Chance Encounter

Posted on 26 Sep 2022 @ 6:36pm by Lieutenant Maralen Seitha & Captain Bane Plase

2,787 words; about a 14 minute read

Mission: Outbreak
Location: DS9 Promenade

It was late for most people, but Maralen Seitha was not most people. He guessed that, given his background, he was not even most felines. Sleep was a thing that most looked forward to, but not him. And, thankfully, he had learned while serving the Realm that he could avoid it for seven days before his body gave up and rendered him unconscious. So they had worked him for six days and then given him three days off. He was now taking the same approach. He had been since he had been removed from the service of those who had come after the Realm, the ThoughtSingers. Tonight was night three.

Earlier that day, when he had arrived on Deep Space 9 -- not a very inventive name, he reflected -- he had passed through the Promenade briefly on his way to acquire temporary quarters from the station's quartermaster. At that time, he had seen a great many beings going about their affairs and had decided that he would, at a later time, spend some time exploring the Promenade and its offerings, which was why he was here now.

There were fewer beings about now, but the storefronts were far from deserted. Pausing beside a shop, he glanced over its wares and then let his gaze slide over the general area once more before moving on. Prowling.

Across the hall walked Plase. Not wearing his uniform, and not carrying anything with him that screamed Federation, he perused the shops and merchants that lined the bulkheads for as far as he could see in front of him, and as far back as he could see. He had only been on this station one other time prior to being assigned to the Cygnus, and back then, it was still in shambles, still torn apart from the ravages of The Occupation.

Now, it was teeming with life, and it had a much different feel to it. It was a hub, a city in space, where people lived, worked, laughed, played, had children and grew old. It felt good. And even though it was Cardassian in design, and run by the Federation (of which Bajor was part of), it felt Bajoran.

Spotting a storefront that piqued his interest, he stepped over to it, coming shoulder to shoulder with a Caitian. Wait, he thought, no, that was a Ledaran. They were rather rare to see out and about, and almost completely foreign to this section of the galaxy. It was nice to see the species recovering and starting to make their way in the galaxy.

Maralen had paused at the shop to peruse its wares when he felt someone sidle up beside him to shop as well. Warm brown eyes slid sideways to take in the appearance of the being in question, and his eidetic memory provided the man's dossier. So this was the captain he would now serve under. Maralen gave him the once-over before speaking. His tones were calm but carried warmth. Nether was on duty currently, after all.

He turned slightly so that he was at least partially facing the other man. "Hello, Captain," he greeted, not having been given permission as of yet to call the man by name.

Plase had been caught staring. How embarrassing! "Hello crewman," he said, not knowing the rank of the person he was talking to, as he wasn't in uniform. He didn't think he had a member of this person's species on the Cygnus, but clearly he did. This male knew him enough to recognize him without his uniform on. "I apologize for staring. I was not attempting to be rude. How are you this evening?"

Maralen was not offended; he had not really felt as though the captain was staring overly much. And the sense of the man was more surprise than anything to be apologized for. He shrugged lightly. "No need to apologize. Even Caitians are rare to see out this far," he said understandingly. "I am Maralen Seitha, your lieutenant in charge of Security and Tactical," he added by way of introduction as it was obvious to him that the man did not recognize him. And why should he. Maralen was new; the captain likely had not had the opportunity yet to read his dossier. "And in answer to your question, I am well. And you?" he asked, returning the courtesy offered.

The surprise on his face was complete. He had no idea he was getting a different Chief Tactical and Security Officer, much less a Caitian. "I, uh, I'm well, Lieutenant." Very few starships in Starfleet had a feline crewman; the Cygnus now had two, what with one of the doctors down in Sickbay. "I think you will be well surprised to learn we have an offshoot of your race on the Cygnus already, Dr. Kin'Fuji. She is a Cait'sune, I believe she said." He looked to the wares the merchant was attempting to hoc. "In the market for anything here, or just browsing?"

Maralen allowed himself to frown slightly. "interesting," he mused, "but I believe that the Cait'sune are an offshoot of the Caitian, not the Ledaran," he informed. "My species, Ledaran, is an offshoot of Felinium." Following the captain's gaze to the shop's wares, he shook his head. "I was more prowling than anything else and just stopped to look as I went along." His eyes came back to the captain. "What about you? Were you in search of something specific?" Everything that passed between them told him something about the man.

