Posted by Lieutenant William Hampton (Chief Engineering Officer) in Side Sim- Holodeck- A rare moment of vulnerability

Posted by Captain Zachariah Cobb (Commanding Officer) in Side Sim- Holodeck- A rare moment of vulnerability

Posted by Lieutenant William Hampton (Chief Engineering Officer) in Side Sim- Holodeck- A rare moment of vulnerability
Posted by… suppressed (6) by the Post Ghost! 👻
It was 2100 hours in holodeck 1. The program was an old 21st century bar. While the program had come with a large and bustling crowd, they had all been removed. Every last person, including the bartender, had been canceled. There was no need for a fake man to serve fake drinks, the programmer had his own, and very real, alcohol. There was a single addition to the program, a jukebox which the user had added before running the program. In the center of the bar, among islands of tables and empty seats, sat William Hampton. A bottle of vodka before him, and a full glass in hand. He didn’t normally come to this place, but life had not been fortunate to him as of late. There had been a defective plasma coil that the Chief Engineer had spent all day trying to find and replace. It had been arduous and stressful task, one of many that were beginning to take their toll on the man. On top of that, the Tellarite Starfleet had saddled him with was just a thorn in his side. As if that was not enough, he still had not made a single friend or even met a person he could actually fully trust. Life was simply to frustrating for him to sit in his quarters. He needed to get out and take his mind off his life, if not just for a few fleeting precious moments.

The song playing on the jukebox was a Vic Fontaine song, as Hampton had set them all to play in order. He had seen the program before and loved the music that came with it. The song on was “Here’s to the Losers”. When it came on, William had gone through about half of his bottle. He raised his glass to himself as the song started. “To the losers,” he muttered to himself, before gulping down half the cup. He shook his head as the drink burned his throat. He nearly spit it out, but kept it down. He truly was a loser. No friends, nobody to care for or about, nobody to spend time with, nobody to share life with. He had gone his life being alone, and in most situations he could convince himself it was what he wanted. But after the days he had and the current state of his life, he knew was kidding himself. He desperately wanted to be able to have a friend at his side, someone to confide in and trust, that person simply did not exist.

Hampton thought back to when he had first joined the Leviathan’s crew, how deep down he had been excited to meet people who he hoped would be like him. Instead of kindred spirits though, William had stumbled across mischievous demons. He simply frowned and took another sip of his drink. After several minutes of drinking and pouring the next song came on. “You are nobody until Somebody Loves You.” As the lyrics began to play, anger suddenly welled up with Hampton. He was a nobody, there was not a person who knew him who cared about him. His deeply repressed to have a love in his life swelled to the surface, along with his frustration at being alone. For all his skills, his confidence, his ambitions, his pride. William Hampton deep down knew it was all hollow, he was just as empty as the RTF agents who skulked about the ship. Just in a very different fashion. He stared at his empty glass, and in a sudden impulse of rage stood up and threw it across the room, watching it shatter as it collided with the wall. His open hand that he thrown the glass with curled into a fist, and he slammed it on his table. He was a nobody, and at the rate his life was going, he always would be.

Lt. William Hampton- CE

If the distant sound of glass breaking had caught the passing Captain’s attention, it was the slam of real fist against holographic table that had brought him through the doors.

Inside, the scene could have been plucked from Cobb’s own tormented past, the unknown yet familiar bar inviting only those with nowhere else to go. And while the music might not have been to Zachariah’s own taste, the atmosphere that it painted was achingly, nauseatingly familiar.

What was unexpected, however, was the figure at the bar. Lt Hampton was usually to be found working away on his special projects at these small hours. And yet the circumstances that had brought him here seemed etched indelibly across his face, making him appear in that moment closer to Cobb’s own age than the much younger man he truly was.

Without introduction, Cobb moved to the bar and reached for two glasses then, extracting a pewter hipflask from his breast pocket, he poured a generous measure into each before sliding one over to Hampton.

“Rough night, eh?” Zachariah finally spoke as he brought the glass up to his lips.

• Captain Zachariah Cobb

Casela had been wandering the cooridores, as usual, unable to sleep. She felt the anger, apathy, deep depressive sadness and she recognized it in herself. She followed it to the holodeck. The door wasn’t locked and she walked in. She looked around and saw Cobb and Hampton. She moved to the far end of the bar. “So is this a stag party or is there room for another disenchanted soul?” She sat down on a bar stool and stared at Cobb raising a brow. She knew what he carried and it was perfect for how she was feeling.

She looked over at Hampton. He wasn’t S31 but she understood the man’s apprehension at all the secrets on the ship. “Hampton.” she said in acknowledgement.

Lt Synthi-er, CNS

Hampton looked up as someone entered. Apprehension swelled up within him, but it deflated, as maybe the closest person to a friend he had entered the room. “Captain,” he said with a nod. He watched as Cobb took a seat and passed him a glass. He was about to take it and smile when the door opened again. When Hampton turned and saw Synthi-er taking a seat the color drained from his face. “I’m afraid there is not.” He asserted. Could they not leave him alone for two seconds? He asked himself, could SHE not leave him alone? “I apologize if my unfortunate outburst caught your attention, counselor, but I’ll be quite alright without your assistance.” He didn’t mind telling Cobb his problems, but he would be damned if he was going to let the counselor in on it.

Lt. William Hampton- CE

Casela didn’t say a word. She hadn’t known who was in here. She had made it a point NOT to learn the mental signatures of the crew. But she respected his opinion. She gave Hampton a small salute, did a neat about face and headed back to her wanderings. She wouldn’t want to be around herself either.

