U.S.S. Charon
“Aerial Diplomacy – Part Five”
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[…Continued From Part Four]
He again looked into her black eyes. He was unable to look away despite the awkwardness of the moment. There was something there he couldn’t explain, but fascinated him all the same. Fighting through the wall of inexplicable feelings within him, Lamont again noticed the lieutenant’s leg injury. “Please forgive me Lieutenant, but I cannot have the ship’s second officer limping and bleeding down the hallway. Allow me to assist.” Picking Sakarra up, Ian carefully, but firmly lifted the woman upwards and carried her toward sickbay despite her preclusion to protest. He was a gentleman after all and felt compelled to render aid.
The half-formed protest died on the young woman’s lips just as a most inappropriate urge to chuckle made itself felt. It seemed to become a recurring theme, first M’Riarr and now the ambassador, feeling compelled to carry Sakarra towards sickbay as if she were.. well, what? Incapable of walking? It would be irritating if it wasn’t so… touching, in a way. And just as she had in the large lionesses’ arms, she decided to let her good humor overrule the annoyance and relaxed in acceptance.
Logically, it was the only thing she could do unless she wanted to punch an already unsettled human. After all, his demeanor suggested quite clearly that drastic measures might be required to derail Mr Lamont from his current course. Sakarra wasn’t quite prepared to further shake the man’s composure by showing too overt signs of displeasure.
Truth be told, if only he’d stop talking the sensation really was not all that objectionable. Stirring ever so slightly in his arms, she nestled more comfortably against his chest and wondered if he was hurt after all and simply not aware of it, because he definitely winced for the fraction of a second.
“Lieutenant Sakarra, I must thank you for your actions.” He noticed the officer begin to speak but continued without pause. “While you will no doubt indicate that your actions were the only logical ones and that you were performing your duty, I would ask that you please indulge my human need to sincerely thank you. Indeed I wish to show my appreciation in some way.”
“You are quite correct Mr Lamont in that there is no need to express your gratitude in any way. Although I do appreciate the courtesy of a simple thank you.” placing light emphasis on the word ‘simple’, Sakarra realized that he was looking at her again rather than pay attention to where he was going. Either the ambassador knew his way to sickbay very well indeed or they would inevitably be stopped by a bulkhead at one time or another.
The young woman was about to point out this very obvious fact, when Lamont started talking again. Truly, the man was unstoppable, no?
“Might I repay your actions with dinner sometime soon? In my time on Vulcan I acquired some recipes and culinary skills which I have not practiced in some time. I would be honored if you would permit me the opportunity to repay you for your actions today once your injuries are attended to. I believe I have a small supply of ch’aal (rare Vulcan spiced tea) which I would greatly enjoy sharing. Will you accept?”
He realized this was a poor place and time to make such a request, but he was unable to help himself.
“Perhaps another time, ambassador.” Although the prospect of a quiet glass of tea was certainly appealing at the moment, Sakarra had her doubts that the combination of tea and quiet might be attainable when one added Lamont to the equation.
Although he seemed sincere enough in his desire to be nothing but a perfect gentleman, she found it rather odd that the man would ask her for dinner while she was quite literally in his arms and leaving little drops of blood on his already slightly ruffled attire. Matter of fact, even his usually impeccably groomed hair which tended to remind Sakarra of nei-savas leaves bleached by the desert sun, was positively disheveled by now.
“Understandable”, Lamont stated carefully hiding his disappointment. “This is perhaps an inappropriate time to have made such a request. Perhaps another time then.”
“Sickbay”, Lamont said a few quiet moments later stepping through the sliding doors into the cold, sterile environment of the ship’s medical facilities. Moving quickly to a biobed, Lamont carefully released Sakarra into its blue cushions stepping back only slightly as the medical personnel approached. Looking down he could see several splotches of green blood on his uniform.
Quite fascinating, to be handled as if one was a fragile item. As the familiar figure of the Vulcan healer approached, Sakarra briefly inclined her head towards Lamont to indicate her appreciation and that he might as well get himself looked at now, but again he seemed unwilling to leave her proximity.
The whirring of a medical tricorder caught the young woman’s attention, and she returned the healer’s quizzical look with a raised brow of her own.
“Dana’voh, t’sai?”
“Rihagik, ohassu.”
“Ha, ken-tor.”
Assured the lieutenant was being adequately cared for and that her injuries were not severe, Ian returned to Sakarra’s bedside despite an objectionable glance from the medical personnel.
“Nemaiyo ot-lan.” (Thank you lieutenant)
“I believe ‘you are welcome’ is the appropriate response.”
The healer was busying himself with a dermal regenerator, having removed the remains of the torn and stained fabric from the young woman’s leg.
Sakarra could not help but notice that the other Vulcan was about to make a rather dry comment about the ambassador’s behavior but a brief glance out of black eyes stopped him in his tracks.
“Ish-veh komihn.”
The healer’s subtle expression conveyed clearly that he considered that no sufficient excuse for the ambassador to keep getting in the way, but he kept his peace all the same.
“Is there anything you require given your current status?”
Returning her focus towards Lamont, Sakarra tilted her head. Current status? Well, yes, any number of things came to mind but the most immediate concerns were already being taken care of. As for the rest..
“No ambassador, I believe I will be quite fine, thank you.”
“Then I shall take my leave. If you need or desire anything please let me know. Rom-halan (farewell).”
“And you, ambassador.” The young woman gave another courteous nod towards the human and then stretched her leg in an almost leisurely way. Well, good as new if one overlooked the dried blood and all.
The healer focused his attention towards her shoulder and Sakarra almost automatically slowed her breathing, relaxing against the practiced hands.
As the familiar sensation of fingertips seeking out the correct pressure points washed over her, the young woman’s eyes closed in a fashion that could be called languid, were she not a Vulcan.
Ian lingered for a time detained by a nurse that was insistent on finding some trace of injury despite his assurance he was indeed well. After prying himself free of the obsessive doctors, Ian made his way out of sickbay. He needed a cold shower and a stiff drink. His head was awash in mixed emotions and thoughts which were as pleasurable as they were irrational and unpredictable. He was a grown man and the ship’s ambassador – so then why did he feel giddy like a teen adolescent? Shaking his head in an attempt to clear the swirling, conflicting feelings within him, Lamont headed toward his quarters struggling to digest everything that had occurred. His life had been saved by the Vulcan lieutenant and were it not for her he would likely been found in several pieces at the bottom of the turboshaft. Despite most Vulcans’ unyielding modesty, Lamont felt compelled to thank the lieutenant with something other than words.
Such things weighed heavily on him as he made his way back to his quarters via ladders reluctant to immediately resume use of the turbolifts so soon after his recent brush with mortality. As his thoughts ebbed and flowed he became aware of another problem he needed to address, but for that he would require help. Finding someone who wouldn’t laugh at him would most likely prove to be more difficult than the goal itself.
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Dana’voh, t’sai - lit. “Would you elaborate, lady” / fig. “What the hell happened?”
Rihagik, ohassu. - lit. “Difficult, healer” / fig. “Long story, doctor.”
Ha, ken-tor. - lit. “Yes, understood.” / in this context: “Go figure.”
~ FIN ~
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Lieutenant Sakarra Tyrax
Ambassador Ian Lamont
