Old Backpost: A Return to Form

Posted on Mon Jan 20th, 2025 @ 2:19am by Lieutenant Commander Alexander Espersen & Michelle Erilin

Mission: Lower Decks
Location: Espersen's Quarters
Timeline: Evening, a week after the disastrous archaeological dig (many weeks ago from present)

It had been a week since the disaster that was the Irol excavation. One week to stew on how badly it had gone.

Commander Alexander Espersen had made the point of analyzing everything. Everything. He went through tricorder data, he went through the reports of everyone involved, he even went through Lieutenant Stanson's post-mortem report.

His answers were few, but he did think of two things. One, retroactively it had been a mistake to activate the clockwork system at B Site, but Two, they would have, in all likeliness, tried to activate it eventually. Maybe they would have been better prepared, but also maybe not. The rocks did interfere with comms and tricorder readings. Maybe they never would have detected the somehow-still-living Irol in the depths.

Activating the system had been a mistake which cost the lives of two young men. But it was a mistake that he would almost certainly have made one way or the other. He could not imagine a timeline where he, Alexander Espersen, did not activate the system.

There were lessons to learn from it all. Next time a Federation scientist found an Irol colony, they would take specific precautions that he could not have anticipated.

Such realizations could bring intellectual solace, but rarely did they soothe the soul. In the end, he still took an action that led to deaths, and that took a toll.

He had a couple of options for trying to get back to his normal form. Cracking down on the Lower Deckers seemed ill advised this time though.

Therefore, it was up to art.

"Still comfortable there?" he asked his model, Michelle, as he continued his drawing. She had been still and professional and cool under his lamps for a solid 90 minutes. He was almost at a point where they could take a break but not quite yet.

"Quite comfy, thanks." Michelle smiled from where she was, watching him draw her. This time she'd opted for a more 'open' view, one arm running across the top of the couch as she rested her head on the other and a pillow. It was a rather quite easy position to maintain, lying on her side at a slight angle back, on her right side, left leg crossed over at the knee. She'd put on a bit more makeup around her eyes, mascara highlighting them to stick out more, a bright red lipstick for contrast.

She could feel just how much more relaxed than he'd been when she'd first shown up again and that leant her smile a more natural hue than before. She batted her eyelashes over at him, almost making more of an emphasis on her eyes, "I'll admit this rescheduling took longer than I expected it to, but given your schedule, I can definitely understand it."

"It's been hard to find the time," he admitted. "Since even before my last away mission it's been work work work, with small breaks long enough to eat and sleep. But I reminded myself that this is important, and carved out the time."

"Rest in general is important, Alex, and if you need me to talk to Calypso about making sure you get enough down time, I can do that." The concern was genuine within Michelle's voice, "Of course, since Anara returned to Federation space to handle her holdings there, she's handed over the Hydra to me, which is going to keep me busier than I'd really like to imagine. But for me, this isn't business, this is pleasure, a calling, so don't even start to think that you're imposing on me and my time."

“I appreciate that,” he said, honestly. It was here with her, whether drawing her or doing just about anything else, that he felt he could open up fully. She had a gift, and much training, which made her the perfect Counselor, for him at least. “How is running the Hydra, by the way? Are you adequately resourced?” He let out a small laugh. “As XO, I’m here for you too, you know.”

She made a minute adjustment to her position, not one that would truly alter her pose, but would give her a bit better of a look over at him, "So now I have the XO under my thumb, I'm related to the CO and if I can get Commander Valleroy and Captain Markova to submit to my wiles, I'll be able to take over the ship. Cally might complain, but my loyal followers will handle her." The levity in her voice was intentional, so he'd know she was joking.

“She’ll be handled, Mistress,” he said, bowing, his tone matching her level of non-seriousness. “I’m sure it won’t be hard to get Valleroy or Markova. Or McMillen. You’ll need a pilot though and I don’t know which way Windancer swings.”

"She shall fall in line or out the airlock!" Michelle giggled, eyes glowing with mirth, "Or I'll just serve drinks and get everyone drunk enough to proclaim me Empress of the Galaxy and I'll commission you all as my bodyguards. Or a third option: I'll just lounge here and let you finish up before I fetch us dinner."

