Makeshift meeting

Posted on Wed Mar 28th, 2012 @ 5:48pm by Captain Elsie Halliwell & Lieutenant Cedric Shepherd

2,136 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: Fishing
Location: USS Pelican, Mess Hall
Timeline: Current

Lieutenant Commander Mar'Rela had retired to the small and sparse mess hall on board the USS Pelican as the old Steamrunner-class hurtled itself through space en route to rendezvous with the Ranger. He stiffly sat down at one of its square tables and poured himself a crisp glass of iced-water to refresh himself before returning to the bridge to continue his duty shift.

The Vulcan first officer had not had much time for meditation since the ship was redirected to assist with the Intrepid's newly discovered predicament with the suspect Romulans, and he, as yet, had not suffered for the lack of it. However, as the hours wore on, he had found that minute irritations had begun to tap ever so gently at the frame of his mind. But, with discipline, he could still manage to control his emotional reactions.

He sat, staring at his beaker of clear liquid and grasp the few moments left of silence as the door to the mess breathed open, admitting another officer.

Jensar strolled through the doors, with almost careless abandon. He stretched his back and arms out wide, then looked around. His quarters on the Pelican were nice, but he couldn't wait to be able to arrive on the Ranger. A new ship, a new position -- it was everything that he was wanting for a while -- a change of pace. Just the same though, Jensar moved to take a seat with some food and drink. Upon glancing around the Mess Hall, he noted a Vulcan who happened to be sitting alone, and looking at him curiously. Jensar moved to the table, and asked, "Commander, sorry to bother you, is this seat taken?"

"I was considering taking it to ask my primero if the mess water is really that much better than the bridge's," intoned a moderately accented voice from behind Jensar. Immediately thereafter, an athletic, olive-skinned man inserted himself between the pair, a smile breaking up the severity his wording or the clean-shaven, chiseled face perched above the quartet of pips on his scarlet collar might've imposed. Chuckling, Tomas Zaragoza regarded both men as he added, "but I suppose I can relent. Perhaps a new face can encourage Mister Ma'Rela to deepen his beverage palette so that he doesn't look quite so conspicuous down here."

"My palette," the Vulcan retorted with the obligatory straight face his crew barely saw him without, "is sufficiently deepened, Captain. I was merely thirsty." As a gesture, he clasped the beaker with his solid, grey hand and mechanically took a sip from its contents. "And, as no doubt you are fully aware, the stock-pile of water this ration is taken from also serves the bridge's reserves. They are the same." He nodded, a note of sarcastic humour lining his lifted brow. "But no, Lieutenant," he replied to Jensar, "this seat is unoccupied."

Jensar took a seat, and leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other, and then folded his hands and placed them on his knees. Staring at both men, letting his senses flow freely. While he was not invading anyone's thoughts, he was letting his empathy reach out to catch a bit of the feelings around the area. "So," began Jensar, "how are you doing this evening Commander?" Before he had a chance to really catch his breath, he added, addressing the captain "And with you Sir?"

Mar'Rela nodded to Zaragoza, allowing him the courtesy of answering first.

"Quite well, Mister Barim," Tomas answered as he settled into a chair of a neighboring table. The specific mention of the Lieutenant's movement in the Pelican's orders kept his identity fresh on Zaragoza's mind despite this being their first live meeting. "I trust our accommodations aren't too much more confining than the Eisenhower's?

Jensar nodded to himself, more than anyone, and replied, "Actually, they are not all that bad sir. I appreciate you asking. While the Eisenhower was rather large, being a Galaxy-class starship, the Pelican is very nice. If you don't mind my asking, sir, do you have something of a timeframe in which we will make link up with the Ranger? I hate packing, and I wanted to ensure that I give myself tons of time."

Tomas took much of Jensar's reply with a small smile, and even a chuckle. While a Steamrunner's shadow could overlay much of the legendary Constitution-class, this came in no small part from a profile in which the Pelican's nacelles comprised half her length. A first-block Steamrunner sporting an evolution of the class' ambitious original armament thanks to her initial service as a deep space station support ship, Tomas believed it possessed one of the best balances of versatility and livability despite bordering on snug. Ships capable of outmaneuvering Pelican typically weren't fit for more than a few weeks of remote operation, and all many could do in tense situations was get out of their own way since they had no recourse of consequence. Alternatively, larger ships had the caveat of requiring greater forethought to effectively utilize. Good captains were ever-anticipative regardless, but a ship he didn't have to have second-guess the immediacy of made life a little easier in that regard.

"Primero?" Tomas' gaze found his Vulcan XO again, and he spoke with facetiousness like that from his first address. Though aware of their status, he deferred to Mar'Rela since he was the current officer of the watch. "Are you sufficiently quenched to provide an update on our progress to Taylforth?"

"No," came the Vulcan's curt reply. "However, I will do so just the same." He then gazed down to the PaDD that he'd earlier placed next to his beaker and tapped in a command as the display screen altered. Looking up to his captain, he raised the familiar eyebrow and tilted his head before relaying the annoyingly precise calculations. "At current speeds, we shall reach the edge of the Taylforth system in eight hours and twenty three minutes. Factoring into this estimation time allowed for minor course corrections and the binary star system that will, at present course, force us to divert three degrees starboard for four minutes; a procedure that Mr. Tibb on helm has neglected to include thus far, I predict that we shall need to slow to impulse to enter the system in eight hours and thirty six minutes."

