[JP] Lt.Cdr. Maxwell & Lt.Cdr DeVeau - Lessons in Romulan Pt2
Amanda Nordstrom
((Academy Classroom, Starbase 118))
Hamada - a Japanese name, though that did not necessarily mean the woman had been born and raised in Japan. Perhaps she was like some others she knew, a child on a colony, or raised among the stars. Still, there was some ancestry there. It spurred Alora’s curiosity, but that was a question for after class.
Hamada: Today we are going to be looking at some of the basics. Introducing yourself and the like before we gradually move on to more difficult stages. Does anybody have any questions before we begin?
((Timeskip: Approximately 90 minutes later.))
As the class emptied at a fairly brisk pace, Max cast a sly grin at Alora.
Maxwell: Guess I’m buying that beer myself?
Of the students in the class, the two of them were a little less quick on the draw, not confined to a schedule with multiple classes and a limited amount of time to travel from one to the other . Casting a sly smile at the second officer, she chuckled.
DeVeau: I guess so. I probably should have said ‘if not, you buy me a drink’ but that opportunity has passed.
Glancing toward the professor, a thoughtful expression settled over Alora’s features. Max looked towards the officer that had been teaching the class, before looking quizzically back to Alora.
Maxwell: So go and speak tae her?
DeVeau: Heh, think I should?
Max shrugged, waiting until the lecturer was near level with them before speaking.
Without thinking about it, he did so in Romulan.
Maxwell: [Thank you for the lesson this evening, Centurion. It has been good to practice again.]
Hamada stopped, smiling broadly at the man, and then at the officer she had also smiled directly at before the start of the class.
Hamada: [You are most welcome. I am glad you had a pleasant evening.]
There was a pause, as she looked between them again. Max felt his cheeks redden slightly and he motioned to Alora.
Maxwell: [This is Centurion DeVeau. First officer to Starbase 118.]
DeVeau: [Well met, Centurion Hamada.]
Pausing, Alora contemplated what to say next. She had the basic greetings down and understood what had been stated thus far, but there was something else that made her a little more eager to speak to the professor.
DeVeau: [Where are you from?]
Hamada: [Japan. ::She paused.:: Sapporo if I was to be specific.]
Max took a tiny step backwards, his self-appointed mission to introduce the pair having been completed.
Immediately, Alora’s eyes lit up, and she quickly switched to a tongue from a culture that, while she could not claim to be native, had been welcomed and adopted by it with open arms. Without hesitation and with a natural fluidity, Japanese replaced the Romulan.
DeVeau: Soune!? [That’s where I’m from too!]
That wasn’t Romulan. And based upon the two place names that had been mentioned, Max took a flying leap towards presuming it was in fact, Japanese.
Hamada tilted her head slightly, regarding the woman in front of her before also switching tongues to Japanese.
Hamada: [You are from Sapporo?]
Max scratched his beard as confusion overtook him. Alora grinned and shook her head.
DeVeau: [Ah, no. I was born in Virginia, but moved to Japan when I was ten. I consider it home.]
Hamada: [Aah, I see. Where did you move to in Japan? To consider my country your home, you must have enjoyed your time there greatly.]
Maxwell: I’m a little lost here?
Max grinned, totally lost as to what was being discussed. Turning back to her friend, Alora patted his arm.
DeVeau: I’m sorry Max, I got a little excited.
Maxwell: Oh, it’s nae bother. I’m happy tae just listen along.
It sounded like a fascinating language to learn, but Max wasn’t sure he could fit a fourth language into his brain. That earned him a light smile tinged with humour.
Hamada: My apologies for stealing your good lady. Lieutenant-Commander Hamada. ::She paused, feeling a little stupid suddenly as she realised he already knew her name from the start of the class. Her false confidence evaporated with an almost audible ‘poof!’:: Um…
DeVeau: Lieutenant Commander Alora DeVeau.
Alora offered a traditional bow as well as the traditional greeting upon making a new acquaintance.
DeVeau: Douzo yoroshiku. (Pleased to meet you.)
His good lady?
Maxwell: Oh, we’re no a-
DeVeau: We’re just friends.
Oh dear. Now she’d made the awkward assumption that two friends were a couple.
Mentally, she face-palmed herself whilst trying to maintain her composure.
Alora chuckled, though whether from the assumption or the perceived discomfort of both of the other lieutenant commanders was unclear.
DeVeau: Commander Hamada, there are others from Japan on the station. Have you had the opportunity to meet Yuki and Aiko Watanabe?
She hadn’t. But admittedly, she went to work and then went home. And did other work from home. And when she was too tired to cook at home, she would replicate something or order in, spending as little time answering the door as possible before being able to disappear into her little realm once more. She even did her exercises at home, pounding the treadmill with music pumping from her earbuds. She spent the vast majority of her time at home. Which is what you did when you didn’t know anybody. Or at least, that’s what she did.
Hamada: I have not. Are they permanent residents?
Max gave a light shrug. He had no idea who they were, although the CTO that had preceded him and stepped down to assistant-chief had been Japanese. Good man Sakata, if a little mysterious at times.
DeVeau: Yuki owns Raging Ramen over in the commercial sector, and her daughter Aiko helps there sometimes. ::Elbowing Max, she added.:: Maybe the three of us could go there sometime. They’re really good, some authentic versions as well as some that take inspiration from other cultures. They also have a few more dishes besides Ramen. I’m particularly fond of the udon.
