-= Felix’s Quarters, USS Lone Star =-
The captain’s table: never had it looked so full, so lush. Rarely had it
happened when the Lone Star had been in port. And historically, it
never ended without some sort of incident.
For a flashpoint, photograph’s breadth of a moment, the captain stood
alone at the head of what was, putatively, his table. Not the tallest,
no longer the youngest and by no means the smartest, Felix de l’Isle
nevertheless made a poster-boy captain. Wearing a thin-lapelled marine
jacket over a plain white shirt, the thumb of his right hand hooked into
the pocket of air-force blue flannels. Behind him the arboretum began
its convenient simulation of the start of evening. The windows had been
removed temporarily, allowing the appeal of autumnal freshness into his
apartment. A heron passed at window level.
“Ah, Heracles.” Regina Monkfish sidled along the length of the table.
Despite her idiosyncrasies – they were many – Felix had softened to her
batshit madness over the last decade. Even the puce toilet seat she
appeared now to be wearing as a hat. “Always did like to fly high.” She
sniffed the air. “I –”
“It’s clean enough, Chief.” Felix’s look read like a brief warning. I
know you’re doing you, but don’t do that. Anyone who’d served with him
knew it was a one-time peace offering. Wafting over one of the catering
team, he drew two flutes from their plate and forced one into Regina’s
hand. “This is off-duty time and this time, I haven’t cooked. As you
know, it was a fire in the captain’s private galley that caused the
destruction of the Lone Star. Cheers.”
None of them noticed how the server averted his face when they turned his way.
Their crystal clinked. Over his glass, Felix watched Regina watch an
influx of ensigns feed burning wood coals to the Pakled elephant, which
considered these a treat. But the concentration on her face was not
dedicated, as it might normally be, for a list of contraventions for the
newcomers.
“Forgive me, Captain, but the Lone Star-A was pulverised by a Klingon
battalion after catastrophic computer failure.” The elephant squawked,
below. “The survivors were coursed through the sector. Litres of blood
and gore, I imagine.” Monkfish shook her head. “Blood is so hard to get
out of the upholstery. And the gristle makes its way into unusual
places.”
“That is conjecture, Chief. And even so, does not preclude an ill-fated
captain inadvertently flambéing his senior staff.” The door chimed.
“Come!”
The door opened to reveal an androgynous, slender being in a teal suit.
Their hair was white, cut at jaw length, and skin was olive, but there
was something rather off with the creature. They strode in slowly, with a
stiff step, and looked around vacantly. "I am not certain this
holographic avatar suits my personality, Captain," they said in an
obviously synthesized voice, "Lieutenant Karien suggested that it might
be suitable to project myself in a more humanoid manner for social
occasions." The hologram turned to Felix. Disturbingly, they never
blinked. "It is I, Lieutenant Commander Animo."
“Who else,” said Felix, with a joviality he had learned to project, over
the years. It often made others think him vapid, or simple, which
served frequently to his advantage. His lead scientist had made that
mistake once. He revisited the memory briefly. “Welcome to my quarters.”
Legitimately, this time.
The hologram didn't appear to react to the captain's reply at all.
Instead they just said in their usual, toneless, voice: "I can not hear
your thoughts from this far away, Captain."
They turned to the nearby server. "Ensign Burgundy. I am glad that you
accepted the honour of representing our department at this traditional
affair." Their expression as toneless as their voice, yet somehow the
sarcasm was not lost on anyone present; while it was true that the
catering staff comprised members from all departments, all the others
were NCOs on their first tour.
Burgundy flushed and sneered. I hate you, he thought, as loudly as he could.
"I know you do," said Animo, despite just having proclaimed an inability to read minds this far from their physical being.
The door chimed again but this time it was a tall Cardassian bearing a
bottle of kanar that entered the room. He was dressed casually in a
tunic of Sacramento green embellished with embroidery of lighter green
and black along the sleeve, paired with black trousers. The outfit had
been a gift from his mother and sisters who reminded him that not every
social occasion called for military dress and wouldn't it be nice if he
wore something that brought out his eyes.
Harun wasn't entirely certain the reason behind the gathering of the
senior staff to the Captain's Galley but he assumed it was the Captain's
attempt to get the senior staff to bond. Humans, Harun thought as he
crossed the threshold, as if mandatory ‘fun’ made anyone closer. Harun
resolved to suffer through forced social pleasantries in this ice box of
a room until he could feasibly leave. He spotted Felix and the tall
humanoid and was just starting to walk towards them when his eye caught
another familiar face.
