The Pip and a Half Club pt3
Posted on Sat Apr 4th, 2026 @ 5:54pm by Lieutenant Commander Bonnie "Bon-Bon" Durnell & Lieutenant Leo Da'Cinci & Commander Savar cha'Salik hei-Surak Talek-sen-deen & Commander Dean House & Lieutenant JG Micheal Stevens & Lieutenant JG Jacob Rosen & Lieutenant JG Olivia Voight & Lieutenant JG T'Lar & Commander Jennifer Baldric & Lieutenant Sarah Wilson & Senior Chief Petty Officer Ronson Mitchell
2,277 words; about a 11 minute read
Mission:
Character Development
Location: Holodeck 5
Timeline: 2200 Hours Shiptime
From the Holodeck arch came a commotion as several off duty security personnel forced their way past the holographic doorman, one of which, Crewman Lockyear, was carrying an 8X10 framed photograph of the hapless security officer killed on Vadia. The holographic bouncer had been programed to refuse entry to individuals but was unprepared to be bumrushed by a group determined to make entry with or without the passphrase and so it relented and let them pass begrudgingly. The posse made its way to the bar where Lockyear placed the picture prominently. The leader of the group, a big burly Scandinavian asked for a bottle of Tequila.
"This one is for Ortiz, our Brother who is now in Valhalla!"
and he poured the contents out before smashing the bottle to the floor.
"Now a round in his honor!"
The bartender looked none too happy for the smashed bottle of Tequila but nonetheless poured the group shots.
"SKOAL!" the big Viking cried out before pounding back his shot. "Another!"
Jacob made quick eye contact with Emilia who nodded and moved towards the boisterous newcomers with ease. Jacob pulled out his PaDD and rapidly entered a few commands as Gonzo reached them, offering the VIP room Jacob had just pushed to the simulation. They deserved their own space to grieve together however they liked.
"Gla-tor nash-veh du fam dvun ma ri oren-tor s' wuh lafosh t' ish-veh yut na' wuh academy, T'lar"
I see you still have not learned from the error of your ways at the Academy, T'Lar.
T'Lar spun round. She knew that voice.
"Have the courage to speak your vile opinions in English, Sorak," T'Lar stated coldly facing her old adversary.
Lieutenant JG Sorak regarded Jacob Rosen cooly before answering.
"We tried to warn you that this experimentation in approximation of human emotional states via physiological stimuli could result in a dangerous inroad to destructive emotionalism. And here you are, sloppy drunk and dressed like a... "
"Like a what, Sorak?" T'Lar seethed quietly.
"Haven't you embarrassed yourself enough for one night, T'Lar? I only came down here because someone here sent me a vid of you singing. Imagine if that were to make its way back to your family, T'Lar. How would your daughter feel?"
"You dare to threaten me after what you did at the Academy? This is harassment. Worse it's retaliation for almost getting you kicked out of the Academy. The XO of this ship is Vulcan and is married to my department head, is this really a fight you want to pick with me?"
Sorak raised his hands in a placating manner.
"I am simply looking out for our people as always, T'Lar. I see no need to burden your family with your shame. I was simply pointing out that your actions can have consequences that you would do well to consider before making a spectacle of yourself in the future."
"Hi Jacob Rosen. Nice to meet you." Jacob said, wide smile that did not reach his eyes plastered across his face while he stepped in between the two. He did not offer his hand.
"Pal, that is so thoughtful and helpful of you to remind her. What a friend." Jacob paused, waiting the slightest of moments to give the impression he was waiting for a response. The instant Sorak moved his mouth to respond Jacob cut him off. "My friend is enjoying herself, let's not spoil her evening with more of your assistance. How about I return your helpfulness with my own and help you find the exit?" Five casually dressed Operations team members turned from their adjacent tables and drinks with smiles of an equal facade to Jacob's and stepped beside him.
"Thanks for coming by bud." Jacob said slowly moving forward.
