Sleepless mornings

Posted on Sat Nov 17th, 2018 @ 12:08am by Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox

Mission: Escaped Pantheons
Location: Crew Quarters, Deck 8
Timeline: 2395, en route to the Galactic Core

It was 0:430 hours aboard the Starship Hera, and one again, Lieutenant Junior Grade Melanie Dox found herself awake. In the brief time aboard the massive nebula class ship, Dox found herself waking up much earlier then she was used to. She wasn't sure if it was the pressures of her new position as Chief Flight Control Officer or just her ever present anxieties gnawing at the back of her mind, but it was another nightmare that shoved the young pilot from her slumber.

Which was a bit more annoying this morning as she struggled to even remember the dream this time, simply being left with a lingering feeling of dread she wanted to shake.

She didn't know why she was stressing, thinking perhaps that it was the anxiety of their upcoming mission that was filled with unknown quantities. But all in all, everything was going well. She had even had a very nice meeting with the ships Councilor that ended with some fun talking in a more off duty way in Ten-Forward. She was making friends for the first time in her adult life, so why was her brain trying to eat itself when she tried to sleep?

She had considered perhaps trying to practice her keyboard playing. She had lamented that she hadn't had the time to play much while talking with Avender Jurot, the ships Councilor the day prior but found no inspiration to do so on this morning. Instead, she found herself standing in the far corner of her new and inordinately spacious senior crew quarters looking at the one piece of equipment she had requested that had been beamed in earlier. A full sized humanoid torso, padded and mounted to a slightly flexible weighted base. For all intents and purposes, a punching bag.

Of course, the ship had a few gyms that would serve this purpose, but Melanie valued her privacy and didn't want to practice in a public forum. Her thick, wavy auburn hair was up in a tight pony tail and, as it was her own quarters, she wore nothing more than a pair of comfortable panties and a sports bra.

Rita Paris loved to run and Councilor Jurot said she liked to swim. But this was Melanie Dox's preferred method of exercise.

"Computer. Please engage sound proofing field for these quarters." Dox called out to the room. With a chirp, the ships computer replied.

=^=Sound proofing engaged.=^=

She wanted to make sure that her morning exercise wouldn't disturb anyone else on the deck before she got started, as she was now surrounded on all sides by the rooms of the rest of the senior staff.

Taking a few deep breaths to relax, Melanie planted her feet in a slightly wide stance in front of the padded torso and held out an arm, taunt at length to gauge her distance. Beginning somewhat softly, she made a few quick strikes at the neck of the figure, aiming at areas that generally contained sensitive nerve clusters on most humanoid species.

Progressing, she steadily increased her intensity, moving from the neck to the sides where the softer organs tended to rest. "Computer. Please begin playlist. Dox workout zero zero three. Volume, six." With the soundproofing in place, she was confident that nobody would be disturbed as Baba O'Reilly by the 20th century Earth band, The Who started playing.

Growing up, Melanie Dox wasn't exposed to much human culture in the few years that her human father was in her life, outside of music. Melanie's mother was Romulan, however, and preferred to expose her daughter to that cultures music. But to Jaeih Dox's dismay, Melanie was drawn to the agressive beats and what was called hard rock or metal. Baba O'Reilly opened fast and got hard and Melaine liked using it to get her energy up and set a good place.

The short, well rounded pilot had a pilots reflexes and was fairly quick for her size, breaking a sweat as she continued her exercises. The moves were harsh and, on an actual person, would be considered somewhat agressive. Even vicious. Which is part of why Melanie preferred to practice in private. Like much of her upbringing, this was a specifically ROMULAN skill engrained in her at a young age by her mother called Llaekh-ae'rl.

Growing up on a smugging ship where, at a very young age they were forced to interact with often disreputable individuals, Jaeih Dox did her best to teach her daughter how to defend herself. They were skills Melanie found valuable more than once as they had to deal with frequently shady individuals. Pirates, criminals and Ferengi traders that had no qualms about getting handsy with a developing teenage girl.

