Popular Post Dekas Posted March 14, 2024 Popular Post Posted March 14, 2024 This JP between @Karrod Niac writing for Saros, and @Alieth is so pleasant and funny. And it was really nice to see more of Alieth's life. Beautiful. Also quite funny in some parts. Quote ((OOC: We picked up Saros during our brief layover at DS33 to offload the evacuees prior to heading to Ferenginar.)) ((Guest Quarters, Vulcan Civilian Transport Saavik, Near Deep Space Thirty Three)) Within his spartan guest quarters on the Vulcan transport Saavik a single flame burned in the prayer lamp upon the small shelf by the viewport. The flame flickered as the starfield beyond shifted, flattening back to distant points of light as the ship dropped out of warp. He found it agreeable to have finally reached his destination and extinguished the flame before packing away his few belongings and readying himself to disembark. As he moved towards the airlock he took a few moments to consider his journey which, while long, had been largely unremarkable in detail. He found within himself an odd echo of longing, of some entirely illogical desire for something unusual to have happened on his journey. It was the same atypical stirring that had driven him to take the journey itself, to leave the agreeable and familiar sands of home for this distant corner of the Federation. To suggest he simply missed his daughter, who had spent much of the last decade even further removed from home, would have been entirely inappropriate. The small Starfleet space station at which his daughter’s vessel was currently moored proved to be an efficient design and after his long journey here, Saros of Vulcan found himself oddly hesitant while approaching the secured airlock. He had considered what he would say to Alieth often, but now that the moment had arrived, he found himself less certain of his footing. He tapped at a comm panel and scrolled through a directory until he found the listing he was searching for. Saros: =/\= I desire to board this vessel so that I may speak with my daughter, Alieth of Vulcan. =/\= In his quarters and asleep until a moment ago, Karrod started awake and fumbled for the comm panel on his nightstand. His mind took a bit to catch up as he tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes. When he realized the comm line was still open and awaiting his response, he sat up and swung his legs to the ground, tugging his beard into order as he spoke. Niac: =/\= …. I’m sorry, did you say your daughter is Lt. Cmdr. Alieth? =/\= Outside the airlock, Saros pursed his lips. Saros: =/\= I have never found it necessary to refer to her by her Starfleet rank, but that is correct. May I come aboard? =/\= Within his quarters, Karrod smirked at the dry tone that seemed at once so different and yet so familiar. There was some ineffable quality to the man's voice that instantly reminded him of Alieth which went beyond accent or tone. The word Niac offered to describe it, from its less sleep-deprived collection of consciousnesses, was ‘playful.’ Niac: =/\= Absolutely sir, but if you’ll wait a few minutes, I’ll come down to the airlock to escort you myself. I have the strangest feeling I’m not going to want to miss this. =/\= Saros: =/\= That is acceptable. =/\= ((A few minutes later, outside Lt. Cmdr. Alieth’s Quarters, Compartment 0303, Deck 14, USS Ronin)) There were rare instances in which Alieth would deliberately choose to sleep. First, because given her nature, she seldom needed it, so a deep meditation or a light sleep for a few hours was more than enough to sustain her seemingly inexorable and fierce energy. And secondly, because when she DID choose to sleep, it was to do it thoroughly, deeply, and in what resembled a self-induced coma rather than anything else. That was one of those precious few days. She had taken all her blankets, her own, the replicated, and the gifted ones, and had cocooned herself in the bed, walled in with a pile of pillows and the massive, soft, warm, and comfortable shape of Cheesecake. The mastiff had been clean, brushed and freshly shampooed, primarily to avoid offending Alieth's delicate nose, and so she could rest her head against the silky side, fingers entwined in the soft tresses that padded the crook beneath her collar. She snored. And so did the Vulcan, softly, against the soft fur. And then. The door rang. Perhaps on another occasion she wouldn't even have heard it, and whoever expected her to give up her well-deserved rest for any foolishness would be left waiting until morning. But, alas, Cheesecake's protective instinct kicked in with the door chime, so she rose up to her paws in a quick jump, and barked in defiant outrage at the door. Subsequently, Alieth was sent flying along with blankets, cushions and mattress and landed on a pile of books, knocking over several of the paintings she had hanging on the wall and two cacti that, fortunately, failed to end up stuck in any painful part of her anatomy. Nevertheless, this graceless awakening was at least somewhat painful for her. Still semi-wrapped in what was left of her cushioned cocoon, her hair tousled on one side and flat on the other, her nightclothes disarranged, her eyes barely open and that expression that in preterite times would have come with a dagger and a declaration of war, she dragged her feet towards the door, determined to fulminate with a glance and a word at whoever dared to be at her door. She did not ask whom this was, but instead she just flung the door open, one hand still clutching the outermost blanket, only to find two men in front of her. Her eyes swept from the centre of their