JP: Cmd Alora DeVeau + Ensign Ross: Constellations (Part I)
Amanda Nordstrom
OOC: This takes place before the Invitational.
IC:
((Infinite Starlight, Starbase 118 Ops))
The dance hall had been set aside for use by the most recent crop of graduating cadets and all those who wished to celebrate with them. Generally, this included professors, trainers, and even proctors who had overseen the final practical examinations. Alora was one of those proctors, and though she was due to head back to Denali the very next day, she couldn’t resist attending the party at her own haunting grounds.
Those who worked at Infinite Starlight were very familiar with her. She’d been a weekly presence, save for the last few before her transfer. During those moments ,though she had sought out ways to distract her from the sorrow that clung to her heart, she hadn’t made it down to dance. Now, she was back, and the wave emotions that had greeted her upon her initial return were more muted. Stepping into the establishment, the entire middle of the main room was set aside for dancing. The floor was smooth, easily to move over, and splattered with hints of starlight. That was because above them, the roof positively glimmered with a scattering of a million stars. They weren’t real, but they looked real, silver gems that flashed brilliantly against ebony, and gave their name to the establishment. Around the floor on three sides, separated by a partition, were a myriad of tables, many of which were already occupied by party goers. Waiters and waitresses sidestepped and dodged the various bodies, offering a variety of foods and drinks to those who had come. The fourth side, at the head of the floor, was reserved for live music and for any announcers when needed. Tonight was already in full swing, and a decent number of attendees were already grooving to the music. Some danced and swayed in ballroom style, while others preferred more modern elements. It didn’t matter. It was time to have fun.
Everyone was dressed to the nines. Although it was a graduation party, no one arrived in uniform, and certainly not Alora. She had replicated a dress since most of her clothing was back at Denali. Decked in Emerald green, the hue matched her eyes. A single, wide strap of black ran over her shoulder, the dark hue spreading onto the bodice of her dress. As it dropped down, however, colour suddenly appeared at the waist, marbled hues of blue, purple, and green mingling with deeper pink and golden yellow. They streaked down the skirt, the black becoming thinner, while the other hues became far more prominent. By the time they hit the hem, no black was in sight, and the colours alternated one from another and almost glowed in the dim light. Black, low heels offered another inch of height, but were comfortable to wear and, yes, even dance in if she had the opportunity. Others were dressed, some in bright shades, others more muted, but all seemed to be having a good time. Then, one face among the crowd stood out, and as Alora approached, she offered the man a small smile.
DeVeau: We meet again.
Ross: ::straightening:: Commander DeVeau!
Shaking her head, Alora waved dismissively. Around them, the music swelled, rose and fell, crescendo and decrescendo, and the conversation went along with the tide. She glanced from one person to the other, and supposed some might have felt the same. Had she when she graduated?
DeVeau: No. No formality. Just call me Alora.
Ross: ::easing up a little:: Fine. It’s Evan, then.
DeVeau: Now that you’ve officially graduated, how do you feel? It was a common question, she supposed, but it opened the door for conversation. It was a night of conversation, and of celebration. A chance to enjoy themselves before the stark reality of life as an officer officially hit them. It was exciting, and she was certain for some, it was a little scary.
Ross: Hard to say, really.
Did he enjoy this evening? Ross couldn’t really tell yet - the laughter, the loose banter, all those kids whose expectations for the future glimmered brightly within their eyes. He enjoyed sticking around for a few hours, being infected by their strong belief in immortality, passing around paternal pats on backs and shoulders. But at some point, the music became too loud, the clinking of glasses echoed like thunder through his skull and all the colorful robes that used to please his eyes flashed painfully under his gaze, making him tired. He didn’t want to return to his room yet, being painfully aware of the silent dark awaiting him - but he also didn’t feel like drinking anymore. The few glasses he had had spun softly behind his forehead, tinting everything around him into a nice sepia.
Ross: Still seems a little surreal.
DeVeau: It will continue to do so until you are in the thick of it. And even then, at times, it will still feel surreal.
