Wednesday, May 19, 2010

[USS Charon] SD241005.19 || Joint Log "After the storm" Part II || Lt Cmdr Sakarra Tyrax, Brevet 1st Lt Brent Warren, Sajel, T'Min

=/\= Eris Deck =/\=

Brent watched his two guests jump up to their feet and immediately bow to Sakarra as she had appeared. He had considered getting up himself but his little Vulcan had beaten him to the punch and had sat down next to him before he could react. He touched her fingers with his own before their hands met and their fingers locked together as was the normal greeting for them. He withdrew his hand and nodded at her statement. "Under the circumstances I should be drinking a bottle by myself if I thought I could get away with it," he mused with a wink at his love. He motioned at the two Vulcans still standing. I met them on the Temep'Shar and promised them a drink when things were right again in the world. I offered it to them and invited them to sit with us, I hope you don't mind too much," he said before he looked at the two Vulcans inquisitively. "I don't believe I caught your names yet..."


"Sajel." The tall male with silver temples gave another brief half-bow and waited for his companion to retake her seat before doing the same.

"T'Min." Steepling her fingers under her chin in a thoughtful way, the elder woman studied the young couple across the table. Considerable familiarity, though perfectly within the bounds of what a Vulcan would care to show in public - and still there were currents in those dark eyes that suggested just how thin the veil was that cast the shine of serenity over elegant features.


"A bottle all by yourself? That would be rather sad, not to mention slightly rude." Sakarra stated good naturedly "And I certainly do not 'mind' although I should think the zhel-lan and the lady T'Min will prefer the ch'aal over Scotch."

It was just like Brent to take matters in stride and make unlikely acquaintances while the rest of the ship was still in a state of mild shock. And as always, his indomitable spirit struck a chord within the young Vulcan, letting her dark eyes shine with a silent smile.


"So we do, ohashsu." A velvety black brow rose slightly at the elder Vulcan's words but Sajel determined the one called Sakarra was not displeased – mildly amused, rather. "It is you then who provided the tea?"

She merely nodded and made a small dismissive gesture, a clear sign the matter was not worth further discussion and then the ebony skinned cook was upon them, making what was commonly referred to as a 'fuss' over her newest charges. Correction, the marine was obviously a highly favored person as well.


"I have some vegetarian Jambalaya for your little lady and a Porterhouse with your name on it, marine. Unless you'd like to go for seafood today?" flashing a brilliant smile, the cook patted broad shoulders and made a small clucking sound at the two other Vulcans – much too thin. Someone would have to feed those poor things.


Brent watched the exchange between his love and the Vulcans with a bit of curiosity. They had acted a bit peculiar when she had arrived, standing up immediately and giving a courteous bow. That wasn't something he had seen happen very often. Not even with that one uppity bitch that was sent here to find the Temep'Shar, he hadn't witnessed some behavior like that. And Brent had monitored their behavior after a while when it was clear that they were up to no good. Something was definitely going on here. He could tell that there was some meaning behind it, and perhaps it would do best to investigate this further.

"Let's stick with the porterhouse. I've had too much go on to not enjoy a big steak after today," he said and ordered himself a glass of red wine for when the steak arrived. He motioned for the Vulcans to join them again at the table.  "I'd recommend the pasta, she does an excellent job," he said to the new Vulcans.


It was difficult for Sakarra to not show more than the glimmer of mild amusement when Miss Betty proceeded to elaborate on Brent's suggestion and turned her sparkling smile towards the mildly bemused other Vulcans. It had taken her some time to stop blinking at the chief cook's open and uninhibited shows of affection, though one had to give the woman credit for not being as exuberant about it as some other individuals. For someone unaccustomed to it however it had to be … slightly overwhelming.

In the end, the food question was settled to Miss Betty's satisfaction and several kitchen aides could be seen scrambling once the magnificent dark skinned woman swooped back into her domain like a galleon under full sails.


