Navigating Navigators
Posted on Wed Jun 29th, 2022 @ 6:48pm by Lieutenant Commander T'an & Lieutenant Commander Dusan & Able Crewman Luk Benjawan
Mission:
Prelude: The Gathering
Location: Conference Room
Timeline: Mission Day 1 at 1600
Lieutenant Commander Dusan, Chief Navigator's Personal Log Stardate 8235.165 supplemental.
It was great to get some family time in on Argelius II. It was great to see my parents, my sisters, my brothers, their children, and even their grandchildren. It was blissful and serene to be back home with my loved ones. I left Argelius at the age of eighteen as a confused young man with hope and wonder to explore the stars to return home twenty years later. In my twenty years, I had discoveries of my own. Of who I am. I saw the galaxy and met interesting people but most importantly I learned more about who I am.
In that time I knew that family was important to me but I didn't know it was
[Dusan chuckles at that thought]
I'm set to arrive at Deep Space Station Lambda-2 for my next posting onboard the
End of log.
[USS Boimler: Private Guest Quarters]
[Mission Day 1]
[1430 Hours]
Dusan leisurely laid across the small sofa in his temporary quarters. He loosely wore the Argelian-style kimono with Southern Argelian flora that decorated the flamboyantly colourful fabric. He held a green hardcover, paperbound book up in the air in front of his face. In gold-lettered font: THE SONNETS OF BRAZEN DREAMS by ILIYA.
Iliya was an Argelian Poet that many of his contemporaries including Dusan themself consider the pre-Great Awakening poet laureate of Argelius II. His work survived the series of armed conflicts that decimated the Argelian Homeworld. His work had survived and a lot of the work of other poets was lost to time immemorial. Unfortunately due to Iliya's work, a lot of it was associated with the darkest period of Argelian history, his work was banned planet and solar system-wide. Dusan had managed to have picked up this copy from a book merchant.
The comm panel chirped next to the door, Dusan kicked themself around and rose to his feet tightening the sash around their waist to tighten it, and moved towards the panel. They pushed the button, "Go for Dusan."
"Lieutenant Commander, sir. We're dropping out of warp and will be dropping in transporter range of the Proxima within fifteen minutes," the ensign helm officer reported.
"Thank you, Ensign Tencredy. I'll be ready."
[USS Proxima]
[Mission Day 1]
[1530 Hours]
[Transporter Room]
After a rounded warble sound, the synthesizer crescendo of the pattern buffer warming reverberated. It crackled with a shrill singing as lines of salmon-colored light coalesced into an eye shape and parted. Bodies phased into existence as the pattern buffer reassembled them subatomic particle, by subatomic particle. As the crescendo died, replaced by that ebbing pulse that was almost reminiscent of shale song, a slender person in a Crewman's uniform put his hands behind his back.
Luk Benjawan had glossy, coarse black hair parted down the middle and bright, eager brown eyes. "Welcome aboard the Proxima," he stated at the six beings on his transporter pad. He gestured at the doors with first a hand, and then a pointing finger," "If you are here from Lambda-2, please follow the Engineer outside. She will take you to the impulse control room." A pair of engineers with kits on their shoulders seemed to rustle in awareness.
Luk continued, "Yeomans Soto, Ferris, and Simak," he nodded at two Humans and a young Vulcan, "Please see the Yeoman outside. He will escort you to your quarters and the Yeoman pool." There, Luk paused. The five affected crewmembers stepped off the transporter pad and whisked themselves out the door.
"You must be Commander Dusan?" Luke addressed the last person standing on the pad. Luk's posture had straightened some, arms behind his back, in the presence of someone who outranked him.
"You're correct Crewman, don't hurt yourself," Dusan replied almost in a sing-song when they stepped off of the transporter pad towards him. They wore their skant-style uniform and had their long Raven-black hair in a bun on the crown of their head. Dusan wore light mascara and cherry red lipstick.
Luk bobbed his head once and gestured at the door. "Yessir. Lieutenant Commander Rhowin is waiting for you in the Conference Room. Welcome aboard." His full lips smiled.
"That will do, thank you." The Argelian offered the Crewman a smile and then departed the Transporter Room for the Conference Room.
Sometime later, the doors of the Conference Room swooshed open and Dusan stepped through to find the Barzan XO sitting at the conference table, "Greetings, Commander. Lieutenant Commander Dusan, Chief Navigator."
The Barzan woman glanced up at the towering being, her eyes resembling spheres of sharded blue glass. They had a broad, sturdy build and yet had softened their long face with their hair up, lipstick, and eye treatment. Rhowin stood and put her hands behind her back. "Welcome aboard, Commander," she said with nebulous energy that was difficult to nail down- a mix of receptive warmth, nerves, professionalism, and mild surprise. "Please, sit. Would you like anything to drink?" She inquired with the lift of a hairless caramel eyebrow.
They sat down across the table from her, "Any type of coffee will do. One sugar, two creams."
The Barzan poked at the panel of greens and blues. She produced a cup of coffee as the Argelian wanted and a cup of yellowish-orange tea. Setting the drink before the newcomer, she opted to return to the food synthesizer. "Two Denevan Crab Puffs." A small plate appeared with two hors d'oveures. She settled it between them and slid into her seat.
"Please," she gestured at the snack. "Barzans believe the first welcome comes with food." She brought her tea to her chest, smiling. A light, teasing ghost of steam wandered up from her drink. She blew on it. "I have at least a dozen people to meet today." Her hairless eyebrows flexed upward. "I think I have a stationary cycle in my near future."
