Late Night in the Lounge (backpost)

Posted on Sat Mar 14th, 2026 @ 8:18pm by Lieutenant Rala & Michelle Erilin

Mission: Lower Decks
Location: Deck 3, Lounge
Timeline: A night or two before "The Next Arrival: Tial"

The door to the lounge swished open and a fairly tired-looking Rala walked in, wearing her wine-colored silk tunic and carrying a PADD. She’d had trouble sleeping again, and didn’t want to bother Kally or anyone else on the medical staff at this hour for help, so she’d thrown on something comfortable, grabbed the PADD, and headed for the lounge.

It was ship’s night, so most of the lights in public spaces were slightly dimmed; and the lounge was almost entirely dark, so she almost didn’t notice the other person present.

Michelle had been there since the full-service aspect of the lounge had been closed down, mostly to make sure that everything was set up for the evening. Her late-night helper had come down sick and had let her know almost too late, but that just meant her own day was longer than most. That was the curse of being responsible for the lounge and the like. She was in a silk robe, meaning to go get some sleep afterwards, but cleaning the glasses in the self-service side of the bar was taking much too long.

That's how she saw Starfleet's sole Draakri walk in aimlessly and make her way over to one of the clusters of seats near the window. Sometimes people wanted to be alone, but while she saw Rala's body language tell her that she wanted to be left alone, Michelle's empathic sense told her something completely different. She silently placed this last glass on the bar as the new visitor to the lounge sat down facing the windows and she padded over towards her in the slippers she wore on occasion, "Good evening, Miss, can I interest you in something to drink or to snack on?"

Rala shambled over to one of the roundish overstuffed seats in the corner, facing the windows. She sat, pulling her legs up beside her and curling her tail around them, and brought up a book on her PADD.

Some part of her mind had registered the other person’s presence, but she still wasn’t expecting to be spoken to. “Hm?” she asked, taking longer than usual to refocus on the new interaction. “Sorry, I’m running at about half capacity right now.” She held up a finger to forestall any further comments while she finished processing what had been said. “Um...coffee, please—mocha,” she amended, “straight. Thank you...um...” She squeezed her eyes shut, wracking her partially-functional brain for the girl’s name, “...Melissa, was it?”

"Michelle, but you got the first letter right, which counts for me." She smiled and gently touched Rala's shoulder, "Give me just a minute and I'll bring it over. Can I bring any snacks along with it, or just the mocha?"

“No, thank you,” Rala said, giving her a tired smile before turning back to her book.

Michelle was only a handful of minutes as she made the large mug of the mocha for Rala, putting together a cup of coffee for herself as well before she made her way back over to where the Draakri was curled up and handing the steaming mug over to her, "Mind if I join you? You seem to have a lot on your mind, maybe I can help?"

Rala accepted the mug with mumbled gratitude, then looked up at Michelle as she asked the question, once again taking a second to process it. “Uh...sure,” she said, making a vague gesture toward the cluster of seats hers was part of. “Not sure there’s any help to be had, though,” she continued. “Just a random bout of insomnia. Happens every now and then.” She waved a hand dismissively and took a sip of her beverage. Not quite scalding, just the right degree of bitterness and a hint of something sweet. “Mm. That’s good.” She looked back to Michelle. “Usually either just ride it out in my quarters or head to sickbay for some pharmaceutical assistance. Figured I’d try something different this time.”

"For sleep I wouldn't recommend coffee, but there are several teas that should be compatible with Draakri biology that have soothing properties." Michelle gave a gentle smile, "But I'll be honest, I'm not fully conversant on all of that, but I'm more than willing to learn and help you find some solution. It's all a part of the services that I offer here. Also, if you just need someone for company or just to talk to that won't betray your confidences to anyone, not even Starfleet, because I'm not a part of the Fleet, no matter who my aunt is. The only exception is if you were an actual danger to others, not just yourself."

Rala smiled and shook her head slightly. She tapped one finger to her temple. “Minor neurological condition; slight deficiency in the baseline level of a couple of neurotransmitters,” she explained. “Brain’s constantly looking for stimulus to trigger the release of more of them, which makes focus difficult to control, especially late at night. Mild stimulants like caffeine tend to level me out, and actually make it easier to sleep. And,” she added, “I never did much care for tea.”

