Commander Dal - Shrink, Shrank, Shrunk! (tags: Any / FAO: ALL)
Jamie LeBlanc
((Ballroom C-10, Starbase 118))
Valeria: Come, let me show you to your places!
The lights dimmed to a dramatically low tone, highlighted by colorful stage lights that danced and decorated the tables with splashed of color. Their Troyan hostess waved them forward with a winning smile, but Alora and Ishreth lingered back, sensing the hesitation, even pain coming from Solaris.
McLaren: Go on ahead... I'll find my way to my seat.. :: she paused. :: Just something I need to take care of first.
DeVeau: Is everything all right, Sol?
Dal: Commander?
His tone was soft, but compassionate. A polite, un-invasive invitation to talk.
Valeria: Is it serious? Should I hold your place?
Her yellow brows knit, trying to ensure her valued Starfleet guests were well taken care of.
McLaren: No, hopefully its nothing serious. Shouldnt take me too long. :: She looked to Valeria. :: Thank you for the wonderful tour.
Alora looked disappointed to see Sol leaving. Valeria looked disappointed to see Sol leave. Ishreth looked concerned, feeling that protective worry bubble up within him.
DeVeau: Looks like it’s just us.
Valeria: Let me show you to your table.
Hopefully dinner and drinks would improve the saddening mood. She hoped!
Dal: Please.
He offered a hand to her, which Valeria took with a smile and she lead the duo to a head table, close to the presentation, decorated by colorful lights, with a vase of brilliant flowers in the middle.
DeVeau: Is this where we’re sitting?
Valeria: Ah, yes! Please, each place has a nametag!
He allowed his antennae to curl forward in a familiar calm expression. This sort of formality was well known to him, and he settled in easily.
Dal: This is quite lovely, Thank you Miss Secretary.
He found himself seated directly next to Alora, who turned towards him, dark eyes glittering.
DeVeau: I fully intend to collect my dance after this.
He offered her a pleasant expression, even the slightest hint of the smile that was expressed in his antennae filtering into his facial features.
Dal: I am fully amenable to that. Commander.
He turned, Antennae catching the newcomer before his eyes did. A well dressed reporter who was not Jafarr Symote. Lovely.
Harper: Commander DeVeau, so nice to see you again. Do you mind if I join you? ::They’d had a friendly lunch but Alex was not sure if they were on first name terms just yet.
Dal: It does look like you are seated at this table. ::he gestured to where the staff was pointing out Harper’s attractive little namecard.:: Welcome. It is good to make your acquaintance.
The Andorian spoke evenly, pleasantly and politely.
DeVeau: ?
Harper: Thank you, looks like I’m just in time
His antennae tipped forward.
Dal: Yes, dinner is about to start, as well as the keynote speaker.
DeVeau: ?
Harper: Lovely to meet you both ::looking to Dal and Valeria in turn:: Alex Harper, FNS.
Dal: Ishreth Dal, Starfleet.
He offered, again politely, formally. No hostility there, but vaguely. Meaning there was not pre-built trust either. Just pleasant neutrality for now.
DeVeau: ?
They settled in for dinner and quite the entertainment…
~*~
(time skip – end of dinner)
The lights lowered and glittered over the formal ballroom. Dinner was exquisite – a choice of meat or vegan entrees perfectly prepared, joyously tender, expertly seasoned.
Everyone had a drink – either or real alcohol or high-quality non-alcoholic variety. The menu was tantalizing, time to settle and relax while Bissk Jevan unveiled his wondrous orb.
At first it was a dull shape, deep violet, pulsing with a deep unlocked power. Everyone could feel carefully caged potential in it. Bissk’s fervent belief that this was an orb of the Prophets was certainly a possibility. Absolutely a possibility. The audience became more sure that it was a possibility with every passing moment.
And they stood, with an ovation of applause, stirred by the feelings in the orb. Seeing the perspective of how important this orb was to the Bajoran people. How much Bissk Jevan believed in this orb.
And then it surged with energy, greedily lapping up every bit of electricity it could get. It started to glow with a growing power until it hit a breaking point and there was a dazzling, awe-inspiring flash.
And everything went black.
~*~*~
((Pirate Ship Drowning Band - In a living sample cage))
Ishreth Dal groaned, feeling like he was waking up from the galaxy’s worst hangover. And yet he did not remember drinking anything stronger than a small glass of icewine.
He was laying on the ground, and the ground was hard.
Why was he on the ground?
He moved and went to right himself and the entire world spun giddily. Not cool. Very not cool. He waited for the world to stop spinning.
There were a bunch of others laying or slowly waking in what looked to be a… cage?
Dal: Is everyone… alright?
His voice was soft, but ringing. It hurt his ears to speak.
Anyone: ?
He struggled to his feet, his vision clearing and he peered outside the cage.
Dal: Where are we?
Anyone: ?
He looked up, down, over and then back to the speaker.
Dal: Sample case? We couldn’t all possibly fit in a sample case…
Oh but they had. And slowly it was sinking in that they were much, much smaller than before – and in a very strange place.
Anyone: ?
~*~
tags/tbc
~*~
Commander Ishreth Dal
Marine Liaison Officer
StarBase 118 Ops
~Julian Beck
E239010ST0