Welsh Rarebit

Posted on 11 Sep 2015 @ 10:22am by Petty Officer 1st Class Taliesin Cynwrig & Cadwyn Lane
Edited on on 18 Sep 2015 @ 11:20pm

1,621 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Episode 09 - Empires
Location: USS Galileo - Deck Two, Mess Hall
Timeline: MD 2, 1052 hours

ON:

On such a small, battered ship, Cadwyn's movements were limited. He wasn't at the point of regretting his decision to join Norvi on the Galileo, but his standing as a civilian meant that his restrictions were even more restricted. He no longer had the liberty of standing on the holodeck, the artificial vista rolling on before him to calm his undiagnosed claustrophobia. For now he had his quarters, the Mess and the arboretum. And with the latter he'd spent far too much time in it already.

So, he took the small walk to the Mess, ordered a coffee and sat by the large window to look out upon the vastness of space.

"Ti'n goc oen!" The rude comment sounded a bit loudly from nearby, followed by the clatter of a PADD tossed hard to a table. Thankfully, the Universal Translators often seemed to be a little slow around Taliesin, even when speaking languages it should know. The man had raised fingers to his temples and rubbed hard, looking like the beginnings of a headache was coming in. "I don't believe it," he continued to grouse outloud.

At the Welsh profanity, Cadwyn's ears pricked up rather quickly. It had been years since he'd heard his own mother-tongue and with such a dying language, it was odd enough to witness its utterance in any modern-day setting, least of all halfway across the galaxy. He furrowed his brow and took another sip of his coffee. Lamb's cock? he amused himself with. Of all the insults. In truth, Cadwyn's knowledge of the Welsh language was limited, and like most people his age, limited to the vulgar. He smiled and then decided to walk over to the man with a down-turned smile. "What was - uh - that you said, sir?" he asked cordially.

At the voice at his side, Taliesin looked up from where he'd been glaring death down on the PADD, narrowed his eyes slightly at the one who had spoken. The man - if he could call him that, this fair-haired and skinned figure looked much like a boy if one ignored his towering height - wasn't one he recognised but Taliesin had only been on board since the reshuffling of personnel during the war games. "I was making an observation on the fdanchin idiots who run Federation penal systems," he said, this time using a term he'd picked up from a Zeppolite smuggler.

No matter how many times someone mentioned the word 'penal', or how old Cadwyn became, he still couldn't help but to stifle a smirk. He widened his eyes once he'd gotten control of himself and and then cocked his head, allowing a renewed and leveled interest in what the man had said. "I'm not entirely sure what you're referring to," he said, blinking a few times. "But I did notice that you spoke Welsh. Or a form of Gaelic. I'm Cadwyn. Lamb cock to the core."

Hearing that the young man had understood him, hearing the Welsh name, Taliesin actually smiled. He stood up from his seat and held out a hand, even laughed slightly at the joke, "Never expected I'd meet another way out here...wherever we are. Cymraeg ie. Taliesin, ac neis cwrdd ti, Cadwyn. Wish I could say I've actually been to Wales." Though he had never set foot on Earth or been to Wales himself, he'd been raised by a father who had taken deep pride in their heritage and tried to teach his son all he knew, including the nearly-dead language. He gestured at the table, "Join me for a drink, mate? I'd be glad for the company."

Cadwyn smiled his reply and then pulled the chair out from underneath the table before plopping himself down on it. "Never stepped foot on home soil," Cadwyn tutted, shaking his head in a mock disapproving gesture. He raised both eyebrows and added, "You're missing out."

Taliesin flashed a brief smile, and returned to his chair, "I suppose a holodeck doesn't count, either. Were you raised there yourself? I wouldn't mind hearing more about it." Taliesin had missed that quite a lot after his father died, listening to stories passed down verbally throughout the ages about the country and its people. "What are you having, anyways? Another coffee?"

"Perhaps something a bit stronger," Cadwyn replied with a muted smile. "There's only so much coffee you can drink in a crisis." He paused and then went back to the earlier question of their shared roots. "I was born and raised on the green, green grass of those Welsh valleys and no matter how far you move away from them, you can still feel the pull of their beauty in your blood. How come you never visited?"

