it on yourself.
Though it was a rather moot point at the moment. Evan crouched down and put a careful hand on A’Mayri’s shoulder.
Ross: Ensign – are you alright?
When she didn’t respond, he glanced up at Lyra with a grin somewhere between worry and amusement – then he handed her their budget box and grabbed A'Mayri's arm, put it around his shoulder, and hoisted her back upwards. They swayed gently as he steadied her stance.
Voss: There you go, kiddo! Right-side up again.
Lyra had too many younger siblings - treating friends like wayward children was a tough habit to break.
Ross: Do you know where her quarters are? We should probably get her home.
She tucked the jingling box of latinum under her arm as she nodded, and the three of them set off.
((Short Timeskip, A'Mayri's Quarters))
The walk back to A’Mayri’s quarters could have easily doubled for a scene from one of those old flatvid slapstick comedies Mi’shune had shown her during a movie night. Evan and Lyra both struggled to keep their half-conscious (...maybe quarter-conscious) friend on two feet as they careened through hallways and turbolifts, giggling and ducking out of sight the moment anyone else passed by. Thankfully, it was late, and the halls were mostly empty, so the majority of the trip was just them and their laughter bouncing off every wall.
Eventually, they’d gotten A’Mayri into her room, and laid her down gently in her bed. Lyra had slipped off her shoes and went to get a large glass of water to put on her bedside table. She wasn’t sure what Vulcan hangovers were like, but it was never a bad idea to hydrate. They fussed over her a little longer, trying to make sure she was comfortable, but she seemed to drift immediately off to sleep. Hopefully she’d be no worse for wear come morning. With their charge all tucked in, they finally stepped back into the corridor and let the doors close softly behind them.
Lyra immediately leaned against the wall with a flushed smile. The air in the hallway was quiet and soft - cool, after spending time in A’Mayri’s more Vulcan-esque climate controls. She let her head fall to the side and her eyes caught Evan’s.
Ross: ::slightly out of breath:: My god... what was that, huh?
He grinned at her. Their journey through the hallways had mussed his hair and made him look adorably askew. She stood up from the wall and her smile grew a little smaller, a little softer.
Voss: *That* was quite the adventure. But… I guess it’s late, huh?
There was the briefest moment of silence between them - Lyra could almost hear her own heartbeat ringing in her ears. And then he nodded down the corridor.
Ross: Mind if I walk you back?
Butterflies all over again.
Voss: I’d like that.
((En route to Lyra’s Quarters, Deck 1000))
They fell into step side by side as they started on their way to her apartment. For a while, the walk was quiet. A kind of dreamy, tired reverie that was at odds with the way Lyra could feel her heart thumping in her chest. Not an uncomfortable silence, but a charged one. She started thinking back over the course of the evening. Everything that had been said and not said. Her fingers twisted together in front of her - the only sign that this was far from a casual stroll. Finally, she broke the silence.
Voss: You know, I… ::the sound of her voice almost startled her:: I just wanted to say… you asked about the mission earlier, and how we thought it went. I know a lot went… well, all kinds of sideways, but… don’t they always? None of it had to do with how you led the team. You should feel proud of how you did. The information we got from Kiro has saved lives. We saved lives.
Was it a little ironic coming from her, after the way she’d crashed out about it? Maybe. But it was always easier to see the good in someone else than in yourself, and it was particularly easy for her to see the good in him.
Ross: ?
She shrugged a shoulder and grinned.
Voss: I mean, sure, you absolutely owe me for making me pretend to be some kind of business woman, and I *will* get you back for that when you least expect it, but that’s beside the point for now. I know you’re gonna hate to hear this, but you are a good leader.
Ross: ?
She turned around to face him and continued walking backwards down the hall. A slightly dangerous prospect given her choice of beverages up until that point, but she was pulling it off for the moment.
Voss: See, that’s the thing. Turns out you don’t have to like it to be good at it. Which I know, kind of a lame deal, right? But you can’t help it. You care about how people work. You notice them, the details of them, make them feel seen. And you’re thoughtful, you try to meet them where they are. It makes it easy for people to want to be around you.
Ross: ?
A broad smile took over her face as they neared her quarters.
Voss: Nuh uh. You’re gonna stand there while I compliment you and take it like a man. ::leaning back against her door:: Or else!
Ross: ?
Suddenly, the smile drifted into a nervous little upturned grin.
Voss: Or else… you could come inside?
Maybe it was too forward. Too fast. After all, this evening had been such a whirlwind that she wasn’t even sure how she was still standing. But the question slipped out before she could stop it.
Ross: ?