Sorak stood his ground impassively.
"I see you've found another one who is content to be the subject of your pathological curiosity, T'Lar, " Sorak said icily. He stared down Jacob with a face devoid of emotion.
"You even look like him a bit." the haughty Vulcan observed.
"She certainly has a type it would seem. I must warn you, things with this one do not end well. She's divorced one husband and buried a fiance'. One might call that 'damaged goods'..."
"Shut up, Sorak..." T'Lar said through gritted teeth as she fought to keep control of her emotions.
"I rest my case. Ah ah... no need to see me out. I've said what I came here to say and will now vacate the premises voluntarily and without delay."
And with that Sorak beat a hasty exit to the door.
T'Lar was exhibiting signs of stress shock phenomenon, suddenly withdrawn into herself, rocking slightly in her seat with trembling hands. A wound from one of her darkest days at the Academy had just been ripped open by the same Vulcan who had inflicted it upon her so many years earlier. Sorak's harassment then had been severely punished and she believed that to have been the end of it. To have him here, on this ship engaging in the same behavior was beyond her capacity to imagine.
Meanwhile Ronson had been minding his own business, and noted T'Lar seeming to withdraw from everything. His crew moral senses began to tingle and he moved closer.
"Hey, are you ok?"
T'Lar looked up at the Yeoman.
"At present I would have to admit that I am not, though I will be. It is kind of you to ask, Yeoman. I do appreciate it."
She turned to Jacob Rosen.
"Jacob, please accept my sincerest apologies for getting you mixed up in this. Sorak had no right making those assumptions about our friendship and I am deeply embarrassed by the way he spoke to you."
"No apology necessary T'Lar, however if you feel you have been harassed we should report it." Jacob said reassuringly. "Your call of course."
"I... confess I do not know what to do at this point. If I report him then that opens me up to scrutiny as well, and I have no doubt he would then see to it that my mother and daughter get dragged into this. While Starfleet may well have no problem with my actions here tonight, Sorak is right that they may prove embarrassing to my daughter and could be used against her chances of getting into the Vulcan Science Academy."
T'Lar's lower lip trembled and she looked genuinely distressed.
"If the Vulcan Science Academy throws out an application because of song and clothing choice I can't see the logic. As for your daughter, I don't know her but if she's anywhere close to as smart as her mother I think she'll understand." Jacob took a drink as he regarded T'Lar's worried expression.
"Art is a change machine, it's a transformation mechanism. Art is what the process of that expression does to us, to those who create it. The recipient of the art, the audience is almost inconsequential by comparison." He smiled warmly. "What you did up there was skilled and proficient. It is logical to accept those facts. But how the performance made you feel, even with Vulcan logic is the point. You have nothing to be embarrassed of. Shame here, is not logical."
T'Lar regarded him quietly for a moment, then nodded.
"Thank you, not only for your kind words but for your actions here tonight. Yours is an interesting perspective; one that I would hope bears out. But Vulcans can be very conservative, despite our dedication to the concept of Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations. As Sorak mentioned, the fact that I am a divorcee' within our culture does still carry a negative stigma amongst many Vulcans, regardless of the circumstances surrounding the dissolution of the marriage."
Jacob chuckled at that last part while taking a drink. "Believe me T'lar, humans do too. At least in my family's case." He looked down at his glass, and then to his finger where his own ring used to be. Looking back up at T'Lar, Jacob affixed a fresh smile on his face. "I understand, partially at least."
T'Lar followed his gaze to his ring finger and intuited his meaning.
"Ahhhh... Another commonality we share, then it would seem. I must say, Jacob, that I find it extremely agreeable to have made your acquaintance."
She paused, becoming almost shy again.
"You called me your friend to Sorak... I would very much like to consider you mine as well."
T'Lar turned to the bartender and ordered a whiskey sour, having had her fill of overly sweet drinks. She took a sip then raised her glass again to Jacob.
