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pwebranflakes
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It's good to see you, Vice Admiral. How have you been? Oh hey, I didn't know they were back too! Call 'em over.
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Elendro moves to his console, cracks his fingers, and taps the LCARS. A notification pops up on-screen, and clears his throat.
Vice Admiral Elessedil, calling Starbase 01. This is the Captain's Table. ...Ah! Great to hear! And such short notice! Tell them Mr Felczer invited.
The admiral turns back to the box of bran flakes cereal in front of him. He cracks a smile, and gets excited. We're getting visitors, sir!
Title : Captains Table
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Elessedil pushes a bowl directly to K'Mec, and raises his arms in flair. Enjoy, he says.
He knows it's not a good idea to shut himself off from his fellow captains, though. And maybe, if he's lucky, there'll be live music, too.
As he surveys the venue, he catches sight of a human--American, by accent, with a bowl of cereal. Another officer of unknown species seems to have taken charge of the festivities, including dealing with a surly Klingon officer (is this one of those Task Force Omega gatherings?) who was also demanding a bowl of bran flakes.
Alexei Ivanovich might not know anything about food from a personal perspective--he not only cannot eat it, but he lacks a sense of smell, too. But he does know it's odd for a Klingon to accept food that generally receives the description of "bland."
As he listens around the room, Captain Strannik hears a faint electronic noise that seems out of place--but he's not exactly sure where it's coming from. Nor is he sure if it's within the standard human hearing range. It doesn't sound like what he's heard around grenades or spatial charges, but he'll keep a careful "ear" on it nonetheless and see if he can zero in on the source.
While he's at it, though, he has a different type of intelligence-gathering in mind as well. He puts on a small smile that, while not natural to his underlying physiology, is still sincere. He's not sure who he's addressing his question to--Mr. Felczer, the American civilian, or to Elessidil.
He nods towards the stage, where a microphone and synthesizer sit, but no one has taken their places yet. He asks, "Anyone know when the music will start?"
[OOC: Are there any turn-taking rules for this RPG, once you're in, or do you just drop in when you feel like it?]
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Hello, sir, and welcome to the Captain's Table. I've read the reports on your species' warp travel. It's great to see another species come to interstellar travel. I'm Vice Admiral Elessedil, Battle Group Omega.
He raises his hand out, and pulls it back. No way to shake his, uh, tentacles.
Embarrassed with no way to express somatic greeting, he waits to see how the centaur-serpent will reply.
Captain Minase Iori was most bequested by Kha to attend this meeting as the Yamato was currently docked at ESD for turning over MACO deployments. Normally the Admiral himself would appear at a Captain's Table meeting but he was tied up with an epohh tagging party going into overtime and he still got Tholians to shoot on Nukara. Which was odd considering that Kha used to avoid away missions like the plague.
Considering the strangeness going on, she was beginning to see why he abstained.
Despite her years at the top of her classes at the Academy, Minase gave the blockage a small berth. Small Japanese women have had a long running history with tentacles after all.
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Being non-humanoid wasn't so much of a put-off to Alexei Ivanovich as it could be for some humanoids. By the strict definition, he himself didn't qualify as humanoid; his Devidian form's resemblance to the humanoid form was a matter of convergent evolution rather than infusion with the Preserver genome. And there was also the fact that, in his natural form--assuming any but a few could get past the terrifying knowledge of what his species was capable of--he had virtually none of the standard facial features, and no ability to replicate the standard facial expressions that made up so much of the humanoid emotional display repertoire. He could gesture, yes, but for many humanoids that wasn't enough.
It was...well...creepy, and Alyosha unfortunately knew it.
For him, though, there were other options open, to help him make a connection to the stranger--after all, when one's own species relied on other means, as far as he cound determine, then he could apply those abilities here.
His telepathic abilities weren't all that strong, and barely functioned at a minimal level without deliberate concentration. Still, he hoped it might be enough to get an idea of the being's frame of mind and intentions. And perhaps even answer the gender question. With humanoid minds--and Devidian minds, too, there was often a certain "feel" that gave him a clue as to gender.* There were outliers, of course, making it less than 100% reliable, but it often helped where visual cues might not.
He also focused his neural energy detection sense upon the alien, but found the resemblance to humanoid neural energy only passing. With no baseline for the being's metabolism and neurological patterns, the results were inconclusive.
So too was his telepathy, except for a vague sense of tension, which could be anything from illness to discomfort to simple nervousness. And no indications of the being's gender, or if it corresponded to the two humanoid and Devidian genders.
