The young Vulcan nodded approval at Brent's choice – a marvelous view of the planet with a backdrop of stars, unobstructed by the fleet facilities. As a pilot, Sakarra never quite grew tired of watching starships perform their graceful dances in orbit, even though those particular ones had the elegant but silently threatening lines of Rihannsu Warbirds rather than the gleaming silver hulls of Federation ships or even the graceful dark red shapes of a Vulcan Yel-hal'ay.
For a moment, she wondered what might have prompted the smirk – perhaps she had not understood a humorous reference again?
But before she could inquire, he withdrew the chair and the young woman settled down with her usual fluid grace, nodding a courteous thank you, and Miss Betty emerged at speed from her kitchen, smiling rather profusely. For the briefest moment, the young marine's hands lingered on the chair and brushed against Sakarra's shoulders before withdrawing but she had no time to ponder the sensation as the Chief Cook was now literally upon them, setting down a glass with fresh Vulcan Spiced tea before stemming her hands into her hips.
"About time you showed your face here again, sweetheart. And before you ask, yes I have vegetarian foods for you. I always do. Lasagna?"
"Certainly, Miss Betty. I should appreciate that."
Turning to Brent, Betty smiled even wider if such a thing was even possible "What can I get you then, young man?"
Brent didn't let his hands linger for very long and was soon sitting down opposite of Sakarra at the little table there near the window. "Hm? Yeah. How about.." Brent thought about it for a moment or two. He did love steak. Like most Marines he knew he loved steak a lot, medium rare to be exact. With mushrooms and potatoes and prawns... The idea made him hungry. However... He looked over at Sakarra for a half a second before he announced his choice.
"Pasta Alfredo. Mushrooms, little bits of broccoli, and shrimp in it if you would please," Brent said with a smile. "Oh and another glass of water please." Brent then poured two glasses of the whiskey for Sakarra and himself, passing her the glass first. "I suppose I should have asked this beforehand. Would you like yours on the rocks?"
Titling her head to the side, Sakarra studied the young Marine's face for a moment. Perhaps it was merely a human idiosyncrasy, but to one accustomed to the subtleties of Vulcan body language it seemed rather obvious that his smile changed slightly when addressing her rather than Miss Betty.
Well, it would be logical to be fond of the person who provided food.
"No, I do prefer such beverages undiluted." She motioned to the whiskey "On the rare occasions I allow myself to … indulge, at least."
With a radiant smile, the Chief Cook marched back towards her kitchen, waving greetings to crewmembers on the way, and Sakarra picked up the hot tea, inhaling the familiar scent of fresh herbs. Unfortunately, Mr Grax had observed the Marine bringing the whiskey along and the young Vulcan's sensitive ears already picked up the words "Dalaria" and "Trade Conference" in the general conversation around them.
Oh dear.
Gossip did indeed travel faster than warp ten.
Brent took another drink of his water that he had gotten. He waited until Sakarra had put down her cup of tea before he raised the glass of whiskey to Sakarra. "A toast perhaps?" he said. "To new friends, born in adversity, may they always be with us," he winked at her as he made the vague reference to the holodeck when it shorted out.
It was an appropriate statement if one considered the circumstances and Sakarra picked up the glass, a spark of humor shining in the deep pools of her eyes.
"Indeed." She nodded and raised the glass, but as soon as she brought it close to her lips, the strong but most agreeable scent of the whiskey made her inhale sharply. Apparently, Brent had chosen one of the rare and quite flavorful varieties.
"Oh, goodness" she managed after a cautious sip. It was in fact very good.
Brent took a sip from his drink before letting out a sigh of contentment. "Indeed. That was quite good. I was surprised when I saw that he had a bit of it in stock. I guess luck was simply on my side," Brent set the drink down so as to not drink too much on an empty stomach. He leaned back in his chair ever so slightly before sitting up straight again.
"So, if you don't mind me asking Sakarra. What got you so interested in flying? Was it your first choice back in the Academy?"
"It was the logical choice." The young woman stated levelly. Somewhat surprising he had not yet heard some of the stories floating about Charon, courtesy of some resourceful officers and a Betazoid whose uncle lived near Arandel spaceport, but she had no objection to Brent not engaging in gossip. Quite the contrary.
"My occupation before joining Starfleet was that of a fighter pilot. However, it was my hope to be assigned to an exploration ship and those require different piloting skills."
She steepled her fingers under her chin in a deeply thoughtful gesture, while outside the large window deep green ships broke the darkness with their twinkling running lights.
"However, you might say I had an affinity for flying from a very early age, much to the exasperation of my parents. What of you? Was it your first choice to join the Corps, or was it merely a means to leave farming behind?"
Brent chuckled at her guess as to why he joined the Corps and nodded. "A little from column A and a little from Column B. I have had uncles and aunts that served in the Corps and during holidays when the large extended family would get together I would hear all kinds of stories from the stars. My father of course disapproved of such silly notions saying that they had to stay where they belonged on the planet."
There was a little hint of background music going on and Brent had his glass of ice water in his right hand gently moving the ice around to the major notes that he could pick out. "So I left when I was eighteen enjoying my freedom and pissing off my father quite well. I even tried to take William with me, which I think was the biggest thing that made him mad. William is my older brother, my oldest sibling. He is the one who is supposed to inherit the farm back home. I kept in contact with him outside of basic, I think he's going to stay there; he really likes it there now. So getting away from farming and hoping to have a grand time in the Corps was what drove me to where I am today."
"A grand time? I assume you are referring to what humans call 'adventures', yes?"
Rather than send a holographic waitress, Betty obviously had decided to dote upon the stubborn Vulcan and approached with two plates in hand, greeted by many friendly waves and a few good-natured protests concerning favoritism. Silently, Sakarra suspected this was merely the Chief Cooks way of ensuring the young Vulcan did not attempt an untimely escape.
Setting down her glass of tea, Sakarra thanked the good cook in an outright friendly fashion and was rewarded with another broad smile. As Betty bustled off to hopefully focus her kind efforts on someone else, Sakarra returned her dark gaze to the marine.
"Your homeworld has patriarchal structures, then? Or is it simply custom that the eldest child inherits?"
Brent paused for a moment. There actually was a good reason for it, it had to do with the genetics and how they had to restart the colony from almost nothing. She had asked him and she seemed genuinely interested. "Actually its patraliner I think is the proper word. It dates back to the crash landfall that we experienced. There was barely enough men and women that survived the first few days to restart a stable colony. They had to abandon monogamy in favor of the practice of genetic diversity. It became like a commune because of that. Every healthy able bodied man was required to have three children with different women. The children were given a 'dog tag' so to speak of their lineage to avoid close inbreeding and slowly things began to return to normal. After a generation or two like that the genetic diversity was strong enough to go back to monogamous relationships. Some families like my own took up having a great deal of children to help populate the planet and help out on the farm."
Brent smiled slightly. "I guess that doesn't really answer your question. We trace our lineage back by our fathers and because of that and mostly we inherit based on our first born sons. Mothers and daughters are just as important these days and I can trace my mother's family back several generations, but at some point in time it gets very muddy and hard to ascertain who was my great ancestor and who simply helped raise an ancestor of mine. The practice is going out of fashion these days especially with the continued integration into the Federation; people are trying to adapt more diverse view on inheritance. Not that I think my sisters would accept the farm even if my father offered it to them.."
[To be continued …]
Brevet 1st Lieutenant Brent Warren
Marine Commander
Lt Cmdr Sakarra Tyrax
Chief Helm Officer
USS Charon