“Let’s start with option three,” the artist suggested to his model. “We can escalate from there if we need to. Aaaaaaand done. You can move now, my lovely statue.” The drawing itself wasn’t actually finished, but the last touches would take time and could be done from memory. Worst case scenario, he could call her back another time.

"Mmmm..." Michelle unlatched herself from the couch and stood, maintaining some modesty even as she turned and stretched widely, shaking her arms out to get the kinks out before reaching for her kimono once more, slipping the silken fabric on and belting it closed before turning again, "Or I'm just going to borrow your comm for a moment?" Her green eyes were bright as he nodded. She flowed over to the wall console and tapped in the code for the Hydra, "Yes, Jessi, can you send two surf and turf up to Commander Espersen's? His preferences are in the file as are mine." She got confirmation from the server, then closed the comm, "And dinner's taken care of, about fifteen-twenty minutes."

“Thank you,” he replied. “Here, come and see what I’ve done so far.” He was continuing to put small marks on the page, mostly adding depth and shadow. The couch was largely undetailed, for that he could easily come back to whenever he wanted. “What do you think?”

"Hmm..." Michelle had stepped around behind him and leaned over his shoulder, draping her arms around him and down his chest, "Did I really put on that much eyeshadow?" She asked him with a chuckle that bounced the breasts pressed against him, "Maybe I should have had something draped over me? No, maybe not."

“Never,” Alexander said with a grin. “So…fifteen to twenty minutes, you say?” he asked, setting the page and his pencil down.

"No, we don't have enough time for that and for me to put my makeup back together enough to keep Jessi from thinking she'd interrupted us." Michelle laughed, reading his emotions as they rose, "I know you could answer the door, but then she'd absolutely know what we were doing!"

“Michelle, if I ever take only fifteen to twenty minutes with you, you should fire me as a client,” Alexander said. “You inspire and deserve better and more than that.” He kissed her cheek and rubbed the arms that remained draped over him. “Sit with me then?”

"You know that some clients just want to take the edge off with a quickie, right?" Michelle smiled as she kept one hand on him while she walked around the large chair and settled herself crossways on his lap, "Oh, and the young men, too, they don't understand the profession and are just there for the sex. I try to enlighten them, but some, well..."

“It’s an art,” he said, finishing her sentence with his own interpretation. “And you can’t always teach someone how to appreciate art. And as for stress relief quickies…well I obviously wasn’t counting those,” he said, grinning, his surface level thoughts briefly wandering at the notion. “That’s a different line item altogether.”

"Indeed it is," Michelle said maliciously, "And one I'm not the biggest fan of, because the cleanup and reset is more time consuming than the deed itself." She patted his cheek, "Besides, it isn't as intimate or satisfying as a good emotional connection. Sure, you guys get your rocks off, but we courtesans just feel like a piece of meat. Still, some of us like those clients, I just don't. I prefer to get to know my clients, but you know that already."

“And you’re so much better for it,” he agreed. “Back on Earth I’ve hired a few courtesans, starting with drawing them. Sometimes their patience with the process, and with me, was nearly infinite, like you. I’d get to know them a bit, them me a bit. We’d connect, like you and I have. Sometimes there was nothing, but I’d still end up with a mostly pleasant memory and a good piece of art.” He smiled at her. “I’m glad you decided to get to know me.”

"If I didn't, you should fire me as your courtesan." Michelle used his sentiments against him as well, then leaned forward to plant a very gentle kiss on his cheek, "I'll admit that I'm not getting many clients on board Chimera, so every one I do get just gets more of my attention. But that's for the best, probably, given the Hydra and all."

“The Hydra notwithstanding, fewer clients means your calendar is more open for opportunities to see me.” The chime to his door sounded. “Our food?”

"Our food." Michelle confirmed, shifting her weight to slide off his lap and landing gracefully on her bare feet, one hand lingering on his arm as she padded off towards the door with a smile at him. As the door opened, there was a murmur of conversation between Michelle and the person who'd brought things. A hovercart came into view as Michelle brought it back over, and stopped it in front of him, "And dinner is served."