Michelle gave a gesture of her own cup to show that she understood the point of that, the smile on her face to tell Rala that there was no offense taken.

She took another sip of her mocha, cradling the mug in her hands. “Honestly," she continued, staring at her drink, "occasional bouts of insomnia are something I’ve dealt with for most of my life. I’m used to them." She glanced up at Michelle. "And pleasant company and conversation are rarely unwelcome.” She smiled again, eyes unfocusing as Michelle’s comments and her own brought to mind the couple of times Calypso had been the source of said pleasant company and conversation—unexpectedly pleasant, if entirely chaste company, so far...and, she thought, the faintest hint of a laugh escaping her snout, slightly less chaste conversation, at least on her part.

Not that Rala had particularly minded. She’d fairly quickly learned—both from personal experience and from the ship’s rumor mill—that that was just how Cally was, particularly in private; and had not only grown accustomed to it, but even found it somewhat appealing, at least in small doses. Ever since that first encounter in the Tikkana tree program, the thought of a full Draakri-style intimate relationship with Calypso had been floating in the back of her mind, gradually getting stronger...but she wasn’t sure she was ready for that yet. Companionship was enough for now.

'I wonder what she's thinking about..' Michelle mused to herself as she felt Rala's mind turning to something that was clearly a pleasurable memory, already settling the other female's mind a fair bit. She'd had another spike when Michelle had mentioned her aunt previously, but that could have been anything. "I presume that you have been fitting in well on board the ship?"

Rala looked up at Michelle, refocusing on the present. “Better than I’d hoped for, really, especially after the Thunderchild.” Her expression hardened for an instant before turning thoughtful once more as she sipped at her coffee, then continued, “I’ve found some remarkable similarities with multiple aspects of Draakri culture that I knew of but never expected to be part of.”

Her mind brushed against the thought of her homeworld’s nomadic-stranger sathirri clans once again before coming back to the Chimera and her newly-found kinatra—that word the translator kept rendering as ‘family’ to her annoyance, that meant those people one trusted and cared for more deeply than a casual friend or acquaintance, regardless of the presence or absence of any blood relation. For her, it was centered around Calypso and the Kellerman twins, with Rebecca and a handful of others connected through those three, more-direct bonds seeming to form and strengthen every time she had more than a passing interaction with them.

She set her PADD aside and shifted in her seat slightly to get a bit more comfortable, tail curled across her ankles on the seat beside her, then up and back across her waist, the last half-meter slowly swishing back and forth like a cat’s. “The Chimera is...well, it feels like home, even more than Draakrona ever did.”

"I can understand that completely." Michelle smiled over at Rala, glancing out the window, "I grew on Jovash, a dirt poor world halfway on the edge of nowhere, along after my mother died oh.. Ten years ago. I thought I'd found a home out there after a while and a lot of hard and sometimes degrading work, but after I sneaked on board Chimera under pretense, I found a home here as well. I know that my aunt won't let me go anywhere else, not willingly at least, because of who my father was. But I wouldn't want to be anywhere else, even if I wish my aunt would open up more. It's painful to feel her all closed up inside."

Rala’s lips parted as she started to object to the idea of Calypso being ‘closed up’, but she stopped herself. She closed her mouth and frowned. She’d met people who concealed unpleasant thoughts behind a friendly, outgoing exterior—although none of them had done so with quite the same behavior Cally had displayed. Such cases always made her sad when she learned of them, and the thought that Cally might be hiding some hurt like that pained her. And, of course, Michelle certainly knew her better than Rala did, between being family, living on this ship together, and Michelle’s own empathic abilities...

“Wait,” she said, looking up at Michelle as a thought leapt to mind, “clarify. Are you just talking about how she avoids using her mental abilities, or...?” She trailed off, reluctant to voice the rest of her thoughts. One of her free hands came up to her chest, fingers resting lightly against her sternum.

"Primarily, yes. I'm only a half-Betazoid, so I can only imagine just how integral to a full-blood that their empathic and telepathic abilities can be to them. Calypso has everyone cut off as if by armor plate and the only thing I can say is that she's a rather strong telepath to be able to completely keep everyone out." Michelle gave a sad smile, "I know part of it, of course, but there's more to it than she lets on."