She sipped her tea. "To begin, I am Rhowin. I use feminine pronouns. Which pronouns do you prefer, Commander?" She asked sincerely, her shocking blue eyes studying the Chief Navigator.
"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Rhowin." Dusan smiled, "While I'm on duty I prefer they and them but I find pronouns interchangeable for how I present myself. Barzans and Argelians are quite alike it seems. Hospitality and taking care of our guests is a core principle for both of our peoples."
Dusan reached over for one of the crab puffs and took a small bite. A pleasurable sound escaped their lips, he didn't recall the last time they had eaten a crab cake let alone seafood, "Thank you. It's really good. If you're ever looking for an exercise partner, feel free to invite me along."
Rhowin made the mental note of her new colleagues' preferences. For the moment her crab puff sat uneaten while the powerful being across from her savored theirs. "I haven't been to Argelius but I heard it's one of the points in the vacation triangle." She paused. "Risa, Deneva, and Argelius?" Rhowin blew a soft stream toward the pool of her tea.
"What was your last posting Commander?" She asked. Her eyes blinked with curiosity behind the lazy steam from her beverage.
"You should definitely visit Argelius if the opportunity arises," Dusan replied and they continued onto her question, "My last posting was the Chaffee, Commander."
The Barzan agreed in principle that, someday, she should. Then she pivoted. The fleet was big. Rhowin acquiesced to herself that she didn't know the ship, its name origin, or its class. "Chaffee. I don't know anything about it. Tell me more. What was your main mission profile?"
"Our mission profiles were mostly operating as a scout ship but we conducted multiple supply runs to deep-space stations along the Romulan Neutral Zone during my time aboard."
The Barzan's hairless brows rose. "This might be quite a change for you then," she commented while she finally picked up her crab puff. Instead of downing the puff she delicately cupped it in her palm and plucked a piece of crisped meat off. She set it on her tongue. Delightfully buttery, sweet, and salty. "Our mission profile is still shaping up but we'll be operating somewhere between Klingon and Tholian space." And that implied the inherent danger of also being near the Gorn.
"Did you train under Operations or the Science division?" She asked the person seated before her.
"Science Division," the Argelian replied, "I developed an interest in Navigation, Astrometrics, and Stellar Cartography during my freshman year at the Academy."
The Barzan, still cupping her snack, ate a bit like a bird with fingers- daintily, with small pieces of the puff. "My first assignment was Stellar Cartography aboard the Ochoa. We stayed in the Orion Badlands, the Arcanis Sector. We had a lab," she gestured with a finger to sway at the size of the room, "This size. For all the space and planetary sciences labs for the whole ship." She smiled, dimpling near the jacked pits that held what looked like two microphones around her mouth. "I can't remember how many times I was told I'd have to generalize or die. I graduated as a Xeno-Anthropologist."
The Argelian smiled at the Barzan, "I've always been fascinated by the Orions as they have the same approach to pleasure as we Argelians do..." The Argelian unapologetically smiled, "Do you happen to know what our mission profile and parameters will be onboard the Proxima?"
The Barzan gently shook her head. She finished the last of the puff by tilting her head and popping the remnant into her mouth. "In the next few weeks, we have to finish a Shakedown." She sat back and domed her hands one over the other. "After that, we'll see."
The Argelian nodded their head and finished the crab cake in a few bites of their own, "Very well. Thank you for your hospitality. The crab puffs were.... exquisite..." They smiled and reached and took a sip from their coffee. It had cooled down quite a bit. "When do we get underway?"
The Barzan replied, "I am glad you enjoyed it," she added. "Four or five days is what is on the official record. Station L-2 can adjust that as they need." Her electric blue eyes jerked up and back, narrowing with only a moment of doubt. "Short of a Klingon incursion or a Gorn hunting raid, my Iseks would be on us getting underway in the next four days."
She rose and offered her hand. "A pleasure to meet you, Commander. I look forward to working with you."
The Argelian placed the mug down on the table and stood to their feet. They nodded their head, "And I look forward to serving with you too, Commander." They took her hand into their own, "Perhaps we should arrange a ladies' night on board the station before our departure?"
The Barzan's smile spanned in a bow. She nodded once, feeling affirmed that this Argelian seemed to conform to the existing story: cultured and sociable. "That might be nice," she agreed. Rhowin could feel the hollow pit in her stomach, the memory of that alone in a crowd feeling. It was a haunting feeling, but not an impediment. She rounded the conference table toward the door. "Do you have quarters yet, Commander? The Chief Steward has been," Her nose wrinkled, "A little slow."
"If not I am sure I can make arrangements to have temporary housing onboard the station. I'm not concerned in the slightest where I lay my head tonight." They smiled, "And I will keep you reprieved on ladies' night." The Argelian echoed the Barzan's movements towards the door as they walked now side-by-side to the door, "When do we expect the Captain to arrive?"
"I'll press the Chief Steward," Rhowin assured. "The Captain came aboard a little while ago. He is getting situated and talking with Starfleet Command." The doors whispered open. "I'll have the Chief notify you when your quarters are ready. Until then, please. Explore the ship. Most of it is on low power mode right now. But I believe the Observation Lounge is open, So is the Gym."
"Of course," the Argelian nodded their head and stepped through the door. They looked over their shoulder, "Speak soon."
Rhowin followed them out and put her hands behind her back, nodding agreement. She gave a small tinkle of fingers in a wave and watched as the person's form slipped the arc of the corridor. She turned inside and touched the comm panel. "Yeoman, I need to speak with the Chief Steward." She stated.
