Back to the Future

Posted on Tue Jan 10th, 2023 @ 12:14am by Staff Sergeant Nathanial "Nate" Cusack & Warrant Officer Iryna Voznyuk

Mission: Sojurn
Location: Hangar
Timeline: Immediately after "Sulking and Building"
3454 words - 6.9 OF Standard Post Measure

Typically speaking, having learnt from prior experience, Nate didn't make a habit of trying to go very far once he'd consumed a decent amount of moonshine. Whatever it was they made the stuff from, and he'd wisely never tried to find out, it packed a vicious punch that tended to arrive out of no where just as soon as you'd vowed and declared that this time, it wasn't going to affect you much. If he was honest, he hadn't set out to get drunk, had more or less signed up for the dubious gallantry of trying to ensure that Voznyuk didn't get too messy, but she'd produced an endless supply and then hadn't stopped challenging him to....everything.

He'd certainly never tried to put his aim to the test whilst inebriated, having far too much respect for the implicit dangers to go anywhere near a sniper rifle when he couldn't see straight, but there had been a certain ridiculousness to trying to hit ping-pong balls with an empty moonshine bottle. They'd started that once throwing the purloined sports equipment from opposite ends of a deserted corridor had seen one of them fall backwards into a pitch black supply closet and fail to navigate several mops and a broom without assistance. It had made her laugh, at least, which was probably worth something, even if it was at his expense.

Somehow, between throwing balls at each other and uncovering fantastic locations for hide-and-seek should they ever be required, they'd meandered far enough to catch their breaths leaning against the railing of the Observation Deck. Directly below, wedged in as best as could be accommodated, a beat-up escape pod dominated most of the view despite the hangar not really being designed with its housing in mind. Nate threw a ping-pong ball against the screen and ducked surprisingly quickly as it ricocheted back and nearly lodged itself in his eyeball.

He smushed himself against the screen instead and shield his eyes against an imaginary glare.

"That the time machine?"

Iryna had not had that much fun in a long time and she stared down at the battered pod that had been through hell and back. She was breathless from the running incase that had been heard by the security watch or worse another marine. “No, that’s the dimension of hopper. No time travel involved in that ride.” She reminded him nudging him. “But yea that is it.”

"Same difference," Nate replied inaccurately, squinting in an effort to peer past their reflections to get a better view. "Doesn't look as banged up as I thought it would." Given the obvious signs that the pod wasn't going to be functional again without some significant work done on it, the mind boggled as to what he'd expected. Nate frowned, regarding the pod with a degree of wariness and distrust, and then abruptly turned to ask, "You ever wonder what you were like in that universe?"

Iryna turned and looked at the man as he turned to look at her. “Oh I know about what I was like on the other universe or at least I know that I was not on the ship. I was sent to the Columbia. The engineer knew me from a vessel which worked together another ship.” She explained pushing away from looking down to start towards where they could get down to the pod.

"See, every time I show interest in asking, I get shot down in flames." To be fair, it was a normal occurrence these days any time he opened his mouth around Diaz. Arms extended in protest, though for once it wasn't her busting his balls, Nate followed without pausing to consider the wisdom of their curiosity. Why start now? "Call me a hopeless optimist for wanting there to be some version of me not stuck out in the middle of no where."

“The multi verse is a thing.” Iryna said simply as she climbed down the ladder and stepped aside to let him down. “I speak Engineer and how else do you think I got the moonshine?” She wondered laughing as she watched him climb down.

"I was considering it an act of self-preservation not to ask," came the wry response. In an effort to make up for previous lack of coordination, the marine attempted to slide down the final rungs, an act he'd managed countless times during his career without incident. It was less than graceful this time but he avoided, at least, landing on his backside. Pushing away, Nate moved towards the pod and stood, hands on hips, in front of its main hatch. "You think they brought anything with them and forgot to claim it?"

