Ensign Tess Evinrude - Observations

[Tess Evinrude]

((The 47 Lounge, Mid-Level, Deck 3, U.S.S. Ronin))

In the few days Tess had been aboard the Ronin, one of his more exciting discoveries was the close proximity of his quarters to the 47 Lounge. Turn left down the hall, take the lift one deck lower, and there you were: "where everybody knows your name."

This would be Ensign Evinrude's first visit to the Lounge. He hoped that, someday, this place would resonate with that cozy feeling.

A few hours ago, towards the end of his shift, he was ordered to diagnose reports of replicator malfunction - for now, he was the only Ops division officer assigned to the low-priority task. When he ordered his 0900 hours dinner, part of his mind drifted back to work.

oO Wonder if I'll get a bucket of shrimp? Oo

Evinrude: Shakshouka. Three eggs, with...carrot, onion, diced potato, kalamata olives. Side of toasted baguette slices.

The dish appeared, along with a savory tomato aroma. He nodded and continued his order.

Evinrude: Green tea, hot, low caffeine. Add a teaspoon of honey.

oO Two for two! Oo

Tess carried his tray of food and drink over to the bar and, knowing that other nightshift officers would be relaxing despite the early hour, asked for a pour of Saurian brandy. He tipped the amber liquid into his tea, thanked the bartender, and climbed the stairs to deck three. Spotting the observation windows, he picked a table with a view.

With a long sip of the Saurian toddy, he felt his shoulders drop, the day's tension held there fading away. For a long moment, he stared out into the twinkling void.

T’Fearne: ::annunciating clearly:: Macchiato…hot.

By the second "Macchiato, hot," Tess felt his attention pull away. On the third order, he turned to look down over the railing, onto the lounge below. A woman, appearing Vulcan, was staring at her mug, appearing coffee. He continued to observe, idly curious, as she walked towards the stairs.

She stepped onto the Lounge's mid-level, and hesitated for a moment by the panoramic view. The way she searched the stars beyond the window's protection struck him with feelings of unexpected affinity. He found himself smiling. Maybe it was the brandy?

When she kept moving towards his table, he forced his eyes back to his food, keeping his face neutral but feeling mild panic.

oO Did she see me staring? I wasn't staring! ...was I staring? Oo

T’Fearne: Hello. We’ve not met before. You’re new to the Ronin, aren't you? Ensign...?

Tess looked up again at the sound of her voice, succeeding again at keeping his face from betraying him.

Evinrude: Evinrude! Tess Evinrude. I got here just as things on Bajor were getting...interesting.

When he saw her hand extending, he scooted his chair back and stood to meet the greeting. They were around the same height, Tess noted. She might have been a few centimeters taller.

T’Fearne: :: offering a human-style handshake:: Tess Evinrude, then. A pleasure to meet you. I’m T’Fearne. I’ve been with security aboard the Ronin for a few months now. And you? :: Indicating his gold uniform:: Engineering, I presume?

Evinrude: ::He returned the handshake, replying with a small shrug and a smile.:: Operations, actually. We get that a lot.

T’Fearne: Ah, I was close. In any case, welcome aboard. :: pause:: May I join you? Or would you prefer to enjoy your meal in peace?

Evinrude: Oh! You...may! ::He made a little open-palmed gesture towards the seat across from him.::

She flashed a smile and tucked into the chair across from the green-eyed ensign, putting her cup of disconcerting fruit on the table in front of her and twirling her chopsticks with a flourish.

oO A smiling Vulcan? Oo

He sat down again after she was seated, and was reaching for his fork when he noticed her mug.

Evinrude: That's...not coffee. ::He leaned towards her side of the table, and caught the smell.:: ...can I ask...what that is?

T'Fearne: Response

Evinrude: ::He gave a short, relieved laugh.:: I didn't want to be rude, in case it was a revered cultural dish. But if you couldn't tell from my expression, the smell is...off putting.

T'Fearne: Response

Evinrude: ::With a professional tone.:: Oh? Is this your first time experiencing replicator trouble since the refit? Any other reports of--

Tess stopped himself. This was dinner, not duty.

Evinrude: ::With a self-effacing smile.:: Sorry, apparently I haven't shifted out of work mode yet. ::He gestured towards his food.:: These aren't breakfast eggs - it's dinner. I'm nightshift, for the moment.

T'Fearne: Response

[Tags/TBC]

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Ensign Tess Evinrude

[he/him]

Operations Officer

USS Ronin

R240111TE1