“I’m going to shove him out the airlock. I swear.” Mayvilis huffed in frustration as she burst through the doors of her ready room from the Bridge of the Aldrin, her haste almost caused her to shoulder-check the doors as they swung open. The hulk of a shadow and Executive Officer, Lieutenant Commander Benson George, followed cautiously in tow and nodded silently in agreement. 

Mayvilis turned around on the spot and waited for the doors to swish closed before continuing. She was already reflecting on the example she just set by her little outburst, much of which was audible to the crew on the bridge. Normally, she had a cooler temperament and much more tact, but the past few weeks had begun to wear away on her and the entire Aldrin crew. It was starting to show.

“I’m sorry, Benson.” Mayvilis apologized, took a deep, calming breath, and placed her hands on her hips. Then, she exhaled. “It’s just… That man. I’ve never come across someone so smug and full of themselves. The level of entitlement he has is just… Next level!” 

Benson’s expression softened even more. He moved to the replicator and pressed a few commands on the panel. A tray emerged from the familiar blue hue of the replication process, adorned with a steaming pot of black coffee and all the fixings. He moved the tray to Mayvilis’ desk and poured the coffee into the two standard-issued stainless steel Starfleet issue coffee mugs.

“You’re not the only one feeling that way, Captain.” Benson provided some validation for her. “I get along with mostly everyone. Hell. The crew call me the jolly giant. The Ambassador has even challenged my power of positive thought… And faith in humanoids.” 

The USS Aldrin had been tasked with something not aligned with its mission protocol. A favour to their stalwart division commander, Captain Ehvyer, which involved transporting a Ja’valian Ambassador to Risa for a diplomatic mission. Mayvilis, in particular, did not buy the mission excuse and had realised that the Aldrin was being used as a glorified transport vessel. It was en route to Risa that they had encountered some sort of warp drive failure, which had forced them to close the distance at impulse.

The journey had been nearly three and a half weeks to date. 

Mayvilis picked up the full coffee mug and inhaled deeply before adding a spoonful of sugar and a splash of cream. As she mixed the liquid gold with a spoon, she looked back up at Benson. “I know it’s not entirely his fault. Had we not encountered whatever the hell is happening with subspace, we would long ago have dropped that man’s ass off on Risa and been on our way.” 

Ambassador Ki’lall of the Ja’valian’s had been nothing but rude to those trying to help him. Nothing the crew did to make his stay more comfortable was enough.

The environmental controls in his room, not right.

What the food the replicators produced, not right.

The colour of the carpet adorned in Aldrin’s old corridors, not right.

Nothing was right for the man. Mayvilis had even given the Ambassador her share of holodeck time credits to keep him entertained in their much longer journey than expected. He hadn’t even thanked her for the gesture. 

“Everyone is feeling the pressure, Captain. The unknown. Being cut off from their families. With Risa only being a few days left at impulse, though, I feel folks are starting to have some optimism again.” Benson had a talent for finding the positive in anything. Something Mayvilis was quickly becoming grateful for. 

They at least knew there was some Starfleet presence at Risa. Rudimentary communications were possible, so they had confirmed others were stuck in the region too. Being in a saber-class vessel had limited their ability to even figure out what was happening. What exactly was causing warp drive to fail and communications to work barely would continue to elude them. They could only hope that there were much larger vessels and crews out there working on solutions. 

“I’ve been thinking of letting folks take leave once we get to Risa. It’s not like we’ll be going anywhere else soon.” Mayvilis shared with Benson, who just sat down at her desk now and enjoyed a few sips of coffee himself.

“Not a bad idea. It’ll give those who have felt like they’ve been stuffed into a tin can these past few weeks some breathing room. I don’t know why, but being stuck at impulse these past few weeks… It’s made the ship seem much smaller than it is for some reason.” Benson agreed wholly with the Commander’s thought process. Their crew deserved some time to decompress. 

Mayvilis smiled. She appreciated the agreement in thought from her number one. “I suppose there are worse places to be stuck.. A tropical paradise and quadrant award-winning resort planet… Not the worst place to be…” 

“Captain. I am beginning to rub off on you. You almost sounded positive there!” Benson grinned and lost himself in the coffee once more.

Several days later, the Aldrin was in orbit of Risa. Mayvilis and Benson had relieved nearly seventy percent of the crew to the planet for leave. Their wonderful guest, Ambassador Ki’lall, immediately departed upon arrival and took with him the toxic energy that he so skillfully deployed on a regular during their journey together.

“You should go take some leave too, Captain. I can handle things up here.” Benson tried once again to encourage Mayvilis to take some much needed relaxation time for herself. The two of them were the only officers on the Bridge and were both making their way from console to console, completing various tasks. 

“I’m not leaving my ship. I’d rather everyone else, including yourself, get a break first.” Mayvilis quickly retorted. “Don’t try me, Commander. Or I’ll order you down for a break.” 

“You’d miss me too much. Besides. Who would make sure you’re adequately caffeinated?”