Danger Zone

Posted on Sun Aug 31st, 2025 @ 7:13pm by Lieutenant F'Arra MD & Captain Natalya Markova

Mission: Lower Decks
Location: USS Chimera | Holodeck
Timeline: During Shoreleave

ON

The holodeck was silent, aside from her breathing, and the sound of wood-on-wood contact. The pillars stood at head-height. Nat moved through the random placement with practiced ease.

The stave in her hands, a length of bamboo wood two meters long snapped with precision at each target. It was one of her ways to try and clear the noise in her mind. Each step, each swing, each contact was a way to help her focus. Focus on the focus on the present. Focus... on the Holodeck door announcing someone.

Nat tried to ignore it. They'd get the idea.

She stepped, swung, and missed as the buzzer sounded again.

Clearly the locked door wasn't getting through.

"End program." The Marine breathed through her teeth. "Arch!"

The simple pole targets dissapeared, and the familiar arch appeared, bringing the door with it. "Discontinue lock-out."

The doors opened with a heavy hydraulic hiss, and of all the people on - or off - the ship Nat did not want to see, Dr. F'Arra walked in.

"The fuck do you want?" She made no efforts to hide her irritation. Not even the barest attempt at being polite.

F'Arra stopped. She took in the workout clothes, the wooden staff. Her golden-yellow eyes calculated the engagement range, and made sure to add an extra half-meter on top, for good measure as she kept her distance. "I came by to see you."

Nat snorted, and moved to where her gym bag sat in a corner. She pulled out a towel and wiped down her face, and neck. "Mandatory exams aren't for another six weeks. I'll ask again. What?"

F'Arra frowned. This was unusual, even for the Marine. "I've been hearing reports. You've been irritable and moody recently. You were distracted while you held the duty watch on the Bridge."

Nat didn't answer. She didn't have an asnwer. Nothing that wasn't a lie, anyway. "I'm not allowed to be grumpy?"

F'Arra took a tentative step forward. "This isn't just your usual gruffbness. It's edging towards post traumatic depression. Have you had any time on Shore-leave?"

Nat threw the towel back into the bag and snatched it up. "What? Down on the planet of surfer dudes, and exhibitionists?" Her voice was bitter. "Yeah. Totally how to relax. Either thundering waves, or tits, dicks, and asses everywhere."

F'Arra's frown deepened. "So you've not been off the ship since-"

"Since I was a stupid bitch? No. I put out something on the system - to see if people wanted to have a pool party on the Holodeck. Might as well have asked for people to run a fucking audit for all the interest it got."

Nat hefted her stave, and made for the door. A furred hand held her shoulder, and Nat glared at the doctor. She considered pushing past, but took a breath. "Spit it out doc,"

"I'm worried about you. You're spiralling. You may not realise it, but you are. It's rough, being out here. No real place to transfer to."

Nat just snorted. "Tell me about it. Back in Fed space? I could have gotten a billet somewhere actually fucking useful. Instead, I get to play Pirate Cop."

F'Arra couldn't argue that one, either. She herself had considered what research post might have been available. Stars and stones, it felt a long, long way from Starbase 614. "I know asking you to talk to Faith is a waste of time. What about Michelle?"

Nat's laugh was a bark of derision. "The Captain's niece? Yeah. There's a back channel I wanna confide in."

F'Arra grew irritated then. She was fighting against a wall, and was starting to get fed up with the stonewalling. "You want me to talk to the Captain?"

"You want to lose the rest of the tail?" It was said before she could stop herself, and Nat held up a hand, closing her eyes. "Too far. Didn't mean that. I've just been running on frustration and caffiene for too long."

F'Arra ignored the fact there wasn't actually a 'sorry.' "Medical order. Stay off the caffiene for 72 hours."

Nat's expression was pure incredulity. "You are joking?"

"72 Hours. Don't make me put it in your record."

At that, Nat relented. "Fine. Fine. I'll switch to decaff for 72 Hours. The come down is gonna suck."

"I can prescribe something mild for the headache."

Nat considered it for a moment, then shook her head. "No. If I have to go into combat, I don't want my system numbed."

F'Arra took her hand from Nat's shoulder, and stepped aside, letting the Marine go.

The doors of the Holodeck opened, and closed, leaving F'Arra alone. "Don't burn yourself down." She muttered to the closed door. "Some of us actually like you."

OFF