Even in the dim light, it wouldn’t take an empath to see that Rala found that confirmation distressing. She let out a breath in a soft sigh, ears and shoulders drooping slightly. It was several seconds before she spoke again. “That’s...sad to hear. I always hate seeing people in pain, especially those who—” She stopped, not quite sure she was ready to put voice to that feeling in front of anyone else, least of all Calypso’s niece; before realizing that said niece was an active empath and had likely already figured it out anyway. “Who I care for,” she finished the thought. “And it can be even worse knowing the pain is there but being unable to see it because they’ve buried it.”

Michelle reached out and touched Rala on the arm, "Have you asked her about it? One thing I can tell you about Calypso Skyie is that she doesn't hide who or what she is from people she trusts." The 23 year old turned in her seat slightly, "As I said, I cannot, will not give anyone's secrets or personal information away to anyone else, even if it's common knowledge. Even still, she's very open about her experiences because they are a core part of who she is."

“How would I have known to ask?” Rala asked, looking more directly at Michelle for a moment. “She’s told me I’m comparatively difficult to read; well, for me, even after over half a decade living among you all, I still have trouble reading humanoids sometimes. You lack so many of the nuances of expression I’m wired to read in other Draakri.” Her ears twitched, and her tail shifted slightly. “And when someone’s been masking a hurt for long enough, it gets even harder to spot, no matter who’s looking—unless you happen to have, as she puts it, a way to ‘cheat’, which I don’t.”

She’d started to look away again, but glanced back to Michelle, saying, “I do respect you not sharing secrets that aren’t yours to share, by the way; I try to do the same.” She sighed, taking another sip of her drink and turning to the windows again, although she didn’t seem to actually be looking at anything in particular. “You say it’s common knowledge, but I only skimmed her personnel file—the parts of it I had access to—and believe it or not, it hasn’t come to me, as the crew likes to say, ‘through the grapevine’.” She paused, thinking, for several seconds before deciding, “I’ll bring it up, eventually. Don’t know when. Maybe it’ll come up naturally at some point.”

“You may be surprised how humans and many other humanoids hide what they’re feeling through a facade, though as I said, she doesn’t hide it.” Michelle made a vague gesture but had a sly smile, “But if I may point out your own feelings? You’re clearly caught up on the Captain, even if you don’t want to tell her outright. And if I’m right, it isn’t just her. But, that’s none of my business and I’m not going to pry. Still, while she’s open about her past and herself, she also doesn’t won’t go out and shout it around the ship. Get her talking about flying shuttles and she’ll probably mention that she used to. Ask her why she doesn’t fly much anymore and she’ll spill it, but she’ll grow sad before trying to cover it up.”

“That’s basically what I meant;” Rala said, “not necessarily hiding the cause—although that can be part of it in some cases—but hiding the effect, the hurt.” She shook her head, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “Maybe she’s dealt with it, to whatever extent that’s possible in this case. But if the cause is some trauma in her past, and that’s why she avoids using her abilities...that suggests to me that there’s still some healing left to do.”

She sighed again. “But then, what do I know? Some Draakri are telepaths, and I’ve known a few of them, but I’m not one of them, so I’m just guessing. I hope she’s better off than I fear she is.” She looked up at Michelle again.

"She isn't, though she'll pretend very convincingly that she's managing." Michelle said quietly, "She has her coping mechanisms so I'm not worried about her sanity or capabilities, but those have their limits. When she reaches them?" She shrugged.

“Like I said, I care for her. And no, she’s not the only one.” She sipped at her mocha again, gathering her thoughts. “This feeling,” she began, using one hand to gesture at Michelle, then toward her own face, before finally touching her fingers to her sternum in invitation as she closed her eyes and deliberately conjured the feeling of ‘home’ she felt in regards to the Chimera and her crew in general; then focused in further on the feeling of kinatra, that blend of ‘friend’, ‘family’, ‘trust’, and ‘companionship’ that was so difficult to translate, and the web of kinatra connections she felt, focusing on the few strong nodes near its center, and how they seemed to be growing.

