Posted by Lieutenant Commander Alex Becket (Executive Officer) in major side sim - Mess Hall: Time off from work

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Alex Becket (Executive Officer) in major side sim - Mess Hall: Time off from work

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Alex Becket (Executive Officer) in major side sim - Mess Hall: Time off from work
The Mess Hall of the USS Ark Angel hummed with quiet energy as the evening rotation came off duty. The scent of replicated raktajino mingled with Bajoran spice stew, drifting lazily through the air. For once, the ship wasn’t vibrating from warp maneuvers or the shudder of evasive action—just the subtle heartbeat of the engines beneath the deck. Lieutenant Commander Alex Becket leaned against the counter, a steaming mug in hand, content to simply observe. Moments like this were rare in deep space: quiet, ordinary, human.

He’d spent the last twelve hours coordinating a power distribution overhaul after a plasma relay malfunction in engineering. His uniform jacket was still undone, sleeves rolled halfway up, but the tension in his shoulders had finally eased. Around him, the crew had settled into their own rhythms—laughter, soft music, and the clink of utensils on trays. There was no hierarchy here tonight; it was a room full of people who’d survived another day together.

Near the far table, NE Ensign Juno Marks was telling a story about her first away mission, using exaggerated hand gestures to describe being chased by a Klingon targswarm. Across from her, a pair of science officers laughed so hard one nearly spilled his drink. “You didn’t actually run, did you?” one teased. “Sir,” NE Juno said dramatically, “when a Klingon targ decides you’re the threat, you run faster than warp nine.” The laughter that followed rippled through the room.

Becket smiled faintly as he took a seat by the viewport. The Ark Angel drifted past a field of faint blue gas, illuminated by the nearby pulsar. The glow washed through the Mess Hall, painting everyone in shifting light. For a moment, Becket forgot about status reports, maintenance logs, or the endless bureaucracy of command. Out here, among his crew, it was enough just to exist.

Across from him, NE Lieutenant Varran—a quiet Tellarite engineer—sat down with a tray carrying what looked like replicated lasagna. “Commander,” NE Varran grunted, “you ever wonder why humans eat things that look… like this?” Becket chuckled. “Because it tastes better than plasma coolant.” NE Varran grinned, tusks catching the light. “Debatable.” The two fell into easy conversation about warp field harmonics and the strange joys of real food versus replicated recipes.

At another table, the ship’s doctor, NE Lieutenant Mira Solan, was hosting what had become known as “Trivia Night.” Crew members gathered around, tossing out questions about galactic history and starship design. The stakes were always the same—replicator credit wagers and the occasional embarrassing dare. “Name the first vessel to breach the subspace barrier,” NE Solan challenged. Becket, overhearing, couldn’t resist calling out from across the room. “Enterprise NX-01, and if you’re giving away dessert rations, I’ll take chocolate.”

The laughter came easily after that. It rolled through the room, soft and real, cutting through the cold void that surrounded the Ark Angel. Even the replicator seemed to hum a bit brighter, serving up drinks and snacks as though it, too, enjoyed the company. Becket leaned back, watching his officers interact, feeling that sense of quiet pride every commander knows—the pride of seeing their crew become a family.

As the ship’s chronometer shifted to the night cycle, the lights dimmed to a soft amber glow. Outside, the stars elongated slightly as the Ark Angel slipped back into warp. The hum deepened, steady and strong. For a ship that had seen its share of battle scars and near misses, this calm was sacred. Becket let the silence settle, feeling the rhythm of the ship align with the slow, steady beat of his heart.

One by one, the crew began to drift out, voices fading into the corridor. NE Varran offered a brief nod before returning to Engineering for the midnight systems check. NE Solan collected the trivia cards and dimmed the mess hall’s central console. Becket was the last to remain, staring out into the streaking stars. It was a commander’s quiet reward—to see his crew safe, laughing, and alive.

Finishing his coffee, Becket stood and took a deep breath. The Ark Angel continued its journey through the endless dark, her crew resting for whatever tomorrow would bring. As he left the Mess Hall, he couldn’t help but smile. There would be more crises, more damage reports, and more long shifts—but tonight, the ship had peace. And in the deep reaches of the galaxy, that was worth more than anything.

Lieutenant Commander Alex Becket
Executive Officer
U.S.S. Ark Angel

Bump

Lieutenant Commander Alex Becket
Executive Officer
U.S.S. Ark Angel

Bump

Lieutenant Commander Alex Becket
Executive Officer
U.S.S. Ark Angel

Ciaran walked into mess hall after a long shift at work. He was more than ready for something to eat so he walked up to the bar and took a seat.

Capt. Donoghuei
Commanding Officer