"To becoming good friends" she said with a rare smile.
Jacob clinked his glass against T'Lar's, his smile spreading further across his face. "To good friends." He said in agreement.
Olivia had heard about the unofficial club that had been set up in one of the lower holodecks. She had been considering going to check things out if only for a little while. Things had been challenging for her during the mission and it would take a bit of time for Olivia to sort through some of her feelings related to recent events. After her duty shift had ended, Olivia headed towards her quarters to change into something into something a bit more casual. During her walk to her quarters, Olivia went over several different options in her head.
Olivia pulled off her uniform after she reached her quarters and showered. She felt that it would help her relax a bit and remove some of the stress of the day. Once she had showered, Olivia headed over her closet to grab an outfit to wear. She didn’t have that many with her due to limited space at her previous duty station. Plus a lot of her stuff had been stored for her during her time she was doing her initiate training. Looking things over, Olivia finally decided on a purple sundress that had spaghetti straps and came down to just above her knees. After changing into her chosen dress, Olivia headed out and down towards the holodeck.
Music filled the space, sending vibes pumping through the club. Voices rose and floated above the music as people conversed, before a particularly catchy tune started and bodies flocked to the dancefloor. Baldric grabbed Dean's hand and dragged him forward, shucking her jacket off and tossing it over the chairs to claim their table.
Olivia made it into the holodeck finally. She didn’t make it for the start of T’lar song, but got to hear most of it and could tell that she had a talent for singing. She looked around to see who else she knew that might already be there.
Bonnie found the bar like it had been waiting for her, a quiet anchor in a room that refused to sit still. The first drink went down carefully, both hands around the glass, shoulders still tucked in as she watched the motion of the room instead of joining it. The music pressed in, loud and alive, and for a while she stayed at the edge of it, nodding along, letting the rhythm do the work her nerves would not.
The second drink came easier. One hand now. A small shift of weight from foot to foot. She drifted a little further from the bar, drawn by the movement of the crowd, by the pull of something warmer than anxiety. A laugh escaped her, quiet and surprised, as someone spun past too close and didn’t apologize. It didn’t matter. The room had a pulse and for once she wasn’t fighting it.
By the third, Bonnie was moving. Not dancing, not really, but there was a sway now, a looseness in her shoulders, her hands no longer hovering like they needed permission to exist. She threaded between tables with growing confidence, eyes brighter, steps quicker, trusting her footing in a way that would have concerned her earlier. The music lifted, horns sharp and joyful, and she found herself smiling at nothing in particular.
That was when the universe leaned in. It started small. It always did. A clipped shoulder she didn’t quite see coming. Her balance shifted. She corrected, quick, practiced, stepping back... Her heel caught the edge of a chair. She turned to steady herself, one hand reaching for the nearest solid thing, fingers closing around the thin metal neck of a mic stand just off the stage. Relief flickered for half a second.
The stand tilted. Bonnie’s eyes widened as she tried to right it, hands moving too fast, too much force in the correction. The base scraped, tipped, and knocked clean into a second stand beside it.
That one went easier. The second stand struck a monitor speaker with a hollow 'thunk', sending it rocking on its mount. Someone nearby lunged, catching it with both hands, saving it from a spectacular fall...
...and in doing so, elbowed the edge of a nearby table. Glasses jumped. One didn’t land. A bottle tipped, rolled once like it was considering mercy, then dropped off the edge and shattered against the deck in a sharp, bright crack that cut through the music.
A dancer stepped back instinctively. Right into the trailing cable of a lighting rig. The cable pulled taut. Above the stage, one of the smaller light bars jerked, swung, and dislodged just enough to send a cascade of decorative fixtures rattling loose. Not heavy. Not dangerous. Just enough.
Just enough. Something metallic bounced once, twice... and landed squarely in Commander Baldric’s nachos with a wet, devastating 'thwap'.
TBC
RSS Feed