Arrow Crabs

Posted on 19 Sep 2017 @ 6:50pm by Lieutenant JG Cameron & Rear Admiral Lirha Saalm & Ensign Miraj Derani

2,651 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: Episode 15 - Emanation
Location: Earth - Starfleet Headquarters
Timeline: MD 18, 1217 hrs

[ON]

Lieutenant (JG) Cameron heaved an inaudible sigh as he finished the final touches of his uniform , checking his appearance with meticulous attention to detail so as to ensure that nothing was out of place. While already something of a perfectionist, Cameron's new detail as aide-de-corp to Admiral Lirha Saalm made minor details such as uniform appearance even more important. It was hardly what he would have preferred, however. But at least Cameron had managed to find some solace in the belief that this assignment could prove to be a stepping stone to better one.

Nodding to Aren's illusion before unlocking the door, Cameron watched her vanish as though carried away by the wind. While a part of him had sought to convince himself that he had captured at least a portion of her Katra, in by doing so was preserving the woman she once was, a bigger part knew that this Aren was nothing like the one he'd befriended as a cadet. As he entered the hallway and closed the door behind him, listening to the auto-lock engage automatically, Cameron felt the aparent blink away for a moment, and for a heart beat, he was back aboard the Sevastopol. The acrid stench of burnt Tritanium and Monotanium cut through his nostrils, making it hard for him to breathe. He heard weapons fire nearby -- the telltale hiss of Federation phasers, and the heavy snap of Cardassian energy weapons.

The acid hit his eyes and throat. He coughed, doubled over as his eyes burned red with irritation and his lungs threatened to expel themselves onto the deck.

And then he saw Aren lying on the ground, a large wound protruding from her her stomach.

Cameron blinked again, leaving behind the painful memory as he forced his way back to reality. He immediately noticed this his heartrate was elevated and that he'd begun to perspire. What had happened had been almost four years ago. And yet it still unsettled him... and no matter how many walls he erected within his mind, that memory kept finding new ways to get through. Cameron wondered... suspected even... that it was Aren's presence that caused this particular affliction. He also wondered in what ways it would might worsen.

Building up walls in his mind again, Cameron didn't move until the facade of Vulcan stoicism was fully erect. He then began making his way towards the elevator.

"Mister Cameron," came Saalm's distinctive light voice from behind him. Approaching from the rear was the Orion admiral who casually strolled toward the turbolift with a mug of steaming hot chocolate in her hand. "I thought that might have been you," she added with a smile when he turned around.

"Admiral Saalm," Cameron greeted in return, barely masking his astonishment as she came up to him. Thankfully, there was an apparent lack possession of winged slugs, although he knew that could change. "I was unaware that you possessed an apartment in this building."

"I don't. I was just visiting someone," she replied. Who exactly she was visiting, however, was a small secret she preferred to keep private. "Besides, I've always found Starfleet's accommodations rather lacking for my tastes. They can be so...dull." The absence of decorations combined with the standard drab gray walls was hard enough to deal with on a daily basis aboard a starship, let alone planet-side.

Cameron nodded in agreement. There was just enough Xenexian in him that meager factors such as decorum counted for something. "I see. And was your visit... agreeable?" He asked.

"Oh, quite. As delicious as the wing slugs you brought me yesterday," Saalm smiled while she privately thought of her intimate session with Franklin that'd ended just fifteen minutes ago. "And how are your quarters? Agreeable as well?" she teased as she often did to Vulcans with pointed language.

"Quite sufficient." Cameron admitted. In fact, he almost felt that there was too much room for his lonely occupation to make use of. They were certainly larger than traditional quarters, even aboard a Galaxy-class cruiser.

Cameron began to follow the Admiral into the elevator. "Main level, please." He instructed, anticipating that he and Saalm would be heading in the same direction. He regarded a few items of small talk to discuss on their way down, but as he was already aware of her full itinerary, he couldn't come up with anything substantial.

And he didn't want to volunteer to fetch her likely-to-be exotic brand of breakfast. Hopefully, whomever the Admiral spent her night with had provided at least basic subsistence. If she were to make a request, however, he would most certainly oblige.

Realizing that he had nothing worthy to contribute, he remained silent as the elevator began its descent.

Saalm had stepped into the lift after her assistant and now idly twiddled her green thumbs while standing next to him. She briefly pondered the latest leaked release of Orion theater shows for the upcoming week, then her mind drifted to the thought of Vajripam's white beaches. Then she thought of Orion arrow crabs and their succulent meat. Turning to face him, she decided to extend him some hospitality. "Have you eaten recently?"

