The Beach; From the Depths (Part 3)

Posted on 09 Jan 2013 @ 12:40pm by Lieutenant Kiri Cho & Crewman Athlen

3,411 words; about a 17 minute read

Mission: Episode 02 - Resupply
Location: Vega Colony, Puam Digh
Timeline: MD9 1330

ON:

Once she had arrived, Maenad leaned up against the counter and took off her sunglasses. "I'd like a Tom Collins with plenty of ice," she said to the bartender. "Make it a double." Her drink was made after a minute and she took a long and refreshing sip, closing her eyes. She turned herself to lean on her back, staring down the beach out to sea. It dawned on her that there were no umbrellas at any of the tables around the bar, nor was there an awning large enough to keep the sun off. She could feel the skin on her white hands feeling too small for her, and she knew that it was already too late. She sighed and took another drink.

From the corner of the bar, the Vulcan diplomatic officer was staring at a clear glass tumbler filled with an odd black liquid in his hand with blank curiosity. "The man who served this to me continues to purport that it contains a black hole. I do not comprehend how this is possible." He showed her his tricorder. It did not contain a black hole of any sort.

Maenad turned to face the familiar voice of Mister Liyar. "I'm sorry, Mister Liyar. If I'd seen you I would have said hello," she set her drink on the bar and adjusted her hat, trying to keep the sun off her face. She took the Vulcan's tricorder and studied its readings, deciding to humour him. "You said there's a black hole in this?"

"As you can see, it is a physical impossibility." Liyar held up the glass, peering at it Very Seriously. "The man also indicated I am expected to drink this substance. While I am seriously in doubt of this individual's scientific qualification, it does not seem... safe," he settled on.

Maenad raised her eyebrows. She watched Liyar for a moment to make absolutely sure that he wasn't joking. She wore her best poker face, however, and decided that this was too much fun to pass up. Still with his tricorder in hand, she decided to run a scan of her own. "You're right," she said. "I'm detecting no spacial distortions, no tears in subspace. No gravimetric anomalies," she tapped a few commands into the tricorder. "No micro-fissures, either." As she closed the tricorder and handed it back to him, she leaned closer to the drink to study it through the glass. "Peculiar that it should move with the glass. A black hole is static," she looked up at him with her eyes, still leaning over.

"Indeed. I do not understand what has caused him to draw this conclusion," Liyar started. "I had assumed his inexperience led him to misinterpret a common anomaly," the Vulcan explained gravely, taking the tricorder back. Her joking mannerisms completely flew over his head. "This does not seem to be so."

Maenad stood upright again and took the glass from him, holding it up to her eyes. She held it under her nose and sniffed it, still watching the Vulcan for any sign of tricks. She took a small sip, smacked her lips as she considered its taste. Another sip, bigger this time. "Well, he can't be lying," she said, stopping herself from smiling. "All the good taste in this thing has been lost."

Liyar had the faint sensation that he was missing something. He did not, however, miss the unmistakable undercurrent of amusement that welled up from around them as he focused on paying attention to his environment. Then it was... a joke. "Perhaps I have failed to account for cultural discrepancy," he said again, with barely discernible dryness. An outward laugh from his side definitely confirmed that.

Maenad frowned at him, picked up her drink and took big sip. "No," she insisted. "You didn't miss the joke, Mister Liyar. I think it's just the name of the drink."

"I see," he replied, poking the offending beverage over to the other side of the bar where the man could collect it. Hopefully. The man was very adamant that he should drink it, but he found that idea vaguely repugnant. "You are unsuited for this environment," he commented, noting the degree of burning on her exposed skin, which took on a distinctly more red pattern than her counterparts. Then there was the fact that she'd all but stomped over in indignant rage, but that was an apparently common state for her... So he wasn't really sure it was relevant.

"Thank you," Maenad nodded to the Vulcan. "I am glad that somebody finally agrees with me, that I'm unsuited for this environment." She took a long sip from her drink, allowing an ice cube to slide into her mouth. "Is it really that bad? Already?" she faced Liyar, pulling her hat down further.

"Affirmative," Liyar told her, blunt as always. "You did not procure," he paused for a minute before thinking of the right term, "A radiation prophylactic?" Sunscreen apparently hadn't come to him.