"Is this customary?" It was obvious that despite his stoic features, Sajel was at once intrigued and still in the process of absorbing the experience. Seeing as the young one seemed entirely unmoved by being showered with such attention, logic suggested she was either a most balanced individual or used to this type of treatment. Mayhap both applied in some form.


"Our chief cook has a tendency to display favoritism, zhel-lan. However, in this case I should think her behavior can be explained with a deeply rooted distaste for seeing aught but a perfectly nourished crew." Sakarra sensed the smile tugging at her Companion's lips and quirked an eloquent brow. "By Miss Betty's logic, your presence here makes you part of this crew and therefore her responsibility. I find it prudent to indulge her in such matters as she is a most determined person who will not … take 'no' for an answer as it were."


Two almost perfectly synchronous nods of acknowledgement commented this statement before T'Min proceeded to pick up her tea again. Numerous questions were on the Vulcan woman's mind – thirty-two to be precise, with seventy-three less pressing ones – but each and every one would be rude to ask at this point. So she contented herself with watching silently, fully aware that she was being watched by deep blue eyes in return.


A glass of wine and a liquid with refreshingly citrusy scent arrived, inexplicably prompting another smirk from the human and the young one's elegantly slanted brow climbing another full three millimeters.

"May I assume it is because your Captain is of the Sundered that your ship has been allowed to explore this region? I have noticed that approximately seventeen point five percent of your crew are Rihannsu as well." Sajel's even baritone interrupted T'Min's ponderings as well as the quite interesting silent interaction between the young Yel-Halitra officer and the human.


Brent shrugged. "I came in late to this little party on the ship," Brent said as he gently tapped at his glass of scotch with one finger. "I don't believe it is because she's Romulan. I think they gave the position to her because she was Romulan to avoid tensions somewhere along the line. On which side of the Neutral zone was she supposed to relieve tensions? I couldn't tell you," Brent took a drink of his scotch before he looked again at two of the newest Vulcans on the ship. "I imagine it will be cause for quite a bit of a commotion now that you two are longer MIA or presumed dead. A cause for celebration," Brent said. Mischief was a light in Brent's eyes as under the table one of his hands leaned over and gently pinched at Sakarra's side. "Wouldn't you say so my love?" he asked her.


She neither flinched nor quirked a brow though a vigilant observer might have noticed an aristocratic nose wrinkling for a mere split-second. What was even more interesting, T'Min was fairly certain that for a moment the sound of tiny silver bells had emanated from somewhere in the vicinity of the younger woman's ankle – well, for a Vulcan, 98 point seven percent probability qualifies as fairly certain. Unfortunately, if there was any meaning to the silent interaction the proverbial punch line was lost on T'Min.


Sajel on the other hand seemed perfectly at ease though he had to be just as puzzled.

"By 'party' I assume you are inferring that the Charon has experienced some tumultuous times, yes?"

The exhale and near imperceptibly canted head that was as close to a snort as the young woman was obviously going to show told the elder Vulcan that 'tumultuous' was perhaps an understatement.

Calm, dark eyes studied both the marine and the young pilot, but the arrival of several plates with food put a brief halt to any conversation, silent or not.


Most agreeable, not only in scent and taste. It was obvious this ship's cook was not only experienced in preparing dishes that raised astonished eyebrows but took delight in exercising her abilities.

"If Shiarrael t`Rehu was put in command to avoid tension," the young one's melodious voice floated across the table, carrying a distinct timbre of mild amusement "there was either a grave oversight on the part of Starfleet or unwarranted optimism. The Captain is rather … straightforward in her manners."

T'Min's brief sideways nod would have translated into 'Go figure' among a host of other species. Still, gratitude was in order – if Charon's Captain was somewhat … eccentric, it was not her place to point out the illogic.



=/\= To be continued =/\=


Brevet 1st Lieutenant Brent Warren
Marine Commander


LtCmdr Sakarra Tyrax

Chief Helm


USS Charon


Sajel & T'Min