Cameron regarded the question with mixed feelings. "I have not, ma'am." He answered honestly; his previous meal had been with Commander Aren Ban, former executive-officer of the late USS Galileo -- Saalm's previous command...

Gratefully, that meal had been more satisfying than the wing slugs.

She smiled to herself and looked up at him, "Good. I have not either and I know of a food stand on our route that serves authentic arrow crab." Her eyes shone with a hungry twinkle. "I don't suppose Vulcans or Xenxians are fond of crustaceans?"

An inaudible sigh of relief might have been detected if not for Cameron's immense dexterity of self control. While Vulcans didn't consume meat products... even synthesized, Xenexians were quite fond of them. As a child, Cameron preferred crab. Although he couldn't be sure what 'arrow crab' was specifically, he couldn't imagine it to be much worse than wing slug.

"Crustaceans are considered something of a delicacy... on Xenex, ma'am." He admitted. "Although the Dentari regulated the farming and purchase of seafood, I have... fond... memories of eating Xenexian crab with my mother."

"Is that so?" she smiled wryly. "Consider it a second lunch date. Just be sure to not call me 'mother'."


Fifteen Minutes Later...

Cameron and Saalm now found themselves seated at a small park bench less than two blocks from the Starfleet HQ complex. Sitting on opposite sides of the table facing each other, each of them had a large bag of five arrow crabs, various seasonings and sauces, and an army of wetnaps.

The Orion reached into her bag and procured a large crab, then started to break off the legs and set them to the side. "Just be sure not to puncture the venom sac when you are removing the lungs," she cautioned. "They are called arrow crabs because their poison was once used to tip the arrows of warriors. Even a small scratch could lead to paralysis for days."

Cameron carefully withdrew his own crab. It looked very different those he'd eaten on Xenex, and the mention of a poisonous component made it even less appetizing. What is it about this Admiral and strange cuisines? he thought to himself, the Vulcan half immediately chiding him for judging the cultures of another race, while the Xenexian part of him wanted nothing less ask the Admiral that very question.

"Curious," he said as he mimicked Saalm's movements at prying apart their meal. "And what happens if someone fails to procure this knowledge ahead of time?" It did seem odd, particularly given that this had come from a public food vendor.

She laughed as she split the shell of her delicious crustacean in half, sending droplets of crab juice squirting out on to the paper place mat. "I think that person would have a very bad day," she mused out loud while looking up at him. The bright afternoon sun shone down on then, and as she looked over his features, she noticed a strange pigmentation change in his skin. "Did you get sunburned?" she asked.

Cameron's brow furrowed at the curious question. He had spent the majority of his tour in Starfleet on Luna, and this was the first time he'd had extended unfiltered exposure to sunlight, so it was entirely possible that he'd gotten burned. Still, he felt neither injury nor sensation of having been burned.

"Not as far as I am aware." He said, temporarily halting his work on lunch.

She studied the variations in his complexion a bit more intently, wondering if she was seeing things. "Well...I see something. Have a look for yourself." After quickly wiping one of her hands clean on a napkin, she retrieved her PADD from her belt clip, activated the self-facing camera on the slim device, and slid it over for him to see for himself.

Cameron reluctantly pulled the PADD and looked. Sure enough, there were portions of his flesh that seemed to lack pigmentation. "How odd." He admitted, tracing his fingers around his eyes and lips where the differential seemed more apparent.

"You've gone the same colour as a landed fish around the eyes." Aren materialized behind Lirha, peering over the admiral's shoulder in concern. "Has she poisoned you?" She gave the crab an accusatory glare.

Cameron carefully shot a dismissive glare so that the Admiral might not notice, and then switched the ultra-violet setting on the camera. Certainly enough, the portion around his eyes showed little to no pigmentation, and other areas of his face appeared to be less effected. "I would not regard this condition as one being produced by sun burn..." the Vulcan-Xenexian hybrid pointed out.

"This would likely merit at least a cursory medical examination." He hesitated, then looked back to Saalm. "Admiral, I have not selected a dedicated practitioner. Would you happen to have any recommendations?" He asked.

"Dont ask her!" The selkie apparition hissed at him. "She's just fed you poison crab! She could send you to anyone. Another poisoner! Someone who could sefate you, chop you up and turn you into pies!"

Saalm broke open a large crab leg with her sharp fingertips and pulled out a succulent piece of meat. "If you think it's serious, perhaps I can refer you to one of my ship's..." she paused to correct herself, "..one of Galileo's former doctors? Commander Warraquim or Lieutenant Voutilainen?"