frames, which was more or less where her myopic eyesight fell at first, slowly creeping upwards towards their faces. One was tall, bulky, somewhat grizzled, and with what might well be a living (but magnificent) creature glued to the lower part of its face. The other, of identical height, but so lanky that seemed even taller, greying hair neatly slicked back and an incongruous stubble that she was too familiar with. Alieth: Capt-sa-mekh2–ain?!?!?! Taking in the disheveled state of his daughter and her quarters along with the large and energetic canine with whom she cohabited in a single glance, Saros quirked an eyebrow. Saros: It is agreeable to discover that you have not changed in our time apart, ko-fu1. The petite Vulcan woman opened her mouth. She closed it. She raised a hand. She lowered it to grasp the blankets that threatened to slip away from her figure. Not only that, but she opened her mouth once more and, eventually, closed it tightly, having lost the argument she had played out in her own head, as if it were a game of Kal-toh. Karrod strangled a laugh as urgently as he could, desperately trying not to lose his composure as Cheesecake continued to borf behind his stupefied looking Chief Science Officer. There really were some quiet joys to being in command that no manual or course or seminar could ever properly explain. Niac: I would’ve called ahead, Lieutenant Commander, but….well, no, this was worth it. Sir…I’ll leave you in the Commander’s more than capable hands. Please consider yourself an honored guest of the ship while you’re aboard. Burning the delightfully disheveled image of Lt. Cmdr. Alieth into his mind, Karrod turned and headed back towards the turbolift with a smile on his lips. Even in her state of exhaustion and stupefied surprise, Alieth registered that expression, which pushed the rematch with the captain up a few positions. That fact could not evolve into the violent urge she had felt in the aftermath of the last mission, however, as someone else seized her attention. Saros: Would you prefer me to remain standing in this hallway, ko-fu, or shall we converse in more private surroundings? I must admit, I do find this hallway agreeably restrained as far as Starfleet sensibilities go. The gray of the carpeting is particularly inoffensive. Though it was as dry as the sands of home, the barest hint of bemusement coloured Saros’s words. Alieth: Indeed, sa-mekh1, please come in. She stepped aside as she spoke and held out one arm in invitation, as she rested her other palm on Cheesecake's head, who had barely stopped barking a few seconds before. With a tiny nod of his head, Saros stepped inside, deftly avoiding the large and energetic animal his daughter had chosen to keep close at hand. The dog looked up at him imploringly. Saros: Your large canine appears to require something of me, ko-fu. Alieth: Sa-mekh1, as I informed you during my sabbatical on Vulcan last year, Earth canids require tactile interaction with the people they consider part of their pack. :: Looking down at CC who was wagging her tail animatedly, large beady eyes locked on the face of the tallest Vulcan:: Cheesecake requests that you engage with her, and, potentially, that you call her a "good girl." Once again, arching an eyebrow, Saros reexamined the pet. Saros: Is that not the name of a human dish? It hardly seems suitable for a creature of this….bulk. The younger Vulcan's face twitched faintly, not into a grimace, which would have been inappropriate, but into something akin to a pout. Alieth: It is certainly not logical, but humans tend to find it appropriate, which facilitates her socialization. Names related to highly sugary foods make up 43.446% of human pet names and are short enough to elicit a response from the animal 60.74893% of times. I also considered Captain Flufferpaws Cloudbutt, but decided it was too verbose. As she explained this, he turned his attention back towards the canine that was now eagerly rubbing against his leg. Quickly processing and integrating this insight into Terran domesticated animal handling, Saros fixed the canine with a look and offered his hand in respectful greeting. Saros: You are an adequate canine. ::At the dog's continued imploring look:: You are a very adequate canine. The dog, entirely contented by his lavish praise, slathered his offered hand with saliva before settling at his feet with a heavy huff of fur and paw. Alieth:Allow me a moment to spruce myself up. She didn't let a moment's request to be denied, she didn't wait in the room, but dragging the half discarded cocoon behind her, she processioned into the innermost parts of her quarters, picking up a few loose objects that littered her path, without finishing picking up everything in her swift retreat. Perhaps, in fact, this small act made the mess behind her more obvious. After her temporary departure, a quiet moment filled the quarters, and Saros found himself contemplating the space. While his daughter's quarters did not conform to the austere and fanatically precise level of organization and cleanliness that her mother had always insisted on, he found the level of personal disarray quite agreeable. As Cheesecake had so politely demonstrated, Saros located a pillow that was only mildly covered in canine dander and seated himself on the floor without a word. The dog's head was in his lap a moment later, and he felt an odd compulsion to rhythmically stroke the beings' cranium. Cheesecake flatulated loudly, which, while profoundly distressing to his sense of smell, Saros took as a sign of approval. As the mastiff's wagging tail was beginning to create a