Even now, years later, she had that same sense, like all around her wasn’t reality, but she couldn’t tell what reality was. Then it would come crashing down so suddenly, that it couldn't be anything but real. At times, it was beautiful, the glories of the universe at her fingertips, the wonders she had been able to witness. At other times, it was almost soul breaking. Losing Kalin. Finding him, only to lose him again. Yet, she remained there, somehow the shattered pieces of her universe coming back together. There were cracks, the scars of life that she bore, but her reflection peered back between the rivulets of sorrow, unwilling to give up, and the moments of joy helped to solidify her reasons for remaining in Starfleet.
He didn’t know why he was so happy to see her. Alora’s face had stuck with him, recurring in two or three dreams over the last weeks - messy, chaotic scenes on a strange bridge, but her presence always at the center, the calm in the eye of a storm. He remembered her differently, though - in a starfleet uniform, hair braided back. Stern. The beautiful dress painted her more delicate, and he just now wondered how old she actually was - in any case, his plain dark Button Up didn’t match the radiance of her outfit at all.
Ross: It’s nice to see you…- ::visibly struggling how to address her properly:: …Alora. I wasn’t aware you were still on the base. ::gaze lingers on the crowd for a second:: We have no idea what we’re getting ourselves into, huh?
DeVeau: No. Not really.
She hadn’t, not really. Oh sure, they did their best to prepare them in the Academy, but it couldn’t compare to what was out there in the Galaxy, simply because there was no way of knowing everything, of preparing for everything. They did the best they could and gave them all the tools they would need to survive, and yes, even thrive. It was hard sometimes, though. Alora knew that first hand.
DeVeau: I assume you received your assignment?
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
Ross: They assigned me to the base, actually. I’m gonna stay here. oO it’s weird to say it out loud, makes it feel real Oo Even though it was actually nice to be on the bridge, back there in the sim. It’s a nice view.
DeVeau: It is.
Inhaling deeply, Alora let it out slowly while her eyes drifted about, as if she were looking not there, not at the ballroom and the people gathered, the floor littered with bodies moving in motion to the music, but at what lay beyond those walls.
DeVeau: I was assigned here until recently. I was even First Officer.
Ross: Oh?
DeVeau: Starfleet wanted me elsewhere, felt I was needed elsewhere. I’m at Denali now, which is exciting in its own right. Second officer, and Mission specialist. I can only guess it’s because I’m a scientist, but also have a lot of experience with various missions and various…experiences.
Starfleet ordered and she followed. Alora knew she could appeal, but what good would it do? Perhaps if she hadn’t known the man who would take her place as First Officer, she might have fought to remain, but Ops was in good hands with their new XO. Besides, it was a great opportunity for him.
He could only imagine what those ‘experiences’ included. Ross tried to make sense of DeVeau’s absent-minded gaze, but it was hard to guess what she was really thinking. Maybe you had to be kind of a closed book to get this far - to look back on a career like hers.
Ross: Any tips for 118 then?
DeVeau: I’m sure I could tell you stories, but you’ll have some of your own soon enough. They can go along with your Academy stories.
Alora didn’t have as many of those, mainly because she kept so busy. With a double major plus her hobbies and other interests, Alora’s experience had been pretty mild in comparison to some.
Ross: ::slight chuckle:: Oh, it wasn’t exactly High School. At least not for me.
He threw a glance at his fellow cadets, most of them half his age, laughing hysterically at one another, half-drunk half-euphoric. He wouldn’t deny it - it hadn’t been easy to get along with them for three years. Not because he didn’t like them. Maybe it was more of an issue with sharing a room, being constantly surrounded by their playful banter, youthful thoughtlessness. They tired him, even if they didn’t mean to and he didn’t want them to. It wasn’t a matter of choice.
DeVeau: Have you had a chance to visit any of the other areas of Ops yet?
Ross: ::being ripped from his thoughts, glancing up:: No, not really. Except for the ones we visited in the Academy program, I mean. From what I’m getting, most of the crew is out on a mission right now. I’m not sure if I will be sent out to join them. We’ll see.
He didn’t mind waiting, actually - to enjoy the silence in his new private quarter, away from the crowds on the base. Which brought him back to DeVeau’s new position -
Ross: Do you miss 118? I hope you don’t mind that question. The Denali is further out, right? Further… away from everything. I think I would like it.
What he heard about the Denali reminded him of the outposts he used to work on.
