Strangers in the Night

Posted on 31 Mar 2015 @ 12:15am by Seleya Qellar Ph.D. & Chief Warrant Officer 2 Oliver Sylver

1,791 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Episode 08 - NIMBUS
Location: USS Galileo - Deck 3, Auxiliary Shuttlebay
Timeline: MD-02, 23:10

[ ON ]

Seleya's high-heels hit the deck plating with a very hollow and satisfying sound, muffled by the thin liner of material she'd applied to them earlier. In some cases the loud clack of shoes projected one's presence and authority nicely and served a purpose. But on a..."discrete tour"...of certain portions of the ship, they were a hindrance, especially in the quiet of Gamma shift. It may have been her imagination but that shift always seemed the least populated and many portions of the ship were dimmed. She was certain that deeply meddlesome Lieutenant Benice was tracking her movements anyway, but at least she was somewhat freer to explore the ship than if she were wandering about during Alpha or Beta shifts. At the very least, there were far fewer of the ship's annoyingly talkative crewmembers up and about, stopping every person they saw for a friendly chat about their duties or whatever other drivel ran through their empty heads.

As she slipped into the auxiliary shuttlebay, she was pleased to find that the lights were, in fact, dimmed. They gave an otherworldly glow to the ship's Polaris-class transport, which made it seem almost mesmerizing. Without bothering to check more closely on the room's potential occupants, she set out slowly across the deck toward the transport, drawn by curiosity.

"You break it, you buy it," a voice said lightly, playfully even. Oliver Sylver grinned as he sat on some crates, clearly with some spare parts or cargo that had been pulled out post-inspection from whatever hiding place they had. He had removed the uniform jacket at some point...he had been going over shuttles. A habit from the Marines, making more work for himself. It didn't matter. He liked keeping busy. But now he was on his break, so he had grabbed himself a hot drink.

Still, Oliver watched the Romulan with interest and curiosity. Honest curiosity, since he wasn't a man to judge people. Not with where he came from or what he did in his life.

To her credit, Seleya didn't jump or cry out, though she was definitely startled. Living in the Federation was evidently making her soft and complacent; five years ago, she'd have never allowed herself to be so careless as to brazenly walk into a room like that.

"I suppose I should be grateful for my vast fortune then, hm?" Seleya said, turning toward the source of the voice. She was still dressed in the lavender skirt suit of heavy jacquard material from her excursion to the arboretum, paired with matching wide-brimmed hat, all of which seemed just as out of place at this hour and place as she did herself. "Just in case."

"Indeed," he said and pushed himself up, standing out of respect for the well-dressed woman. "Saying that, I always think Starfleet must be insured. Some Ferengi venture where they get Klingons to shake people upside down to get some platinum..." he winked, moving to her. "Staff Warrant Officer Oliver Sylver, at your service, ma'am."

"I'll consider myself lucky; Klingons don't like to touch Romulans. Something about us being dishonorable peta'Q or whatever primitive, guttural nonsense they've assigned to us this week. You know, it's really a wonder we even classify it as a language," Seleya said, drawing close enough to the transport to run a finger along its hull. She moved her eyes away from the small ship to glance at Oliver then looked back at the hull as if there was something incredibly interesting there. After a long moment of inspection, she finally spoke, "Pleased to meet you, Chief Sylver. I'm Dr. Seleya Qellar."

He smiled warmly, nodding at the words. "My pleasure, Dr Qellar," he said softly, looking at the transport. "She is a beauty, isn't she? I mostly do ship flying, but this girl handles beautifully. Not as quick to go with your touch as a fighter, but she is still a joy to fly."

"Yes, quite beautiful," Seleya said, lifting her chin to admire the craft again but keeping watch on the flight control officer from the corner of her eye. "I don't know very much about spaceflight, I'm afraid. Or, nothing more than atmospheric flight, at least. Are they difficult to pilot, this class?"

"Not especially," he admitted with a small smile. "Hell, nowadays everything's set up so even a trained monkey could do it..." he stopped and looked at her. "Or I suppose any other lower form of humanoid life. It's simple to fly, difficult to fly well."

"Hmm, interesting," Seleya said, sounding a bit distracted, like she was lost in her own thoughts. "Is it part of the ship's evacuation protocols? I imagine you could fit many more crewmen on a transport of this size than you could in an escape pod. Or does it require a lengthy pre-flight sequence?"

He looked at her before chuckling, shaking his head. "I'd use her. You can skip most pre-flight things, you know. Start her, check fuel, open doors and out sort of thing. Not sure if it is part of the evacuation though. That's...not something I've tested."