convective air current that spread the stench in the surrounding area in a frankly efficient manner, Alieth finally reappeared, dressed in a casual tunic and with her hair somewhat fixed but still frankly flattened on one side. At least the bedclothes and nightclothes were gone, giving her a slight appearance of being somewhat more awake. She picked up a pillow on her way back and pushed a table up to place it more squarely between her and her father, before plopping down on the cushion in much the same way Cheesecake had done just a few minutes before. She folds her hands in front of her and stares at them for 4.7658 seconds before looking up at her father's long, angular face. Alieth: Father, a query He quirked an eyebrow once again. Saros: You have rarely preceded a question with a question in the past, daughter. I see no reason for you to begin doing so now. One corner of Alieth's mouth curled into the tiniest hint of a playful smile, though the expression disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Alieth: Do you require tea? He nodded, a sense of genuine appreciation at the small but significant gesture. Saros: At my age, daughter, tea is indeed a requirement. In fact, I have been exploring several new blends of late. Have you ever experimented with a human variety known as jasmine tea? I find it surprisingly palatable. Alieth: I am not too familiar with it, although my former Commanding Officer used to favour it. ::Her eyes glittered for a brief moment:: Besides, sa-mekh, you are only eighty-seven years of age, you have barely reached the halfway point of your life. As she spoke, she leaned over to a nearby piece of furniture, a version of standard Starfleet furniture that had been modified for the customs and habits of their people. She slid open one of the doors and extracted a pair of boxes from them, solid, black, one crafted from sturdy Sha-kro't ‘s wood. The other of a replicated material that mimicked it decently, without the patina of time and the object's history. After pulling out the synthetic wooden box she hesitated for a moment, the family heirloom in her hands, one that the same man who was before her had given her, the night before she left for Earth for the first time, unannounced, after her failed wedding. Alieth: One more question, what is the reason for your visit, with no announcement? He fixed his daughter with a look that was somewhere between sorrow and surprise without his facial expression changing even a micron. Saros: If I had announced my intentions prior to my arrival here, I believed you would decline the opportunity as you have several times in the past. As I desired to speak with you in person, this approach seemed more logical. She looked at him at last, and, of course, he didn't avert his gaze. Alieth: Oh. In other circumstances, she might not have blurted out such an unremarkable retort. Or she would have remained completely silent, a more logical and measured reaction to the new surprise she had just received. But she was still half asleep. Saros pursed his lips at his daughter's disquieted expression, the concern that he’d been holding for her growing. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and, to ears that knew how to listen, kind. Saros: I was…concerned for you, my daughter. I wished to make certain that you were well among your….new surroundings. You have served on several Starfleet vessels but none with quite the…maturity of this Ronin. He nodded slightly towards their surroundings as Cheesecake shifted in his lap, placing more of its upper body across his legs. He had no idea how humans survived the process of domesticating animals that were so massive. He assumed many of them had been crushed. As they had done so many times in the past, she sat on one side of the low table. On this occasion, under one of the windows in the main room of her quarter, the glittering stars hanging above a shred of golden stardust, a plume from a distant stellar nova that lingered on the station since their previous visit on the previous shoreleave. Despite her familiarity with the station as the Alpha Isles had become the new sector of the space she could call home, she considered the situation quite unusual. The presence of her father and the intimacy of that routine she had engaged with him so many times before seemed new and special in this place. Typically, they would have done so in the main room of his home, the one facing the sunset, or on the simple table in the gardens that Saros meticulously tended. At the end, Alieth setted both black boxes on the table, and lined one up on the right, the other on the left, leaving an even space between them. She opened the one on the left and extracted a small white tablecloth, adorned with circles of text in tiny gold embroidery. She then began to pull out the objects that would help them prepare the beverage. The minutes had stretched in silence between them, until eventually she broke it, eyes still on what she was doing. Alieth: ::hesitantly:: If you deem it appropriate, I can petition the captain to allow you to stay for a while, it should not be complicated... He offered the smallest of nods as the ritual implements were placed precisely on the tabletop. Saros: Unlike your mother, I do not believe I am the master of any household into which I gain entry. As this vessel is now your home, I believe it would be more appropriate for you to determine if I should stay aboard for an extended period. She finished lining up the utensils, the way her father preferred, facing him. She was the hostess, but he was the Master after all. At last, she met his