Chance Meeting

Posted on 09 Mar 2024 @ 11:40am by Lieutenant JG Serran & Petty Officer 1st Class Lysander Octavio
Edited on on 09 Mar 2024 @ 3:37pm

2,210 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: Episode 19 - Tomorrow's Galileo
Location: USS Galileo-A - Deck 7, Gym
Timeline: MD 02, 0445

[ON]

It was early, about 0445 when Serran crawled out of his bed and walked into the bathroom. After relieving himself and shaving, he headed toward the ship's gym. There was so much going on of late, he just needed to burn off some energy, and one of the best ways to do that was to spend time in the gym At this hour there should be no one, or at least very few people in.

When he walked in, the gym was deserted. He took off his shirt leaving it on a weight bench. Then he went to a bar used for chin-ups hooked his heels inside and started pulling himself up toward the ceiling. He was on his second set of reps when he heard the door slide open.

It had been a trying start to his time aboard the Galileo. When the admiralty had recommended this posting as his pièce de résistance, the final mission before he could settle into fame and fortune, he had expected it to be a Kirk-esque swashbuckling romp across strange new worlds, basking in the adoration of aliens and adding a few more holonovels to his repertoire. Instead, he had found himself in a pokey little ship, flung forward in time without a clue (or admittedly much interest in) what was going on.

This morning had begun at the usual time, bright and early to ensure he looked on point for his duty. His father had always told him that looking right was half the battle, and it had served him oh so well throughout his career. He carefully coiffed his hair, applied copious face cream and just a little makeup, to accent the finer details of his handsome visage, then departed for the gym. Most people would not bother going to such efforts before exercise, maybe they would argue it was counterintuitive, but Lysander Octavio was not most people. He was just built differently.

The gym had always been a big part of his routine. Appearances were everything, and people expected a certain amount of... definition from a security officer. He would hate to disappoint.

As he walked into the gym on this particular morning it became clear that he was not alone. Someone was doing inverted pull-ups. A... Vulcan, possibly? The ears were certainly indicative but the hair... most unusual. They had certainly worked on their figure a great deal. He had not seen this person around but they were one of the more eye-catching people aboard he had to admit. Present company excluded of course.

Lysander stood and watched for a few moments, then wandered closer, he cocked his head sideways and broke the relative hush, "Good morning!" He said with his signature dashing smile, "I do not believe we have been acquainted?"

Unlike his counterpart, who had put a great deal of care and effort into his morning routine, Serran did not look good at all. Or at least he didn't look as well well put together.

Not only had he not put on any beauty products, he'd not showered since the night before, and if he'd been human he would no doubt have been sweating.

From his current perspective, upside down, the man hovering above him looked attractive and vaguely reminded him of Finn, which he wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

He pulled himself upright then, more or less, gracefully fell to the ground landing upright on his feet.

"I'm Serran, the Operations Manager. It is agreeable to meet you. Good morning." Then in Terran fashion, he held out his hand.

Lysander eyed the extended hand, he had never really understood the human greeting. It seemed very... stilted. Nonetheless, he placed his hand in the Vulcan's grasp and shook it firmly. "Charmed, I'm sure," he said in his lyrical accent, "Lysander Octavio, Security."

He stepped back after the handshake was complete, his smile gleaming, "Are you a fellow newcomer? I must say I have not seen you around in all of the rush."

"I am," Serran agreed I have not seen you before either. I'm still getting adjusted. I think I was kind of a last-minute addition. What about you?"

"Oh," he ran a hand through his beautiful hair, "I was consulting for the admiralty for a time and it was suggested to me that I might lend my expertise to this particular vessel," he smiled widely, "I was quite surprised at how... quaint it was when I arrived but, as I understand it, it is a ship that punches above its weight when it comes to getting into... escapades."

He glanced at Serran's physique, "I must admit I rarely bump into Vulcans at the gym..."

Serran was used to keeping an impassive expression, so when the man spoke about consulting the admiralty, he was able to maintain a neutral expression, even though he highly doubted that the man's account was accurate.

He didn't mind what he considered to be exaggerations at best. Perhaps because of Lysander's looks, his personality, or perhaps both, he found the words both harmless and endearing.

He noticed the other man's eyes on his body but felt it wasn't logical to assume anything because of it.

"I am just your typical Vulcan. Mostly." He pointed to his hair. "But there are differences among every species and I am no exception. I find it easier to focus and keep my emotions under control by physical exertion. Besides, I know this may not be a typical Vulcan, I like the way it makes me look."

"As far as the ship punching above its weight class is concerned, I agree with that and hope I can be a small part of that happening."

Lysander raised an eyebrow, "Physical exertion clearly suits you, and if you like having... appealing musculature then well I suppose that it is all rather 'logical'." He laughed musically, "What do other Vulcans think? I was under the impression they had," he swept an arm up dramatically, "transcended such things."

"Frankly, I am unconcerned with what other Vulcans would say. However, I think there is a Vulcan proverb that states 'infinite diversity in infinite combinations' so I think that most would be okay with it.

As far as transcending such things, well perhaps I am just more honest than some other members of my species."

"But I am more interested in the first part of your query. You find my musculature appealing? Would you care to elaborate?"

