"I will have to think about that then and find an acceptable piece of music for you then. Say in three or so days? I will call you then and we can discuss when it is best for us to meet for this and where to do it at?" Brent suggested as the holowaitress brought back his lemonade and he took a drink from it. What he wasn't expecting was the alcohol that the owners downstairs had decided to put in it. He had taken a large gulp of it when it turned out to be a lemondrop martini.
"What was it I was saying about people sticking their noses where they don't belong," Brent said as he shook his head to remove the slight haze that had taken ahold of him. He pushed the drink away before smiling at Sakarra.
"Certainly." The young woman nodded and then the scent of alcohol reached her nose the very moment Brent reached for the glass. Unfortunately, he seemed rather thirsty and a significant amount of the liquid was gone before Sakarra could so much as utter a word. Oh dear. Judging from his expression, someone had been quite generous with the amount of alcohol included.
"Indeed." For a Vulcan, she sounded positively exasperated, and just a tad concerned "Are you feeling well, Brent?"
It would not be the first time she might have to help a mildly intoxicated friend to reach home, but the young Marine's tall stature would possibly turn the objective into a minor challenge. Not to mention her own usually perfect coordination had been replaced by a languid elegance which might or might not be helpful.
Brent blinked and rubbed the bridge of his nose before opening his eyes again. "Yeah I should be fine. I might laugh a bit more though and stumble when I walk you to your quarters again tonight," he said. "But I suppose that you have seen a human drunk before and it shouldn't be much of a surprise to you the silly things we do while in such a state hm?"
He switched the subjects right away though. "Enough of that. In three days I'll have something for you. If you would prefer that I choose something else I will of course, just tell me right away."
The phrase 'You have no idea' sprang to mind, but Sakarra just so managed to remain silent. Nor was she inclined to divulge the interesting things an intoxicated half-Vulcan could get into.
"I will. But I suspect that whatever you choose will prove interesting."
She had already abandoned her usually most dignified, straight backed pose and had propped an elbow on the couch's armrest, safely out of view from anyone but the Marine opposite her and of course the holographic waiters floating past.
Still, she cast a glance at their surroundings before two small, elegant shoes became visible under the rustling, heavy fabric and then were left abandoned while the young Vulcan's legs moved up on the soft plush fabric and she stretched out slightly, giving a small exhale.
"You must excuse this undignified behavior, but to be honest, my feet hurt. And I do not currently have the means to … ignore this inconvenience."
Chin propped on a small hand, she nestled her back against that of the couch and pondered just how many kilometers she had walked through Charon's corridors these past weeks without so much as stopping for some coffee.
"You have no need to apologize Sakarra. That's what bars are for yeah? Relaxing enjoying yourself right?" he asked as he leaned back himself, and idle finger picking at the wall. "Well that and getting really intoxicated really fast too. I'd be remiss as a marine if I didn't mention that as well."
"Perhaps you should take the time out to relax a little bit more if your feet hurt you or try to replicate a new pair that is more comfortable? I know that I thought I was going to have to throttle the replicator before it finally produced a good pair of boots for myself."
"Usually relaxing and enjoying is not something I would care to do in public." The young Vulcan quirked a brow, her low, melodious voice echoing with barely contained amusement. "And yes, you would. However I should point out that it seems to be a tradition marines share with fighter pilots. Perhaps it is a good thing either branch has their own favored establishments, or the combined havoc would become a destructive force in its own rights. Not to mention the Captain would be most annoyed with us should we insist on such … traditions."
She watched his relaxed posture for a moment, trying to figure out how one might go about throttling a replicator and found the idea strangely humorous. "It is one of the … idiosyncrasies of Vulcans, if you will, that we are quite capable of ignoring or enduring such small discomforts. But I will indeed be grateful for some additional rest now that repairs are almost completed and the First Officer has returned to duty."
"Oh?" Brent said as she mentioned that relaxing and enjoying was not something that she cared to do in public. He should have realized that. Perhaps that's why she seemed so relaxed and almost happy after the concert with what had happened. He smiled and nodded. "I'll remember that when I ask you to do something else with me next time. I don't want you feeling as though you can't relax when you go out with me."
