Title - The Informal Social Crew Gathering

Rating - Gen

Characters and relationships - Renée Minkowski, Isabel Lovelace, Doug Eiffel, Hera

Word count - 2000

Content warnings - None

Brief synopsis - Commander Minkowski thinks a party would be a good way for Captain Lovelace to get to know her new crew.

Commander Minkowski paced the atrium as well as she could without gravity. It was something that resembled a purposeful float more than any kind of walk. Her brow was furrowed deep and if she chewed her lip any harder, she’d be needing to crack open a medkit. It had been little over a week since Captain Lovelace had joined the Hephaestus station, and while she had integrated seamlessly into becoming a working member of the crew, she still kept to herself during her downtime.

Of course, Lovelace would be a professional, she was a Captain after all, but Minkowski would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a little disappointed by her detachment. When you’d been trapped inside a station like the Hephaestus for as long as she had, any chance to talk to someone new was to be grabbed with both hands. Lovelace didn’t seem the type to be this withdrawn, even when confronted with a stranger’s crew. They were all under Goddard Futuristics contract and that had to do something for comradery. Minkowski was sure she would warm up once she was settled down.

        It must’ve been a lot to get Lovelace’s head around. The crew of the Hephaestus wasn’t just new to her, but an uncanny replacement for her own. Minkowski found it difficult to remember that this wasn’t Lovelace’s first time on the station. She wondered if the Captain ever felt flashes of resentment towards them for taking the place of a crew she had cared about for so long, if they ever spoke in a way that reminded her of them. Minkowski still thought of Lovelace’s quarters as Hilbert’s. It wouldn’t be a reach to assume she thought similar things about each of their places on the ship. Little tendrils of anxiety squeezed at Minkowski’s chest and she shook her head firmly.

She was assigned this role. She was supposed to be here. Her and Lovelace could work together just fine without imposter syndrome rearing its ugly head. There hadn’t been any reason to assume otherwise.

“You called, Commander?” Eiffel drifted into the atrium, rubbing dust from around his eyes. Some speckles floated away from him and Minkowski wrinkled her nose. Had he been napping? Eiffel was supposed to have been monitoring the incoming frequencies for the past four hours. He wasn’t scheduled to sleep for another three.

        “I’m trying to organise a party for Captain Lovelace.”

        “A party?” Eiffel did nothing to hide his revulsion. He physically coiled in on himself, a full body cringe. “For Captain Lovelace?”

        Minkowski felt her face heat, kept her tone cool as ice. Just as chilly. “Is there an echo in this atrium? Yes, Eiffel, a party. More of a gathering, actually. Something casual so we can get to know each other a little better. For team building.” She could tell Eiffel wasn’t convinced. He was a few degrees away from looking genuinely mortified. “Clearly you aren’t doing anything else of importance, so you might as well help me with this. Captain Lovelace needs something to cheer her up.”

“I don’t know about that, Commander. If I was Captain Lovelace, I’d be wanting some time to myself. You know it’s a pretty crazy situation to get dumped into and I don’t know if I’d feel like celebrating.”

Trust Eiffel to want to shirk responsibilities. He wasn’t Captain Lovelace, and he had no idea what she would be feeling. Minkowski’s tone sharpened to a crisp point. “It’s not a celebration, it’s a… It’s an informal social crew gathering.”

“You were the one that called it a–!”

“Participation is non-negotiable, Eiffel.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” he groaned. That was settled. It was a losing battle, and Eiffel knew when to take a tactical defeat. At least that was one thing he had going for him. He flipped her a half hearted salute. “Consider me participated.”

“Great. Are you going to help me make some decorations?”
        “Woah, woah, Commander. I didn’t realise I was going to have to properly party prep here. You seemed the type to own a banner or two.”

“I told you, it isn’t a party. We don’t need special decorations. Just something to liven the place up a little. Hera?” Minkowski turned away from Eiffel to address the room. “Hera? Are you there?”

“Y-Yes, Commander.” Hera’s voice crackled from the intercom set into the wall. It took a few seconds after for her little blue form to appear on the screen embedded in one of the control panels. She sounded as upbeat as ever. Bright and breezy. Hera gave a small wave, grinning wide, then as her animation started idling, she said, “Are we planning Captain Lovelace’s party now?”

“It’s not a– Do you know where she is currently?”

Pale blue pixels swirled to form a tablet for Hera to scroll in her jolty preset way. “Captain Lovelace is in her quarters. Sleeping.” She kept scrolling long after she’d finished speaking then fell back into her idle animation.

“Can you make sure she stays there for the next few hours?”

Hera froze mid foot tap as an exclamation mark flashed once above her head.

“I can try, Commander, but u-unless I lock her in, there’s really not much I can do to stop Captain Lovelace from leaving her quarters.”

Locking Lovelace in her room would be horrific for all the obvious reasons. Minkowski was desperate for a smooth sailing informal social crew gathering but she knew where to draw a line. They needed Lovelace to like them. That was the whole point.

“Okay, no locking anyone in. Warn us when she heads our way,” she said. “But don’t say a word to her. This is a surprise.”

“Understood, sir,” Hera said. She spun about on the spot and disappeared, the screen going dark behind her.