Still, he approached the being. He didn't want the poor individual to feel isolated because of species differences.
He nodded respectfully and gave the appearance, in his human form, of a small, nonthreatening smile. Then he said, "I'm Captain Alexei Ivanovich Strannik. You can call me Alexei Ivanovich, or if Strannik is easier, feel free to use that instead. How would you like to be called?
"Also..." He took a risk here, but hoped it would come across as polite interest and not as an inappropriate question. It might or might not yield an answer on the gender question, but it might at least give them some appropriate terminology. Maybe he'd get a pronoun, but a name or title would do as well. "What is the appropriate third-person terminology to use when I refer to you in conversation with others?"
[OOC]I have taken some creative license in my stories and given Devidians the same two genders that other humanoids have despite the inconclusive evidence of sexual dimorphism. While others are free to write them otherwise in their stories, for the purposes of Alyosha Strannik, while he has no attraction to humanoids since his species is so different, other than his nonresponse to humanoid sexual advances, please treat him as male in the traditional understanding of the term.
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Telepathic analyses of the being revealed that its mind was at least partially artificial in composition yet the artificial portions of the brain appeared to be modelled after humanoids, it would be hard to guess, but despite having just discovered warp-flight the beings race had advanced understanding of cybernetics and biotechnology, and the artificial portions of its brain were designed to allow it to emulate human behavior better, almost like a computer emulating another operating system. no clear gender identity could be determined from close examination.
"So far, I am quite impress by what I have seen, your starships are much larger, and your artificial gravity is awe inspiring"
He noted that XikJal had provided a name, but no gender. He wondered if that meant the question was taboo, or if the concept was simply so alien that either the being had no gender at all, if XikJal's species had more than two, or if the species was even one of those where the individual's gender changed over the course of the lifetime. If XikJal said nothing, though, these questions would be best left to Starfleet Medical to answer. Such discussions might be culturally inappropriate--not just for the alien, but also not fitting in his own culture for a public venue like the Captain's Table.
Captain Strannik instead turned his attention back to XikJal's reply. "Thanks. And yes," the human-disguised Devidian replied with much less hesitancy than he might have at the Academy when it was considered rather passe to refer to Starfleet as though it might actually go into battle, "Starfleet is the Federation's military. We also carry out exploration and research missions, but the political situation in the quadrant has required that we place our priorities on defense of ourselves and our allies. Our role as a military may be more true now than it has been for centuries. But again...that's for defensive purposes, not for expansionism.
"As an organization, Starfleet does have a unique, shared culture, thanks to our training, and the fact that we live and fight alongside each other. The Federation--to an extent--does as well, especially the humanoid species, since there are so many with such great similarities. But there are still cultural variations between planets, or even regions on some worlds."
Alyosha glanced at the other Starfleet officers in the room. "Maybe the others here would like to share their perspectives."
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Elessedil ponders the question for a moment, and he reaches a mental stop as he nods his head and switches his eyes from XikJal to Strannik, and back again.
I agree with Captain Strannik. Exploration and research have always been the focus of Starfleet, and the Federation as a whole. Defence is only applied in times of war, or if the occasional pirate brigand comes to the outer colonies. In the sense of gaining territory, governments who wish to ally themselves with the Federation, or even become a full member of, will expand the borders of which the Federation can operate.
Looking over the last sentence, it seems that it could be inferred that the Federation integrate species into their own gov't. Eleesedil searches for the right words to keep that from happening.
O-of course, when applying as a Federation member, it's to be kept note that the original government and its laws are not superseded by the Federation's standards. The charter is more along the lines of... an extension to the local politics.
"What my esteemed colleagues have said is correct. Those who join the Federation do so of their own volition; even then, it takes a grueling process before a potential applicant can join the Federation, or even Starfleet," he said.
Lee signals for a case of Trixian bubble juice to be beamed back to his ship before leaning at the bar next to Captain Iori. He took a swig of bubble juice before continuing.
"Not that to say the Federation is perfect or Starfleet is infallible. Our commitment to mutual cooperation is seen as weakness in the eyes of many of the species that border the Federation, while other galactic powers see the Federation as an obstacle in consolidating their own ambitions at the costs of anyone caught in the crossfire. The actions that Starfleet officers take in the service of the Federation are bound by the Prime Directive, but even if we bend it in the course of a mission, we make sure that the safety of Federation citizens is as paramount as our commitment to broaden our horizons. If you want to learn more, I can tell you more about combating Federation enemies later," he added.