He stopped, his eyes fixing on Burgundy as his eyebrow ridge lifted in
an unspoken question though it didn't take long for the young Cardassian
to figure out that he had been lied to. Now why would the gullible
little Ensign lie about his assignment? Given the way Burgundy was
staring daggers at the tall humanoid Harun had a few guesses. The
Cardassian changed his mind; this evening might actually be worth his
attendance after all.
Somewhat unwittingly the captain found himself caught in a trilateral
exchange of glares that was not, altogether, friendly. “Mr Touvoy. And
with a gift, no less.” He extended his hand to claim the bottle, which,
when forthcoming, he studied. Was kanar a digestif? He assumed so. “From
Cunat province. I hear the jevonite in the soil there gives the kanar a
particular kick.” He’d do his damndest to be welcoming, despite the
Cardassian’s interpersonal lack of flexibility during their first
meeting.
The science ensign was still locking eyes with the Cardassian. His
emotions were in turmoil; most of all he was angry and embarrassed, but
for a multitude of reasons and in several competing ways. He had been
made a ridicule of, and in trying to be less of a failure he had now
instead been revealed to be even more of one.
And on top of that the Cardassian looked at the ensign with disdain and
accusation, as if Burgundy's dismay had somehow affected him. The
Prepondrian stared at him, feeling his anger and resentment rise. He
wanted to yell 'Grow up!' at the man, but had to settle for eventually
averting his eyes. Thankfully he had catering duties to attend to, which
provided him with a perfect excuse. He tried not to sneer yet again as
he turned away and filled up more glasses of champagne on a tray.
"Good eye Captain," the Cardassian said evenly as his eyes slid from
Burgundy to the Captain, giving no hint to if he was pleased Felix
recognized the province the kanar came from or was simply being polite.
As he spoke, Harun could feel the daggers being burned into the side of
his face by the young Ensign but in the Cardassian's mind it was
Burgundy's own fault his deception was discovered. If one was going to
lie best be good at it and cover one’s tracks or not bother.
Tonx had been looking forward to the evening since Felix told her about
it. Given she was restricted to the Lone Star while they were in port,
she wasn't going to miss the chance to socialize. Did she miss her
chance to go out on the prowl? Absolutely, but Felix promised a hell of a
feast and an open bar. Who could pass that up? She tugged on the bottom
of her deep blue double-breasted tunic and flicked off a speck of flint
away from one of the silver buttons. She bypassed the dress uniform for
the deep blue pant-suit with its banded collar. She had considered
wearing her utilikilt and her knee high boots, but thought that was more
appropriate for a night on the prowl and not a night at the Captain's
table.
Running a hand through her hair, the CSec rang the chime and entered the
Captain's quarters. She couldn't help the smirk as she entered, seeing
how Felix had it decorated and things laid out. There were those there
she hadn't yet met, though she'd read their personnel records. She
figured she’d get a better feel for the new crew members as the evening
went on. Someone handed her a flute, which she gladly accepted,
"Evening, Captain, Chief, Commander, and Ensign." She looked to Felix,
"I like what you've done with the place.”
Thank the heavens for Tonx: albeit not without her moments, she passed
for normal in their present company. “Tonx. Time for you to meet the
latest addition to the Lone Star family.” She’d be able to read the clue
of relief in Felix’s smile as he turned to their surly ingenu.
“Lieutenant McKenna, meet Glinn Touvoy, our new conn officer.”
The Chief Security Officer arched a brow ever so slightly at the Captain
and flashed a small smirk his way before looking to the Lieutenant. She
didn't look him up and down, but she didn't have to as she'd already
studied him when she first arrived. Tonx offered a warm smile, "Welcome
to the Lone Star, Lieutenant."
Harun's attention had shifted to the human woman he was being introduced
to and he inclined his head in a polite nod, "Thank you Lieutenant
McKenna." He supposed he could have said more but his eyes were
irrevocably drawn to the woman that everyone referred to as 'Edie' and
immediately his lips compressed into a thin, puzzled expression as his
brow ridges drew down to the bridge of his nose. He was both horrified,
and fascinated.
Edie seemed to almost bounce off the deck plating as she strode to her
own beat down the lengthy corridor of the Lone Star. She was humming
some incomprehensible tune to herself in time with the clicking of her
lime green suede cuban heels. She simply adored social occasions of any
sort and given the fact it was the Captain that was hosting such a
thing, it seemed even more thrilling.