Thinking back, Melanie remembered one particularly possessive customer trading in Romulan Ale that had come on board and tried to literally BUY, her. But her mother was having none of it, and locked him in the ships airlock, allowing the space doors to open an inch at a time until he had learned some manners. Dox smiled a little thinking of the moment, that was positively terrifying at the time. But most were dissuaded by Melanie's basic ability to keep their hands off of her. Llaekh-ae'rl was good for that.

When Melaine was sent to Earth as a teenager to live with her human Grandparents, she quickly learned what the average human thought of Romulans, and over time learned to lean on her mostly human looking appearance and downplay her heritage and upbringing as a way to avoid that judgement. This was particularly difficult for her at Starfleet academy, where the prejudice against Romulans felt more pronounced to her. So she learn to tuck that inside as anxiety turned to resentment and anger. She was never ashamed by her heritage until others put it on her and that resentment lead to Melanie becoming quite isolated and lonely on Earth.

So far, she had encountered no such issues on the Hera, a starship where humans almost seemed to be a minority and diversity seemed to be very celebrated and accepted. But years of built in insecurities were hard to crack, so she practiced in private, at least this morning.

BACK IN BLACK by the band, AC/DC began to play, as Melanie continued her exercises and she smiled a little thinking of the almost impossibly confident Rita Paris walking through the ships corridors as they went to run the other morning like it was nothing, while Melanie desperately hoped nobody would see her in her workout clothes. She envied Paris' power to just be herself and own it. But it was the good kind of envy that made Melanie want to do better herself. Hold her head a little higher for a change.

Maybe tomorrow, she thought, she would just go to the actual gym on the ship. But for now, she continued to attack her stand-in foe until she wore herself out on it.

"Computer. Pause music, please." She muttered out loud as she stopped, now standing and panting mildly in front of her expressionless roommate. Sweat ran down the ample curves of her body. Curves that continued to exist regardless of how much she exersized or dieted. She often wondered if the perpetual pudginess was a result of her mixed blood, thinking about how hard it was for her to loose weight while still being in Starfleet approved physical condition.

Romulans share a lineage with Vulcans, but forfieted the hyper strength exhibited by their logical counsins when they settled on Romulus generations ago. A planet with environmental conditions and gravity closer to Earth allowed Romulans to loose the great strength of their ancestors. But they retained a degree of the greater muscle density that Melanie theorized might be why it was harder for her to loose weight through exercising. She pushed herself enough to stay fit and healthy, but would have to push herself many times harder to get trim. It was a thought that made her sigh.

After her workout, a shower was in order. Then it would be time to prepare for her day. She had a number of crew rotations to review at her office as the handful of officers tasked with piloting the Hera and her various shuttles and Runabouts fell under her aegis. It was a new responsibility, but one she was becoming more comfortable with.

Everyone wanted time at the wheel, but she needed to review all of the factors involved. Melanie grabbed a PaDD off of the nightstand with her files on them to look over, pulling off her panties and bra on the way to the shower. When she had come on board just a couple of weeks ago, First Officer Paris and Ensign Gonadie, both officers that had held her current position as Flight Control Chief, put her through a simulation to guage her skills. It was something that Dox thought she would need to do with the officers in her department.

Crew files had facts and reports and testimonials. But if she was going to determine who was to be in position to fly when her or Ensign Gonadie were unavailable, she needed to see what they had for herself. She made a quick note to schedule the first few similations with the available officers first thing. No reason to wait, she thought as she set the PaDD down on the edge of the sink and stepped into the shower.

Senior crew quarters on a Nebula Class Starship, Melanie learned, had a few perks that she enjoyed. One was a shower with the option for hot water rather than the standard sonic models. To Melanie, it was practically luxurious as she set the temperature controls and just stood beneath the water as it cascaded down her well rounded form.

Relaxing in the shower, Melanie thought of her tasks for the day and how good the water felt. She thought of the friends she was making on the Hera. She thought of her mother. And she didn't think about the nightmare that woke her up at all.