A Good Start

Posted on 28 Jan 2013 @ 4:52pm by Lieutenant Aria Rice
Edited on on 30 Jan 2013 @ 12:21am

1,323 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Episode 03 - Frontier
Location: USS Galileo - Lounge
Timeline: MD -01 1840

ON:

Liyar exhaled, and turned back to the now empty bar counter in front of him. The lounge had cleared out, after Graysan decided to vacate the area at long last, a conversation that had been as tedious as it was arduous, but the Vulcan merely poured himself another glass of sheekuya na and set to work demolishing it in the comfort of the quiet room. An awkward meditational habit to be sure, but at least somewhat effective. He didn't appear to notice as a dark-headed shorter woman walked through the doors or took up the spot next to him.

Aria Rice let out a breath as she reached out, watching the bar counter. She finally sighed and looked around. "So...any chance for a drink then?" she asked, her blue eyes going to Liyar.

Blinking down, Liyar tilted his head. He didn't recognize her, she looked more like a child than she did an officer. Perhaps she was one of that Nesh Saalm's friends. Was she even eligible to drink? He did a quick bit of mental math and came up with a figure that had to be at least older than twenty. He pushed a fingertip against the bottle in front of him and slid it over. He wasn't sure how to phrase the only thing that came to mind, so it was somewhat awkward. "Sheekuya na is rather potent. I recommend caution."

"If it is rocket fuel, it'll be what I am used to," she said and took a glass, pouring herself some. "Thanks..." she sipped it before smiling to him, her eyes warm. "I shouldn't. Got a meeting later... but my hangover is so bad I need this to take the edge off. Shoreleave was pretty...err...." she considered it and met his eyes. "Sorry. Babbling. I'm Aria."

Deciding against taking his own advice, Liyar tipped the remaining contents of his glass down his throat and added yet another cap off. He attempted to place her once again. Lieutenant. Services. Young. Aria. "Lieutenant Rice," he determined finally with a conciliatory nod. "I am Liyar," he offered, raising his eyes to hers in return. "I am unfamiliar with the etymology of babbling. However, I do strongly suggest you reconsider your habit of consuming rocket fuel. It is hazardous to Terran health." He was in an advice-giving kind of mood, it seemed.

She chuckled as she held his eyes, nodding. "More the strength of it, not actual rocket fuel. I mean, can you even get a hold of that anymore?" she winked and held his eyes. "You're the diplomat..."

"I am," Liyar acknowledged. "As well," he started, but paused to down the rest of his 'shot', if Vulcans poured shots, "It is possible to obtain rocket propellant, yes. Considering it is merely pressurized reaction mass comprised of dual oxidizing and fuel components. Such as, for instance, hydroxyl-terminated polybutadiene and nitrous oxide. Both easily accessible with the correct authorization. There are also inert propellants which are used in smaller spacecraft today," he added off-hand.

She met his eyes, holding them for a long moment. "I flunked science and chemistry," she said, before grinning. "Which makes it better for me to have you here with me. You know this stuff...I don't. So...question becomes, my dearest diplomat...why the hell are you stuck in this empty room, drinking as if you had demons to chase away?"

"That is a highly illogical metaphor to describe my activities," Liyar responded, as if he were the paragon virtue of logic and reason while he poured another glass and began focusing on his meal, picking up the two chopsticks beside his bowl. He cast his eyes about the counter. What reason was there to do anything, really? Why did someone do one thing and another something different? He realized a little befuddled that maybe that was one shot too many. Fortunately, he wasn't an embarrassing, or even a... drunk drunk, as it so happened, his expression perfectly neutral. He settled on a small shrug instead. The only answer he could come up with was that it wasn't a lab, and it wasn't an empty room. None of those answers sounded very logical, either. "Why is it that you are here, if you are due to attend a meeting shortly?" he returned the question deftly. He could do the diplomat thing after all.

She smiled gently and shrugged, knocking back the drink. "Good question. Maybe because I would rather be here than anywhere else right now?" she suggested and held his eyes, without any hesitation.

"Indeed. You appear to be engaging in a custom common to my home city," he noted with somewhat more verbosity than he usually demonstrated as she tossed her shot back. "Rom palikaya."

Aria grinned as she watched him, shrugging. "I'm from Luna. We drink, we work, we drink some more..." she held his eyes and smiled warmly. "Of course, I'll have to sober myself up properly soon."

Terrans lived on their moon. A truly peculiar thing, he mused to himself. "The culture of the population on Luna differs drastically from the predominant Terran median?" he asked, his own natural curiosity getting the better of him as it always did.

"Nah, we're just a mixing pot," Aria said and shook her head, considering it. "We're a bit weird in comparison. Everything is very clean, very artificial..."

"I see," Liyar fell silent after trailing off. He did not know what to say next. Absently, he began running through several calculations in his mind, eyes dulling as he receded into the comforting depths of numbers. Some people said that numbers, mathematics, were universal. Liyar knew differently. There were very few universal truths, only the most basic. People want what they want, and they never want the same thing. People want what they want, because of themselves. They want. They exist. They survive. They die. Everyone's mathematics looked different to Liyar. Aria Rice was brash, young, unsophisticated. With capacity for something warm, caring, he thought, although not in those particular terms. He was Vulcan, after all. She saw the world in subjectivity. Sensation. Perception. Her mathematics were visceral, hands on. The numbers floated about his mind, winding through his thoughts, turning his impressions into quantifiable data. People, he thinks, can be condensed into the very numbers that make up their being. Decisions, action and reaction. Until something happens. It can't be anticipated. It is novel. Liyar frowned a little and tossed back his final shot, staring into his bowl, deep thoughts amassing inside no doubt loosened by the alcohol, though he said none of them aloud.

She watched him for a moment before smiling gently, seeing the way he was thinking. She didn't know what he was thinking, but he was. Hard. And she reached out, touching his arm and squeezing it. "And no matter what, we cling to hope. We're colonists. Dreamers, really...by one day the dreamers must awake from this dream..." she winked and pulled her hand back, sitting back with a sigh. "I like that drink. What was it called again?"

Liyar blinked a few times, caught out of his reverie, tensing a little at the contact mostly because as always, it was a jarring look into the thoughts of others around him, but he relaxed minutely and nodded. "It is called sheekuya na," he answered her after a moment of pulling himself back to reality.

"Sheekuya na..." she repeated, to commit it to memory. "A lovely drink if I ever had one. Thank you for sharing it with me, Sir."

Liyar nodded in acknowledgment, raising his glass toward her slightly, figuring she would be leaving now for her meeting.

OFF:

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

Lieutenant (JG) Aria Rice
Security/Tactical Officer, SFS
USS Galileo

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