Comfort Zone

Posted on 14 Jan 2013 @ 9:00pm by Warrant Officer Evan Kell & Crewman Indri Chara

1,412 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Episode 03 - Frontier
Location: USS Galileo: WO Kell's Office
Timeline: MD-1 0900

ON:

Kell stood with his arms crossed over the various computer screens in his office. He was the only other intelligence officer aboard aside from Coleman, and Markos, but Markos was so elusive he decided not to count on her presence long. The monitors were displaying news feeds from Terra. This wasn't his job anymore, but he felt compelled to check up on Dahan's case. The woman retired years ago. What was she now, a teacher? VSA?

They'd contracted her, ECTU, and managed to crack down Rachel Dahan. On the news feed in front of him, a dark-haired woman was being taken into a police car in Tel Aviv. Kell quirked a lip upward. Good for Sarai. According to the reports, the bait and switch tactic was a success. They'd lured Rachel out by staging a confrontation between Sarai and her husband, Sokam. Convinced that he was an abusive alien, Sarai knew Rachel would try and intervene. And she had, because she was still her sister, despite her bizarre beliefs, and she thought she had been protecting her.

Kell switched the monitor, face neutral as ever. He couldn't understand this mindset. He was an observer. That's what he did. He watched people, cataloged them, noted them. He knew their tells, their habits, their motivations. He knew intellectually why some people were xenophobic, why they felt that instinctive Terran fear, or Romulan fear, or even Vulcan fear when it came to outsiders. Knowing someone bled different to you, thought different, looked different, communicated different. Kell knew intellectually that it was supposed to be frightening. As an alien himself, he did not feel those things. He wasn't a Vulcan. Vulcans were, in fact, a highly passionate race with a deep rooted sense of emotionalism and rage.

Kell knew he was different. He was shallow, where others were deep. He was calm, where others would be suppressing it, faking it, coping with it, meditating on it or even channeling it. That was his life, and he was used to it. But he still, could not truly understand those feelings. He simply had never felt them. He did feel friendship, amusement, sometimes. He knew he thought of Tiffany, Jeremy and Sarai as friends. They often amused him, but he needed to spend a lot of time around them before he really felt it. He got used to them. They became part of his routine, part of his average. His childhood psychologist said that Capellans needed time to adjust to outsiders, and since he wasn't on Capella, everyone was an outsider. He wondered sometimes if he would be just as emotional as a Terran if he had grown up around his own species.

It didn't bother him that much honestly. He observed, and watched, and was content with that.

***
A chime came to the door. Kell crossed over to answer it only to discover it was stalled. They didn't fix these things? He looked around the hallway and someone clearing his throat had him look downward. A short Tellarite greeted him, a PADD thrust in his direction. "Security's busy doing a debrief. I'm off duty, but I ran this down. Thought you people would want the official reports." She spoke gruffly and curtly, and Kell looked at her curiously.

"Yeah, sure," he took the report, alright with this mundane interference into his time. He ducked back under the door but once again, it did not shut.

The Tellarite rolled her eyes. "Oh, move over. These doors," she grouched, pulling a spanner from a spot at the side of her coat. Did she carry those around all the time? Kell stepped back and let her in.

"Mm," Kell offered noncommittally.

"Crewman Chara," the Tellarite introduced, sticking a three-fingered hand out at him. Kell took it without the usual hesitation one probably had at being faced with a hand that had only three fingers. Chara was surprised. Most people flinched away. Interesting. Kell looked up at the corner of the door and pushed over a chair with his foot. Chara climbed on top of it and held up her spanner toward the large top pad mechanism. "This is a disaster. It's worse than Stone's. What the hell have you been doing with it?" she grumped, in usual Tellarite fashion.

"Opening. Closing. Door stuff," Kell shrugged casually.

"Ha, ha," Chara rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, don't know," Kell leveled with her, sitting on the edge of his desk. "I'm Evan Kell," he introduced himself, although he had the sensation he was interjecting awkwardly, he waved unseen.

Chara scowled and slammed the front of her palm into the main coil. The door popped shut and then opened again on the track. "There," she huffed triumphantly, jumping down off the chair. "You want lunch? Then I have to sleep," she groaned, swiping her hand against the back of her neck.

"Yeah, sure," Kell nodded and picked up his PADD, walking over to the replicator. "Eh, kimchi," he spoke, turning to the crewman. The kimchi appeared in a bowl and he pilfered it while he waited for her to select.

"Racht," she decided on with a nod.

Kell shrugged and ordered it. It looked a little alive. Hm. He handed her the cardboard box with Klingon characters on the sides. "Any good?"

"Not bad, really. Replicators make it too bland, I find," she sat down on the chair and crossed her legs, poking a fork into the box. So, this was a guy who didn't seem to care about the fact that she was a Tellarite, didn't care that she ate food most people thought was gross, and generally didn't seem to care about anything. How awesome, she thought, completely un-ironically. It was surprisingly comfortable.

"Can't have bland racht."

"Smartass."

"Klingon," Kell returned irelessly.

"So original," Chara smiled.

"Yeah. I try." Kell lifted his chopsticks up and decimated his kimchi voraciously. They ate their lunch in mostly-quiet, while Kell continued his work.

Chara leaned her head back on the chair, eyes closed. It had been a long, arduous few days. She didn't think that her assignment on board a science vessel would honestly be so difficult. It was a science vessel, what kind of trouble could they get into? But, they had. And she was tired. "Hmm. Your office is nice. What are you doing?" she asked, eyes opening blearily to gaze at the random monitors.

"My old partner," Kell explained, turning the volume up. "Worked a case. Earth First. Girl's been caught."

"This is Kristoff Hanson with the Federation News Network, and here we are live in Tel Aviv, Israel, on Terra where noted Earth First leader is being apprehended as we speak. As we know, Earth First has been a major thorn in Terra's side for many years as one of the primarily active terrorist groups of our generation, a notorious xenophobic hate organization devoted to bringing down extraterrestrial impact. Miss Dahan," the man moved, but was drowned out by a bunch of shouting as he tried to get closer to the car, pushing through a crowd of other reporters.

The feed cut out and Kell shrugged.

"Sounds intense. So you were part of that," she waved a hand, "Uh... what, exactly?"

"Earth Counterterrorism Unit, ECTU."

"Spooky." Chara thought that sounded rather interesting. Her own experience in security was decidedly lacking, but she knew she wanted to advance, help people. The events that happened on the Galileo a while ago, even though she'd gotten some major flak for it, only cemented that idea further in her head. No, she wasn't the best officer, but she was going to get there. Kell's office was really cozy. "Hey, Warrant, you mind if I sleep here?" she murmured groggily into her racht.

Kell blinked. "Go ahead," he said, apparently unconcerned with the strange crewman who apparently seemed to view his office as the best spot for a nap. She leaned against the back wall and dozed off with the sound of the news feeds buzzing around her. Kell finished the rest of his kimchi and went back to work as though nothing at all had happened.

OFF:

Warrant Officer Evan Kell
Intelligence Officer, SFI
USS Galileo

Crewman Indri Chara
Security/Tactical Officer, SFS
USS Galileo

 

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