"I am an aesthete, Serran. It would not do for me to deny your fine figure," Lysander made a small show of taking in the Vulcan's form, "My family dealt in art. I am used to typically being surrounded by things of beauty," he ran his fingers through his carefully styled hair. He was one such thing. "Amidst the dull grey interiors of a Starfleet vessel, it is... pleasant to visit the gym and meet someone who projects the finer side of the Vulcanoid form."

"Well," Serran deadpanned, "I have not had the opportunity to observe your physique, but you do represent the human race when it comes to appearances.

Lysander gracefully gestured to his eyes, "Oh I far exceed the 'human race'," he laughed lightly, "I am Betazoid. The eyes usually give it away."

He shifted to pose for Serran, pushing his chest out and his chin up. It was perfectly heroic. "I cut a fine figure, I would say," he continued to smile widely in his usual charming way, "Though there is always room for improvement. Hence my morning here."

If he had been quick enough, Lysander would have noticed the corners of Serran's lips turning up, before his expression returned to its natural neutral state.

"You're right," the Vulcan said, "your eyes do give it away. The issue is I wasn't focusing on your eyes."

Lysander's laugh bounced around the gym, his eyes glinting, "Understandable, I am a very fine specimen. It cannot be denied." He couldn't blame Sorren really, he knew he was beautiful. In fact, he rather liked having eyes on him, it was the correct and proper state of things.

He ran a hand through his perfect hair, "I am going to run now, you are welcome to join me." With that, he wandered over to a treadmill and began running at an even pace.

"You do know," Serran said as he climbed on the treadmill beside the Betazoid, "Vulcans have superior stamina and strength over most other humanoid species. Do Betazoids gamble? More precisely, do you gamble?"

"It depends," Lysander glanced at the vulcan with a glint in his eye, "What is the wager? I have been known to bet on myself," he laughed lightly as he began to run.

"Whoever can stay on the treadmill the longest takes the other out for dinner. Possibly a date if both agree. Is that something you would bet on?"

Lysander's musical laugh bounced off the gym walls. How curious that a Vulcan would wish to take him to dinner. He grinned widely, "Very well. I will take your wager." He lightly tapped the console and slowed the treadmill to a walking pace, and strode along confidently next to Serran.

The aforementioned Vulcan kept his expression deadpan, though it was difficult to know what he was thinking inwardly as he started the treadmill. First, he matched the speed, then he began to advance it.

Walking was fine for Lysander. He strolled along, glancing at the Vulcan as he sped up with a look of amusement, "Trying to impress me hm? Slow and steady wins the race," he said with a laugh.

"I am familiar with that Terran statement," Seran replied as he increased his speed again. "However, it does not test our stamina."

Lysander glanced at Serren and continued to smile as he walked, "How fast would you have to go for it to become a test I wonder?"

Serran tapped into the console and his machine sped up. He also increased the angle. "I'm not sure exactly, but this is a start."

Smiling, Lysander kept going with his brisk walk, "I am quite curious about the limits of vulcan endurance," he mused, "Is the advantage purely biological, or is it due to your own
training regimen?"

"Well," Serran deadpanned, "Vulcans are known for their endurance in a variety of endeavors. But, in this case..."

He increased the pitch, but not the speed on his treadmill, "But in this case, I think it's more my training. I've been running for a long time. I find it relaxing."

Lysander shrugged, "I prefer to walk, though running has a certain appeal," he glanced at Serran, "It gives the guise of a..." He smiled and raised an eyebrow, "...man of action. Urgency is rather magnetic."

There was a flash of a smile before it disappeared replaced by the Vulcan's typical stoic expression. Please, elaborate on your thoughts," he invited before he increased the pitch again.

"Visual displays of athleticism..." Lysander mused, his voice carrying a faux philosophical tone, "... command attention. I am someone who respects the type that can draw an eye." He glanced over at Serran, "You are privileged in that you have caught my attention. Your athleticism is... noteworthy."

"That's not all that is noteworthy about me," the Vulcan said, immediately regretting his words and the flirtatious tone behind them. But they were out now and he couldn't take them back.

Lysander's laughed thrilled around the gym as he walked, "Well, pray tell. What is so noteworthy?"

Serran wasn't truly used to flirting. He hadn't been good at it at the academy when he was single, and while he picked up a few pointers from Finn but he still lacked experience.

He was in other words in over his head and debated within himself whether he should continue. He almost decided to just end this whole interaction, but he couldn't do that.

"For one," he said, again not believing he was about to say what he was about to say, "I am among other things, an excellent kisser."

"A very curious brag for a Vulcan," Lysander responded with amusement. Then, with a slight smirk, Lysander tapped the controls in front of him, bringing the treadmill to a halt. "Looks like you win," he raised an eyebrow, "Let me know when you'd like to go out."

Serran stopped his machine as well. "I will contact you. Shortly. I feel however that I should apologize. I'm not very good at flirting and I really should not have commented on my being a good kisser. True or not it was the wrong thing to say at the wrong time."

Lysander ran a hand through his perfect hair, "One should be proud of their fine attributes," he said with his usual wide smile, "I will await your call." He winked and then wandered towards the door.

Serran turned back to the machine, or at least he wanted to. But, he couldn't help himself, he watched the retreating figure with the ghost of what might have been a smile.

[OFF]

--

PO1 Lysander Octavio
Security Officer
USS Galileo-A
[PNPC Vala]

&

Lt(jg) Serran
Operations Manager
USS Galileo-A

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