Quoted By:
But there’s a gradual and noticeable diminishing of the winds and the waves. And as the long hours pass, the dark-grey concentration of storm clouds slowly passes along the starboard, completely missing the ship in its entirety as it rolls along the trade winds. Condition YOKE is returned to XRAY, and while sky is still largely overcast, the captain authorizes the resumption of work for the deckhands.
“Check yourself into sickbay, Sloan,” Elishani orders. “Doc should have some seasickness medicine in his chest.”
A handful of snickers from the mates and watch officers are immediately silenced when Geary shoots the offending party a glare that could freeze the air. You may or may not have joined them.
“And which one of you held your lunch on your first storm?” the XO scolds them.
Ignoring the byplay, the captain merely relieves Sloan of duty, who gratefully stumbles off the bridge and down towards sickbay.
>>Later…
“Thanks for helping out,” quartermaster Atkinson says as he relieves you. “And taking care of Sloan.”
…he’s a good lad. Jumpy and skittish, but that’s the kind of ticks that are ironed out with experience. Wouldn’t do to put him in immediate command, but he’d make for a good bridge officer down the line. Maybe a command officer if he held his chin up higher.
<span class="mu-i">“Uncle…it hurts so much…”</span>
“Least I could do,” you reply neutrally, “I wasn’t any different during my first storm.”
“Neither was I,” Atkinson agrees with a conspiratorial smile.
Outside, the sun’s already begun to set, and the day crew’s been given leave to R&R. This leaves you with the perfect opportunity to get some decent shut-eye, or some light reading in. Book club does not end merely due to reassignment or delay. One shower later finds you clean and refreshed, ready to dive back into the paid-per-word novels of Dickens.
But entering the common room, you find that it isn’t unoccupied.
From her seat on the couch, reclined with a towel wrapped around her neck, Gully looks up from her…you aren’t quite sure what it is she’s got disassembled on the table. “Unami.”
“Gully,” you return her greeting with an amicable nod.
The silence isn’t awkward…maybe just a little bit. Neither of you don’t seem to know what to say.
She eventually breaks it. "...how was your day?"
"...can't complain," you answer uncertainly. "Storm came and went. Didn't bother me too much."
"Mmmm. Me neither."
...argh.
>>Please choose a course of action:
>Hang out with Gully for pilot socializing.
>See what Chief Holt’s doing in her free time.
<span class="mu-s">[VOTE OPEN FOR TEN (10) HOURS]</span>
Sincere apologies for the delay. Writer’s block reared its ugly head, and my OCD went into overdrive in researching naval protocol/terminology for sailing during storms.
