*kthunk*
Pulling the can of soda from the vending machine and nabbing a muffin along the way,
Miles headed back over to one of the corner tables. Settling down in one of the seats, he pulled a pager from his pocket and glanced over the display. Mile was on-duty, yet, for the first time since he'd started working, wasn't actually needed for anything. He'd spent the better part of an hour waiting in CompTech; and while the senior techs had their own projects they were attending to, Miles' boss finally got fed up with him hovering around and told him to go somewhere. Anywhere would be fine. And if they needed him, they'd page him.
Putting away the pager, he opened the can of soda with a single practiced movement of his hand, then leaned back a bit and took a sip. Pulling out his smartphone, he checked the time, then pulled up an fantasy novel e-book and started reading. As he did, though, he couldn't help but notice the man sitting in a secluded corner. Glancing up, he saw the whiskey bottle he was holding, and also realized he'd seen him around a few times; most recently, when fixing a datapad down in communications.
'...it's a little early to start drinking, isn't it? Wonder what his problems are... wait, he's not going to be going to work drunk, is he?' He thought to himself.
Quickly averting his eyes from the drunkard (he realized he was staring), he instead wound up landing his focus on the man across from him at an adjacent table who... just punched himself with a muffin. Blinking at the sight a couple times, it took him another second before his shaking hands made it clear it wasn't deliberate.
"Sir? Are you okay? Do you need a medic?" Miles asked, his eyes wide with alarm.
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Note: Text I italicize and surround with apostrophes like 'this' are meant to represent what Miles is thinking, instead of saying out-loud.