Ladies Night

Posted on Sun Jul 31st, 2022 @ 2:27pm by Lieutenant Commander Kim Standish & Lieutenant Commander T'an & Lieutenant Commander Dusan & Lieutenant Eve West

Mission: Prelude: The Gathering
Location: Deep Space Station Lambda-2: Promenade
Timeline: Mission Day 2 at 2030

[ Club Vision ]
[ Deep Space Station Lambda-2: Promenade ]
[ DAY 2 - 2030 ]

Dusan had managed to make a reservation for a large group. They didn't know how many women: the others had passed the invitation along onboard the Proxima. They were dressed in a sparkly high-cut black dress that rode up well past the knee. They wore mascara, a maroon shade lipstick, and some light eyeshadow. They felt like they had done a bad job with their makeup, it was one of the things they had struggled with in their journey to become more feminine. They had only met Commander Rhowin and Lieutenant West out of the women on board. They were losing their confidence that maybe the others wouldn't be accepting of their gender identity compared to the rest.

After a day full of meeting her pilots and other essential personnel like the CMO for her medical exam, she needed a break. The ladies' night that Dusan had planned would be a perfect distraction from the various administrative stuff that came with being a senior officer. Some felt that being a pilot was easier than other jobs in the fleet. But realistically, while it was one of the best jobs in Eve's eyes, it was also just as difficult as being a Chief Engineer or even an XO. Just in a different way.

Eve entered the club wearing a dark brown bomber jacket with a black shirt underneath that was slightly cropped. She also wore simple black jeans with black boots that fit over the jeans. It was more of a simplistic outfit, but she never was one to wear anything too fancy off-duty, unless it was meant to be formal. But even then, dress uniforms could be used on those occasions. She looked around as she entered, looking for Dusan or any other of the Proxima's female crew.

Kim had entered the club the way she entered just about any place she went--as if she owned the place. She wore a long tunic that settled just at mid-thigh made up of a blue-green iridescent fabric that seemed to shift when she moved. The top slung around her neck in a halter leaving much of her back exposed, the pale tone of her skin contrasting sharply with the dark blue-green fabric. A pair of black leggings that ended at her ankles followed and a pair of heeled black ankle boots completed the ensemble.

She didn't go out often. Not that she couldn't or that she didn't like it. More that she just rarely had the opportunity or reason to do so. She'd received the invitation to join from Rhowin and, figuring she might as well enjoy the limited options at the starbase while she could had agreed to come along. Now, she stood at the bar with a chocolate martini held between two nimble fingers scanning the room for faces she might recognize.

Mingling with the crew during private time: it was the evil genie of the Executive Officer. The lot of the Commanding Officer and the Executive Officer was a lonely one. And that was hard. Rhowin had come to the idea more reluctantly than she'd let on with Standish and Dusan. Mingling was playing with fire, especially as she had to establish a repertoire and authority. But months on a Shakedown Cruise with only the odd shuttle trip left her with a want for leave.

And Barzans, Rhowin included, were seldom one for playing with fire. It was their black and white way of viewing things. Rhowin had sold herself on this as a social gathering to come to understand her new crewmates. Her thoughts were distracted about the man- or person, as how could one tell with a Chameloid- that now sat in Lambda-2's brig. She rubbed her neck, filtering fingers under her coiling nape hair.

One hour, she said. She stood in front of a club's door. She stepped into its detection grid and watched as they opened. Rhowin had dressed with comfort in mind. She preferentially wore blue-gray in the form of a plunging, light sweater-like wrap that snuggly implied multiple wraps around the waist. It was tied off her right hip. Below the wrap, she wore gunmetal gray with geometric cut patterns in the neckline for a sense of layering and modesty.

Rhowin spotted Standish first and then, in short order, West. Dusan should have stood out more, they being so very tall. Yet from her vantage, a wall of people had seemingly drifted toward an Argelian's charisma.

Rhowin met eyes with West first and then head gestured toward the bar to guide her to the bar where Standish seemed to hold a queenly court. It was on her way to the bar herself that Rhowin spotted Dusan. She waited to meet eyes with them, and then gestured them to the bar as well.

Eve saw the head gesture and began to move herself towards the bar. A few moments later she took a seat on an empty stool next to the rest of the group.

Kim looked up from her drink, spotting Rhowin moving towards her. A moment later West seemed to materialize out of the crowd. "Eve," she said to the pilot in greeting, raising her martini in a sort of half salute half toast.

Dusan noticed Rhowin's hand gesture waving them over to the bar. They rose to their feet, they felt their skirt shift upward and their masculine hands moved to pull them slightly. Their dress wasn't very modest for the most part. They made their way over to the bar. They held back with their Argelian embrace with a simple light hug to all three women and the graze of their cheek against each of theirs, "Rhowin, Eve. Both great to see you. And you must be?"

The off-duty CMO had not expected to be hugged. She had not, in fact, expected anything about Dusan, but she took them in with the cool collectedness of a doctor, mentally skimming through her review of the officers' files to settle on the one that had described their chief helmsman. Or helmsperson in Dusan's case. She recalled a note that they had both feminine and masculine leanings and preferred the neutral they over a gendered pronoun. "Standish," she said, voice low and frank. "Kim Standish. Ship's doctor."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Doctor Standish." Dusan offered both of their hands' palms face-up once they had stepped away, "I'm Dusan. Chief Navigator."

Standish nodded taking one of the Argelian's hands and turning it to shake it. She suspected she was supposed to go with a different greeting, but since she wasn't sure what shaking seemed most straightforward. "Likewise," she said.

