Lieutenant Amelia Semara - Insufficient Femininity

[Max]

(( Bridge, Deck 1, USS Khitomer, Ceram Archipelago ))

The abstract, romantic wonder of first contact was slowly giving way to the swiftly changing, chaotic reality.  The hard-shelled, whisker-faced, compound-eyed women on the other side of the screen were unquestionably dangerous.  They'd all but confirmed the Lattice Alliance strike group met an unceremonious end here in the nebula at the claws of the very captain they now spoke to, if the silken pride in her words that Amelia sensed was anything to go by.

Now, Khitomer was stuck in the very same predicament, only they were considerably more able and willing to try talking.  Staring down fuzzy sensor-ghosts of a vast, complex ship close by in the nebula gave the distinct image of a predator deciding what to do with its paralyzed prey.

The gambit so far: keep them talking.  Make the crew's knowledge more useful than the calorie count to be gained from their bodies.  And the only people who could do that, apparently, were women.

Rana: =/\= Allow me to discuss with my crew. =/\=

A. Dewitt: Response

Not only was the Khitomer in no condition to host anyone, there was no telling what these aliens would think of men standing tall and doing their jobs in every corridor...  Or what they'd do.  Amelia could already imagine the new species "ridding them of their infestation" and calling it a favor.  The misandry was powerfully distasteful even in Amelia's culturally matriarchal milieu, but they weren't in a position to debate it.  The reality was the Khitomer was teetering to keep alive.  There was only one option, but it came with other benefits.

Semara: :: Leaning in towards Ayemet to be unheard by comms. :: If we visit their ship, we might be able to find out how they ain't stuck in the nebula...

A. Dewitt: Response

Semara: :: Half to Ayemet :: =/\= If it pleases, we could join y'all within a quarter hour?  I 'spect we've a lot to learn from each other. =/\=

Now turned back to the screen, Amelia's eyes narrowed.  The conversation on the other side was taking some time.  She couldn't help but sense a glossy, prideful, almost arrogant hardness from them feeling much like their tough, inflexible exoskeletons.  Then, they'd probably earned that - what possible power did they have to contend with if even subspace weapons had no real effect on their armor?  The bearing and angle of the captain's body spoke to Amelia's empathic senses: underneath the upturned-nose of superiority, there was still a curiosity.  Only the inquisitive posture seemed to bend and curl around the wrong way...

A. Dewitt: Response

Semara: :: To Ayemet :: I ain't sure I like it either, but talkin' is still better than shootin'...

Rana: Of course. ::turning to address A.Dewitt, Semara:: =/\= We would like to learn more about your species. To...share. We are aware that you are not all one. Please send...at most five representatives. Naturally we prefer an all-female delegation, but if you must bring the bonded one along, we...understand. =/\=

Amelia shot a glance, and gave a little shake of her head that sent a tress of hair jittering.  They might as well have said, "Oh, it's totally okay to bring along your crazy great-uncle with political views over a century old to the family dinner!"  It was a host's attempt to make a guest feel comfortable, but ultimately meaningless as a real suggestion.

A. Dewitt: Response

Another inaudible suggestion made off-screen drew the woman's attention, and a nod.  The staccato head motion in the hard features was unsettling and overly definitive.

Rana: =/\= My technological lead is standing by to ensure that there is no cross-contamination between the ships, including medical exams for your representatives. One quarter hour. Prepare yourselves, as we prepare ourselves. We will expect your signal. Goodbye, Khitomer.  =/\=

Semara: :: A gracious smile. :: =/\= 'Til then.  Khitomer out. =/\=

The smile slipped, then she sighed as her lips and eyebrows seemed to float around her face.

Semara: I don't think they care much for what we know 'bout the Lattice Alliance.

A. Dewitt: Response

Semara: :: A nod :: Let's go.

(( Conference Room, Deck 1, USS Khitomer, Ceram Archipelago ))

For an instant, Amelia half-wondered if the three officers were huddled around a scribbled pen drawing one of them had made.  In the next instant, she realized it was the half-resolved tactical scan of the ship someone was about to go visit.  She squinted, already cooking up scientific questions before she remembered that wasn't her job anymore.  Not the first time or first reason for missing the labs today...

She gave Connor a strange, half-cocked smile composed of one part genuine excitement and one part the bravery of a self-acknowledged lunatic.

Semara: We're goin' over there.  :: Beat, then hopefully :: Unless y'all got scans of their engines and know how to get us outta here?

A. Dewitt / C. Dewitt / Stros / Korras: Response

Amelia mentally named the people who could actually go over there.

Semara: Well, that's it, ain't it?  They said a maximum a' five, and we only got five female bridge officers.  I ain't sure they trust us.  An away team a' two might seem suspicious.

A. Dewitt / C. Dewitt / Stros / Korras: Response

Her gaze wandered out the window into the hazy purple nebula that had gotten hold of them.  It looked like a strong antacid.  Maybe it would help with the way a natural-born predator's aura on the periphery of her telepathic senses was making her stomach churn.

Semara: It ain't the only problem.  :: Beat, looking back. :: Can we risk transporters in this nebula?  A shuttle's prolly gonna get just as tangled up as the Khitomer.

A. Dewitt / C. Dewitt / Stros / Korras: Response

Tag / TBC...

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Lieutenant Amelia Magnolia Semara

Intelligence Officer

USS Khitomer - NCC-62400

A239710MA0