Michelle had closed her eyes at the gesture, to feel what Rala had mentioned to her, then nodded as she felt the emotions rolling off of the Draakri. It was a rather unfamiliar feeling to the half-Betazoid, but one that she could understand entirely. She'd had it when she had finally met her aunt as her aunt, not just another person on board. "I see."

“This is what I feel for her,” she said, opening her eyes and looking at Michelle again briefly before she looked slightly away once more, her eyes unfocusing as she did her best to hold that feeling at the forefront of her mind. “And...and for the Kellerman twins,” she said, electing to trust Michelle with that knowledge, “and to gradually lesser degrees for several others here, all connected in a kind of web. And when one is hurting,” she envisioned a needle poking one of the nodes, and the entire web trembling in response, “it affects the rest.” She let the conjured feeling fade back to its natural state. “So you can understand why I’m concerned.”

She shifted in her seat again, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. “But that’s a concern for another time,” she said, a wry smile touching her face, “when I’m properly rested and not letting my emotions run quite so freely wherever they please.”

Michelle leaned forward and reached up to cup Rala's cheek for a moment, "But this is the perfect time to talk about them." She said with a very soft smile, "Far too many people hide their emotions when they believe they're going to do harm to themselves or others, it's when their control is frayed that the truth comes out unvarnished." She released her hand from the face and let it drop back into her lap, "It's when someone can be the most honest with themselves."

Rala closed her eyes as Michelle cupped her cheek, leaning into the touch ever so slightly. If only... She let out a breath, banishing the thought as Michelle withdrew her hand. “It’s also when they’re the most vulnerable, which puts some people on edge. I...try not to be one of them, but...well,” her wry smile returned, “I wasn’t really expecting a therapy session along with my insomnia.”

"I'm not sure you could really call this a therapy session," Michelle chuckled, "Just someone who has seen a lot in just a little time and cares about everyone on this ship. Mostly, I'm just here to talk to people, comfort them, sometimes even to be what they want me to be for them."

Rala gave a soft chuckle and drained her beverage. “I wasn’t really expecting company here tonight,” she said, “nor conversation—let alone the conversation we had. But...” She pondered the inside of her empty mug for a moment. “...I think it’s probably good that it happened.” She glanced up at Michelle again before returning her gaze to the mug. “The conversation in particular, I mean. Although...I think I needed the company, too.”

“And that is precisely what I’m here for.” Michelle placed a hand on her own throat where a necklace of a Celtic looking design made up of several different metals, one at each ‘spoke’. “I want you to know that I’m available any time, any day, barring a previous appointment, but you can leave a message if that’s the case and I’ll get back to you at the earliest opportunity.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” Rala said, smiling again as she glanced back to Michelle, noticing her necklace for the first time. She leaned forward for a better look in the dim light. “That’s pretty. Does it have any special meaning?”

Michelle leaned forward and brought the necklace closer, “It’s one of the Guild requirements. Each sub design and metal indicates a service I am proficient in and my level of proficiency in it.” The necklace showed nearly twenty separate designs, “I’m a Registered Courtesan, you see, on Jovash there were mines, farm fields, dockyard labor and the ‘service industry,’ both legal and illegal. When you’re a thirteen year old girl on your own, your options really are limited, so I joined the Guild and went through a rather intense training program. For example, one course was on business economics, with others on massage, table games, card games, mixology of drinks, cooking,” Michelle indicated each design as she named it, “Among many others, including yes, the sexual arts. Most people associate R-Cs with prostitution, which is technically one use that we get hired for, but you would be surprised how often I’ve been contracted for sex and it doesn’t happen. People don’t always realize that sometimes they just want company and someone who will listen or just talk to them.”

Rala peered at the necklace as Michelle spoke, following as she indicated the different aspects; but couldn’t shake the thought of someone so young being on their own, let alone finding what seemed to be such a grueling profession to be their only option. She hesitated to voice the feeling, since Michelle seemed to have come through with flying colors, but her heart went out to the other woman regardless. She sat back, ultimately saying simply, “That doesn’t sound like an easy life.”