gaze once more, still a certain amount of disquiet in her eyes, but at the same time with the twinkle that always seemed to be about to spark within them. Alieth: I would certainly cherish your presence, Father. While he could never fully admit his feelings to his daughter, Saros knew he couldn’t hide the totality of his relief from his face. Part of him, the part that had spent years failing to moderate the fierce and sprawling debates between his wife and daughter, was certain she would not see him as anything more than a burden. Saros: As I cherish yours, Daughter. I find your flexibility most…agreeable. As I often have in the past. In fact, your very nature is part of what inspired my journey. You have often spoken to your mother, sometimes at both great length and volume, of the intrinsic value of space travel and its ability to broaden one's intellectual horizons. As I have no prior experience with it, I decided to test your hypothesis for myself. Studying the water that simmered quietly on a hot plate in the center of the table couldn't hide the way Alieth's eyebrows puckered, nor the tiny stubborn wrinkle that grew between them. She turned the pot, placing the handle to her left, and inspired to suppress the memories of the debates Saros had alluded to. She opened the lid of the teapot and dropped a small handful of leaves, herbs and fruit rinds into it. There was no need to measure it, she knew the amount as well as she knew the feel of her own fingers. Alieth: And how has the experience gone so far? As the smell of tea marginally displaced the smell of canine, Saros felt himself growing comfortable in these odd, ramshackle surroundings. How like his daughter, he thought, to find an island of peace in a sea of endless chaos. Saros: While my experimentation has been quite limited when compared with yours, I must admit I have found the experience…enriching. Although I do not think all Vulcans would be capable of appreciating it in quite the same way. Much like that jasmine tea. It is quite different from what is considered typical for our people, but there are some few that can learn to appreciate that very difference. Much as you have, daughter. She let out a soft huff, not a snort, but what could have been the starting point of one. Alieth: Have you explained this to Mother, sa-mekh? She bit the inside of her lower lip before she continued speaking, her voice studiously neutral, her tone painstakingly flat, holding in the sarcasm and resentment that bubbled in her chest as vigorously as the teapot in the center of the table was doing. Saros: Your relationship with your mother is not why I am here, Daughter. Nor do I come as part of her agenda. In point of fact she objected most…comprehensively to this journey. Alieth: That she had not tied you to the dining room table to prevent your departure is the most unusual circumstance of your visit. There was a note of humour in that statement, one as dry as the sands of their home planet. He quirked an eyebrow once more. If a passing member of the ships science team had a micrometer on hand they may have been able to detect the faintest upwards curling of his lips. Saros: I believe she was searching for suitable restraints when I made my departure. Fortunately for me, it is a rather large home and items have been known, from time to time, to become mislaid. I am certain she was quite perturbed. Alieth: All right sa-mekh, there are some things I prefer not to know. The younger Vulcan lifted a hand briefly in front of her, in a gesture of appeasement. There were few issues that could make them fall into a debate loop they couldn't get out of, few points that Alieth was willing to concede, and many that Saros couldn't figure out and most of them revolted around N'Keth. Saros: So tell me, Daughter, now that I have travelled to this periphery area of the Federation, will you be spending much time here or moving on to yet another destination? She tilted her head and looked out the window, as if somehow her short-sighted eyes could pierce the blackness of space and look out at the distant system they would be departing for in the next few hours. Alieth: Ferenginar, in fact. ::A lock of hair escaped from behind her pointed ear as she tilted it in the opposite direction:: I expect you will find the place far more instructive. Saros let out the smallest hint of an amused breath. Seeing his daughter again was making him far more emotional than he had expected. Saros: Instructive indeed, as I have never actually met a Ferengi, although I am given to understand Federation opinions of their capitalistic culture are…varied. This should prove to be a most enlightening experience. Do the Ferengi enjoy tea? Perhaps I could introduce them to the proper way to prepare it, as you have so elegantly demonstrated. Saros had spent the better part of his adult life mastering the subtle art of tea preparation and the rituals that went along with it. It filled him with a strange sense of…completeness to see his daughter accomplishing what it had taken him decades to learn with such poise and confidence. There was a rustling of clothes, of shoulders that rose just a few millimeters beneath the smooth fabric. Alieth: It is logical to assume that they may value it if they consider it monetizable. Seizing the moment, she removed the teapot from the fire, and set it on a small circle of braided grass to her left, to rest. The heat of the metal on the fibres let out a slightly fresh, deep, slightly tangy scent of the dried Zhar-kur leaves from which it had been made. The grass was such a Chi-ree plant, so ubiquitous, so ordinary, that