Lt. JG Lyra Voss: Radio Silence
Sarah Terry
((Lyra Voss’s Quarters, Deck 1000, Habitat Sector, Starbase 118))
Normally, it took Lyra *hours* to get ready for these damn award ceremonies. She would try on dress after dress after dress until it felt like maybe she should just stand out in the corridor and start polling anyone who walked by. It was almost inevitable that she’d make it halfway out the door and then turn back to take something off or put something on or swap earrings or shoes or Four only knew what else.
Tonight, this was not a concern. Perhaps because, for the other ceremonies, she hadn’t really been sure what she wanted to look like - sophisticated? Beachy? Elegant? Chic? But for this one, she knew exactly - she wanted to look *unavoidable.*
So she’d pulled out a dress she’d never worn before - a shining gold brocade ballgown, with a wrapped, corseted bodice, thin, jeweled straps, and a side slit that peaked out occasionally from the voluminous skirt. She kept her jewelry simple - just a pair of teardrop diamond earrings - but twisted little sparkling pins into her red curls as she piled them into a bun on top of her head, with a few pieces falling down to frame her face. Plus a dark red lip and lined, smokey eyes.
Still, when she walked over to look at her reflection in the mirror, she felt a sort of hollow anxiety. What did she think was going to happen tonight? Was she going to throw a glass of champagne in Evan’s face in the middle of a ballroom and demand he explain why he’d been avoiding her? Four, even the thought of it made her feel ill. Like she hadn’t already turned her life into so much of a soap opera that near-strangers were putting out news briefs about it? She sat down on the edge of her bed with a heavy sigh as the dress threatened to deflate her lungs as a reprimand for slouching.
It was just that, for a bit, things had been going so well. After the dinner and the card game, they’d decided to take it slow, and she was happy with slow. It had given them a chance to just… hang out. Be friends. Be a little flirty and giggly and silly with each other, without anything hanging over them or… But then, overnight, he’d just… stopped talking to her. Stopped seeing her. An entire week went by. And she’d eaten herself alive trying to figure out what was going on. What she’d done. What she’d said. If she’d upset him or he’d changed his mind or… But then, what did he owe her anyway? They *weren’t* dating, not really, they weren’t “together” - they just… were. Until they weren’t. She flopped back on the bed so she could breathe again. Maybe she should just peel off the stupid dress, crawl into her pajamas, and pretend she was too sick to go to the ceremony.
It was an extremely tempting thought. But if he was hiding from her, and she started hiding from him, they’d never sort this thing out. And somehow that was even worse. So she’d summoned all her resolve to roll back up from the bed (damn corset, how the hell was Sol so comfortable in these?), and swept her way down to the Starlight Ballroom.
((Starlight Ballroom, Deck 499, Starbase 118))
She’d noticed the words “Starlight Ballroom” on one of the wall displays on the way down to the science department, but it hadn’t fully computed in her head that it was an actual, literal ballroom, just a few decks away from where her office was on deck 506. It was a gorgeous space, with a wide panoramic viewing window that would have taken her breath away if she hadn’t been so busy scouring the room for Evan. As a result, she was barely looking where she was going, which led her to walk almost face-first into the conversation Wyn, Ryden, and Alok were having.
Sylvax: It's certainly kinder to our pride.
Foster/Munshi: ?
She stumbled in with an awkward smile.
Voss: Oh! Hello! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… well, not that I wouldn’t want to come over and say hello - I just didn’t mean to shove in like that. But hi.
Ah yes, nice save, very smooth.
Munshi/Foster/Sylvax: ?
