SD201901.28 - Captain's Table, Part Two: For Starters. [Felix/Regina/Lester/Edie/Harun/Tonx/Burgundy/Perdita]

-= Felix’s Quarters, USS Lone Star =-

The captain looked at the assembled company, now seated and engaging with their starter: a selection of charcuterie from across the quadrant with freshly-baked breads, home-made chutneys and a paired Bajoran ice wine. While Monkfish chewed his ear off about alternative theories regarding the demise of the Lone Star-A, he glanced down the table and winked at Edie who, as the next most senior officer, sat opposite him at the long end. That would’ve been Tonx’s seat if she hadn’t screwed up to the extent of demotion.

Burgundy noticed that the avatar of his department head wasn't eating at all. The hologram emitters in the ship could handle replication and de-materialisation the same way the emitters in old holodecks could; if Perdita would eat anything it would cease to be normal matter and turn into photons, just as most of the avatar was only photons until it was about to interact physically with its surroundings. The technology was quite frankly a marvel, but so old and tested by now that nobody thought about it. As for why the science chief wasn't eating? Probably because they didn't understand the point of it, thought Burgundy.

As the commotion settled down the synthetic voice of the science chief was heard over the crowd. "Have I told you how truly sorry I am about the Lone Star-O, Captain?" it said, flat but loud enough to carry through the room. The avatar was seated a few feet from the wall where Felix had placed all the models of earlier Lone Star incarnations. They were transfixed; their non-blinking gaze falling upon the Akira class model whose real counterpart was lost in 2400, almost to the day 19 years earlier. "It still haunts me." Despite the unnatural character of their voice a deep sense of loss and regret came through.

Trust Perdita to come up with a tale of doom, Felix thought, well aware the gelatinous being was liable to be able to read his inner mind. That said – or, rather, thought – it was unusual to find Animo in reflective mode. “Her end was ignominious, even for a Lone Star.”

“Before Thalev,” Regina uttered to Harun at her side. “A most unscrupulous man. A psychologist. A lieutenant. And, I believe, a hairdresser.” She whipped an antibacterial cloth from about her person and wiped fastidiously around her place setting. “I forget the tale of the O, Commander.”

Animo was quiet long enough for everyone to start wondering if they were going to divulge the story or not. "The Lone Star was fleeing a battle when their sensors picked up an irregular singularity that was about to form. In an attempt to shake their pursuers they decided to slingshot around it, and tried to fire quantum torpedoes just around the event horizon hoping that the enemy sensors wouldn't see them coming. The singularity interacted with the forces at play near it, warped out of shape and exploded in 87 dimensions."

The lieutenant commander turned to eye everyone around the table, unblinking and slowly. There was more to the story, of course. Everyone recognised that an event like that would leave no survivors, yet the scientist wasn't in the habit of peddling stories as fact. So how did they know?

Regina was about to speak up – maybe to ask just that , or maybe to hit on Harun – but was interrupted as Perdita Animo continued.

"I was the reason for that singularity. It was a ceremony among my peers, in which I was supposed to transcend to higher planes. There was no way for me to know that an event in the minor four dimensions would so interfere; they are usually as invisible to us as bacteria are to you." For the first time since the food was served the hologram paid it some attention, poking and prodding it absentmindedly with a fork. "As it so happened I did not ascend. Instead I was transposed into a most rudimentary existence. Barely a fragment of what was once me remains; my physical shape in this plane was hastily thrown together from organic debris around my point of entry, as I quickly lost functions my consciousness has always taken for granted."

Felix nodded silently. He had promised Animo long before that he would not divulge their origin story without their permission.

A moment passed as that sunk in, but then Burgundy couldn't hold his curiosity. "Wait a minute," he said, "Are you saying you're composed of the bodily remains of former Lone Star crew?"

The avatar turned to face him, expressionless as always. "Only the useful grey matter," they said, "But mostly neural gel packs, to be honest. You humanoids have precious little brains." They turned to face the captain. "I believe the incorporation of humanoid memories in my being is the reason I have such a keen understanding of the humanoid condition," they said flatly, before putting their fork down and resuming to look placidly at the room decorations.

Before Felix could respond with an observation about the calibre of that understanding – its lack of respect for interpersonal boundaries, say – Regina had intervened on his behalf. “Do you remember each of the crew’s memories up until the point of the accident?” The CoB was suspicious, as ever, of foul play. Felix shot her a look imploring sensitivity. “I assume you do not hold yourself responsible,” she added hurriedly, primping a lateral clump of her hair back into position.

Perdita didn't bother to face Ms Monkfish as they replied. "Only bits and fragments. As neurons were rearranged in my formation most was lost. Some is clear as day, still. Like the fact that Captain Yanu was planning her wedding while cheating with her yeoman on a regular basis." The gelatinous being considered this a fact as easily shared as, say, someone's favourite colour. They looked at the different Lone Star models again. "And no," they added, "I am not responsible. But it is a loss nonetheless, and one in which I played a part."

Burgundy thought about splattered brains assembling into a gelatinous thing as the looked at his food. Jelly-like. A little like the chutneys. He put his cutlery down with a grimace of disgust, deciding that he'd lost appetite for the time being.

If Harun was bothered by the fact the science officer was made of the pulverized remains of the crew of the Lone Star in one of its former incarnations he gave no outward sign of it. He merely cast a sideways look to to watch Burgundy squirm, an activity the Cardassian was finding very enjoyable. When the Ensign inevitably looked over Harun very carefully popped a bit of food into his own mouth and chewed with an expression of Cardassian intestinal superiority. The ensign tried to hide his abdominal reaction at the sight, but couldn’t quite suppress a shudder.

Edie eyed the holographic avatar of Perdita and absorbed the tale of the Lone Star-O. Unbecoming of her own self, she remained quiet and reflective as she played with the food on her plate. There was one particular and most-disturbing thought that kept creeping its way forward into the forefront of her mind:

What does Perdita taste like?

Indeed. The disturbing thought was one even Edith Freelove knew was best kept to herself; unexpectedly even the flighty and most-forward CEO of the Lone Star-S was capable of some proper etiquette at the dinner table.

At that moment Animo looked at Edie, fixated for quite some time, before again resuming their survey of the room.

-= [to be continued] =-