Damn it, Gin!

Posted on Mon Mar 18th, 2024 @ 10:36am by Captain Tristan Faust & Lieutenant JG Marcel Knowles

0 words; about a 1 minute read

Mission: Mission 4: Through a Glass, Darkly
Location: Captain's Quarters
Timeline: M4 MD09 (2268.07.18) 0100

He wasn't exactly what would constitute as wankered in terms of intoxication, but the young helmsman was a bit tipsy and he swayed and staggered his was down Midway's corridors. He was about halfway to sloshed and it was a quarter after 01:00 and the lieutenant was fortunately not due on duty for a while. He had made a choice earlier that evening to drown his woes with a few shots too many of Saurian brandy. What he had done after that was break into a sweat and strip off his uniform shirt and sit there in a beater thinking about how dumb he had been, but that only caused him to chase after the Sarian Brandy with a sip of Orion rum. Whatever his blood alcohol leve was, it was not suitable for piloting a shuttle let alone being at the helm of the Midway.

He had grabbed a bottle of gin before leaving his quarters and ade his way to Captain Faust's quarters, standing outside and gently tapping the bottle neck against the door. Cling..cling..cling went the bottle. He could feel the small vibrations in his hand, shooting up his arm and making him giggle gleefully. "Mon capitaine, où es-tu?" the helmsman called out to his Commanding Officer. He had no sense of time in his present state of mind and was a giggling goof just standing there swaying about.

The door opened. The Captain was standing there in his black watch tartan LL Bean robe and matched pajamas. His blonde pompadour was a mess. He stood there with a stern expression on his face. "Mr. Knowles, I assume you have a good reason for disturbing me at this hour?" He asked before looking a the liquor bottle in his hand, "And in an... Uncouth manner..."

Marcel flashed a smile and brought the bottle up towards the Captain of the Midway. "Gin martini... orange peel no onion or olive if I remember correctly, Captain" the young officer said. "I couldn't sleep and I" he sighed. "Martini?"

He wasn't necessarily the most stable or responsible person, but Marcel had been trying to make it work on the Midway. "I'm sorry if I'm disturbing you, but the night is young-ish."

"It's 0100," the Captain responded, "I don't drink after midnight and at this hour I think you should switch to coffee or something else... " This was certainly among one of the more peculiar occurrences on the Midway so far...

With how Marcel's stomach was somersaulting around, he was thinking that the Captain was onto something. "So...gin martinis rain check?" he smirked a bit hoping Captain Faust would find that reasonable. "Probably best I sit down until the ship stops spinning around and get some water in me. Merci Captain, a little coffee after should get me shipshape again."

The Captain looked around and nodded, "You'd better get in before security or someone finds you in this state out and about," he said as he ushered the young man inside, The door closed behind him. "Although I could put you on report myself..." He sighed, "But I'm not going to do that." He finished.

Marcel took a few uneven steps forward, one or two too many in his physical condition and staggered a bit, off balance and anchored himself with his arms around Captain Tristan Faust like a drunke albatros hanging from the man's neck. "Damn it, Gin. Sorry, I'm kind of a light weight. Shh don't tattle on me" he added chuckling playfully. "You're a good Captain."

The Captain set him down onto the small leather coach, "So I've been told," he responded before parking himself down into his Eames Lounge Chair. "Are you going to enlighten me as to why you are in this state at 0100? Thankfully we are no longer at battle stations..." He looked at the chronometer on the wall and had a feeling he wasn't going to get much more sleep.

"Boys are stupid" Marcel said groaning and falling back flat onto his back on the small leather coach. "I just want to find a nice guy. Is that so much to ask for?" Marcel stated to whistle a little tune. "Some day my prince will come along..." he sat up and sighed. "It's hot in here. Water?"

The Caption sighed and stood up. He walked over to the synthesizer and ordered a glass of water. He walked over and set it down onto the end table, "I have a feeling in going to need that Martini by the end of this conversation...," he commented, "And there are four hundred people on this ship and thousands in the fleet... I'm sure there's someone out there."

"Care to test that theory" muttered Marcel not entirely ashamed at the places his mind could go. "Uh yeah... four hundred. How many are male? Right now subtract the exclusively heterosexual ones. Then tell me Captain of which of my eligible bachelor's isn't dating, engaged, or married?" Marcel looked at Tristan. "I developed feelings for Toby. It was a bad idea. It got worse."