"Well, there you go," Tomas offered to Jensar with a sweep of an upturned palm and no concern for their reported course deviation evident in his demeanor. "a little over eight and a half hours. There's a slight chance of other impediments, however. As you may've already gathered from inter-ship musings, what began as a follow-up survey of Taylforth IV has become a bit of a stand-off between the Ranger and a Romulan mining vessel they stumbled upon while investigating the planet's oceanic transformation."

Jensar leaned back into his chair and nodded. "Aye sir," he began, "I have heard the 'musings', shall we say. . .about the stand-off. However, I see it as a glorious opportunity to ensure that the Ranger has back up. The Romulans are nothing, if not completely devious when it comes to their cloaking abilities. I would not be surprised, in the slightest, to learn that they have a Bird of Prey nearby the system. Just the same though, it provides me the necessary time to pack and prepare to transfer to the Ranger should nothing be wrong."

"I'd give you more information, but there's little in the way of specifics," Tomas sighed and shook his head, "and Admiral Singh requested that we minimize forewarning of our dispatch. I dislike deploying Pelican blind. However, I can appreciate the reasoning. The quiet appearance of more eyes will put pressure on the Romulans to play nice. Along with reinforcing Ranger, it will devalue any vilification since the miners will have no aggressive acts to show for it despite our tactical superiority." A broad, knowing smile relit the Spaniard's visage, which had darkened as he touched upon their forced ignorance. "Besides, I doubt we'll want for information when we do arrive. In fact, my only outstanding concern is that in getting it, Elsie and her people pick up on something the Romulans rather they didn't."

Jensar leaned forward, and focused on that last statement. "How do you mean, sir?"

The ranking officer commenced through an exhale as he deepened his recline. "Elsie. . .or should I say 'Captain Halliwell,' was one of my academy classmates. We met on the swim team, though it was a while before we became amicable. Very discreet in spite of her presence; her repute as one of the keenest field minds today resides with her Sci Ops record far more than any social lore. In fact, she has already committed to investigating strange readings emanating from Taylforth that along with the geological shift, had no precedent in the previous survey. If those miners are responsible and left the slightest clue indicating so, I can think of few people more apt to find them than Captain Halliwell."

Mar'Rela looked quietly between the two officers conversing and, as the mention of Captain Halliwell's name piqued his interest, he squinted his eyes and then leant back as an indication he was about to speak. "'Formidable' is a term I seem to have come across on several reports pertaining to her command style," he interjected softly. "A word so often used by humans that is pregnant with emotional resonance. It would appear difficult to accurately gauge the commander's professional limits with such ambiguous descriptions. 'Resourceful' is yet another example."

"Indeed, 'formidable' is a bit generic. . .and often singularly interpreted," Tomas concurred. "In fact, I often find trying to capture the essence of others with such simple adjectives inadequate. But resourceful," he amended, lifting and shaking a pointer in front of his lips during a brief, thoughtful pause, "that's actually very good."

Jensar looked from one, to the other, almost puzzled by their intriguing verbiage. However, utilizing what empathic abilities he could without violating his own personal oath concerning invasion of privacy, he could tell that both men had nothing but respect for Barim's new commander -- when he reached them. "Well," Jensar said, "if you gentlemen will excuse me, I had best prepare for my transportation to the Ranger, when the time comes." Turning to Captain Zaragoza again, Jensar asked, "Sir, is there a chance that I might be granted access to at least read up on the situation with the Ranger? I'd like to catch up, prior to our arrival."

"I don't see a problem with that. . .except that you only have transitory clearance." Pelican's CO briefly went silent before his eyes roved to Mar'Rela. "Primero? Rather than tasking someone to program clearance exceptions we won't retain, look into downlinking Admiral Singh's memo and Captain Halliwell's preliminary report to Mister Barim's quarters."

Mar'Rela nodded to Tomas in a curt, almost painfully professional manner. "I will make the necessary files available to Lieutenant Barim. But, in the meantime, if you'll both excuse me I'm required back on the bridge to facilitate the final course corrections to the system." The Vulcan stood mechanically and with a swooping bow collected both water and PaDD in hand. "Gentleman," he ended with a nod as he left the small mess.

Jensar stood up at attention as the XO left the table, and then turned to face the captain, "Sir, if I may be excused."

"The life of the party may've left us, but there's no need to revert to such formalities, Mister Barim," Tomas ribbed, also rising. He too had another matter requiring attention; the breakfast he'd staved in order to participate in this now dissipating makeshift meeting. Hardly the last he expected to hold in light of today being their first in the mission theater, getting a feel for the crew was partly why he was in the soon-to-be brimming mess rather than his office or on the bridge. Nonetheless, he welcomed the opportunity to mitigate his pangs so that he could physically and mentally commit to later encounters. "I have nothing else unless you have any other needs or concerns."

Jensar nodded and replied, "Aye sir, I'll head to my quarters now and prepare for our arrival, and catch up on a bit of reading I guess." With that being said, Barim turned toward the doorway and began his trek towards his room. He had a lot of reading to do, in order to catch up on the actions, though limited his access would be, of the Ranger.

 

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