Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Leah Hart (Nurse Practitioner/Counseling) in Galley/Lounge- A Friendly Evening
Leah felt like she had just worked a double shift. Dragging herself out of Sickbay, she was glad that she had seen all her therapy patients in the morning and kept the evening free. Still four hours of talking one-on-one, and then a busy afternoon in Sickbay left her feeling drained. She chided herself for making such a big deal out of it, given it was actually not that bad of a day. At least it hadn’t been a double shift. She probably would have crashed out in one of the recovery rooms!

Still, she was looking forward to spending time with Chandel, whom she had agreed to meet up with in the Lounge. Convenient because she was starving! It was probably why she was feeling so tired. She also made a mental note to drink some more water and avoid coffee, knowing she would likely end up with insomnia.

Yawning, she stepped into the room, still in her white nursing uniform. She had debated changing, but knew if she went to her quarters, she’d be tempted to sit on the couch or her bed, and she’d likely pass out. She didn’t want to make Chandel hunt her down, so in uniform it was.

The space was moderately busy but not full and she was able to snag a table for the two of them after grabbing a glass of water. She’d wait for her friend before getting dinner. Sipping from her glass, she let her gaze drift out towards the two windows in the room, her mind slipping somewhere else.

~Leah Hart, NP

Within moments, the doors slid open with a soft whoosh, revealing Chandel. She wore an amber-colored tunic and matching pants that caught the light warmly, the fabric moving easily with her steps. At her throat, her new necklace rested plainly but proudly, something she was still getting used to wearing—and quietly pleased to have. For a heartbeat, she paused, letting her eyes adjust, then she spotted Leah. Relief and a small spark of happiness crossed her face, and she lifted a hand in an easy wave before heading toward her.

“Hey, Leah,” she said, her voice bright but gentle as she came to a stop beside her. “You haven’t picked dinner yet?” Chandel glanced briefly toward the replicator, already imagining familiar flavors. “I think I’m in the mood for jambalaya tonight—or whatever the synthesizer decides passes for it.” She gave a soft, almost nostalgic grin, the thought of warm spices and comfort food clearly appealing.

As she spoke, her expression subtly shifted. Chandel’s gaze lingered on Leah’s face a moment longer than politeness required, her natural perceptiveness picking up on the faint signs of fatigue—the tightness around the eyes, the way her posture sagged just a little. Her smile softened, concern edging into her tone.

“Hey…” she said quietly, lowering her voice as if to give Leah space. “Are you alright?”

Ensign Chandel Sci