"That is quite interesting, indeed," Seleya said, mostly to herself. She continued to admire the contours of the transport as she set off to resume her walk around it, assuming he would follow her. Easy to fly, not necessary on the evacuation protocol... The wheels of her paranoia turned endlessly as she calculated the distance from most points on the ship to the shuttlebay, the amount of time it might take to bring its systems online, what security protocols might be in place to prevent unauthorized access to the vessel. On a Romulan ship, this sort of thing would be on an extreme lockdown, not necessarily because people were often making a run for it but because the Tal Shiar prepared for everything. "Is this your ship? Or do the pilots on this vessel claim one as their own? I was once transported to an agricultural conference on a Ar'kif-class warbird that had a fighter group. The pilots were very...curious...in their attachment to their fighters."

"She's not mine," Oliver sounded almost sad as he said it. "I used to be a fighter pilot, no one got to touch my girl. But this bird? She's everyone's...I do what flying I get assigned to, it all differs nowadays." He watched her, smiling gently as he watched her, studying her face. "Are you alright, ma'am?"

"Yes, I'm quite fine," Seleya said, sounding firm, as if she had no interest in pursuing a line of questioning about herself. She was accustomed to doing the questioning, and, in her experience, if you gave someone the slightest bit of leeway in asking them in return then you would find you no longer had control of the conversation. "May I inquire as to how a Starfleet fighter pilot ends up on a scientific research vessel? This hardly seems like an illustrious posting for someone in your line of work, Chief Sylver."

He chuckled as he watched her, patiently. He could see he was being guided. He didn't mind, it wasn't any skin off his nose. "I like a quiet life, ma'am. I've seen war. As long as I can fly, I am happy to be anywhere. Quiet science ship is good for my soul. Besides, the Galileo holds something that is more dear to me than the entire universe."

"I can't even fathom... Your family?"

"I'm an orphan, so no family. No, it's...I suppose boyfriend is a good word, but it is early days," Oliver said and smiled warmly, holding her eyes for a moment.

Seleya tried to control the look of surprise on her face at the admission of being an orphan - family and family honor were such an important part of Romulan society that no one would ever dare to admit to being adopted. She managed to evolve the surprise into something closer to pleasant surprise, as if she were truly happy for him and his relationship. "Really? What wonderful news! May I inquire as to who this mystery man is? I don't know the crew exceedingly well, but I would want to pass along my well wishes."

"Verity Thorne," Oliver spoke easily, grinning with shining eyes. "Chaplain. It's...it's new, so don't spread it..." he added, suddenly blushing. He wasn't ashamed. He hoped Verity wasn't.

"Yes, Chaplain Thorne," Seleya mumbled, making a show of trying to recall his face. It was almost immediate, but she'd found it never served her well to be too quick with things. It made people suspicious. "Yes, I believe I remember him from...something... Some social function, maybe. Strong jawline, larger eyes, yes? Quite an attractive choice for a potential mate."

"He is," Oliver's face shone with the warmth of his emotions and he nodded, watching her. "What about you? Classy lady like yourself...must have offers."

"Sorry, offers?" Seleya asked, pulled out of her own thoughts. She looked genuinely confused for half a moment and then her face relaxed. She even let out a small, amused laugh. "Oh, offers. I see my reputation has not yet arrived in the shuttlebays. There are no offers, Chief Sylver, because we are not entertaining offers at this time." She had something of a smug, self-satisfied look on her face, making it clear she was very pleased with the content of her response. "Romantic...entanglements...are distracting, bothersome, and absolutely laden with cultural rites and traditions and all manner of other nonsense. Besides, I haven't met a woman yet who could actually keep up with me, and I tend to find virtually all men entirely boorish." She looked off into the distance but turned her head back quickly, offering an apologetic but insincere smile. "Present company excluded, of course."

He watched her before laughing, nodding at the words. "No, men can be boorish. I would not date myself either," he winked as he pulled back, taking a breath. "I should leave you be though. I got to go through some reports..." he rolled his eyes, clearly not happy about that part of his job...but like most tasks, he just did it.

"Yes, the Federation does love its reports, does it not?" Seleya said, already turning away from him. She passed around the side of the transport to vanish out of sight but made sure to raise her voice loudly enough to be heard, "I'll just see myself out."

[ OFF ]

Seleya Qellar, Ph.D.
Biotechnologist
USS Galileo
[ PNPC - Mott ]

&


Chief Warrant Officer 2 Oliver Sylver
Flight Control
USS Galileo
[ PNPC - Devin ]

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