Bane looked back to his new officer and snapped his fingers. "Ah, that's right. My sincerest apologies," he said, meaning it. "No, not anything specific. Just window-shopping, enjoying some of the downtime the Cygnus has been granted, what with the repairs she needs. Our last mission was a bit challenging," he said cryptically.

Maralen's strategically-trained mind did not miss that the captain was being cryptic. He let it go for the moment, though, as he addressed the first thing Bane had said. "No need to apologize. It's an easy mistake to make, especially since it's very unlikely that you have ever met one of my species before," he offered as consolation. "I was told that the ship would not be departing immediately, and I would have some leave here." His brown eyes took in the shop again before returning to the captain. "And this seems like a good way to observe the station's population without attracting undue attention."

His cat curiosity wanted to ask about the cryptic statement regarding the last mission of his new ship, and his Realm-trained mind said that he should, though for entirely different reasons. That part of his mind felt that whatever it was might be good for security and tactical to know in case there was some after-effect on the crew -- and why would the captain be so cryptic if it wasn't bad enough to create some of that.

"If I may say so, Captain," he began, keeping his voice low so that only Bane could hear him, "it might be wise for me, as your Security and Tactical lead, to know what happened as it could potentially affect the crew going forward. However, I know this is not the time or place for that conversation. I merely state it as a request for a future time in a private place." He hoped that he wasn't overstepping his bounds, but if he was, he was sure the man before him would let him know as the Realm had, though likely through different means. This was the Federation and Starfleet, after all, not the Realm.

Plase smiled. Even off duty and out of uniform, this person was ensuring they were up to speed in all aspects of their career and duties. "Short version, we were sent on a mission to discover and make First Contact with The Commonwealth on the relative back side of Cardassian space. When we got there, there was nothing left of their society, save the buildings themselves. All organic matter on the planet was gone. We encountered the Crystalline Entity, attempted to communicate with it and failed. It attacked us, and we defended ourselves. Several people were killed. Several more were seriously hurt," he said, the image of Lieutenant Lisald on the deck, bleeding badly from a gaping chest wound, product of a chunk of his console exploding in his face. "The longer version, I think, can wait until we are on duty. Either Commander Larsen, the Executive Officer, or I will brief you in full. Of course, if you have any questions now, I can attempt to answer them, so long as the information you are requesting isn't classified," he said, motioning with the tilt of his head to several civilians that were around them.

Maralen had not missed the civilians nearby. Even if he had not seen them, which he had, he would have smelled them. He nodded, accepting the answer for the moment. Full disclosure could indeed wait for duty hours. "I will hold any questions for the briefing," he said, relinquishing the subject for now. That answer, while not detailed, was enough to give him an idea of the situation he was walking into. Indeed such a mission would leave its mark on the crew, but that was more the kind of mark that was the purview of the Counselor than of Security.

"It sounds harrowing, though. The Counselor is going to be busy, I'm sure," he said, compassion entering his voice and glittering in his eyes as he spoke. Loss was something he was intimately familiar with even prior to his joining Starfleet. And Starfleet and the Federation had had more than their share of it in recent years. It seemed that he was not the only plaything of the sadistic being who ran the universe.

The Captain nodded. "You aren't wrong about that. I put in for one to be assigned to our ship just today. We haven't had one yet. The nature of our missions didn't necessitate the posting of one to the Cygnus, but with the emotional hit twice in one mission, first finding the civilization had been wiped out, and then by the casualties we suffered, I made a convincing case. We are a deep space science vessel first and foremost. It is natural to assume there will be communities built aboard ship, and we will need a mental health professional assigned, if nothing more than to keep the machine well oiled."

Maralen nodded; it made sense to him. He did find himself wishing that it had not been necessary, but he knew better than most how cruel the universe could be and the need for those who healed the mind. He had even seen one a few times over the years. He had not been in some time, but he might give it another try... maybe. "I agree. A well-cared-for crew is more likely to be an efficient and alert crew." That had come out sounding very... Realm, and he mentally frowned at himself but let it stand to see how Bane would respond to it.

