JP: Captain Trake Promontory & Cmdr. Alora DeVeau - “Conversation Interrupted” (Part I)
Avander Promontory
((DeVeau’s Quarters, Deck 5, USS Thor))
Alora had invited Trake to her quarters for a good reason - Shyla. Since it was her home, the toddler was more familiar with the surroundings and more comfortable. In addition, she knew everything was child proofed. All plants within reach were behind forcefields, though Alora had started teaching her not to touch things as soon as she became mobile. Not only that, Shyla had her toys, which meant she had easy entertainment. Even if Trake might have been more relaxed elsewhere, logistically, it just made the most sense.
The table was set, but it lacked food, mainly because replicators could easily make anything that anyone wanted, and it was a very informal affair. Dinner, conversation, an opportunity for one to get to know the other one. From what Alora read, Trake’s past was fascinating, and even though she could read all about it, living testimony was far more interesting, and oftentimes more complete. Besides, the man probably needed a break. Even if it was a break that included a child.
When the chime announced the arrival of her guest, Shyla had just plunked down amid some toys, including two plushes, one of a creature that was a cross between a cat and a Tribble clad in a red Starfleet uniform and Captain’s pips, a miniature plush replica of the USS Independence, upon a rub with a replica of the Gamma Quadrant along with notable plants, solar systems, and places where both Captain Twibble and the Indy could explore. In addition, she had a couple of puzzles as well as non-digital activity pads that worked on skills such as zipping and unzipping, unlocking, sliding, and other skills a toddler needed to develop. At the sound, the child looked up while her mother called to the visitor.
DeVeau: Come in!
Promontory: Thanks.
Immediately, Shyla pointed at the man and turned to her mother.
Shyla: Dat?
Trake regarded the small person. oO Not Dad! Oo
DeVeau: That is Captain Promontory. Can you say ‘hi’?
Turning back to the man, the dark, Betazoid eyes stared up at him and she offered softly,
Shyla: Hi.
Then promptly returned her attention to Captain Twibble and the Indy’s exploits.
Trake gave the inattentive girl a small bow.
Promontory: Pleasure to make your acquaintance…
He paused, realizing he didn’t know the child’s name. He turned to Alora. Alora caught the questioning gaze, and offered the other end of the introductions.
DeVeau: Her name is Shyla.
Promontory: Ms Shyla.
She hadn’t expected the captain to remember her daughter’s name - after all, they had literally just met in person for the first time during a mission, then again when Sachiko did her little escape act. That reminded her, where was Sachiko? Glancing around, she couldn’t see either of the felines - which meant they were likely napping in the other room. Then, she switched gears. After all, he was a guest, and it was a particular time of the day, at least as people usually lived it on a Starship.
DeVeau: I didn’t know if you’ve eaten yet. Shyla has, and will be going to bed soon, but I know what it can be like for a commanding officer.
Some were notorious for forgetting meals, and Alora wasn’t guiltless in that department either - and she wasn’t a Captain!
Promontory: oO Do you now!? Oo I’ve had sufficient for my needs, but if you’re eating, I’d love to join you.
Sharing a meal was a fabulous way to get to know someone better and Alora was one of the most senior yet least known officers to Trake.
DeVeau: Please.
Alora motioned to a chair and, and followed it up with a scooping of the child. She immediately then began to ‘gnaw’ at the little one’s neck, which subsequently caused Shyla to squeal in delight, then drop her toys.
DeVeau: I’m so hungry, I think I’m going to eat you!
Trake raised an eyebrow. If young human flesh was on the menu, perhaps he’d abstain.
Shyla: No! No eat me!
Of course, there was no distress in the toddler’s voice, but her high pitched tone was laced with her own brand of humour. Sliding the child into a high chair, Alora bucked the girl in, then moved over to the replicator.
DeVeau: Category Alora, Butter chicken meal, one child.
Considering how many variations there were of various foods, Alora had made a category of her own and saved the ones she liked best to them, which made things a little easier. It appeared, the chicken atop some rice, with broccoli on the side. Removing it, she set it before the child, then looked to her captain.
DeVeau: What’s your pleasure?
Promontory: Whatever you’re having will be fine… As long as it’s not Shyla.
Alora promptly made the request to the replicator, then, after giving Trake his, she ordered a level seven Thai duck curry which, from the looks of it, included all the vegetables to make a complete meal. Finally, it was her turn to sit, and she settled down, then grinned over at her recently arrived companion.
DeVeau: So, what do you want to talk about?
Promontory: I want to hear more about you. You’ve been on the ship for over a year now and I hardly know anything about you outside your departmental reports. (beat) And you like plants.
That was obvious. On the walls surrounding them, Alora kept her own sort of Arboretum, though she had less variety than the one the ship had. Glancing around, she smiled coyly as she speared a piece of her broccoli.
DeVeau: I do like plants. How could you tell?
Trake smiled indulgently.
Promontory: I think it was the strongly worded request to “keep full control of the arboretum” as part of the switch from Science Chief to Mission Specialist.
Biting the floret off of her fork, she canted her head to the side and studied the man across from her. Like him, she’d served on the ship for a year, but during that time, they had actually never met face to face thanks to weird circumstances. Obviously, the last mission had seen they were thrust together in person, and now he’d arrived just in time for dinner. That had been purposefully timed.
DeVeau: What do you want to know? I’m assuming you know what’s in my file.
Promontory: That I’m familiar with. No, tell me about the ‘off-duty’ Alora. Who is the woman behind the plants?
