Randy had created a distraction and she was going to use it. Except the CoS and the CMO were both still watching her. Why couldn’t they just ignore her like everyone else? She pulled a chain from under her shirt, it held a small, delicate watch face. 1800 hours. Perfect. She turned, setting her glass on the table behind her, caught Randy’s eye and made for the exit.
En Rand, Yeoman

Ford watched her leave, not quite a rush, but with a purpose. He downed the rest of the grape juice, again thanking Randy, and set the glass down.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he announced, I have a security review of the new ship very early tomorrow. Good evening, everyone.” He nodded and crossed the room, hoping he wouldn’t be too far behind her.

Rand made a left out the door heading for the closest airlock. All the whole muttering quietly to herself, in Gaelic. The adrenaline lingering insisting she run after forcing herself to be still for the captain’s speech and the benefit of those watching the ‘poor pitiful ensign.’ Experience, though, told her to walk steadily with purpose, in order to make herself control the reaction rather than other way around.

He spotted her as he exited, thankfully. “Ensign,” he called, approaching but stopping a few meters from her. “Do you need anything?” he asked, his deep voice low.

COS Ford

Rand, perhaps hoping it was Randy behind her, pulling her leg by calling her ensign, or maybe she recognized the tone of his voice for what it was. Rand turned around uttering the first thing to come to mind, “A do-over.” But it wasn’t Randy or a stranger behind her. It was Lt Fordham. Her face flushed as cold heat waves swamped her and there was that sound like a rushing train. “Um,” She forced herself to breathe, she could hyperventilate when she got back to her quarters. “N..no Lt I’m fine.” Obviously not.
Yeoman Rand