"Right," Taliesin agreed with about the drinks and quickly stood once again to speak with the replicator. It might just be a little bit early, but it would be synthehol anyways. After a moment he returned, setting down two mugs of replicated bitters. He could hear the pride in the other man's voice describing his home, and Taliesin raised his drink in salute of it before taking a gulp. "I suppose I never got around to it. Always busy, some thief to catch or smuggling ring to expose. I'd meant to go a number of times, to see if I could track down other family maybe, but it always kept getting pushed back." He waved vaguely at the PADD, "That's what I'd been cursing about anyways. One of smugglers that it took me months to gather enough evidence on to see them convicted is being released according to that news report."

"And there's nothing that you can do to prevent his release?" Cadwyn now leant forward. He was fascinated about such stories and had forgotten that, outside of his simple life in Wales and now Trill that such excitement existed. His eyes widened as he took the drink but he kept them fixed on his compatriot. "What is it that you actually do here?"

Taliesin shook his head, "Even if I could have made it to the hearing, I don't think it would have mattered. It's got the Orion Syndicate's fingers all over it." He sighed and took a sip of his drink, and eyed the eager young man over the rim of his glass. "I'm the new Master at Arms here, but used to be law enforcement. Ever been to the Jaradan Sector? The Toshvot Trading Station?"

"Can't say that I have," Cadwyn replied as he took a sip. "From back 'ome to Trill. Not seen much of the quadrant in between, if I'm honest. I assume that it's not a place to go on your holidays."

"It's not so bad," Taliesin replied, though he wondered if it was the truth. There was a lot of crime after all. Smugglers, thieves, murderers. Yeah, now that he thought of it, maybe not the greatest sector around. There were some pretty hot alien dudes though. "I mean, it doesn't have anything to hold a candle to Risa or Earth. I haven't seen much either to be honest. So, what brings you to the Galileo?"

"The commander," Cadwyn replied as if he'd been asked the question a thousand times, which, in fact, he felt like he had. But he knew that on such small ships new faces were a rarity and often came with a story. "Stace that is. I'm a friend of the family's on Trill."

"Ah, haven't had the pleasure," Taliesin said. "That has to be nice, knowing someone here. I go where they send me, and here I am." He turned a momentary glare at the PADD in his hand that he didn't remember picking up. The way his knuckles were straining, they might both see whether or not he could break it with his bare hands. Taliesin relaxed, his temper wouldn't make for good conversation. Not unless he was trying to beat something out of a prisoner. That might be fun. "Been a few places so far. Mostly ships on the Klingon frontier. This is the first time I've been on a research vessel though." He didn't mean for that to come so badly.

"Not a lot of crime here, then?" Cadwyn questioned, leaning in a little as he felt the frustration pouring from the man. "I suppose it's a similar situation to the one I feel. I'm used to rolling fields and woods and lakes, and now I'm tilling a bit of soil the size of my front room back in the lodge and without the freedom."

"Yes, I think you know what it feels like," Taliesin nodded. "Out of our element. But we'll have to adapt, I suppose, since it's not like the Galileo is about to turn a whole deck into an arboretum, or the crew will suddenly all become pickpockets." Glancing at the chronometer on the wall, Taliesin let out a sigh, finished off his replicated bitters, and then shrugged off the effects of the synthohol. Terrible stuff really, a man shouldn't be able to just decide they aren't inebriated.

"It's been a pleasure meeting you, Cadwyn," he said, obviously wrapping up. "I'd...like hearing more about Wales sometime, if you can spare a minute here and there. Our heritage was such a big deal to my father, and I suppose it is to me as well though I've never been."

"Any time," Cadwyn replied with a smile. "I'm not going anywhere for the foreseeable future."

[OFF]

PO1 Taliesin Cynwrig
Master-At-Arms
USS Galileo

AND

Cadwyn Lane
Gardener
USS Galileo
[PNPC - NORVI STACE]

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