"First, I don't make it my business to pry into the personal affairs of my officers... Whomever they date it's on their own time. I am not sure how many are married or unmarried... However I assume given the average age of the crew and the nature of the service, I would imagine most are unattached," the Captain explained, "Developing feelings for anyone in a committed relationship certainly isn't a good idea." He ignored the comment about his relationship status. Tristan was still technically single but he wasn't about to discuss his relationships with one of his junior officers.

"I never said it was a great idea" Marcel quipped and shook his head. "It was dumb. I know that, but Toby was special. I thought there was chemistry, and I didn't think he had it with Mikey but then I realized Toby was just Toby. He felt nothing like that for me and those two are right for each other" admitted the helmsman. "Plus Toby is young. I would be better off finding someone older."

"Well, you don't know Mike all that well either," Tristan responded, "I've known him for a long time. Although he's all business these days, he isn't always. He used to be more fun, but I suppose that's med school for you. But anywayz they've been together for a long time, first serious relationship for each." He figured some context might help. "Toby and Mike do balance each other," he added "If nothing else."

He looked at Tristan. "I'm a mess. I know, but I'm not some homewrecking fool, Sir. I'm just lonely and dumb. I had someone once but a landing party didn't go right and he didn't come home again. My bed has mostly been empty since then, I shouldn't be saying any of this to you. You just.. I guess you make feel safe. That's why I came I think."

"You know that's the space service," Tristan responded, "It happens... We've been fortunate so far..." He was surprised at the familiarity, "Well, you already said it," he responded, "I guess I had to make good on my open door policy some day..." The last officer who was a mess on his couch has been Ensign Ivy Kinsley after their first mission. The young woman has been beaten and sexually assaulted pretty badly. He wondered how she was doing since leaving the ship. So many members of their crew from launch had already moved on to different posts in the fleet.

Marcel looked at Tristan and didn't know exactly what he was going to say but the thought of feeling safe was reassuring. "I don't bring it up a lot. My family thinks it just didn't work out or he dumped me. I didn't have the heart to tell them the truth because it just makes it more real. If I pretend I sometimes believe it in a way, but I know the reality. He didn't come back not because he didn't want to."

"Captain... Tristan," the Helmsman took a deep breath. "Can I have some coffee? I could use the warmth and a cup of feel good."

The Captain nodded and stood up once again and went to the synthesizer and ordered two cups. He returned with both and set them down. Unlike the silver Styrofoam cups which came out of most dispensers the Captain had used his U.S.S. Midway coffee cups and saucers, which of course were Lenox bone china. He set one cup and saucer down onto the end table and sat back down himself. "Destroying yourself isn't going to improve the situation," he explained, "If anything, it has the opposite effect."

"It's difficult getting up and putting on this uniform each day. I thought about resgning my commission after Colton died, but he loved Starfleet and I love him, too much to ever give this up. He wouldn't want that, but he'd be telling me a lot of what you are, I'm destroying myself." Marcel knew this. "I hate being alone."

"Well there's no point in rushing into a relationship just to be in a relationship," Tristan commented, "You could always spend your time with friends until you find someone... There has to be someone on the ship you'd want it spend time with... Other than Ensign Dienstag... Sometimes things come from friend of friends."

"Mmmhm. I hear you," Marcel said and took a sip of coffee and let out a long sigh. "There's someone I want to spend more time with, but I don't think he's going to like the thought of spending time with me." He wanted to say more but something pulled him back from over explaining.

"Alright, well there's a starting point anyway," Tristan responded before taking another sip of coffee, "Since you seem a tad more lucid, I suppose I should say I will... Overlook tonight, just don't make it a habit... And your next commanding officer may not be as accommodating."

Marcel smirked and looked teasingly at Tristan. "Much obliged that you do look past tonight, Captain" he said a little more coherent. "Though I'm hoping not to have a next Commanding officer for quite some time. I like where I am and I'm a bit taken underneath current command."

"I'm glad to hear that," Tristan responded and then cocked an eyebrow, "taken underneath current command?"

"Why serve aboard any other ship for any other Captain? I have the Captain I need. You are doing a fine job, and I appreciate you giving me a bit of grace."

"Well, I'm glad to hear it Lieutenant," the Captain responded, "Now if I were you I would get to bed... Your own bed."

Marcel smirked. "I won't even ask if that's an order. I will just take it as one. Goodnight, Captain. " Part of Marcel did not want to go back to his quarters because that would mean being alone, but he couldn't stay in the Captain's quarters. Alone it was.

As The Captiain watched him depart, he couldn't help but think with how narrow the age gap between him and his crew he felt more like an older brother than a mentor or father figure. Still, he did the best he could. Things occuring at 0200 are rarely straight forward.

 

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