Brent nodded. "You had to take over the XO duties for a while didn't you? Here I thought I had it bad because I had to take over a Marine Commander's duties. I can't imagine what the XO's job must have been like."
Go out? Sakarra tilted her head to the side with just a little puzzlement but decided the phrase was very likely to be taken literally, since they had indeed spent time outside their respective quarters. And did he truly not notice she was by her standards more relaxed around him than just about any other member of the crew? Even including some she knew quite well by comparison, because in Brent's case there never was any lingering concern or the need to remain composed for the other's sake.
In fact, she felt almost as if for a change she was being cared for and it was both strange and … pleasant. "Yes, I did. Thankfully, only for a brief time. It is not an experience I should like to repeat soon, at least not without a chance to be sufficiently prepared for it." Her dark eyes suddenly held a rather thoughtful gleam but she could see nothing except polite interest and a sincere concern for her well-being.
"I would imagine though that having to take over an officer's duties has removed you from a situation more suited to your preferences, yes?"
"Well the ship did not explode, I have heard no talk of mutiny amongst the fleet crew. The Romulans were not so irate that they took the ship over. Everything seemed to go quite smoothly. I'd say you did quite a good job as the Executive Officer," he said complimenting her on a job well done. "You should tell the captain the next time she wants you to play babysitter that you want a promotion or more holodeck time," he winked at her at the joke of trying to extort the Captain.
He nodded when she mentioned his new duties. "Yeah it has. I am a fantastic sergeant. I can keep the men in line and I can make sure that they know that their LT has what's best for them and the squad in mind. Even if that LT is a terrible waste of a uniform," Brent said. "But this? It's different and I've never even been trained in this," Brent said. "I did alright the first time we went out into combat, but I still worry." He shrugged. "Then again I think all commanders feel that way at some point in time."
"Babysitter? Oh."
Well, at least she had actually understood the reference and even recognized it as humorous.
"Seeing as my holodeck time is already more than sufficient and I am quite content to remain at my current rank for as long as possible, perhaps I should consider asking a different favor. Taking the Captain's yacht for a … what is the phrase? Joyride? – would certainly be preferable to a promotion."
Sakarra blinked again at the 'waste of uniform' comment and decided that although the young marine's choice of words was certainly quite colorful, she found it increasingly difficult not to openly display her amusement. Although many assumed the contrary, Vulcans do in fact have quite a vivid imagination and it was not easy to shoo away images of Starfleet crew engaged in mutiny while Romulans cheerfully took over a ship which incidentally was about to be destroyed by a warp core breach. Adding a most bewildered Marine Lieutenant to the picture, prodded into taking action by a Sergeant voicing his displeasure in no uncertain terms – and Sakarra remembered all too well what Brent's voice could sound like in full DI modus, considering her ears had been ringing for minutes after the encounter in the hallway when she had caught the wayward Nnoil – it was almost too much.
Exhaling softly, the young Vulcan had to lower her head for 2.2 seconds or she would have betrayed herself and possibly insulted Brent by not only outright smirking at the scenario his words had evoked in her mind, but making a distinctly amused sound as well.
"But I would have to agree," she finally managed, her even, velvety voice nearly as calm as it should be "you did indeed 'do alright', and the day you ceased being concerned would be a most unfortunate one for those under your command."
"Hey there's an idea. Take the yacht out for a ride. That would be fun I'd imagine, especially for a pilot," he said with a grin. He watched her suppress her desire to laugh and smile a little bit bewildered. He didn't quite know what she was doing or why but didn't press the issue.
"Thank you for the kind words," he said and bowed his head to Sakarra as she spoke kindly of him and his ability to command. "I agree with you though. I do not like my current position but I am good at it. I will continue then if nothing else for the sake of my men and women. They deserve nothing but the best. While I am not the best I am the best that they have, so I will give them what I have." He squinted again and rubbed his eyes. "I need to find a way to thank them for that drink. Maybe I'll have a large squad wide celebration here sometime soon. Complete with lots of alcohol," Brent said as a devilish grin began to play on his face.
[To be continued …]
Brevet 1st Lieutenant Brent Warren
Marine Commander
Lt Cmdr Sakarra Tyrax
Chief Helm Officer
USS Charon