“Mmm!” He leaned over it to look at the steaming plates of surf and turf. His preferences had indeed been well recorded. A beautiful filet mignon, cooked medium rare, with three scallops seared to perfection, all with just the right seasonings that he loved but wouldn’t make him wholly unapproachable to Michelle.

The plate that she'd gotten for herself was similar, a medium rare filet but instead of scallops or her preferred shrimp scampi (not available for specific reasons on this one), she'd switched out for a butter-poached lobster tail along with 'seasonal' veggies that she didn't know how got picked, along with mashed potatoes, a pool of butter in the depression in the center. "That's what we forgot to order, drinks!" Michelle looked shamefully, then grinned as she reached under the cart and pulled out a bottle of red wine, "But Jessi's good, so she thought of that."

“Whatever you’re paying her, it isn’t enough,” Alexander said as he relocated to the dining table. “Good woman, that Jessi.” He further examined his own plate, also resplendent with buttery mashed potatoes and vegetables. “Glasses and an opener down there too? Or do we need mine?”

She handed over the opener and the bottle to Alex as she brought out the two glasses, "Do the honors, please?" She set the glasses on the table as she began to transfer the plates to the table as well, making sure to disturb the contents of both plates as little as possible, "Is there anything going on the ship that you need to talk about? I have noticed you're definitely distracted."

After opening the bottle, he nodded and poured them each a glass. “We lost people. I went to explore some ruins and made some mistakes. I came back with two fewer people.”

"I'm sorry, Alex, I really am." She captured one hand as soon as it had released her glass and squeezed it gently, "I can't begin to understand what all happens out there on your missions. Is there anything at all that I can do?"

“You’ve done much of it already,” he said. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze back and then started cutting into his steak. “Listening. Being here. Letting my mind do its thing while I draw you.” He let out a chuckle. “Feeding me. Making love to me. All part of being here.” He took his first bite and closed his eyes as the meat practically melted in his mouth. “Damn. Did you give the chef different training? This is excellent.”

"I don't train anyone in anything!" Michelle objected, swallowing a delicate bite of her own steak, "All I did was inherit whoever Anara brought in, which included myself. Our cook does all the work himself, so you should be thanking Anara instead of myself."

“I’ll send her a thank-you card,” he said. “But this does taste divine, and better than before. Maybe it’s the company that’s improving it though.”

"Flattery, dear sir, will get you far." Michelle shook her head and laughed ladylike, "One of these days it won't, though, then what are you going to do?"

“I suppose I’ll need to use actions as well as words then,” he said. Whether it’s laying down my life in the line of duty, or carrying you off into the sunset. Or whatever is in between.” His food was delicious and going down quickly.

Michelle lowered her head and covered her face with her palm. It wasn't something she'd typically do with a client, but he was someone who she knew she could 'break character' with, in fact he'd enjoy that sort of thing on occasion. "All right, macho man, too much flattery can be too much."

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Fair enough. But what about the exact right amount of flattery?” he asked, finishing his last bite.

She still basically nibbled her steak, but it was most of the way gone because hers had been smaller, "Why, what do you have in mind?" She asked with a sly smile of half-knowledge.

He made a sly smile but then laughed. "More art, of course!"

"Hardly!" Michelle laughed, finally placing her fork down, "You forget, Mister Espersen, I can sense what you're feeling." She grinned to show him that she was saying it with good humor, "Unless you've got more in mind than just drawing me. Photography is always a good art form, though I'd retain rights to the originals for privacy's sake. Then there's dancing, if you're into that sort of thing, that is."

"I am," Alexander said. "I did see that dancing was on your list of qualifications. What styles do you know best? Or should I just get comfortable and get a surprise?"

"I wouldn't ask me to do ballet, but any of the formal or semi-formal dance styles were part of the training." Michelle gave a smile, "I'll admit, I like the more flourishful dances like the waltz or swing dancing, but not averse to any of the others." She stopped and snickered to herself, then louder, knowing that he loved how honest she was with him, "Then of course there's the style that everyone wants to associate with people like me, but there's no pole here to show you."

"No but I have a perfectly good lap," he quipped. "That said, it might surprise you to know that I learned some basic swing moves as a younger man. Have you tried swing in Mars gravity? It changes everything."

"I can't say I have, but it sounds delightful!" Michelle weighed how it could work properly, then nodded, "I think it would be something to try at some point!"