DeVeau: Weeeeeell, other than what you can read, I also love animals. And people. I enjoy good company, reading, music…
At that, she glanced over at the corner where a digital piano stood along with a guitar and a Vulcan harp. Considering that none of them gathered dust, she either used them regularly, or just let the bots keep them really clean.
DeVeau: Movies, games, puzzles, I’m terrible at painting and flying, and, as you already know, I have a cat who likes to go out and visit people.
Trake took in the room–easily the busiest he had seen on board, bordering on being cluttered–and considered Alora’s response. It felt superficial, a list of preferences rather than anything particular about the individual.
Promontory: Yes, I heard Sachiko got around and involved with quite a few officers…
Trake was grateful that his own pet hadn’t been the subject of various and sundry reports.
By that time, Alora had taken another bite, and she lifted a finger, her eyes glinting with amusement. A moment later, she swallowed, and turned the tides on the captain.
DeVeau: Now, now, this can’t all be one sided. It’s your turn. Tell me about Trake Promontory.
Meanwhile, Shyla had already shovelled several florets of broccoli into her mouth, then picked up her spoon and banged it once on her table. Stretching out a hand, Alora gently caught the toddler and gave her a look. Shyla stared back. Withdrawing her hand, the mother waited for the man to answer while the toddler eyed her food.
Promontory: Well, you know my history–raised on a little old Earth colony. Entered the service right before the Dominion War broke out and then trapped for a few years in a temporal anomaly…
Trake considered what else he should share with the virtual stranger of a senior staff member who’d been there for over a year. It was a good opportunity to model what he hoped to hear from her.
Promontory: I wanted to be a scientist, y’know. Discover new mysteries, explore the depths of space. It was my major in the academy. But then when the war came, all our efforts were bent towards victory. I ended up spending a lot of my energy figuring out how to enhance shield regeneration or increase photon torpedo yields. (wistfully) Tactical science, they called it.
A frown flickered over her lips, but Alora quickly took a bite, nodding as she considered what Trake had told her. Caught in a time loop, there had been much he missed. She’d had her own interactions with strange time anomalies, and they had never ended well.
DeVeau: That sounds really hard.
Promontory: The worse was how the war destroyed our peace after–even years later, things weren’t the same. We–I–couldn’t just go back to ‘science as usual.’ (beat) I even found myself missing some of the adrenaline when we were assigned to do long range solar flare surveys…
He smiled and tried to gauge Alora’s reaction, particularly as a fellow former science officer. Would she judge him harshly for admitting that the slow-survey work could get boring? She was a full generation younger and could only have read about the events he had lived through as history. If she had any condemnation for him, she kept it to herself. Truthfully, by looking at her, it seemed she was quite interested, listening to his words, considering what he said carefully, and she had no admonishment or any counter to his statement.
DeVeau: I can imagine how it could be that way after what you’ve experienced.
Trake gave a shrug, that was just how life was sometimes, wasn’t it? But it was probably his turn to poke the conversation with a question.
Promontory: You’ve served on a variety of postings, if I recall correctly. How does the Thor compare?
DeVeau: Good question. I”ve been on ships, and I’ve been on stations. I’ve yet to have any missions that have turned out as planned and where things didn’t go awry. The ship is lovely, but to be honest, as long as I have tools at my disposal that I need to do my job, I’m not really the kind of person to care about how many nacelles it has, and that sort of thing.
Trake’s mind briefly went to the scrapped plans for a quad-nacelled Vesta that had been on the docket before they had to push forward the launch date:
After all, there was a reason she hadn’t gone into engineering. Alora shrugged, then quickly caught Shyla’s hand again as the child was about ready to throw a piece of broccoli. The hold wasn’t painful, but it was firm, preventing Shyla from doing what she had planned on doing and making a bigger mess than the already smattering of food across her table.
DeVeau: No. No throwing. Are you done?
Quickly, the child dropped the food. From the looks of things, she had been eating while the adults were talking and had taken in most of the butter chicken and broccoli - but enough of it was used to paint her emotions across the white plastic surface of her high chair. Lifting her hands, she waved them in the air in a gesture that seemed to be familiar enough that it communicated something. At that, Alora stuffed another bite in her mouth, before reaching for a napkin to wipe her hands. Then, the mother unbuckled the toddler, then set her on the floor. Immediately, Shyla ran over to a pile of toys and began to play with them, babbling incoherently.
DeVeau: It’s hard for me to compare, I guess. All the ships I’ve served on have been wonderful, but it’s the crew that really makes the ship.
Trake gave a knowing nod. He found that to be true as well, but he couldn’t remember a time serving with a crew (or civilian) as young as Shyla.
Glancing over at her daughter, Alora was satisfied with the child’s current occupation, then allowed herself to focus more on her guest.
DeVeau: And based on my experience, I would say this is as fine a ship as I’ve served on in the fleet.
Promontory: (teasing) No finer?
Smiling, Alora scooped up another bite. She wasn’t quite ready to shift the topic away from the man across from her. Lifting the spoon in the air, she let it hover before her as she asked her question right before allowing herself to eat again.
DeVeau: What about you? What’s it like being in the captain seat?
Trake poked at his replicated meat and gave it a swirl in the sauce.
Promontory: You’ve taken a stint in the chair, haven’t you?
DeVeau: Only because the commanding officer was having surgery. It wasn’t for very long.
And during that time, they had just barely managed to avoid a diplomatic incident which, had the assassination succeeded, would have resulted in a devastating war that spanned to all the quadrants.
[To be concluded]
Captain Trake Promontory
Commanding Officer
USS Thor
O239910AP4
&&
Commander Alora DeVeau
Mission Specialist
USS Thor
&
Matriarch of the 15th House
Betazed
M239008AD0