Posted by Ensign Buddy Cullum (Security Officer) in Side Sim: Downtime - 18 Forward - Buddy and the Breen
Buddy had kicked his boots up on the edge of the low table, one arm slung over the back of the lounge couch like he was holding court. A half-empty glass of synthehol fizzed gently in his grip—something neon and citrusy that Ree’za had dared him to order. The other members of Buddy and the Breen were scattered nearby like the remains of a musical explosion: Jax drumming the edge of his seat with a pair of replicated chopsticks, T’Lex cross-legged with a glass of Vulcan mineral water (untouched), and Ree’za currently trying to balance a peanut on her nose.

She was winning.

The band was laughing—loud, unfiltered, slightly disruptive to the otherwise mellow vibe of 18 Forward. A few tables away, a pair of junior officers watched them over the tops of their drinks, whispering behind their hands.

“…I’m just saying,” Jax was insisting, “if we play that third verse at warp nine, the crowd will go into cardiac arrest. And that’s the kind of memorable performance I’m aiming for.”

“Bolian medical liability clauses do not cover rhythmic aneurysms,” T’Lex replied without looking up.

Ree’za let the peanut fall off her nose and into her mouth without blinking. “Maybe you don’t want a mosh pit in zero-G, but some of us have vision.”

Buddy just grinned and shook his head. “You’re all insane. I missed this.”

The lounge doors parted with a hiss. A Bolian crewman—young, fresh-faced, ensign redshirt—stepped in with a casual stride. Then he saw them.

He froze.

Eyes widened.

Jaw dropped.

Then he squealed. Like, full-volume, actual squeal—a sound somewhere between a warp core breach and a giddy hypospray malfunction.

“Ohmygod it’s really you it’s them it’s you—BUDDY AND THE BREEN!”

Conversations halted. Glasses stopped mid-air. A few heads turned.

Ree’za blinked. Jax choked on his drink. T’Lex raised a single eyebrow, which for him was practically flailing.

The Bolian bolted forward, clutching a battered PADD. “I have your whole album downloaded—twice, just in case one corrupts—please will you sign it? All of you? I named my pet sehlat ‘Chicken à la Rage’—please—”

Buddy, caught mid-sip, glanced at his bandmates and tried very hard not to laugh. His smile broke through anyway, wide and genuine.

He set down his glass, took the PADD, and leaned in. “What’s your name, crewman?”

The Bolian made a strangled squeak. “Tren! Ensign Tren Dovel! I—this is the best day of my life!”

Ree’za the PADD and signed it with a dramatic flourish, before passing it around. “You’re our first groupie, Tren. Don’t let it go to your head.”

Jax was already teaching him the chopstick drum beat.

Buddy passed the signed PADD back and gestured to the empty seats around them. “Hope you’re not in a rush, Tren. Stick around.”

He glanced around the lounge, then raised his glass toward the other tables.

“And if anyone else wants in… we don’t bite.” He side-eyed Ree’za. “Except her.”

She bared her teeth. T’Lex finally took a sip of his water.

The music wasn’t playing yet, but the vibe was already loud.

Ensign Cullum ●
Security Officer
U.S.S. Ark Angel

Tak stepped into 18-forward, a small ukulele-like instrument hanging from a loose strap and tucked around their back. They gave a curious glance to the security officer and his little band, but focused their efforts on getting to the bar.

Tak being a relatively regular visitor, the bartender had installed a small staircase leading to a higher-than-usual barstool for the diminutive scientist. “A Malibu Sunset, please,” they requested, settling down in their raised barstool and flipping the Tor’she around to start playing a soft and nostalgic melody. There was enough other sounds going on in the lounge that it wasn’t too disruptive, but one of the other science ensigns slid a little closer and started chatting with the pipini while they played.

Ensign Tak
Science Officer USS Ark Angel