“Oh please,” Michelle smiled widely, “I got the best option I could have taken, yes, but what I do has been seriously misrepresented as being a whore or a hooker.” She leaned back in the chair, hands on the arms, “Joining the Guild gave me protections that I couldn’t have had in one of the other jobs and they prevent members from being being abused or trafficked, plus teaching all of us the tools we need to survive in the galaxy. Of course being an R-C isn’t for everyone, but honestly, Rala, I enjoy what I do. I don’t regret anything in my life whatsoever. I get to choose my own work schedule, I get to take or refuse clients without repercussions, and I also get to meet amazing new people. Quite frankly, this is an easy life, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything, not even a place in Starfleet.”

Rala shook her head. “Not what I meant,” she said. “I meant before. It certainly seems like you’ve come through the storm the better for it, but that doesn’t strike me as a starting point I’d wish on anyone, and I don’t imagine the course from there to here was entirely an easy one.”

"I wouldn't wish what I went through as a starting point either, though I'll happily recruit any who went through it or is going through it to the Guild." Michelle stated with complete honesty, "If only to protect them, though I know that can sound strange. Sleeping with others, giving them sexual pleasure? It really isn't for everyone, not even all R-Cs, and the Guild will never force one to do it, even if they choose to stop doing it." She quirked a smile, "But seriously, don't feel sorry for me, don't feel that sadness about what my early life was like, because I don't."

Michelle leaned forward again and captured one of Rala's hands in her own soft ones, "Every experience we have shapes us to who we are today. To dwell upon the past is lose yourself to who you were before who you are. I don't. I would rather live in the present among people I love, to go forward into the future with my eyes open."

Rala let her thumb idly brush back and forth against the back of one of the soft hands that held hers. “A good philosophy,” she said, offering the young woman a smile. She looked away after a second or two, shaking her head bemusedly and letting out a soft snort of laughter. “Negative thoughts seem...I dunno, stickier, late at night. Hard to avoid, and harder to get away from. And the insomnia sure doesn’t help.” She glanced back at Michelle. “Pleasant company does, though; at least sometimes.”

“As do other distractions.” Michelle agreed, “Some people can’t sleep because their mind is too busy,” She raised one hand as if it were balancing a weight, then the other, “Some people because it’s too still. What we need to do is find what balances you out so that you can sleep peacefully.” The young half-Betazoid smiled, “If you’ll trust me for a few minutes? Close your eyes and think of what the worst thing possible is. You don’t have to speak it aloud, just ruminate on it.” Michelle knew she was about to delve into a realm where she had only studied, never put into practice.

Rala hesitated, unsure where Michelle was going with her request, but after a few seconds, she gave a slight nod and turned inward, opening a heavy black door in her mind that she kept locked as much as possible.

Death was inside. The cessation of existence. The end of being, of learning, of experiencing.

Loneliness was there too. Lack of connection. The inability to share with others.

And where the two met, they swirled together into a singularity of despair: Dying alone, with no others present to even mark her passing.

She kept the door open for only a few seconds before slamming it shut again, locking it securely as she curled up on herself in her chair, tears stinging her eyes.

The emotions that fed into Rala’s mind almost seemed to jump and strike at Michelle as she too closed her eyes to just watch over Rala’s emotional state. She couldn’t see what the Draakri was seeing or experiencing, but the fear and then despair beat at her relentlessly as she maintained the link. Her eyes blinked open as she reached out again to touch Rala on the shoulder, "I'm sorry.. I really didn't mean to put you through that much.."

Michelle inhaled in a controlled manner, “Now, put your thoughts to the opposite, what is your ideal? What would you wish for with the entirety of your heart if you could? Still, don’t have to say anything if you don’t wish to.” Her voice was calm and soothing.

Rala wiped her eyes and took a few uneven breaths to calm herself before looking inward again, finding another door. This one was white, with ornate, gleaming gold filigree, and despite being in a similarly shaded corner of her mind as the other one, seemed to shine faintly with its own light. It was never locked, nor even had a rigid latch, relying on simple gravity to remain closed, although a heavy bar sat nearby, gathering dust. Every now and then a breeze from the other side would nudge it open, letting blinding light from a distant but impossibly bright source spill through momentarily before it swung closed again.

As she approached the door, she noticed a difference: It wasn’t quite fully closed; a tiny sliver of light peeked through the barest of cracks. She pulled the door open and blinked, squinting against the light within as the patterns it cast took familiar shapes.