Finishing his bottle, Lee switches out the surveillance device he left behind for a new one before beaming out with the rest of the bubble juice stocks.
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Arkos Nair noticed the brewing conversation as he walked into the Captain's lounge-- a Human Vice Admiral and a Captain were having a scintillating discussion with some sort of omnipedal cyberreptilian. He figured he would leave the diplomatic discussion to more experienced hands as he headed over to the bar. Right now, he just wanted to forget about his troubles over a glass of something suitably alcoholic and mind-numbing.
"Saurian brandy, with ice," he ordered.
A waitress approaches him, a PADD in hand, and an inquisitive expression on her face.
"Stolichnaya," he says. "A tall glass."
Moments later, the waitress returns with the glass, which I'sH'd accepts with a press of his thumb against her PADD. As she turns and walks away, I'sH'd slips a flattened flask from a pocket within his black leather jacket, and pours some of the contents into the glass of vodka, turning it a vivid green.
Sipping his drink, I'sH'd observes the political discussion, considering how Federation contact had changed the political landscape of Pentaxia, and how different the officers of the day appeared in comparison to historical records he had read about Fleet Captain Garth.
His Chameloid reflection looked back at him yearning to assume its natural form. His lip trembled as he struggled to remain composed. "So what will it be stranger..?" a voice broke through the silence, "You don't seem to be from around these parts."
Clearing his throat, I'azraank's orange eyes crept slowly upwards as he beheld a stocky, grinning human behind the bar, cleaning a glass with a cloth draped across his shoulder.
"Apologies, did not mean to interrupt you." the barman smiled.
"But, if you don't mind me saying, I've seen that look a thousand times." I'azraank only nodded, his head tilted in bewilderment. What is it that makes them smile?
Had that blonde, human-looking man just ordered an entire glass of Stoli?! Was he planning to down it all at once? Either they were about to have a very unruly drunk on their hands, or a serious case of alcohol poisoning.
Alexei Ivanovich had no sense of smell with which to judge whether the drinks being served in this place were real or synthehol, but most name-brand manufacturers tended to look quite unkindly on "synthed" versions of their drinks--theirs or the knock-offs found outside of Federation space--being marketed wiithout clear indication that they were synthehol. The bartender was human; he would certainly know that. And what he poured and sent back with the waitress sure did look like it came from a bottle of the real thing.
Then, to top it off--literally--the visitor pulled out a flask of who knew what kind of contraband and poured it into the glass...the glass!...with the vodka. What was that? Romulan ale? Something else?
He regarded XikJal with regret. "Forgive me...but I'm afraid one of our other guests may be about to make himself sick." Perhaps he could talk the man out of his singularly bad idea before that...or a dozen other ugly possibilities he'd seen result from humanoid drinking came to pass. "I'd definitely like to come chat with you some more as soon as I get the chance."
As he moved closer to the unknown visitor, he heard that electronic noise again--but stronger this time. His eyes narrowed. And he found...a surveillance device?! "And just who feels the need to monitor our private conversations?" he grumbled to himself.
He knew a thing or two about jamming sensors and other devices; he had to do so himself outside of Starfleet facilities, in order to keep them from recognizing his Devidian nature. He didn't have the equipment to set up a false feed here--only his tricorder, but that at least gave him enough to jam the signal.
He tapped a covert text message into his tricorder, sending it to Admiral Elessedil. <<I have just located and neutralized a listening device attached underneath one of the tables.>> He indicated the coordinates. <<Recommend you keep an eye out, sir. If they're monitoring live, whoever set the device will be coming soon to find out why they've lost their feed. Maybe we'll catch a spy. I'll be watching.>> And with photoreceptors covering his entire body, even if he had his back turned, that would be true.
For now, though, he approached the guest with the outrageous drinking habits...
And he realized that, however much he'd looked it before, the man was no Scandinavian: the presence of claws betrayed something nonhuman about him.
How could Alyosha broach the question?
He started with a simple introduction. "I'm Alexei Ivanovich Strannik, captain of the U.S.S. Chin'toka." Perhaps, if this man had sufficient familiarity with where his drink came from, his name would be enough to suggest that Alyosha had knowledge enough to be concerned about this risky concoction and what it might do.
