The Whisky Dissolution

Posted on Thu Sep 14th, 2023 @ 6:28pm by Lieutenant Commander Sydney Reid

1,377 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Short Treks
Location: Deck 3 - LCDR Reid's Quarter's
Timeline: "First Contact" - 3 Days Prior (Late Evening)
Tags: Personal Log

[Deck 3 - LCDR Reid's Quarter's]
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Having to steady herself momentarily on the door jam to her quarters, Sydney had enough sense in her drunken stupor to lock the door behind her before falling forward onto the sofa in the small, main living area. Tilting her head up to look through her brows at the door leading to her bedroom, she wasn't sure she could make it, and thus resigned herself to laying face-down on the cushion for a moment. "So this is how the Commander feels every night?" she pondered, albeit out loud, though luckily no one would hear her.

Finding the position uncomfortable after a few minutes, the woman rolled over to rock back and forth momentarily as she settled into a comfortable position; with her legs draped over one arm of the sofa and her head almost pressing against the other. Staring up at the blank ceiling, the Operations Officer was left alone in her quarters with only her thoughts to keep her company…And the comments the Computer Systems Specialist had made to her during their imbibing of contraband whisky.

Sighing heavily, Sydney called out through hazy words, "Computer. Start Recording a Personal Log." The acknowledgment from the Computer seemed almost muted to the officer.

"Personal Log Lieutenant Commander Sydney Reid, Chief Operations Officer of the U.S.S. Intrepid. Stardate…Computer, add the Stardate for me." The Computer only emitted a small chime in acknowledgment this time, which somehow seemed louder to the woman than when it had responded vocally to her.

"I…I don't know what I'm doing with all of my time. I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing as the Chief Operations Officer. Probably because of all of the schooling, I achieved a post in five years that takes some years to accomplish. I don't really know how, nor why, but this is where I find myself…on this sofa…questioning who thought it was a good idea to put the 'Computer Doctor' in charge of all of these responsibilities on this itty bitty ship.

"...Okay…Maybe not so itty bitty, but still a lot smaller than the Cerberus or the Starfinder. Everyone is rushing around, always asking me 'Where should I go?', 'What do you want me to do?', 'Can I have this allocation?', or '...this time slot?' and I just want to sometimes cover my ears and tell them to go away, but I know I can't. That's not what a Chief is supposed to do.

"You know, I only served as an Assistant for, like, MAAaayyybeee a year before they transferred me here. I know everyone said I deserved it and could handle it and would be a natural, but there's nothing 'natural' about it. Let's be honest: I only got my promotions because I was too old to be turned into a Borg Drone and got lucky enough to lock myself in just the right room with just the right set of skills to lockdown enough of the ship to keep us all from killing so many.

"I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be a Chief. I should still be a Lieutenant serving in the bowls of a ship on the edge of Romulan or Klingon or Cardassian Space or something. I should be spending my days bored out of my mind, allowing the subroutines to do all the work while I fiddle with whatever dumb project I am working on. Instead, I've been trying to squeeze my personal projects into what little time I have left after acting like Chief of Operations…

"I…I didn't realize how busy I would be or how much time I was wasting or how dumb I was being until just now. Why did I accept the promotion? Why did I accept the position? I knew I wasn't ready. I knew I didn't really want it, but I wasn't gonna turn it down. It wasn't the kind of thing a smart person turns down. Papa would've been so disappointed…"

Pausing to inhale and release a heavy breath, Sydney could feel her stomach doing somersaults from the alcohol sloshing within it. "...I shouldn't have drank so much," she slightly groaned as her hands cradled her middle. "I shouldn't say anything about it to anyone. N'Vara would be So Mad at me if I did. I know she shouldn't have it. I don't even know where she would have gotten it. I can't really say nothing with how I know Lorut is basically doing the same thing. If the 'X.O.' can get away with it, why should I care?"

Huffing a breath before pushing herself up to turn and sit almost properly on the sofa, Sydney's hazy gaze came to rest on the desk across the narrow room from her before it shifted to her bedroom door. "...I don't, really. I'm doing the same thing as her. She's fine every day and seems to be able to do her job, so why can't I? If the Commander can maintain a functional drinking habit, why can't I just enjoy one night of this?

"...I want a shower," she decided suddenly before forcing herself up off the sofa and nearly stumbling into the bulkhead as the inner door swished open upon her approach. Sydney left her jacket on the floor of the main living area and tossed her top beside her bed after peeling it off her torso. Tripping over as she attempted to manage the removal of her shoes, the woman took a seat on the floor with her back against the wall as she messily unlaced and tossed her replicated 'Chucks' asunder.

Crawling up the wall, Sydney rested her shoulder against it as she fuddled with the buckle of her belt to finally release herself from its restraint. Dropping the belt, the fit of the jeans didn't let them fall much further than her mid-thigh as the denim clung to her flesh. Struggling and grunting as she stepped and pulled and peeled them from off around her ankles, Sydney grunted in defiance of the jeans as she tossed them towards her bed, uncaring where they ultimately ended up.

It was about this time that the Computer was the responsible one in her quarters and asked her if she wanted to continue to Personal Log. Seemingly surprised by the Computer's voice and the reminder of what she was doing, she let out a quick, "Huh?" before answering, "No…No. Computer, End Personal Log." Blabbering something in response to whatever question the Computer had asked her afterward, the woman focused her attention on discarding what was left of her clothing and stepping into the shower.

If there was one thing she Did appreciate about being a Department Head, it was the access to a real shower that offered real water as opposed to only the option for the sonic variety. As the preset temperature water hit her bare skin and washed over her flesh, Sydney let out a shuddering moan at the wet warmth it provided her. She wouldn't know until the next day, but the Ops Chief was going to run out of water allowance before she was completely sated, thus requiring her to enter an override to allow it to continue until her fingertips had just started to get pruney.

The shower, while relaxing and refreshing, only seemed to delay and at the same time intensify the effects of the whisky she'd been imbibing less than an hour earlier. Wrapping her hair in one towel before wrapping her body in another, Sydney only made it to the foot of her bed before allowing herself to fall forward onto it. Within moments she blacked out and was left snoring and drooling a small puddle she would find her face settled in in the morning. She had no clue of the headache she would have or the true extent of her hangover. She wasn't a 'pro' like Lorut…

 

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