"The word you're looking for is sunblock," she said to him with a flatness fit for a Vulcan. "And, yes, I did procure myself some of it," she took another drink and crunched another icecube. "Two or three layers of it," she sighed. "It never works, Mister Liyar. That's why I'm wearing this ridiculous hat," she watched him from behind her sunglasses and thought how much more ridiculous it would look on Liyar's head.

"They did not have less..." and there really wasn't another word for it, "Ridiculous hats, I assume." It could be easy to miss the dryness of his words indicating his own attempt at a joke.

Maenad tilted her head, then took another drink. "It is my hat," she said with a bland-looking smile, slapping his shoulder gently with the back of her hand. "From my closet. But thank you, Mister Liyar."

Liyar tensed automatically at the contact, but nodded, arching an eyebrow silently in reprise. "So you say."

Maenad finished her drink and ordered another. "So, Mister Liyar, what were you doing here, anyway? To be honest, a bar is the last place I'd expect to find you."

"Mr. Kiwosk has asked me approximately eleven times to engage in a form of Terran recreation known as volley ball. As you say, a bar," he repeated the phrase with a tilt of his head, "Is not an ideal location in which to pursue me."

"So you came here to get out of a game of volleyball with Mister Kiwosk?" Maenad laughed and took a drink. "Bartender, give me another please," she returned her attention to Liyar. "I don't blame you." The bartender passed her the drink. "Here," she said to the Vulcan, "I think you will enjoy this better than your black hole."

Liyar looked at the beverage blankly, before picking it up and taking a small drink. Well... it wasn't awful (he imagines it is considerably better than the Black Hole). It was strange, though, to imbibe a substance that one expected to feel intoxicated from, but not feel the effects themselves. He got a brief mental image of attempting the reverse. Yon-savas naliveh would probably be a bad idea for any Terran. Hit with a sudden feeling of homesickness, he mused it was a pity Miri'kahr didn't export... Illogically, he wondered how the commission would take it if he opened up exports for no reason other than to obtain rare alcohol. Make the old Council battleaxes fidget, as Sarai Dahan once put it. Liyar downed the rest of the Tom Collins in one go, looking rather unaffected.

"Mister Liyar!" Maenad shrieked, but not in her usually furious way. This time it was impressed shock. She looked at her own glass that was still about half full. "You're supposed to enjoy it, not... that," she picked up her glass now and gave it a little dangling twirl from her wrist before drinking the whole thing too. She then looked to Liyar and set it down on the table louder than she had meant to. "Oh my god..." she mumbled, then turned back to the bartender and held up two fingers to him. He asked if they were doubles and she gave him a sloppy nod, still trying to admit to herself that Liyar had actually done that.

Meanwhile, the Vulcan barely blinked as another drink was set in front of him. They weren't half bad, in all honesty. "Have I done something incorrect?" He watched while she copied him, so he supposed it wasn't that big of a deal.

"So, a Vulcan walks into a bar..." someone started from the opposite side of the table, to a few chuckles.

Maenad glared at the stranger disapprovingly, but her grin quickly returned as she sidled up with the Vulcan. "Okay, Mister Liyar," she said, "You're supposed to savour the taste. You don't drink these like you would a protein shake, for goodness sake," she shook her head as she took a very generous sip from her own glass, hypocritically. "A protein shake, for goodness sake," she grinned at her unintentional rhyme. "Have you ever read my poetry, Mister Liyar? It is quite good, if I do say so myself." She actually believed the contrary, that her poetry was quite bad. She didn't even like poetry, honestly, but she was starting to lose any sense of modesty that she had. That was what happened to Maenad when she started drinking; she lost her modesty, she lost all her reservations, her confidence exploded to levels thought impossible, she touched people without restraint, and she seemed to be one of the happiest people a person could ever meet - if she liked you. What astounded people, though, was that they wouldn't know she was drunk without context; she could be inebriated without slurring and stand without swaying, something she had always been proud of.

"I have not," Liyar admitted, watching while the patron from earlier stood and approached them. He was clearly intoxicated, and leaned against the bar in front of Maenad. Liyar glared at him. He didn't really mean it, but maybe it would make him go away. He'd been told he had a somewhat intimidating glare. How useful. The man smelled. Gross.