She had worked tirelessly on her outfit for the evening and was
tremendously happy with it. It was reminiscent of a tacky prom dress
from old Earth. From the chest down to the waist, it was tight fitting,
decorated with what seemed to be the neck of a creature. From the waist
to her mid-tibial area was a vast array of feathers which ranged in
various hues of greens, blues and purples. One might have to guess which
animal she was attempting to channel, until focusing in on her large
fascinator. There was no mistaking the shape and definition – it was the
head of a bird, a peacock to be precise. Of course, to top things off,
she had also donned some oversized and mismatched jewelry and an
obscenely large peacock purse.
Edie smiled even wider to herself as she reached the entrance of Felix’s
quarters. As she stepped through, she took in the various faces of the
guests. Some were very familiar, others not so much. “Hello lovelies.”
She announced herself rather loudly and then continued to stride over to
where Felix was standing.
The voluminous auburn coils atop Regina’s head shivered with joy. It was
not often, and not recently, that she had been called a Lovely.
Although usually disposed to like the engineer, Regina found herself
gazing at her headgear.
“I do hope that is a simulated Javan peafowl,” she hissed to her
neighbour, who happened to be the chief science officer. “Taxidermic
headdress is simply unsuitable when the captain’s privilege is being
extended.”
The chief science officer's holographic representation turned to Regina
and looked at her, utterly expressionless as always. A long moment
passed, in which it was impossible to tell whether Perdita was going to
say anything or not. Just as Ms Monkfish was about to open her mouth to
clarify her statement the hologram spoke: "It is synthetic," they said
simply. "I checked the replicator logs."
“Captain. I do apologise in advance. I spent so much time on this dress
that I forgot to bring you a proper hosting gift.” Edie reached into her
obscenely large purse and dug around some before pulling out an antique
candle holder. “Here. For you.” She passed it to him with haste.
The smile the captain wore was more related to his veteran CEO’s avian
attire than her latest offering. As sure as Tonx would seduce anything
with a heartbeat and any newcomer would leave the science lab frayed and
insulted, so would his fragrant spanner-monkey produce gifts that were
batshit illogical.
“Edie,” Felix beamed. “You shouldn’t have.”
Tonx turned her attention to Edie and the Captain. Her eye was drawn to
the antique candle holder, she gave a soft laugh and shook her head.
Edie was being Edie to the 'Nth' degree, "Perhaps she shouldn't have,
Captain, but it will look perfect with the rest of the decor tonight."
She smirked.
Behind and to the side of the captain a sigh was heard from the most
senior of the hospitality staff, who accompanied the sound with a roll
of his eyes.
Harun stared at the object Edie had given the Captain and was uncertain
of how to react. Was this a gift or a curse? Everyone was smiling but
their words suggested they wished Edie had not presented the Captain
with the gift. The puzzled expression now became a frown as he heard the
sigh and his eyes snapped back to Burgundy. He decided to drown his
confusion in alcohol and another being's discomfort, he reached for a
flute of champagne. "Tell me Ensign, when did you leave the Lantern?
Don't tell me it was on my account."
Burgundy snorted and put the now empty tray down on a table beside him.
He placed a few glasses on it and started filling them, half turned away
from Harun. "It doesn't really matter, does it?" he asked rhetorically.
After filling three glasses he decided to give up for the moment; the
rest of that bottle was his, damned be the horrid taste. "We're all in
the same boat, Cardy," he said quietly, leaning in to address only his
new foe. A swig from the champagne later he continued: "For one shit
reason or another." It occurred to him that he didn't know the man's
name. Mostly because he didn't care enough to listen when the pilot had
been introduced.
There was a brief expression of surprise on Harun's face as Burgundy
used the slur and when no one appeared to notice or care the Cardassian
took that knowledge and filed it away in the organized system of his
brain. He smiled at the pudgy Ensign but there wasn't the slightest bit
of pleasantness in the expression, it was the smile a predator gave to
prey right before they bit off the unfortunate creatures face. He raised
his glass slightly in a mock salute, "Noted."
Burgundy shrugged, took another swig and started turning to walk away.
It was clear that he didn't want to talk about it. His manner was a
threat and a promise at once: ‘don't go there’ and ‘if you don't pry in
my pile of shit I won't pry in yours’.
His attempted escape was inevitably interrupted.
“Mister Burgundy,” the captain called, pacing to the middle of the
table. “When you’ve made sure everybody’s glass is refreshed, replicate
some candles for this – delight. And at the end of the night you can pop
it on that stand, over there.” He gestured to a recessed shelf, replete
with mad and weird objects: a library of Commander Freelove’s
generosity over the last seven years.