“Whimp.” The woman replied with a grin before following him. She looked him over and nearly giggled at how ridiculous he looked stood like he was. “Very manly stance there and no idea. I can’t imagine, there was not much on it to begin with.” Iryna was not one to beat around the bush so she pressed the hatch release and watched as the lock whirled signifying it was still hooked in to the ship to provide power.

Two assaults on his masculinity and Nate very nearly closed the hatch on her and walked away. As much as he was feeling the effects of the booze, he had eased up over the past half hour as he had become aware of just how wasted she had the potential of becoming, being several drinks ahead of him. Nate enjoyed the buzz of mild intoxication as much as the next guy but didn't need to go well over the limit to make an idiot of himself. Where Voznyuk was concerned, he started well ahead of the bell curve in that department anyway, risking a trip to Sickbay didn't seem warranted.

And so it was with a modicum of hesitation born of commonsense that he stuck his head inside the hatchway first without committing to marching in after her. The fact that it was powered seemed like an oversight really, given current issues with the grid, and with the roundabout logic that often saw him interfere with good intention, Nate figured disconnecting it was probably a good idea. He'd just had a crash course in how to do that kind of thing correctly, no sense in pulling engineering staff away from critical response.

He leaned against the hatchway and folded his arms across his chest.

"I know these things store their own backup power but isn't it kind of a waste having it sit here humming to itself?"

The warrant officer had no qualms about stepping in side and slouched down on the nearest chair and just watched him. “It is likely being charged for a what if situation. Might not be space worthy but good battery pack or generator.” She said her filter not there as she shared a look with him before shaking it away. It might provide them with more battery life if they needed something in the future if they needed to abandon ship.

"You mean a situation like this one?" Nate wasn't really a 'what if' kind of guy. Tactics were all well and good on the battlefield but there came a point where you ran the risk of penalising yourself in the present for a future that wasn't guaranteed. Bending down to read the display, the marine screwed up his nose and jabbed an accusatory finger at the readouts. "I know where I'm coming if temperature controls get adjusted again." He was warm-blooded; energy preservation was a thing but being cold wasn't exactly making things more pleasant.

“Yeah.” she said in agreement to both statements. She was as realistic as they came but even she was struggling with the realities of the situation and what was occurring. “It is pretty warm in here.” She agreed stretching in the chair slightly. “Barracks not warm enough for you at the moment?” She questioned thoughtfully. She had a small solo room as warrant officer and it was pretty toasty most of the time.

Slapping a hand on the console to hoist himself up, Nate sank into one of the empty seats and rolled a shoulder back, stretching his neck until it popped. Too young to feel this old, but what could you expect cooped up like a bunch of chooks. "It's not really anything. Can't replace real weather, hot or cold." For a moment, the man who normally couldn't be accused of being sentimental appeared almost wistful. "I haven't had a good sunburn in donkey's years."

“Sounds like my idea of heaven. I do not burn well.” The pale skinned woman explained. She could not think of anything worse than sun burn. She had it once at basic and vowed to be that person going forward to always wear sun screen even if she looked foolish with it.

Having grown up a stone's-throw from the coast, alternating between two locations known for their beaches, Nate had a reasonable capacity to develop a tan when he was actually given the opportunity. All this time indoors had left him a pasty shade of never-sees-sunlight that he wasn't a fan of. From his semi-stupor, having sank back into the seat to fold his hands over his stomach and ponder, Cusack peered across to scrutinise his company for a moment before smirking faintly, "I bet you freckle."

“Would not know.” She shrugged looking over at him. Iryna wrinkled her nose at him as she watched him staring at her. She could see him as sun worshipper to say the least, personality matched what she knew of the other marines from coast regions. “But maybe one day you will be able to find out.” She challenged.

Nathan cocked an eyebrow. She'd been issuing challenges all night, so he was used to the tone. The nature of the contest, this time around, was a little more ambiguous than anything that started with 'I bet you can't...' "That so?"