Herself, surrounded by vague shapes of cast light that she knew represented the kinatra she’d always longed for; relaxing, learning, sharing, doing, experiencing, living together.

She almost didn’t notice that some of the shapes were more defined than they had previously been, beginning to take on familiar forms—forms reminiscent of some of the Chimera’s crew.

She remained standing in that open doorway for much longer than the other, basking in the warm light from a source that no longer seemed quite so distant, before she gently closed it, leaving the bare sliver of light peeking through as she returned her awareness to her physical body. She shifted in her seat slightly, remaining curled up, but less now to keep out the darkness as to keep in the warmth of that light, a faint smile on her face.

This time it was a warm feeling and Michelle understood the feelings of recognition and feeling of family. While some of it was tinged with a bit of longing that indicated they were far away, there were other bits of that recognition that felt much closer, feelings of people that were immediately present although none of those tendrils were linked to her. Then the thought hit her that she had no idea what she was doing, she was using this woman as an experiment and the fact that she was willing to do it was... Difficult. Michelle broke the connection she'd made with deliberate suddenness and smiled at Rala, "Thank you for trusting me, Rala."

For an instant, Rala almost thought she’d felt something coming from Michelle. Her eyes opened, blinking away the remnants of her tears, but the sensation was gone. Must have imagined it, she thought; it’s really late and I haven’t slept. She looked at Michelle without turning her head, studying her face. “You’re welcome, but...I get the impression you were looking for something, and you didn’t find it,” she said.

Michelle's face suddenly turned into a soft smile from the worried look it had the moment before, "I... Thought I knew what I was doing, sensing emotions and interpreting what I was feeling to something that could help you, but." She stopped, not sure what else to say, "I felt what you were feeling and it didn't come together.. I'm sorry."

Rala returned the smile in kind. “I appreciate the attempt, regardless,” she said. “And don’t feel too bad about asking me to dig up my fears. They catch me by surprise sometimes anyway; at least this time I was ready for them.” She felt loneliness clawing at that black door, and tilted her head, thinking back to her earlier attempt to sleep, examining what she’d been thinking and feeling while lying in bed staring at nothing.

Empty, she realized. The bed had felt too empty.

Examining that thought further, she realized that her beds had felt too empty for a long time, at least since Draakrona, and it had gradually been bothering her more the more time had passed.

Returning her attention to Michelle, Rala said, “You may actually have helped after all.”

"Really?" Michelle asked, "I'm glad I was able to something for you, it really doesn't that way to me."

Rala nodded. “I think...I’m tired of sleeping alone,” she said. “At least, I think that’s why I couldn’t sleep tonight. On Draakrona, sleeping alone for any reason is the exception—hardly unheard of, but uncommon. Here in the Federation? It seems to be the opposite. The simple presence of another warm body...” She shivered, even though the air in the lounge wasn’t that cold. “...I miss it.”

"That's something I can help with, if you would like." Michelle gave a warm smile, "I've got no appointments scheduled for the rest of the night and I could join you for it if you so desire."

Rala looked at her, considering. The young woman wouldn’t have been her first choice to share a bed with—the thought of curling up, even back-to-back, with Calypso or one of the Kellermans, and waking up with them still there, had become a fairly common one over the last few months—but also because tonight’s conversation was the first proper interaction she’d had with the young half-Betazoid.

On the other hand, she’d been nothing but friendly, polite, and helpful—it may have come in a roundabout way, but she’d tried and technically succeeded—and, well, she was here, and she was offering.

She gave a slight nod, as much to herself as to the other woman. She stood, retrieving the PADD she’d brought with her, and held out a hand to Michelle, her voice taking on a half-joking professional tone as she said, “Michelle, if you don’t mind, I believe I could use some company in my quarters tonight.”

Michelle's fingers alighted onto Rala's hand as she used the assist to gracefully rise from the chair she sat in, leaving her cup behind, "Your wish is granted." She said silkily, choosing not to formalize this with a written contract. Those hadn't been required on board Chimera, with only two exceptions, but she had a good feel for those that were needed at the time. Rala? She was a soul in need of just company and comfort, that she could do without any issue whatsoever.