"Oh for f... Absolutely, Captain," he managed to correct his muttering
just in time, and the affirmative answer was louder – emphasized by a
very theatrical smile as he accepted the piece. "Shall I put it next to
the horrid backpack that says 'Hello Kitty', or is this more of a
'goodbye b-, uh, dog' kinda piece?" he asked in an overly friendly
manner.
“The backpack is a charming 21st-century antique which is much sought
after at auction,” Monkfish chirruped. “And pink pleather is underrated
as a material.”
Edie did not let her face crack at the Ensign's comments. She was not
the most socially adept person, especially when it came to registering
the smaller nuances and sarcasms that some individuals insisted on using
in conversation. There was something in particular about the comment
though, that rubbed her the wrong way. "Dear. It's best to not overthink
such things. Particularly when there is so much to do. Wouldn't you
agree?" She asked this in a most rhetorical manner.
“So much to do,” Regina agreed, sliding in beside the engineer. “I
rather covet it.” She, Edie and their headgear were unusually startling.
The science officer raised an eyebrow at the pair of odd women. He
popped the candle holder on the table next to the backpack
unceremoniously. “Looks great,” he proclaimed unconvincingly. With the
champagne bottle still in one hand he waltzed over to the replicator and
produced a few candles. Ugly pink ones.
Felix grinned. One, or other, or all of the senior staff was likely to
grill and skewer Burgundy this evening. Those who came to the Lone Star
lofty often found themselves disbarred before long. That was a part of
the ship’s charm: the interlocked friendships, rivalries and antagonism
that made her exceptional were more honest than other ships, which made
them more humanising, more healing. He manoeuvered his way to the head
of the table and, as many times before, glanced a silver teaspoon
against the side of his glass.
As his senior crew assembled, Felix eyed the spaces that remained at the
table. Although an XO had been assigned, they had not yet made their
way to Kincardine. Time was ticking as to whether she would even make it
on board before the next mission. He was about to deliver his toast
when the ship-board comm system interrupted.
"Lieutenant Vaughn to Captain de l'Isle."
Felix slapped his chest. “Yes, Doctor.”
There was a long-suffering sigh on the other end. "I'm afraid I won't be
able to make it to the meal tonight. There's been..." Another audible
sigh. "...an incident. Do you recall the report that Chief Whittems
threatened to put his boot up Ensign Carter's, and I quote,
flower-sprouting backside?"
Stifling a chuckle, Felix replied in the affirmative. His senior crew,
and most of the waiting staff, appeared to have heard the same tale.
"Well… he did it."
“Literally? He –” Blessed with an unfortunately graphic imagination, Felix stuttered. “He did?”
"Yes, he did. So now I've got to remove it. He did one hell of a job." A
pause. "Although I have to admit that I'm a bit impressed by it too –” A
muffled voice from the other side. "Oh, he's prepped. I need to go.
Vaughn out."
“Chief Whittems has notoriously large feet,” Regina whispered to Harun Touvoy. None of her husbands had, yet, been Cardassian.
Before a hubbub arose again, Felix cleared his throat.
“Senior officers and bridge crew of the USS Lone Star. To some of you,
welcome home.” He beamed to Monkfish, Freelove, the avatar of Animo, and
Tonx. “To others, welcome to your new home.”
It was a speech he had given before. The first set of officers he’d
addressed glanced between themselves with a knowing smile, except for
Perdita.
“Ensign Burgundy,” he said unexpectedly. “You are relieved of your serving duties. Will you take Doctor Vaughn’s seat, please.”
Surprised and slightly shocked, Burgundy could only mutter a “yes, sir,” and sit down before the captain changed his mind.
“Every person has their tale, and every ship its song. See.” de l’Isle
gestured to the display case containing the ships of the line,
temporarily seconded from his ready room. “For all the Lone Stars whose
songs are lost, it falls to us to write them anew: to tell our tale by
her tiller, and to set straight the record about their good name, and
ours.
“They are linked, those two destinies, unchangeably so. And so, unchanging, we say again...”
The five old-serving officers repeated the ship’s slogan in unison.
“Only those who risk going too far can possibly find out how far they can go.”
“May we go far together,” Felix concluded, holding his glass aloft.
“Cheers.” The word repeated as a cheerful murmur. “Please take your
seats. And, Chief, if you wouldn’t mind –”
Monkfish moved, briefly, to shoo away an uninvited heron.
-= [to be continued] =-