“That’s just great!” Eiffel gave an indignant squeak. “Let’s all leap out and yell ‘surprise!’ and toot party horns at someone who doesn’t want a party in the first place. Wait, someone with paranoia who doesn’t want a party in the first place. Sounds like an amazing plan, sir. This keeps getting better and better.”

★★★

It hadn’t taken long for Eiffel to hang up the paper streamers Minkowski had crafted. They were bland, utilitarian, fashioned from strips of cut up medication leaflets. She would have preferred something a little more festive but paper was shockingly hard to come by in space. These paper strips didn’t dangle like back on Earth either, instead drooping sadly upwards and ruining the whole effect. Desperate times called for desperate measures. The fact that Minkowski had even tried to organise an informal social crew gathering was proof that she was a good team leader. Morale had never been so valuable.

        “Move that one there further left,” Minkowski called. Her neck was craned back to supervise Eiffel from afar, hand on hips. He unpeeled the tape again, sighing heavily. It clung to his finger and he wasted a few seconds waving his hand until it floated free. He stuck the strip back up, to the left as ordered.

        Minkowski frowned. It was fine to the left, nothing special. In fact, maybe being closer to the centre complimented the balance of the decorations after all. “I think it was better where it was. Can you–?”

        “Put it back? No, sir, not a problem. Not at all. It isn’t as if you’ve told me to move this thing twenty times already!” But Eiffel did put the streamer back again, grumbling to himself as he did. “For something that isn’t even a party, you’re really trying to get all Sistine Chapel in here, Commander.”

        “Stop complaining. I don’t know how much time we have until she’s awake.”

        “Until who’s awake?” A voice from behind.

Both of them startled and turned to see Lovelace framed by the doorway.

“You’re not meant to be here yet!” Minkowski snapped, before slapping a hand over her mouth, eyebrows high. “Lovelace, I didn’t mean that.”
        The corners of her eyes creased in amusement. “That sounded… suspicious.”

It definitely did. Minkowski’s face had reddened bright across her cheeks and she felt heat prickle at the back of her neck. The attempt at decorating just looked miserable. Eiffel glanced between the two of them like a nervous sighthound. He was smart to keep his mouth shut. This was her idea and Eiffel would only say something to dig them into a ditch. Why hadn’t Hera told them she was awake?

Lovelace looked tired. The kind of bone-deep exhaustion sleep couldn’t shift. Everyone on the station was well acquainted with it. Her eyes didn’t quite seem to focus on what they were looking at, as if she was staring right through things, never seeing them solidly. Zero G helped with some parts of fatigue. It wasn’t as hard to stand up and support your own weight, but manoeuvring in that cumbersome, floaty way wasn’t the most efficient for travel. Her dark hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail with some of the shorter coils drifting about her head as she moved.

Minkowski laughed it off. “Why would we be suspicious?”

She shot Eiffel a look and he simply shrugged, letting himself sink down from the height he’d been floating at. She had them there. If her goal was to stop Lovelace from feeling so alienated, keeping secrets was not the best way to go about it. Why hadn’t Hera told them she was awake? 

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll just grab some things and leave you to–” Lovelace eyed the lacklustre streamers. “Whatever this is.”

Minkowski knew she was finding it funny. She couldn’t blame her. Entertainment was far and few between on the station. Which was exactly why she had planned the informal social crew gathering in the first place. Everything seemed so ridiculous now that Lovelace was actually here in person. It would be embarrassing to explain that this was all meant to be for her when it had fallen so flat.

“Commander Minkowski!” Hera’s voice sputtered from the speakers again, slicing straight through the room. “The sensors in Captain Lovelace’s quarters are telling me she’s s-still asleep, but someone just entered the atrium and I think it could be—”

“That’s alright, Hera.” Minkowski sighed. At least she tried.

Folding her arms, Lovelace gave all three of them an incredulous look. “You were spying on me? Is that normal for the station these days?”

When Minkowski was left opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water, Eiffel took it on himself to speak on her behalf. “Our wonderful Commander here was concerned for your well being, sir. Mentally, you know. We’ve all been pretty stressed out. She wanted to throw you a surprise welcome party. Crucial part of a surprise party is the surprise, which explains all the sneaking around.” He glanced once at Hera’s sprite on the control panel. She was nodding along with him. “There’s nothing bad going on. But, for what it’s worth, I did say this wasn’t a great idea from the beginning.”

Expertly summarised. Closing statements discounted, of course.

“A party?” Lovelace released the tension that had seeped into her posture. She shook her head wearily. “Wow. I, er, I appreciate that, thank you. But I don’t know if I’ll be up to it. I’m drained, Commander.”

“It’s not a party,” Minkowski blurted and Eiffel and Hera shared a smirk. “I don’t think any of us are up for a party. This was going to be a relaxing evening for everyone to destress and socialise.”

Lovelace didn’t say anything for a few seconds. She scanned the atrium, eyes moving between the three of them, lingering on the wafting strips of paper. No music, drinks, or food prepared. There wasn’t anything on offer except the crew’s company. Minkowski could only speak for herself, but she was sure they all agreed that it would be nice to get to know her better.

“Sure.” Lovelace nodded, smiled.  “Sounds like fun.”