“I have a thought,” Alexander said. “Our next appointment should be on the holodeck. For one, I’d love to draw you in something you can dance in. And then we turn down the gravity, turn up the music, and try a few swing moves.”

"I'm sure I could find something appropriate to wear for that," Michelle allowed, "And I'm sure that we can arrange holodeck time, even if we have to steal my aunt's holodeck out from under her. All I have to do is bat my eyes at her and she'll hand over the keys."

“I have a bit of an awkward question on that note,” Alexander said. “Does she know about us? Rather, I assume she knows your line of work, but does she know who any of your clients are, specifically? Not that it’s a problem but I’m wondering about potential awkwardness, like if the three of us were at the Hydra Lounge or in a turbolift or the like.”

"I never tell anyone who my clients are, because it's none of their business." Michelle gave a very slight shrug of one shoulder, "And I am ever the professional. Some of my clients have enjoyed getting a public acknowledgement from me when we happen to meet out there, others have asked that I pretend I don't know them, for one reason or another. I leave that up to them to decide. You're no different in that regard, and while yes, she is my aunt, she has no claim to me or what I do or who I do it with. But, if you'd rather, I can just treat you like a patron of the Hydra Lounge whenever we come across each other away from in private."

"'Like a patron of the Hydra Lounge' seems strangely disconnected from the reality of it though," Alexander mused. "Like lying through omission, even when I'm not the least bit ashamed of our time together. But nor do I expect any show of intimacy or anything like that if we cross paths elsewhere on the ship." He let out a sigh and leaned back in his chair. "I'm overcomplicating this, aren't I?"

Michelle smiled sweetly and couldn't help but laugh, "Absolutely you are, but it's cute." She shrugged very slightly, "Obviously I don't hide who I am or what I do, it would violate one of the tenets of the Guild, unless I did it for self-protection, but that's not applicable here, but there's no shame in me being friendly around you in public, even additional to what happens behind closed doors. The question is: What are YOU comfortable with, Alex?"

He thought a moment and then smiled. “I’d like us to be friendly in public, Michelle. Greeting each other by name. Like friends might. I…I find I’m getting more of those, friends I mean, as time goes on on this ship. I’ve been missing it. And I’d like to count you among those, even if our time together like this is time paid for.”

"Have I ever taken a Fedcred from you?" Michelle asked as she shook her head with a smile, "As I said, the Fleet gave me a good contract and part of that is that my services aren't charged for, though the rules of the Guild still apply. I consider myself your friend, Alexander, and I won't do anything that could jeopardize that. It isn't an act to treat you like a friend in public, so I can happily do that."

All of that took Alexander by surprise. In truth he didn't know the specifics of Michelle's contract. He had scheduled her time through the computer program the Guild used and assumed it was drawing the necessary credit from him. But none of that was true. She was paid whether she saw him or not. And she was choosing to spend some of that time with him.

"I really appreciate that, Michelle," he said quietly.

"Alex, one thing I have learned in all my time in this line of work is that to be honest with others is to be honest with one's self. Jesus... With all this talk, maybe I should look into being a counselor with the Fleet." It was a joke delivered with a smile.

Alexander stood, brought their empty dishes back to the cart, and came back to her side. "Now, we were talking earlier about what we can do after dinner? Something about the exact right amount of flattery?"

"Dancing and the experience of doing so in microgravity? Specifically that of Mars, if I recall correctly?" Michelle batted her eyelashes as she gracefully rose from the chair she was sitting in, "But that also requires a bit more than a kimono, wouldn't you think?"

“How much time are you free?” Alexander asked. “It’s still early. There might be time to replicate the outfits, get a holodeck slot, and enjoy the music. Of course, we might be delayed in leaving if we get changed here…”

"I've got the time and the coverage." Michelle smiled brightly, "That's the best thing about being my own boss!"

“Well then let’s take all the time we need,” Alexander said, taking her hand and kissing it before pulling her closer.

"Then, sirrah, shall we?" Michelle twisted her hand expertly into his arm, avoiding the original intention of his tug towards him.

She is certainly an expert at keeping us on track, he thought with a bemused smirk. "Lead the way."

END