Lt. Synthi-er, CNS

The captain displayed no outward reaction to Casela’s arrival and almost immediate departure, although mentally he resolved to check in on her later, in case her feelings had been hurt. Still, he had no quarrel with Hampton eschewing the Counselor’s services and reaching for alcohol instead. Hell, Zachariah had built his entire post-war existence on a similar mantra.

“Women,” he snorted into his glass, at the closing of the holodeck doors, “can’t live with ‘em, can’t…live with ‘em?”

But the engineer needed much more than dated jokes in this moment. He needed a friend. Empathy, kindness, understanding…these were traits long since banished from the personality of Zachariah Cobb. He retained no single drop of care for his own needs and even less for others. And yet, this drain that Hampton threatened to circle was one that could have been built by the captain himself. He could not bear to see another drown in his own wake.

“I know a troubled face when I see one,” he attempted, awkward and yet primal in his sincerity. “What is it, son? What’s happened?”

• Captain Zachariah Cobb

Hampton picked up the glass the captain gave him. “That’s one of my issues sir. I have never known life with a woman before, and I wish I could.” He could already tell the alcohol was making him overly emotional, and he knew that he was probably going to say things he was going to regret. He took a sip of the drink and looked at Cobb. “Nothing is has happened in particular sir, my life just sucks and I hate it.” He downed the rest of the glass. “I have no friends and I am always alone. It’s a wretched way to live.”

Lt. William Hampton-CE

Cobb nodded a “hmph” to signify that the Lieutenant’s words had been heard and registered. But in the immediate aftermath he offered no verbal reply, only stared silently into his glass, as if somewhere within that rich, amber liquid, he could uncover every answer to life’s myriad questions. But it was not answers that Zachariah Cobb was searching for within those depths. It was memories. And the courage to revisit them anew.

“I was thirty-one when I met my wife,” he offered eventually, his eyes never leaving the whiskey as the glass danced within his hand. “And I was thirty-three when she left me and took my boy with her. Oh, I’d never expected it to last. I’d lost the ability to care around the same time as I lost the ability to win a battle. I came home from that war a shell of a man and she too gentle and too fragile to fill me again.”

He snorted dryly and drained his measure then poured another from the flask before sliding it over to Hampton. But in his mind, that day was repeating with the agonising clarity of the present. Anastasia crying, begging for him to talk to her, to look at her, to tear himself from his work and his study for five minutes. His boy crying too, an overspill of his mother’s tears and an indictment of this stranger who had destroyed her. And Zachariah Cobb could spare her not even a single glance, a single kind word or smile, as she released that final, desperate scream and then gathered her bags, gathered her child, and fled, wailing, into the night.

He never tried to find her again.

“Some of us are just meant to be alone,” he shrugged. “And who’s to say there’s aught wrong with a little solitude, at any rate?”

Damn it! He had sworn not to do this. A life capsized by loneliness was no justification for dragging another to his depths. Hampton had youth on his side, still. Had time and intelligence and wit. And perhaps, until he’d made the mistake of sharing a bottle with his captain, he’d also had hope, transient though it might be.

“Don’t listen to me,” Cobb roared. “I’m just a miserable, bitter old man!” Then, tearing his eyes from the glass and for the first time truly studying the engineer, Zachariah attempted to lighten his tone somewhat as he asked, “Is there no-one on this ship you’ve enjoyed spending time with? They’re not all of them as bad as they might first appear.”

• Captain Zachariah Cobb

Hampton looked at his glass. “There is nothing wrong with a little bit of solitude, or even a lot, but there is something wrong with infinite solitude.” He looked up at Cobb, “Which right now is my life.” He saw Cobb’s face become reflective and the Captain looked like he was trying to remember something. After a few moments Cobb’s outburst happened, and Hampton was momentarily taken aback. Apparently Cobb has his own demons as well. Hampton scolded himself, of course he did, everyone on this ship each had a private little demon inside. “Sir,” Hampton replied, “I’d take bitter and old over shady and young any day of the week.”

He poured himself another round of vodka, nearly emptying the bottle. “Not particularly,” He responded to Cobb’s final question. “Nobody shares my personality, interest, or sense of right and wrong. Even if they did, I have no way of knowing, since deception seems to be everyone else’s private hobby on this ship. He looked at his glass, proper drunk. “I just want someone to love.” He sputtered out.

Lt. William Hampton- CE

“Aye, love can indeed be a fine and glorious thing,” Zachariah conceded, his mind now shifting forwards in time to Shamera. And then to Prim. “But for all of the effort we expend in locating it, once its within our grasp we’re forever afraid of losing it again. And to live in fear is no way to live at all.”

From somewhere deep within the cavernous, echoing recesses of Cobb’s mind, a tiny thought was crying out for attention. And as the old man continued to listen, it grew louder and more insistent. It expanded from a mere suggestion to something very nearly resembling a plan. His eyes still on Hampton, Cobb rose up from his seat and began to pace the holodeck floor. Gone was the melancholic, mournful shambles of a man from moments ago, replaced by one almost brimming over with determination and cunning.

“Love is a war, son,” he declared at the engineer. “And if it’s a war you intend to win, then you first must be prepared. No more moping around on the holodeck like some bloody teenager, eh? If you want the attention of the ladies, or the men, on this ship, then you damned well have to earn it! Straighten your uniform. Lift up your head. For the sake of all the gods run a comb through your hair. Then walk down that corridor like you’re the most striking creation in the four quadrants.”

His pacing halted momentarily, the captain reached for his glass and raised it to the other. “We get their attention first. And then we’ll work on you keeping it. Now how does that sound, eh?”

Hampton could be mistaken, having consumed an impressive amount of vodka already, but in that moment, it sounded almost as if the captain was offering to be his wingman!

• Captain Zachariah Cobb