Boy, that was a loaded question. Alora sighed softly, her smile turning almost rueful. Perhaps a better question would be how *much* she missed Ops. The answer was, a lot. More than she could accurately express, but Starfleet had placed her elsewhere.
DeVeau: I do, quite a bit. But that’s the life of an officer sometimes.
Ross: I used to work on stations further out. I kinda enjoyed the atmosphere out there, the loneliness. Although the food is way better up here.
Loneliness. Alora knew about that, painfully so. That loneliness still weighed heavily upon her, and while Ross might like it, she didn’t. It reminded her of who she had lost. That loneliness was because he was no longer there. He was dead. Gone. And he could never come back. Turning away, she focused on the people on the floor, trying to keep her eyes from filling up with more moisture.
DeVeau: You never know where they will put you, but it’s always with a purpose. A reason. They put you where you’re most needed, and I’m sure Ops is better off with you there.
He smiled. Thinking back to their shared Holodeck experience it was a little surreal that they shared such smalltalk - he enjoyed Alora’s presence, without agenda, even forgetting about their ranks for a moment.
Ross: Should I get another drink? We haven’t properly toasted yet.
He sensed that she wasn’t eager to dive deeper into these stories.
DeVeau: We haven’t!
She was grateful for the shift in conversation, grateful that it had turned to something that was more positive in nature.
DeVeau: Though…
Her eyes drifted to the synchronised motions of others. She loved to dance, even now, despite the sorrow that still lingered, the floor called to her.
DeVeau: Do you dance, perchance?
Ross froze for a second, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. Oh boy. Was there any way to deny her request without being the cause of another sorrowful glance? Sure, he had noticed the shadows overtaking her expression, and he didn’t want to be the reason they returned, now that there was some excitement in Alora’s eyes.
Ross: Well…
DeVeau: I love to dance. I haven’t really danced properly since my departure.
In truth, she hadn’t danced properly since the Romulan diplomatic mission which had turned chaotic…and heartbreaking. She tried hard not to think of that, and yet it continued to come to mind. Perhaps there was a reason Starfleet had transferred her off of Ops. Although she returned from time to time to proctor exams, it wasn’t the same as being there, living there where there were daily reminders of what had happened.
With the distant look on her face there was no other choice than to commit. Ross refrained from sighing lightly, even though he could already imagine the talk. An Ensign, basically still a Cadet, leading a commanding officer to the dancefloor? In front of his drunk fellow graduates? oO A few more days and you will never see them again Oo Alora, however? This might not be their last meeting, and even if it was, Ross already knew he wouldn’t sleep well tonight after having denied her solemn request.
Ross: It’s been a while. But I could try?
DeVeau: Would you indulge me?
Ross: :: hesitating just one more second :: … of course.
Hesitantly, he offered Alora his arm. Nobody really cared for them when they slowly approached the dancefloor - most cadets were way too occupied with themselves, and a good portion of them had already left. The music wasn’t as ecstatic as a few minutes before - the slow harmonies fitted the infinite starlight above their heads, mixing softly into the low voices. But still, it was the atmosphere Ross had fled from just minutes ago. The sounds boomed inside his head, numbing his thoughts, but he tried to focus on Alora in front of him. He was just about a head taller than her, enough to make sense of the placement of his hand, when he carefully moved it towards her waist.
Ross: May I?
DeVeau: Please.
It wasn’t hard to guess that dancing meant something special for her. So when they started to move he tried his best to adapt to her motion without leading too heavily - with slow steps and careful swings, this became a little group project of not disturbing the opposite flow. He actually enjoyed it after a few heartbeats, if it hadn’t been for the noise around them - and the curious looks, of course.
Ross: :: lowering his voice :: You know I won’t hear the end of this.
Alora arched an eyebrow. It probably didn’t help that she had, up until very recently, been the station’s first officer. Still, it was just a dance, though she enjoyed the swell of the music, the swaying motions, the in and out, the way they worked together to choreograph a story while enjoying themselves in the process.
DeVeau: It’ll be fine, I promise.
************
Ensign Evan Ross
Intelligence Officer
StarBase 118 Ops
O240009ER2
&
Commander Alora DeVeau
Mission Specialist &
Second Officer
Denali Station
M239008AD0