The offer seemed as safe as possible. Cameron nodded simply, a small but concerned smile crossed his features before vanishing back into the embodiment of Vulcan facade.

Smiling politely back at the man, Saalm continued to eat her crab legs for a short moment of silence. "What do you like to do in your free time, lieutenant? Your hobbies and interests," she finally spoke up in an attempt to get rid of the awkward silence.

That particular question never ceased to catch Cameron by surprise... if there was a Vulcan equivalent of the word. He wondered for a moment what Aren might suggest he point out rather than search for his own answer to Lirha's question. Then again, doing so might lead to 'contradictory' responses... so Cameron thought better of that.

He set his half-pulled Crab upon his leg and considered his response. "I enjoy chess, poker... and performing with the Trumpet. Particularly when jazz is involved." The fact that Cameron's tone never escaped Vulcan-norm during his response could have caught anybody off guard.

"You forgot moping!" Aren stage hissed from behind Lirha's head, a devilish gleam in her eyes. "And listening to music that sounds like dolphins with a throat condition having an argument." Even alive Aren had only tolerated jazz, preferring music with less complex melodies.

Chess, poker, trumpet, jazz. Poker? "I thought Vulcan's preferred logic to games of chance?" Saalm pondered out loud. "Poker?"

Cameron somehow managed to disconnect enough segments of his crab so as to reach in for what he could only hope was a delicious meaty interior. As he carefully placed that meat into his mouth, he waited in anticipation for a myriad of flavors or a discourse of his stomach. Thankfully, it was the former.

"I am only half Vulcan, Admiral." He pointed out nonchalantly as he started to dig for a second piece, carefully avoiding the stomach region in case he were to mistake the venom sack.

"Ah. So you mix logic with entertainment and pleasure?" she presumed with a mischievous glint in her green eyes. "You could become quite formidable on certain worlds, you know."

"Maybe on planet Boring." Aren sighed, still hovering just behind Lirha's head. "You are no fun any more, you're always on that blasted instrument torturing the local bat population. Maybe you should challenge her to a game of strip poker?"

"Indeed." Cameron indicated... possibly to both questions. "I was raised on Xenex by my mother into my adolescence. I didn't begin to learn Vulcan philosophy until much later when I arrived at Vulcan with the intention of staying with my father. From there, I attended a school designed for people like me -- half-Vulcans who did not begin in the way of logic at a standard age. As a result, I did not develop fully in accordance with Vulcan standards. I have decided to... retain... certain vices I've grown accustom to."

"Do tell," the Orion almost blurted out. One of her favorite past times when she was young was hearing the stories of strange species she'd never seen before. She absorbed different cultures and customs like a sponge, which had eventually turned into her strongest asset as a Starfleet officer.

"I believe I just did." Cameron pointed out.

Aren rolled her eyes. "She means tell her more, silly. Why have you decided to retain the vices you have? Why jazz when you could be into shipspotting, or collecting spores moulds and fungi? You know, small talk?" The spirit made a rolling gesture with her hand to encourage him to carry on. "Sheesh! No wonder you haven't had a date in five years. And no, that EPS fitter on Luna Base does not count."

Barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes or elicit a sigh, Cameron kept his focus on the Admiral across from him.

"Surely the performing arts and an occasional game of chance are not too bad...what are your real vices?" Saalm asked, not letting the junior lieutenant get away from her question so easily.

Cameron maintained his stoic persona on the outside, but deep inside he felt small bits of his innards squirming. Whether it was due to the crab, or because of the direct nature of her questions, was his own guess. "Were you to inquire my friends and colleagues, Admiral, I suspect they would tell you that the manner in which I live my life is... rather unexciting." Cameron said, taking a note from Aren's chiding. "But if I were to suddenly discover any immoral or wicked tendencies or urges, I will be sure to let you know."

She laughed in between chews. "Don't inform me. Find a counselor first," she grinned.

"As you wish, Admiral." Cameron answered plaintively.

Turning her focus back to her shell crabs, Saalm realized it would be a interesting week ahead working with Cameron. Her style of jest and casual banter didn't appear to make much progress on the outside, but she was hopeful they'd get to know each other a bit more in the coming days.

[OFF]

--

RADM Lirha Saalm
Commanding Officer
USS Galileo

LT (JG) Cameron
Chief of Operations
USS Galileo

The Katra of Aren Rasmussen
[NPC Derani]

RSS Feed

Comments (1)