somehow it always smelled like home. As the aroma of the tea mingled with the heady bouquet of the Xial grass, Saros found himself transported within his mind to simpler days, long before his headstrong young daughter had chosen Starfleet as a way of life. Instead, she had filled the chambers of their home and the spaces within his heart with a vitality that he’d since found uncomfortably absent. All at once he knew that wherever else this journey took him at the moment, he was very much in precisely the right place. Saros: As I have never attempted to monetize any practice, I should find their efforts to do so instructive, if nothing else. Have you visited this planet in your travels? Perhaps you could tell me about it. Alieth: It has several areas of interest. They maintain written history of regions of space that the Federation has never explored, there are buildings for uses that are so alien to Vulcan customs that they cannot be comprehended using logic, the economic system is still in buoyant use which conditions behaviours and social practices worthy of examination. There are also, of course, the races. Saros’s lips twisted slightly, and his look towards his daughter was one universally worn by fathers across the quadrant, something she retorted with the most innocent expression she could compose without moving a muscle in her face. Saros: Why am I not surprised to discover that you have made yourself aware of the local competitive piloting opportunities. Am I to understand that you have continued your….less than fully legal racing pursuits? Alieth: Not for the last four hundred and twenty-six days. As you may understand, I need to hone my skills, to prevent risks. He felt the deeply worn grooves of a discussion that the two of them had rehashed without resolution for many years. He had nearly responded with concern, as was his right and responsibility as a father, but a thought struck him and his lips pursed. For a moment Saros did not see his daughter sitting before him, did not see the precocious child who had pressed against the barriers of her life from her earliest days, but instead a woman…a scientist and an officer who had experienced more of the galaxy than he could ever hope to. It was a sobering realization but, upon reflection, he found it was a welcome one. He inclined his head towards her as the tea cooled enough to serve. Saros: I have never entirely understood, Daughter, but you do not require my understanding to accept my support. And you have it. She bowed her head, with respect, with mild surprise and genuine astonishment. She valued Saros not only for being her father, but for the infinite patience and wisdom in him. That he would accept one of her more illogical inclinations, the one that had bonded her so closely to Sern was... important. It stitched a wound that had been open for far too long. She did not say thanks, though she felt grateful, since it was illogical to be grateful for something freely offered, but she did at least try to mitigate some of the worries that had always arisen in their discussions. Alieth: Just one more, for osu3 Sern She paused. It had been months since she had said his name out loud. Maybe more than a year. But somehow, hidden, the emptiness of his absence was still there, less obvious, but present. She shook her head and lifted the lid to look at the colour of the infusion. A bad habit she had never been able to shake. Alieth: I will provide a pseudonym, it ought not to be troublesome. Perhaps you would like to observe it, might provide a new field of study in your explorations of worlds beyond Chi-ree. She refrained from suggesting that he take part, for the Ferenginar race was cut-throat, and the cheating commonplace, but perhaps in another place, with another competition, she would propose it. What would her mother say if it came to that? In her mind, she smiled as wide as the Cheshire cat, but managed to restrain the expression so that it only curved a tiny corner of her mouth. Years of arduous study and mental discipline barely held back a serious elevation of his heart rate but some strange mix of the tea’s soothing aroma, the vast bulk of the canine on his lap and his daughters mirth filled eyes gave him pause to consider it. Saros: I find that prospect….most agreeable, my daughter. Perhaps…perhaps I will even sample the local tea…though I am confident it cannot compare to what you have prepared. She shook her head slightly, a tiny smile concealed by dark strands of hair, then cupped the teapot in her hands, shielding herself with the sleeves of her robe to prevent burns, and poured two cups. First, hers, as the tea would be milder, less intense. Then, Saros's, the middle cup, the ideal one, the one with perfectly balanced flavours. Out the window, the stars seemed to draw slightly closer, then stretch out, blurring into white lines that veered to red and blue. The journey to their new destination had begun, with even more enticements than it had had to begin with. And with one of the people who held the most space in Alieth's heart, along with her. A more illogical person would claim that, on this day, luck was with her. [[End Of Scene]] OOC: 1ko-fu → Vuhlkansu, daughter 2 sa-mekh → Vuhlkansu, father 3 osu → Vuhlkansu, sir, used as a form of polite address for a man; used as an honorific before the given name 4Pid-trensu → Vuhlkansu, Tea High Master ================================= Lieutenant Commander Alieth Chief Science Officer & 2O USS Ronin USS-34523 E239702A10 & Saros of Vulcan Pid-trensu4 & Traveler V239509GT0 5 2
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