"I'll gladly read some of your poetry," the guy said with an answering grin.

The Glare went sadly ignored. He seemed more concerned with watching Maenad. Liyar decided that warranted another whatever that drink was. If he was being ditched for some Smelly Man, he could at least get a drink out of it. He gestured to the bartender flippantly.

"Well, then Mist--" Maenad was distracted by the man she had told to shut up with her eyes from a moment ago. He'd come over to lean awfully close to her, and he... he was interested in her poetry? She looked him over, but didn't know what she thought.

"Funny," she said to him with an expression somewhere between curiousness and disgust. She could smell the booze on his breath, but he had wonderful hair. And she liked his hands, too. "You do not strike me as the type who can read writing, much less interpret poetry," she took a drink. "Even if it were read to you," she added.

"Hey, I'll have you know, I'm very scholarly," Smelly, as Liyar decided to call him mentally, shot back with an easy smile, unoffended. "And I'd be happy to prove it to you. Come back to my quarters, grab a little dinner..." he suggested it without embarrassment. "'I couldn't breathe, spun around. / Anyone who saw me must think I'm dancing. / It's not inconceivable that my eyes are open.,'" he recited dramatically. "Of course, yours sounds much more intriguing."

Liyar looked up. Smelly Man was irritating him. (And honestly, this guy? All the patrons in the bar, and it's Smelly? With the badly translated poetry - Szymborska no less, really, butchering Szymborska, he feels a migraine coming on - and ugly hair?) "Your translation is inadequate. You are reciting it wrong," he interrupted coldly.

"Hey, that's a perfectly acceptable trans--"

"Furthermore, the poem, while suitably macabre, was undoubtedly chosen in ignorance, as I assume it is within regular Terran purview to be offended by the comparison to a blasphemous figure in an attempt to be, I believe, flirtatious." It was a regular Vulcan smackdown. Smelly did not look like he understood more than every second word. "Although, perhaps Lieutenant Panne might find the reference ironic, given her noted atheism. Nevertheless, goodbye." Liyar reached over and slid the man's drink to the opposite side of the bar, and this time the Glare was definitely noticed.

Affronted, Smelly glanced between the two of them shiftily. Welp. He was scratching off Introduction to Polish Poets on his list of Suitable Classes to Pick Up Women With.

Maenad was no fan of Szymborska, and as was thoroughly impressed that Liyar would have known that. She had already forgotten about the man Liyar had sent packing, and she felt rather flattered by him. She slipped an arm around the Vulcan's elbow and smiled at him with bright shining eyes. "Thank you, Mister Liyar. I had no idea you knew me so well," she said softly. "I would much rather go back to your quarters than his," she said haphazardly and as if it were a statement of unobjectionable fact.

"An estimate," Liyar admitted, finishing the remainder of the drink set before him earlier. Of course, for some people, such an estimate with only a few days to notice would be beyond creepy. For Liyar, it was something he just automatically did. Filing bits and pieces of people in his brain for future reference, especially against the foreign atmosphere of the Galileo. "You appear somewhat intoxicated," Liyar observed Very Astutely, with Brilliant Logical Mind Powers. Though his own behavior was a little less rigid than usual. Maybe those drinks weren't entirely without effect.

"Yes, I am," she admitted. "Quite so, in fact," she took a long sip of her drink. "I do apologise if my behaviour is immature, Mister Liyar." She had had a lot of gin and very quickly. Being a wine-drinker, this much gin in this small amount of time had her probably acting abnormally, she realised. But she could hear that she was speaking just fine and she didn't feel dizzy at all. Maybe Liyar was just smarter than she knew. Maybe Liyar knew her better than she knew, too. She smiled at him again. But, wait a minute, he had been here longer than she had, and he had had quite a headstart on her. Telling that man who wanted to lure her back to his place to get away from her, maybe that was out of jealousy, wondered Maenad. Some part of her, the subdued and repressed inner madwoman that yearned to be free, hoped that were true. Vulcan efficiency, she thought with a pleasant tingle in her thighs. She thought that despite Vulcan emotional suppression, they would be very, very, thorough. In many ways, to be desired by a Vulcan, she thought, would be the best kind of unforgettable. She maintained her beaming smile, looking up into his eyes, while completely forgetting that she had locked her elbow in his.

