Posted by Commander Shara Calloway (Chief Intelligence Officer) in Lounge- Late Night Melodies

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Bethany Kovra Gadi (Chief of Security) in Lounge- Late Night Melodies

Posted by Commander Shara Calloway (Chief Intelligence Officer) in Lounge- Late Night Melodies
Posted by… suppressed (2) by the Post Ghost! 👻
It was well after shift change but plenty of people were still up, including Shara. She knew she was treading a fine line between pushing through and falling apart, but she hadn’t made it to her sixth decade without at least some ability to batten the hatches as it were and get to the other side. She could fall apart later.

That senior staff meeting where their mission was laid out seemed ages ago, but her own words rang though her head. “But the rest of you? I’m not good at asking for help. But I’m asking you right now. I’ve not had a crew in a very long time. I have to remember what’s it like, but last I remember, a crew stands by each other. So, please, help me bring this man home, and help me get back to those I love.” This crew did seem to be coming together but it was a slow process. Much too slow. She didn’t know how to change that.

There was also the reality that they had to stop pretending to be playing at a game, and actually be in the game. She couldn’t make others do this part properly, but Calloway could certainly show them by example. It was time.

Gone was the casual off-duty clothes that left Shara approachable. Her reputation as an Intelligence officer alone made her dangerous, but she wanted her colleagues to feel the reality of that now. The cargo pants or plain trousers she usually favoured were replaced by black faux-leather leggings that stretched over her well toned lower-half. The turtle-necks and t-shirts she wore on top were now a jacket in a pale grey that hugged her lean body and flared out slightly over her hips, the collar encasing her neck. The sides were adorned with fabric manipulation that seemed to resemble ribs.

Dark makeup and her medium-brown hair in a sleek ponytail, she did wear her commbadge. She patted her uniform before hanging it up, stowing her pips. She wouldn’t need them for awhile. Nodding her own approval in the small mirror over her dresser, Shara grabbed her guitar (a striking contrast if ever there was one) and headed out.

The Lounge was not empty, but nor was it busy. She strutted in like she owned the place, picked a corner table and pulled a chair far out. She settled in, pulled out her guitar and, with a pick between her dark red lips, she propped her tall-heeled feet on the table, crossing them at the ankles, and began to tune her guitar. She was well aware of the looks thrown her way and the energy in the tiny lounge changed instantly. Good. She was doing her job right then. The Shara present was not the Shara the other senior staff had seen in the ready room. It was like two vastly different people. Just the way she preferred her ops.

Commander Calloway, CIO

Sara sat at the bar, and noted a person who bore a striking resemblance to the CIO, but carried herself very differently. This person even had a guitar.

-CO

Acutely aware of everyone around her, but outwardly seeming to ignore them all, Shara kept her feet up on the table, her fingers picking at the strings now that the guitar was tuned.One chord, then another before her alto voice began a song, having shifted it down into a more manageable key for herself.

Empty spaces, what are we living for?
Abandoned places, I guess we know the score, on and on
Does anybody know what we are looking for?
Another hero, another mindless crime
Behind the curtain, in the pantomime
Hold the line
Does anybody want to take it anymore?

The show must go on
The show must go on, yeah
Inside my heart is breaking
My makeup may be flaking
But my smile, still, stays on

Whatever happens, I’ll leave it all to chance
Another heartache, another failed romance, on and on
Does anybody know what we are living for?
I guess I’m learning
I must be warmer now
I’ll soon be turning, round the corner now
Outside the dawn is breaking
But inside in the dark I’m aching to be free

The show must go on
The show must go on
Inside my heart is breaking
My makeup may be flaking
But my smile, still, stays on

Rather than continue with the rest of the song, she returned to the guitar only, humming the melody until it came to a close with a final flourish of plucked strings.

OOC: The Show Must Go On by Queen
Commander Calloway, CIO

An unfamiliar woman walked into the lounge. Where had she come from? Part of the station’s work crew maybe? No one seemed to recognize her. She had mousy, dirty blonde hair. It was at one time wavy but it was in need of a good brushing, and tickled the highest part of her shoulder. Her clothes were of good quality at one time, but were now threadbare but still sturdy. Cargo pants that were slightly too big on her, simple shoes that were study and would last awhile, her shirt was tucked into her pants and the whole thing covered by a long sleeved, knee length cardigan. It looked almost like a lab coat, including the deep pockets, except it was loosely knitted with yarn.

The woman kept her gaze down, the hair falling into her face, casting strange shadows across her face, or perhaps they were concealing markings. She skirted the edge of the of the room, eyes darting about, as she went as quickly as she could to the replicator. She gave the singing woman a wide berth, something about her was frightening, and avoided making eye contact with anyone, but especially the officers. She ordered from the replicator so quietly no one heard her, but after the golden lights finished coalescing she gripped a glass of water in both hands and skirting the edge of the room again found a lone chair in the furthest corner to drink.

Unknown Stranger

The newcomer registered on Shara’s senses but she made no outward sign as she quietly plucked, all too aware of eyes on her. Flicking her gaze in the direction of a group of noncoms, she stared at them. “See something interesting?” she said, just loud enough to be heard.

“Uhhh, n-no ma’am.”

She tilted her head. “Save your ma’am for some who gives a crap.” Shara went back to her guitar, nimble fingers plucking the strings, letting herself be in another world, another reality.

The non-coms avoided her gaze and went back to their chattering, though the hushed tones told Shara everything she needed to know and that everything was going rather as expected. She had pondered how far to take this persona, but the reality was that the true answer was that she couldn’t take it far enough. Not for this assignment. Her gaze flicked momentarily to the Captain, and for a brief moment she wished she was a telepath.

Commander Calloway, CIO

Sara chuckled lightly at the intelligence officer messing with the crew’s minds. She caught Shara’s glance and lifted her glass in something of a toast. Sara understood that adopting new personas was a part, not just of Calloway’s field, but the whole ship’s future.

-CO