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"Ahd'r I'sH'd Sh'nN'rr Ma'Li'S'rn, Pentaxian militia," he said. "Security escort to Ambassador S'rR's Kane aboard the USS Valkyrie. Have a seat, Captain."
She blinked her double-eyelids and titled her head to the side. "Hmm..."
With some measure of satisfaction she nodded, and slowly made her with towards the noise.
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Elessedil doesn't send a reply. He just looks down, casually, at the coordinates set, and tries to passively sense motives about the visitors.
As a Devidian, Alyosha didn't speak in the same way as other beings--all of the actual work was done by a single organ recessed in what very roughly corresponded to the sinus cavities, and which functioned most like a computer's sound output. Once he had heard a sound--provided he fully heard all components of the sound, he could reproduce it as a complete waveform. The rest, while shapeshifted...the appearance of shaping the words with lips and tongue...was something he could pick up through his species' talent for mimicry.
It did not do, however, when one presented oneself to the world as human, to appear too perfect on the first try. The Pentaxian's inflections had suggested the first part was a rank. "Ahdyr..." He quickly 'tried' again, this time rendering the rank exactly as heard. "Ahd'r, it's a pleasure to meet you. Feel free to call me Alexei Ivanovich." He smiled. "Somehow I suspect that won't be as much trouble for you to say as it is for some."
Alyosha gestured at the Ahd'r's glass. "I've never seen that added to vodka before." As he spoke, he switched effortlessly between the accents of 'newscaster' American English and the Russian of St. Petersburg. "Is that intended to neutralize some of the alcoholic content?" He'd heard of such additives before, sometimes even used by delegations on away missions to partake where culturally required, without the risks of drunkenness and alcohol poisoning. But he'd never seen one that was green before.
And behind him, though he did not turn his head, Alyosha simultaneously watched to see if their spy would return...
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He paused, swirling the contents of his glass before taking a mouthful.
"Actually, the vodka is the diluting agent... This is k'lrr liqueur. I would offer to share it, but its alcohol content is simply toxic to most other species." I'sH'd chuckled momentarily. "I once saw a Klingon drink a cupful, bark something I couldn't understand, then pass out and soil himself. His shipmates found it rather amusing...
"We Pentaxians have a considerably more efficient system of blood filtration than most species, the alcohol in this glass, is no worse for me than, is the Human expression 'Cigarettes and Brandy'? It was actually the lounge hostess aboard the Valkyrie who suggested the mix to me -- the vodka increases the viscosity of the liqueur, gives it more texture, without compromising the flavor."
I'sH'd pondered a moment, before taking another sip of his beverage.
"I believe you made first contact with the Mu'Naii?" he proposed. "The Valkyrie visited the planet recently to repatriate a stranded officer."
Alyosha couldn't help a bit of surprise--reflected in the expression of an upraised eyebrow--at I'sH'd's description of "cigarettes and brandy." Sounds like killing yourself slowly over the years instead of in one fell swoop, he thought to himself. Considering there was only one form of nourishment...though artificial...that he could take, the idea of putting dangerous substances into the body to cause intoxication and other altered states was utterly foreign to him--and resulted in a series of increasingly ridiculous mental images as to how such a thing could even be accomplished with his underlying physiology. Stupidity, he concluded. All of it.
Then the conversation turned to the Mu'Naii. That wasn't a pleasant memory, and despite himself, he reflected his disdain outwardly.
"I can't imagine that was an easy task," he said. "And I pity the poor officer who got stranded there. With some of the things I saw on my visit--and other things I suspected but never did see--I would not be at all surprised if they were the type of people who tortured their prisoners. Or just locked them away to die. Did your officer make it?"
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"The boy was resourceful and made himself a shank for protection. He endured the experience and needed only a clean uniform and a hot meal before he returned to duty," he replied. " I presume you recall Premiere Yurass? Would you believe that he tried to simply return a crashed fighter without its pilot? If the Ambassador hadn't picked up the Ensign's distress beacon, he would still be rotting in their prison for crimes against agriculture! On a more satisfactory note, she arranged for Yurass to attend a diplomatic audience with the Empress -- I would give the ashes of my father to be witness to that meeting..."
He raised his half-full glass.
"To the Empress Ch'K'rr, and the wisdom of her judgements..."
If Elessedil were to try to sense Arkos' motives as he took a sip from his brandy, he would sense nothing ulterior about the man- he practically wore his emotions on his sleeve. As much as Arkos was trying to maintain a look of aloof professionalism, it was clear that he was in a less-than-celebratory mood.