Liyar's eyes widened at the random turn of her thoughts, drunkenly unshielded as they were, and he blinked several times as if that would somehow alter what he'd just perceived. Nope. Still there. He carefully extricated his arm from hers. "I am told this set of behavior is natural amongst intoxicated individuals," he said simply. "However, in the interest of disclosure, I am a touch-telepath." The deer-in-headlights expression clearly gave away that he knew what her thoughts consisted of. Oops.

After the initial reminder of Liyar's telepathy, Maenad looked suddenly sad. "It wasn't necessarily about you," she said to him. Resigned, she looked away from the bar toward the sea. There was no sense in denying, she thought. But it wasn't about Liyar so much as it was about Vulcans, he just sparked the thought. Hopefully he knew that, and if he didn't, well, she couldn't feel guilty for her imagination.

At that, Liyar seemed to relax. He noted the random spike of sadness, and pondered it to himself. Loneliness, some part of his brain he usually did not listen to, supplied out of the blue. How could he make such a baseless assumption? Yet, he knew it. Simple as that. He had to ask himself how true like knows like really was in the end. He poked the end of the tiny umbrella in his new drink into the ice, Thinky Face on full blast. Eventually he nodded and spoke again. "I believe you would find a Vulcan relationship... infuriating," he ventured with a small arch of his eyebrow. He recalled Dr. Dahan's extensive work detailing some major cultural differences, many of which would no doubt aggravate any reasonable Terran.

"No doubt," Maenad said, but her mind was a thousand miles way. She didn't want to tell him that she wasn't thinking about relationships as much as she was just plain and simple... well, she had to be careful now. She finished her drink in silence, enjoying the warmth of the gentle breeze.

Liyar simply raised the tiny umbrella'd glass in his hand. Touche.

----------------

Kiri watched everyone else scatter, heading off in different directions. All the things left nearby and she was the only person left to look after them. Starting to feel rather hot she considered standing in the sea for a few minutes but she couldn't leave. Letting out a sigh she settled back onto her blanket and tried to focus on the pad she'd brought. However hard she tried though there was no progress on her work.

Athlen ambled up to the Trill, sitting himself down beside her in the sand. He had his own PADD out, but he put it away. "Hello!" he greeted her cheerfully, soaking up the sun's rays happily.

"Hello again," Kiri smiled and bowed her head slightly, "Did you enjoy the game earlier?"

Athlen grinned. "Oh, yes. Very much. I haven't done that in years. How about you?" he asked, brushing an errant strand of hair out of his face.

"Yes, I wish I was better at it though." It had been a lot of fun for her, it was something that she felt she missed a lot. Rising up a little more she added, "I would like to do it again, if you would like."

"Definitely," Athlen concurred. He was seated with his legs crossed underneath him, lotus-style. "So, did you organize all this?" he asked, gesturing to the beach and the various people wandering around.

"Well, I invited everyone on the crew, requested a few things that was all." Everyone else had set up their own things to do, she didn't feel up to arranging anything too complex and it had all worked out well so far.

"Well, I think it's nice. No one else thought to do it, after all. You look a little sad. Would you like to do something with me?" Athlen smiled. "Though, I am not very skilled at chess," he admitted. "I found these. They're really very nice. I'm thinking of making something with them. Do you want to help find more?" He held out several colorful stones and shells he'd found along the shoreline. "You could make something too."

"Oh," Kiri looked rather startled by his collection at first. It idea of getting up and walking seemed rather tiring to her but for a little while at least it couldn't hurt. Rolling her little shoulders slightly she smiled, "That would be nice."

OFF:
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Lieutenant (JG) Liyar
Diplomatic Officer, VDF/SDD
USS Galileo

Crewman Athlen
Sociologist, SCC
USS Galileo

Lieutenant (JG) Kiri Cho
Assistant Chief Science Officer
USS Galileo

Lieutenant (JG) Maenad Panne
Chief Science Officer
USS Galileo

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