Hamada: Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude.
Maxwell: It’s nae bother. Always nice tae have extra company.
He wondered what the elbow was for, as he was always up for food. Max was universally hungry.
She considered things for a moment. They both seemed nice, and she had told herself to try and actually meet people. She could always climb out of the bathroom window if the place was too much like a busy crowd.
Hamada: Um, I’d be delighted to. ::She smiled.::
DeVeau: Jouzune!
Alora clapped her hands with delight, grinning broadly at the woman. She would just have to remember no to chatter too much in Japanese with Max there. To do so would be rude and leave him out.
DeVeau: When are you available?
Hamada: Perhaps tomorrow, for lunch? I only have a morning lecture and the day is my own after that.
DeVeau: Excellent. What about you, Max?
A chance to make a new friend, a chance to get to know a friend a little better. It was a win win for Alora.
Max nodded enthusiastically at the thought of trying somewhere new.
Maxwell: Aye, sounds good tae me.
Hamada: You’re Scottish? ::She asked with a smile.::
He patted a hand against his tartan-covered thigh.
Maxwell: Kilt gave it away, aye? ::He looked down for a moment.:: Cannae say I’ve seen anybody else wearing one about the place mind.
DeVeau: Oh yes, and he looks really good in a skirt.
Skirt? Oh, no she didn- Max took a playful swipe at her. Immediately, Alora took a step to the side to avoid any possible smacks at that little comment. The humour behind his ‘glare’ was given away by the smile that he failed to hide. For her part, Hamada hid a smile behind a hand.
Maxwell: Kilt, Alora. It’s a kilt.
DeVeau: Oh, excuse me. Kilt. Skirt. Same thing, right?
Maxwell: Kilts and skirts are nothing alike thank you very much.
Glancing at Hamada and offering her a wink, Alora wasn’t about to let it lie there. She had found a weakness, and she was going to use it.
DeVeau: It doesn’t have legs, it hangs and swishes when you walk. It’s a skirt.
Hamada stood looking between the pair, the amused smile still hidden behind a casual hand.
Maxwell: It’s no a skirt. ::He grinned.:: It’s a kilt. Totally different.
DeVeau: Then, pray tell, enlighten me as to the difference. Obviously I am sorely ignorant.
Hamada: Clearly that makes two of us?
Hang on a minute, were they ganging up on him already?
Maxwell: For a start, you wear pants with a skirt, and-
He stopped. Perhaps that was far too much information to share with a friend. Never mind somebody you had only just met.
Maxwell: It’s a kilt. ::He finished rather weakly with a resigned grin.::
DeVeau: No, you don’t wear pants with a skirt. I mean, it’s a skirt, it replaces pants. Just like your kilt. Your skirt.
Maxwell: I’m no talking about trousers, I mean pants.
He laughed, despite the burn of his cheeks.
Hamada: You are lucky it’s a warm day then.
Alora’s gaze twinkled and she couldn’t help but laugh as Max did. Was she laughing at him? Yes, but also laughing with him. Her teasing wasn’t malicious, but done because he was her friend. He could take it.
DeVeau: Yes. Always nice to wear a skirt on a warm day.
Max pointed a playfully accusing finger between the pair, before sticking his tongue out at Alora.
Maxwell: Now you’re just picking on me.
DeVeau: Of course I am! What are friends for?
Alora knew full well Max was likely to do the same, and probably get her back at some point. Then again, maybe not. If nothing else, Max was the cuddly teddy bear of Tactical.
DeVeau: All right, enough about skirts. What say you two to actually getting some food in our bellies?
Max grinned.
Maxwell: Aye, sounds class that. I’m so hungry I could eat a buttered frog the now.
That earned Max a rather mixed expression from their lecturer turned meal companion.
Hamada: That sounds….. Awful. ::To Alora, with a smirk.:: It’s like a different language.
DeVeau: Maybe we can give him a Japanese lesson on the way.
Hamada: Challenge accepted!
Max scratched at his beard.
Maxwell: Its no me talking a different language.
Offering another smile, Hamada motioned towards the classroom door.
Hamada: After you then, commander.
Ah, there it was, the title. Not that Alora didn’t abide by them, they just weren't in a formal setting. And really, her first name was just fine - and she’d only insisted on her title by others when they were being disrespectful toward her. Which had only happened rarely.
DeVeau: No need to be so formal. Just call me Alora.
A slight nod of the head preceded the reply.
Hamada: Well, if we are being informal then please, just call me Kiyo.
Maxwell: And I’m just Max.
Max mentally facepalmed himself. Of course he was, Alora had already mentioned his name several times. He started to go a little red.
DeVeau: Actually, his first name is Arturo, but everyone, and I mean everyone calls him Max. I’m not sure why.
That was the only Alora did so. Otherwise, she’d been rolling Arturo off her tongue, or even simply ‘Art’. But that wasn’t him. He was Max. So Max it was.
Hamada: So, where are we heading?
DeVeau: Well, like I said, I was thinking Raging Ramen. Great food, authentic and inspired by other cultures, plus the owner is Japanese.
That sounded wonderful, and Hamada smiled inwardly as she found herself walking in between the other two. Somewhere new to try, with two new people.
***************
Lt.Cdr. Arturo Maxwell
CTO/2O
Starbase 118 Ops.
O239311AM0
&
Lt. Cmdr. Alora DeVeau
First Officer
Starbase 118 Ops
M239008AD0