Cascade – