I Was Just Running Away

Posted on Sat Dec 22nd, 2018 @ 2:03am by

Mission: Run Afoul
Location: Grand Hall/Lounge
Timeline: MD 1 2100 hours
1286 words - 2.6 OF Standard Post Measure

He came, he saw and now he was sneaking out. The Captain couldn't complain, he'd dressed in this ridiculous uniform and showed his face. She couldn't make him talk to anyone or be social however. Wilfred was free to be himself when not on duty in his opinion. Actually he was too afraid to mingle with anyone but he liked the sound of the first story better.

There was something to say for arriving late to a ship; it meant that he didn't have to dress up like a prize monkey for some 'official' shindig. It was bad enough he had to step down in life from a merchant to a Fleet jockey; to have to act like he liked the whole thing was asking too much this early in the game.

Skirting the main hall, Renner debated whether he should just head for his designated quarters, or stop by the lounge for a quick bite to eat. Caught up in these musings, he nearly ran into an escaping officer. "Shit, watch it already!"

"Sorry," Wilfred mumbled, his eyes wide in the horror of both being discovered escaping the banquet and having nearly run over someone. "I didn't mean to . . . "

Disengaging him from the other, Ren stepped back to regard the newcomer. He was somewhat of an age and size with himself, though the stranger seemed ... not so much frail as perhaps soft. "Whatever. I was just looking for the lounge."

"Oh, that's on deck three. But everyone's here in the ballroom if you're looking for the Ambassador's party." Wilfred stood aside in case the newcomer wanted to enter. "Not much going on except the usual visiting and little hors d'oeuvres. Nothing of substance."

"No thanks - I'm doing my best to avoid that ..." Ren waved his hand dismissively in the general direction of the brouhaha. "Deck three, huh?" He started off for the lift before pausing and glancing back over his shoulder. "You don't seem to fit that idiocy much yourself; you could join me if you want."

Wilfred thought about this for a moment. Generally he was not a people person and he'd just left a room full of people but there was something about this man that seemed to not freak him out as much. "Okay," he said, giving a noncommittal grunt. "I could use a drink."

"Alright, then." Somehow, the thought of drinking with another
crew-member sat better than doing so on his own. At least he wouldn't be the only one flaunting social protocols for the time being. "Name's Ren, by the way. What's yours?"

He paused. It was the same dilemma. How to shorten his name or whether to do so at all? He could be called Will but he'd never liked it that much. Or he could pick Fred but that seemed even more ridiculous. He sucked in a deep breath and answered. "I'm Wilfred." He nearly winced waiting for the man's reaction to his real name.

Ren cringed. "Geeze, did your parents hate you from birth or something? Any other names we can work with there, because there's no way someone named Wilfred can enjoy a good drink."

"Maybe," Wilfred sighed. "I've tried to shorten it over the years. Did you know that Will means strong willed warrior, does that really seem like me? And Fred means peace ruler. So basically I'm a peaceful warrior? I hate my name and of course my parents didn't give me a middle name." The revelation rolled off his tongue before he could stop it. Why was he telling a perfect stranger this stuff?

What did he get himself into here? "Tell you what - I'm just gonna call you Rex - works for me, and it suits you fine. Now, how about that drink?"

Wilfred didn't know how Rex suited him, but as he'd never had a nickname or much of a friend for that matter it didn't bother him. "Sure," he led the way to the lounge. "Probably have any drink you can name, though it will be replicated. I don't imagine they have much in stock for alcohol."

"Figures," Ren muttered. He'd had the real stuff when he'd been a captain, but this was the fleet, and for all they knew their shit, they were pansies when it came to anything resembling real entertainment. "Better than nothing, though. Lead the way, Rex - let's see what we can do."

Once they reached the lounge, Wilfred found a table close to the exit but with a nice window to look out of. "Yeah, I suppose so." He didn't want to tell this guy that he didn't usually drink.

"Don't sound too excited," Ren drawled. "Night's still young and all that." Glancing up, he noted the 'bar', as it were. "I'll be right back with the first round." Leaving Wilfred at the table, Ren made his way up and offered his best disarming smile at the tender on hand. "What do you have for tonight?"

Maev glanced up to see the young man approaching her bar. Trouble walking, that one, she mused, taking in the smile and arched brows. "Well, I have just about every variety of synthale you could want."

Ren leaned on the bar. "I'm sure you do, but I'm wondering about something with more of a kick in the pants."

An amused snort met the request as Maev turned aside. "And you actually think that will work? If I even had something else, that is."

Sensing a flicker of weakness, Ren pressed forward. "Of course; because I know professionals, and fleet regulations notwithstanding, someone like you could not even imagine heading out into the middle of nowhere with only artificial relief on hand." Folding his arms before him, he leveled her with a sincere gaze. "Tell me what you want, and if it's something I can manage, we can make a trade."

Wilfred watched the new man with some apprehension as he had no idea what he was being brought. Still, perhaps it would help him loosen up a bit and there was the matter of having to work around Lieutenant Rai who was gorgeous. He briefly wondered if this would give him a little more confidence. Not that a superior officer was likely to notice him. He still held some hope.

After a bit of negotiation, Ren returned to the table with a bottle and some mugs, and a satisfied smirk on his face. "Alright, Rex my boy - it's time we start this evening off right."

Wilfred opened his mouth to ask what it was but closed it again, shrugged and picked up the glass, downing the liquid as fast as he could, of he could have if his throat hadn't started burning upon contact. He coughed, sputtered and sprayed whatever it was all over the place.

Downing his first shot, Ren leaned over to give Wilfred a helpful slap to the back. "Works better if it goes down without coming back up; wanna give it another go?"

"Yeah, thanks," Wilfred answered sarcastically as soon as he was able. "I don't drink much, shocking realization I'm sure." It didn't look like he had much of a choice. If there was any way he was going to impress Lieutenant Rai, he was going to have to get used to this stuff, whatever it was. He saw no way of relaxing around her otherwise.

"Well, then," Ren poured out another round of shots. "Call this baptism by fire. By time I'm done with you, you'll be the talk of the ship."

Ensign Wilfred Wexler (pncp by Saulitis)
Brig Officer
USS Majestic

Petty Officer Renner Tycho
Damage Control Specialist
USS Majestic