Atmospheric Pollutants

Posted on Wed Sep 10th, 2025 @ 1:08pm by Commander Alex Flynn & Senior Aerospace Specialist Mindo 'Riot' & Captain Hadrian 'Sunshine' Palamas
Edited on on Wed Sep 24th, 2025 @ 12:55pm

1,051 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Shoreleave [3-4]
Location: Fighter Deck service corridors
Timeline: Morning - MD02

Alex wasn't totally sure where she'd put the little hygeine-drone that she kept around to make her smoking less noticable to those around her, but she was too embarrassed to ask the computer. Instead, she made her way to the fighter deck as she often did in such situations, knowing their filtration systems were uniquely ill equipped to detect burning carcinogens as the kind she consumed to fend off a deleterious Breen pathogen that preyed on unstimulated addiction centres.

On her way to the service corridor that was the perfect spot for a smoke, she encountered Lieutenant Mindo, who knew what she was there for, and politely insisted on joining her, which made Alex happy, and more comfortable sneaking into another department's space to do something most would frown upon.

"...so in the end he got reassigned to government service on Bajor. Didn't like things in the Gamma Quadrant, I guess. And so, single since then." Alex said, concluding the story that she'd started before they reached their destination. "What about you?" Alex asked the Tellarite.

"Tried a few times. Transfers got in the way. Fleet life, you know? And I don't think my dad would ever speak to me again if I ended up with a pilot, so just taking it easy." Mindo said calmly with a shrug. The human cigarette was somewhat light compared to the massive stogies Tellarites still consumed on the homeworld and their colonies.

"Ugh, don't I know it." Alex said with a knowing smile.

Sunshine followed his nose down the back corridors after finishing his patrol and leaving his bird for the techs. His nose, after all, did work better than that of most mammals.

He had already made up his mind; Chief Theodoros 'Minotaur' Sklavos was going to be his XO. Sure, it’d ruffle a few of the shiny new second lieutenants, but so what? Minotaur had more experience than the whole lot of them combined. The man had logged more hours in a cockpit than Sunshine himself—by Kirk’s bones, it wasn’t even close. The butterbars’ pride would sting for a while, but they’d live.

Just then, Palamas caught a sharp, acrid tang in the air—burnt, but oddly sweet, like tar-flowers set alight. He glanced up from his padd and spotted two figures at the far end of the corridor, leaning together, something smoldering between them.

“Don’t they make you smokers take it to the airlocks on this station?” he called, nose wrinkling.

One of the figures turned. Roman’s stomach dropped as the faint light caught a collar—three pips, angled just so. A Commander.

"They don't make me do much. Especially lately." Alex told the pilot across the distance between them. "Problem?"

“Smells like a cheap cigar… lucky for you, I’ve got a taste for cheap cigars,” Drydon shot back, striding toward them with practiced nonchalance, every step an attempt to make the moment look intentional.

"Nothing that fancy." Alex said, exhaling another cloud of smoke. "Just the computer's best recreation of the red apple brand they used to make in the 21st century." She took a closer look at the pilot as he approached. "You're Palamas, right?"

“Yes, ma’am. I remember a Chief on the Tylesh who wouldn't leave port on Earth until he'd picked up some genuine delectados. Commander Flynn, isn’t it?” Hadrian stopped, forming a loose triangle with the two officers.

“That’s me,” Alex confirmed with a nod. “You know Mindo? Or ‘Riot,’ in pilot-speak.” She directed the question at both of them, though her eyes lingered on Hadrian.

“No, haven’t had the pleasure. Hadrian Palamas - Sunshine. New skipper of the Blue Diamonds.” He extended a hand toward Mindo, offering a practiced, easy smile.

"Nice to be met, Cap. I'm Captain Shrath's gunner." Mindo said, shaking his hand in the human fashion. "Who've you got in your gunseat?" Mindo asked of his accompanying operator for the two-seater fighter.

"Sutulhar. He was the last unassigned. So you've been here since the first wing arrived?" Palamas explained and asked.

"Yeah, though that was only a couple of weeks ago. Hasn't been a lot to do since then other than patrol." Mindo said, realising it felt like longer, though that was probably because of the drama with those symbiote-people.

“You know, Lieutenant, you’re not the first semigod I’ve met. Not even the first of Apollo’s line,” Flynn said, drawing on her half-burned smoke. “From what I’ve seen, your kind knows how to party - but you tend to get ahead of yourselves. You gunning for CAG?”

Hadrian’s grin was easy, his tone light. “Ahead of myself? We don’t think in those terms. Deities don’t. Demi-god in my case, but the point stands. Fair cacking observation, though. As for CAG? I’ll worry about that once I'm settled in. Right now, I’m focused on surviving the next few weeks.”

Flynn arched a brow, as she'd seen so many Vulcans do. “You don’t actually believe that, do you? That you’re a deity?”

“Not believe it? Why wouldn’t I?” Roman leaned in, incredulous. “My ancestors ruled Earth from Olympus itself. I’m the great-grandson of a god. An heir. Asking me if I believe that is like asking if you believe you’re human. Sure, I’m not as gifted as the Great Apollo, but our lifespan alone—uncertain, maybe endless. There are records of one-sixteenth hybrid Olympians living over a thousand years. I’m one-eighth.”

Alex blinked, thrown off. That wasn’t the deflection she expected. “...Right. Well. Nice to meet you, Captain.” She crushed the glowing tip of her smoke against the back of her boot, grinding it out without a second thought.

Roman paused, surprised at the casual disregard. Lit ash fell to the deck, leaving a soot scar. Rude, he thought, lips pressing thin.

“Indeed, ma’am,” he said at last, regaining his composure. “I’ve got logistical and administrative wrangling to attend to myself. Pleasure meeting you, Commander.”

With that, Hadrian slipped past the pair and continued down the corridor.

"We'll talk later about the ring." Flynn told Mindo as she went.

"Sure, I'll ask dad." Mindo told Flynn with a wave.

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