“I am sure one day we will find somewhere hot and sunny.” She leant over and nudged his shoulder lightly seeing his eyebrow raised. “So stands to reason that we shall have to go down and we will get caught out despite me wearing enough sun screen to cover an elephant.”

"Well, that stuff does have an expiry date and at the rate we're going, it won't be any time soon." Without half a bottle of moonshine under his belt, Nathan was far more likely to get irritated when he spent too much time reflecting on the life he was wasting on board this stricken ship. As it turned out, being somewhat tipsy just left him sounding defeated.

The woman still watched him and saw the look of defeat on his face for a moment before she leant over and touched his hand. “Hey… chin up marine.” She stated quietly.

This time, both eyebrows hitched upwards as Nate stared first at the hand, for once apparently meant as a comfort and not as an attempt to shove his face into the dirt, and then up at Voznyuk's unfamiliar expression. Too much time spent stuck on a tin can, he decided. Hell had finally frozen over. "Not sure I pegged you for the pep talk type," he replied gruffly, his tone a little more subdued than it had sounded in his head.

“I do not believe you actually know me as well as you think you do, Nate.” She said using his chosen name instead of the one she insisted on using. She squeezed his hand before slowly pulling back not sure he was ready to see the version of her not constantly rubbing him the wrong way.

"Starting to see that," came the immediate response as Nate, brows now knitted closely, tried to get a handle on his spiralling understanding of what was going on. After all, he'd just traipsed around the ship after a woman who usually seemed to take great delight in busting his balls over the smallest infraction. Now, though she'd easily drunk more than him, she seemed hell-bent on behaving like a human being, which might have been nice had it not been so weird. The marine couldn't shake the feeling that something was expected of him, though he'd be damned if he could figure out what. He'd almost preferred it when she told him what she thought of him without pulling punches.

A hand lifted to scrub at his eyes and Nate, wading through a quagmire of confusion and moonshine, hesitated until a random titillation of sluggish neurons brought to mind his grandfather, font of knowledge that he had been. Always read a woman between the lines, and if you still can't make her out, take her dancing. It had made no sense at the time, the old bloke had wandered a bit there near the end, but his grandson fixated nonetheless until the impetus to lean sideways and search the pod's memory banks prompted an unlikely discovery. Several taps saw the cabin fill with a lazy, laid laidback tune.

"We'll have to fix that," spoke a boldness that couldn't be entirely blamed on the booze. Pushing upright, Nathan readjusted his shirt and then, over-exaggerating a dip of his head, held out his hand. "For instance, do you dance?"

Iryna brought her hand back and settled it on her stomach just letting the silence descend and for him to think through his thoughts. It was not uncomfortable for her as she enjoyed the silence of the pod. It was different from her bunk space or any of the silent spaces she sought out with different beeps and chirps that were nothing but background noise to her now. “Sometimes.” She admitted as she took the offered hand and let him pull her to her feet.

Nathan had learned many things from his father. Interpreting his grandfather hadn't been one of them, nor had any type of healthy emotional expression been high on the list, but duty and discipline and how to dance with a woman apparently all fit under the category of useful to the career. Their relationship had always been complicated, compounded by the fact that the older Cusack had always seemed locked in a perpetual state of disappointment in his son. Contemplation of everything he missed about home got kind of murky when Nate thought about his family but knowing he hadn't left on the best of speaking terms was a regret he struggled with at times. His mother had always said they were just too much alike. For once, Nate hoped it was true because she'd also always said that her father was a 'different man' when he danced. Being different didn't sound so terrible, if only for a few minutes.

The crooning that filled the pod was a little cheesy but set a pace that was kind to slightly intoxicated awkwardness. Spinning was a little chaotic but rendering her dizzy provided an excuse to stabilise and, before he really understood that he'd instigated this intentionally, Nate found his arms full of a lightly swaying superior officer who felt incredibly warm for such an ice-cold exterior. The shuffle of a slow-dance was arguably better for coordination but did nothing for his sense of equilibrium. He kept his chin high enough to maintain some sense of propriety without pausing to wonder why he cared. He didn't normally care.