Plase looked away from his new friend and to one of the small trinkets on display in front of them. "I couldn't agree more, Mr. Seitha." He shifted the conversation a bit. "I am very happy to have you aboard, and will welcome you aboard officially when the time comes, Lieutenant. It is my hope that your tour will be boring and uneventful, at least in the Tactical and Security departments. It is my hope also that the most activity our new Counselor will have is the maintenance of our mental health." Bane knew both were extremely large hopes, what with all he has seen in his career, but at least he could hope. "It is my hope that we will get to discover and catalogue a great many scientific wonders together, and bring them back to the Federation for all to learn and understand."

Maralen paused, his own eyes going back to the wares before them. Outwardly, his Calm Shell remained unchanged, but inside, he was frowning. That was a lot of hope. He suspected the man was not as much of an optimist as he sounded like just then, but it was refreshing to hear words of hope. Hope had been, for most of his life, a luxury he did not have. There had been sparks of it a few times, but they had always been snuffed out fairly quickly by the machinations of things bigger than himself. "Thank you for the welcome," he said sincerely. "I wish I could be as hopeful as you," he added, a slight undercurrent of something that could possibly be identified as wistfulness entering his tones before being pushed out for his normal calm tone, "but I can at least share the hope of finding many interesting discoveries to bring home to benefit the Federation." He hoped that he did not sound as pessimistic as he thought he did.

Bane turned to the Lieutenant. "Hope is a powerful thing, the best of things. Hope is the stuff dreams are made of. So long as you are hopeful, and keep working towards that hope, then everything will turn out exactly as it is supposed to. Despair, fear, hopelessness, that is when things go from bad to worse in short order. I am glad to hear you have hope. I would not want anyone on the Cygnus, or even in Starfleet, if they didn't have hope." Bane looked to the merchant. "How much for this?"

"Ah, that will be two slivers of gold-pressed latinum, please," she said, her voice gravely and hoarse, a sign that at one point she worked in the ore processing facility on this very station. He felt for her immediately. He pressed his thumb to the plate on the PADD, then typed in a tip, an additional two slivers. It was the least he could do. "Thank you, ma'am. May the Prophets smile upon you."

She smiled at Plase and his companion. "Thank you. To both of you, as well."

Maralen nodded to the captain's statements, his expression thoughtful. "You are right about hope. It can keep you sane when all around you is trying to break you." His tone had taken on a note of knowing as he said that, the voice of experience. "But it is a fine line between enough hope and self-delusion," he commented. Too much optimism could lead to trouble as surely as its opposite. Hope was good, but it had to be tempered with realism, he thought.

Looking at the items on display, he lifted a small object and showed it to the lady. "How much for this?" he asked.

"'The line between hope and delusion is tempered by knowledge and experience.'" Bane then looked at his companion. "A quote by the Bajoran Prophet Aldean Morab."

Maralen's eyes came from the merchant back to Bane, studying the man for a moment before he nodded. "Indeed. Stated differently, but generally the same as my own belief," he said.

The shopkeeper spoke to him then, answering his question. "Four slips, sir."

Maralen nodded, pressing his thumb to the plate, also adding a tip of two slips. "Thank you," he told her politely.

"The truth is the truth, no matter what religion, race or planet you are from," Bane said. "Thank you for talking with me, and introducing yourself to me. I think I will enjoy having you aboard the Cygnus."

Maralen nodded to the first statement, then he let a smile creep over his features at the rest. "It was my pleasure. I hope we can do it again sometime. I believe I will enjoy being on the Cygnus. Thank you for conversing with me."

Lowering his head a little, Bane smiled and closed his eyes, a sign of respect that he had learned about...well, somewhere along the lines in his career in Starfleet, towards the man and his species in front of him, stepped back once, then turned his back and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

Before the man turned away, Maralen reciprocated the gesture of respect, then he watched Bane move off until he vanished among the others milling about the Promenade. The smile remained as Maralen himself turned away to continue his prowling, a soft purr rumbling out of him now.

OFF?


A JP by:

Bane Plase, Captain
USS Cygnus, Commanding

&

Maralen Seitha, Lieutenant
USS Cygnus, Chief Security/Tactical Officer

 

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