Rhowin, post-embrace of the Argelian, tapped the bar. "Samarian Sunset," she said to the bartender, a robust Terellian with four arms. Three of them were making quick, multitasking work while a fourth sucked on a salt stick. She turned back, resting mid-back to the bar. "Your first Argelian, Standish?" She asked of her travel companion. She nodded at Dusan. "Commander," she smiled. "You look ready to mingle."

"First one out of uniform," Standish replied with a chuckle and a shrug as she brought her drink back to her lips.

The Argelian smiled and pulled their hands to their sides while offering the three women a smile. They joined in with Standish's chuckle only a short laugh. They were less confident with their laughter coming across as too boisterous and masculine, "Hopefully this won't be our last outing to see me out of uniform, Doctor."

Bemused by the banter between the Navigator and Doctor, the Barzan watched on. In time, Rhowin tapped her drink, turning it from clear to a cloudy layering of sunset colors. "Eve, you've met Dr. Standish already?"

"Yes ma'am," she replied as she flagged down the bartender. "I met her earlier for my routine transfer medical exam."

"That she did," Kim remarked with a sort of half cheers with her martini glass that was, already, beginning to look perilously empty. She glanced at the glass as it came to eye level and with a tilt of acknowledgment tipped it back downing the contents. She twisted back to the bar, repeating the same tapping gesture before holding up her empty glass for the Terellian to see. "I'll take another," she said dryly. "When you have a moment."

Dusan realized they were the odd one out without a drink, "And I'll have a Sauvignon Blanc."

The four-armed attendant seemed hardly perturbed by the want of three officers demanding their attention. With a hand still twirling a salt stick, two maneuvered to mix another drink of the Doctor while the third found a bottle of chilled white. "What can I get you?" They asked West. The single-arm reached toward Dusan with a glass of wine.

"Just a Vulcan Brandy please," she requested to the bartender. It was something more or less simple to start off.

Rhowin sampled her drink: sour, citrusy, layers of warm and cool in the fascination that was Samarian mixology. She noticed the Argelian looking less than at ease: she understood but not for the same reasons. She turned attention to a pair of Mikulaks who'd entered. They had large, saucer-like cat eyes that glinted with reflection in the low light.

"Sooo..." Standish said feeling the effects of the vodka or perhaps just the uncertainty of trying to forge connections with new people. She glanced at those assembled, wracking her brain for a good conversation topic.

As Standish tried to find words for the new gathering, a pair of Bolians approached Dusan and began chatting away at them about their uniquely chic fashion. The bartender slipped West her drink at the same time she produced Standish's mixed drink.

Kim snagged the martini glass tipping it up in a half toast toward the bartender and their multiple limbs before bringing it to her lips for a sip.

Rhowin watched Dusan be drawn away by boisterous and chatty blue figures- both of which donned elaborate wigs. The Barzan glanced at Kim as if to silently append to their earlier conversation about just such fashion. Rhowin sipped her drink again, following the pair and their new captive with amusement. "Have you ever met a Bolian before, West?" She asked.

Eve took a sip of her brandy. "I actually had a roommate at the academy who was Bolian. She made some of the best Bolian souffles."

Kim couldn't help warming to the topic. She returned the XO's glance acknowledging the connection to their earlier conversation before adding. "For a people with no hair they have quite a fascination with hair as a fashion accessory. It's intriguing to me. And not just hair, but... maybe cranial adornments would be a better description. It's always a bit of a treat to meet a Bolian and see what they're wearing that day."

"It sure is," Eve agreed and took a sip of her drink.

Kim had taken another sip as Eve spoke and rather than hastily swallowing it she raised her glass and her eyebrows in a sort of acknowledgment of the other woman.

Rhowin sipped her drink. "I think Dusan will be fine. They can handle a couple of gregarious Bolians," she smiled amiably. But it was a fair- and bemusing- question. For a species with no hair, Bolians seemed to love wigs. "Bolian souffle. I've never had one." He commented, sipping her drink yet again.

"They do seem capable of holding their own," Kim agreed. "More power to them I say. A little bit of fun never hurt any of us. Particularly when we're about to be away from a station or a planet for a bit."

Eve looked at Rhowin first. "Personally I think they're some of the best desserts to ever exist. Perhaps I could make you one sometime. I can't guarantee it will be as good as my old roommates', but I can at least try" she offered and then looked at Standish. "I second that statement" she smiled as she took another sip of her beverage.

Rhowin bobbed her head with another inhibition-lowering touch of alcohol introduced to her system. "Are you a chef, Eve?" She asked.

"Not professionally" she chuckled. "But I will sometimes cook my own meals when I have the time."

"I burn water," Rhowin grimaced. "I'm banned from the Galley on two ships."

Eve raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Standish chuckled at the exchange, watching the other two women. She tipped back the rest of her martini in one very long swallow and set her glass down on the bar. "Alright ladies. Dancing or another round?"

"Really," Rhowin confirmed to West with a head bob. She settled her drink down on the bar, mostly done. "Dance. And rescue Dusan. Eventually."

"That assumes they want to be rescued," Kim said, raising her eyebrows meaningfully before beginning to wend her way through people in the direction of the dance floor. She wouldn't have, necessarily, considered herself a good dancer, but with enough inhibition lowering libation she could be convinced to give a fair approximation of dancing. She turned once she arrived at the edge making sure that Eve and Rhowin were following.