Iryna was surprised when the music turned a little slower from the melody that they had started dancing to. She could not see his face so kept her eyes locked on his shoulder noticing his tee was fraying just a little at the collar and fact he actually was silent for once not uttering anything. “This is nice.” She finally said breaking the silence.

Nate's brow twitched, though any exhibition of confusion was confined instantly to the fact that it took him a second to respond. "I can be nice," he pointed out quietly, more out of deference for her proximity than a desire to avoid being overheard.

“I know.” Iryna assured quickly and squeezed the hand that was in his still. “Never doubted that.” She added to make sure he knew that she did not always think of him as that marine. They all got rode but he got rode harder cause she knew there was so much more to him.

Improvisation didn't normally worry Nate that much. If anything, his glib tongue and ability to have a response on the fly for anything flung at him was the root of his continual conduct issues. It did help, however, when life deigned to confine itself to a certain set of predictable rules without significant deviation. Superior officers who suddenly decided to stop firing poison darts at your ego ought to have been against regulations. Intrigued enough by her response to lower his head just a little, Nate stopped just shy of resting his chin atop her head as he contemplated the likelihood of never doubting anything about him. A faint half-smile tugged at his lips. "You'd be one of the few then."

“Hmm…” She murmured as she felt him shift just a little against her. “I will take that as a compliment then.” She finally decided it had to be a good thing that she did not doubt him. She might be tough on people but she did it because they only had each other to rely on, they did not have time for doubt on each other.

The smirk in her tone, however muted, was at least a little more familiar. "And what about you?," he finally allowed his chin to nudge her forehead fleetingly, his own smile setting his eyes twinkling as they fixed on a rather unimpressive spot on the far wall. "That's an awful lot of moonshine to get you to put away the claws, I don't know if we can keep up the supply."

“What do you mean what about me? And I do not normally drink.” She wondered leaning back to look up at him even if he was not looking down at her or anything.

Respect wasn't something Cusack was accused of very often. The measure of control he showed now in not making eye contact surprised even him. "So much for drinking me under the table then." The faint smirk was more characteristic but even then it didn't do much for the uncommon placidness in his eyes.

“Maybe I just wanted a little human connection for once. Pretty lonely at the top since the Vulcan disappeared and King died in the stairs collapse.” It was hard enough being a woman. Let alone a woman at the top.

Resolve only went so far. The fact that she hadn't pushed him away, or punched him, or both fostered a sense of boldness that most on the squad had come to view as stubborn confidence. If someone was going to speak out of turn, it would be Cusack. A psychiatrist's analysis of why this was the case would likely only have annoyed the marine but there were glimpses of defense mechanism at times. He'd been bucking the system since he was born, after all, why stop now?

But he risked a glance downwards and almost immediately regretted it. Viewing the woman in his arms as anything other than a thorn in his side convoluted things and there wasn't a lot of room in their current situation to move away from inevitable fallout from bad decisions. He'd almost learned his lesson with Diaz, and probably should have brought some of that self-reflection to this. Heaven help him but he had a weakness for pretty eyes.

"So, I'm human at least?" Even with a slightly softer tone, the tease lingered.

“Human enough for this ship to not to stand out.” She teased back, her tease was just a little more edgy than his as was standard for the Russian. She was all cold and rough edges and even then with the man practically holding her was she able to completely relax and not snark.

He'd walked into that one. She was, Nate decided, impossible to read but on the balance of things, given his haphazard intentions when he'd first sat down to poke at why she was drinking in the dark on her own, he'd claim a win anyway. All of his ribs were still intact at any rate.

A soft chuckle saw him shake his head and lift his gaze towards the ceiling.

"I'll take what I can get."