Brent took his seat down on the floor as well on a different pillow, leaning his back against a wall. "Thank you," he said taking the glass from her and taking a sip of water. "Did you find the piece very hard to learn or sing," he asked her.
She had picked up the Ka'athyra and leaned her cheek against the polished wood, tuning the strings with practiced fingers. "Difficult? No. But certainly challenging."
Compared to the range that a great number of Vulcan musical pieces required, ancient Terran opera was of moderate difficulty. It was grasping the intent and flow, relating to and 'feeling' the music which often proved a hurdle. But every time Sakarra had a chance to immerse herself in a new piece, she gained a new facet of understanding.
She looked up at Brent who was shifting slightly on the pillow, watching her intently, and took a moment to appreciate his appearance.
"I must admit however, I was surprised by your choice. A quite unusual piece. The theme could almost be Vulcan."
Love and death, despair and hope, she had spent quite a few moments staring at the screen with a cocked head when the translation had taken shape before her.
"I'm glad I picked something then to your talent level," he said before he finally settled down. Her comment about how it was almost Vulcan made him crack a smile. "Oh really? I didn't know that such passionate and dark music was composed on Vulcan. I might have to start to expand my musical tastes then," he said before an idea hit him. "Would you be willing to help me translate it? A translator's job is never as good as someone who speaks the native language and is a musician at heart."
Sakarra nodded slowly and tucked a few stray curls behind an elegantly tapered ear before gentle fingers traveled across the lyre's strings. A low, pleasant hum filled the room, flowing into every corner like a breeze stirring over the Voroth Sea.
"Hm."
A slight adjustment perhaps? There was too much energy driving the sound, an echo of fierce determination that seemed … no, actually, it was strangely fitting. At least in this subtle manner, merely an undercurrent woven into a much larger fabric.
"Passion and darkness are every Vulcan's closest companions, Brent." She looked up once more, hands resting lightly against the still vibrating strings. "It is part of the reason why we choose to be what we are. And it is yet another matter we do not often share with others. To be feared may have merit to some, to a Vulcan it is… an unpleasant experience." And that was putting it mildly. To evoke fear in a stranger was unsettling, to sense it from one who was considered an acquaintance, possibly friend … painful did not begin to describe it.
"And yes, I would be most gratified to translate for you.'
When her questioning gaze was met by blue eyes sparkling with anticipation, she gave a brief nod and the opening chord was soon joined by a sure, soaring soprano. 'La mamma morta', the tale of a revolution ages past, but the theme was one that rung true millennia before and would likely still do so in those to come.
Brent nodded at her explanation. He closed his eyes as he saw her begin to sing as he began to listen. After a few moments of hearing her sing he opened his eyes again to watch her there in the dim light. He refused to interrupt her as she sang and stayed still there with his eyes intently watching her. He had heard the music many times before, to an accompanying piano and countless other instruments. Somehow this one felt perfect for him. Brent watched her as he fought the ever growing urge to interrupt her.
She had been too absorbed to notice anything but the simple fact of his presence, but as Sakarra's voice flowed into silence, she picked up just a small thread of … not restlessness but something close, from the Marine sitting close by.
The lyre still vibrated with the last, barely audible harmonics when Sakarra tilted her head inquisitively, the faraway look in her dark eyes slowly returning to the usual calm.
Words were not easy to come by after he had heard her sing. He nodded his head in his approval, almost like he was on the brink of showing emotion but was keeping it back. In order to maintain his control instead of shedding a tear for such beautiful music he sat up, moving over on his hands and legs till he was very close to Sakarra. Still unable to articulate the feelings he had for her singing he kissed her, his lips pressing against her as a very inadequate show of appreciation for what she had just gifted him with.
One could hardly have asked for a better demonstration of approval. Still cradling the Ka'athyra in her lap, Sakarra felt the smile dawning in her eyes when he moved close and exhaled softly, abandoning herself to the sensation of that tender kiss.
Not unlike the vibrations of sound that still emanated from the lyre, too low to be heard by all but the most sensitive ears, her body responded with the smallest of shivers traveling down her spine and she cherished that as well.
Slowly and carefully a warm hand came to rest against his shoulder, sensing the muscles moving underneath skin and fabric, and she just so resisted the temptation to pull him closer here and now. It would be hilarious for certain if they both toppled over with the lyre still between them, but it would likely result in a few more bruises as well.
It was after a few minutes later that Brent very reluctantly backed away from the kiss. They were still incredibly close to one another, as he looked down to her with his deep blue eyes he finally spoke quietly. "I don't have the vocabulary to tell you just how beautiful that truly was. I'm not sure even linguists could do that justice," he said before he leaned in for a quick kiss.
"You are incredibly gifted you know," he said before again with a great deal of reluctance Brent rolled off of Sakarra, laying down beside her on the floor. "Why do you not share your gift with others? While I am not you and we were raised in very different societies, if I had been gifted with all of 'William's gift' I would be giving a 'viewing' or a small concert for any who wanted to attend. You should not hide that which you are blessed with." A rather devilish though passed his mind but he dismissed it in a moment.
"Oh?" There was a certain undertone in his voice that caused a slanted brow to rise ever so eloquently and with the air of a woman completely incapable of any but the purest thoughts Sakarra placed the lyre back into its usual spot.
Her expression was so innocent as to be near angelic when she gently nudged Brent onto his back and effortlessly positioned herself on top of him, revealing bare, golden toned legs in the process.
Face hovering just a few centimeters from his, she let him feel the heat radiating off her for a few heartbeats "Viewing rather than hiding? Am I to assume then you would be in favor of Starfleet returning to the old uniform style when women wore … less?" in stark contrast to her face, Sakarra's voice was deep and alluring, but tinged with a definitive note of mischief.
Before he could answer, the young Vulcan sat up, still straddling the Marine and keeping him pinned to the floor – although he probably could have freed himself without major difficulty. Her lips were still flushed from the kiss earlier and slowly, they curled into a smile.
"I certainly won't argue against pleasant displays. But have you considered the possible consequences?"
Brent laid back on the floor and looked up at Sakarra with a smile while she pinned him to the floor. He laughed softly as his hands began to move. "Viewing rather than hiding? Hmm. Yes I suppose that is the most appropriate way to describe that thing," he said as he let his fingertips slowly graze up legs. "I always thought that was why Kirk was always so lucky during his term in Starfleet. Everyone was dressed to kill. The women and the men," he replied.
"Mmm. You do have a point. I am kind of greedy like that. Terribly green eyed when it comes down to it sometimes. It's one of my less refined traits I'm afraid," he said, letting his hands rest on her legs, dangerously close to her waist.
[To be continued …]
Brevet 1st Lieutenant Brent Warren
Marine Commander
Lt Cmdr Sakarra Tyrax
Chief Helm
USS Charon
