U.S.S. Charon
Deck Two
“Aerial Diplomacy”
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Ambassador Lamont adjusted his uniform thankful to be rid of the uncomfortable and far less stylish attire he was forced to wear while on duty in the engineering department per the captain’s spiteful orders. Gold was never his color. Tugging on his preferred, more formal, diplomatic attire to remove any creases or wrinkles, Lamont headed down the corridor toward the turbolift. Dining alone in his quarters was becoming tiresome and while he typically avoided the chef’s daily specials that in his opinion were underwhelming to his sophisticated palette, he did have a mild desire to be among the crew even if dinner company had been scant to non existent since he had boarded the Charon.
Approaching the lift doors, Lamont reached out and called the lift awaiting its arrival. He wasn’t quite sure what sounded appetizing. Perhaps the smell of food, no matter how unrefined, would help him to decide. The lift chimed signaling its arrival its doors sliding only partially open. Lamont paused at the odd behavior of the lift. The doors finally parted fully as the Ambassador entered. Turning he called for the Eris deck. The doors were about to close when he noticed someone approaching. Normally he could have allowed the doors to close, but something within him forced his hand to hold the doors open.
The lithe form of a Vulcan officer entered. Ian recognized her as the ship’s helm officer. She was also the Charon’s second officer if memory served. He couldn’t remember being introduced and this seemed as good a time as any to become more familiar with yet another member of the Charon’s senior staff.
Turning toward the quiet officer, Lamont bowed slightly. “T'nar pak sorat y'rani, ot lan”, he said quietly greeting the woman in her native language. While not especially proficient, Lamont was versed in enough Vulcan to carry on modest conversations in the language.
If Sakarra was surprised, she gave no sign of it. Turning her attention from the PADD in her hand to the human with the unusually green eyes, she acknowledged the formal greeting with a polite incline of the head.
“Okevet-dutar. T’nar jaral.” her low, melodious voice echoed in the turbolift right before the doors hissed shut.
Rather unusual to be addressed this way by an outworlder, although of course an ambassador would be aware of basic Vulcan courtesies.
Still, the melody and emphasis used indicated either knowledge of the finer attributes of Vulcan society or an instinctive ability to use the correct tone.
Quite interesting.
The young woman let her level gaze linger on Lamont’s formal attire for a moment and found it a fine irony that this should be the same individual who not only managed to draw the CO’s ire on a regular basis, but in fact had insisted on challenging her to a fight.
Human behavior was a puzzle to the young Vulcan more often than not, however the Charon’s ambassador seemed to delight in being even more unpredictable that most representatives of his species.
Remembering M’Riarr’s account of proceedings on Lyrilla, the man seemed to be inclined towards grand gestures and had left the Caitian with the impression of a quite charming person. Taking into account of course that the large lioness always tended to assume the best of everyone until proven otherwise.
In either case, it would not do to repay such exquisite courtesy with indifferent or even brusque behavior.
“My compliments, Ian Lamont.” the raven haired Vulcan tilted her head sideways a bit while looking up at the somewhat taller human “Your accent and inflection are quite satisfactory.”
Addressing the computer, she added “Mess hall.”
“I was concerned I might be somewhat out of practice. It is refreshing to hear that this is not the case. It is not often I get a chance to practice.” Lamont paused for a brief moment. “Tell me lieutenant, do you find time to speak in your native tongue? While I am human and Federation Standard is my primary language I sometimes find that it tends to be corrosive on the other languages I have learned. With so many things, without practice and reinforcement knowledge fades. Do you experience similar sensations? I have often wondered what difficulties are encountered by the various non-human species that serve within the fleet and what effects long duration space travel has upon them.”
Still looking up at the light haired human, Sakarra favored him with an eloquently raised brow “Corrosive? An interesting choice of words, Ambassador. And no, my native tongue does not suffer from exposure to other languages. Quite the contrary. Once a language is no longer adapting and changing to meet new circumstances, one may well consider it ’dead’, whereas the modern Golic dialects are very much alive. Barring a few traditionalists who will converse in Ancient Golic whenever possible, most Vulcans tend to prefer it this way.” Almost absentmindedly, the young woman tucked a curly strand of hair behind her ear which had somehow again escaped the confines of the tightly braided knot.
“You may think of it as simply another aspect of IDIC. As for the difficulties you referred to, the one’s encountered by Vulcans are most likely different from those humans or other species experience.”
“I see”, Lamont answered. “A most insightful response. Thank you lieutenant. It is not often I have the opportunity to speak candidly with members of the crew on such topics. I have always found Vulcan insights to be quite, fascinating.”
“Indeed.” The way her brow rose by another few millimeters conveyed Sakarra’s mild amusement to someone familiar with the subtleties of Vulcan body language.
“It was my impression you can be quite candid when you choose to, ambassador.”
Lamont was about to reply when a metallic whine filled the turbocar. The unnerving sound increased in intensity until the lift harshly jarred to a full stop. The lights quickly dimmed and then failed bathing the two officers in darkness.
“Wonderful”, Lamont muttered. Feeling his way forward his fingertips grazed the cold, black panel of the computer controls. His touch activated the panel illuminating the car with a blue ethereal glow. With a pale light from the control pad Lamont could see the lift had malfunctioned. He quickly remembered the doors acting odd upon entry.
“Wonderful, ambassador?” The screeching of metal still echoed in the young woman’s sensitive ears and she resisted the urge to blink in slight irritation.
“Looks like the lift is out”, Ian said. “Controls don’t seem to be responding either. It would appear we are stuck here. It would also appear the engineers missed a few small details when repairing the damages to decks two and three after our last mission.”
“A logical assessment. If you would allow me?” Sakarra gestured towards the lift controls. Judging from the noise, this would very likely require more extensive repairs, but it never hurt to explore all options.
Lamont backed away from the panel as the Vulcan lieutenant proceeded to examine the computer. Standing in the pale blue light he watched as her fingers gracefully manipulated the controls meeting with little success.
As lieutenant Tyrax lowered her hand from the blinking and unresponsive controls, Lamont sensed a call to engineering was in order. It now appeared they would need some assistance to leave the malfunctioning car.
Small detail indeed, although with severe consequences. Sakarra realized that not only would she not be able to do anything from in here, but that the man behind her had come to the same conclusion.
The young Vulcan turned to meet the ambassador’s inquisitive gaze and nodded in confirmation.
[To Be Continued…]
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Lieutenant Sakarra Tyrax
Ambassador Ian Lamont
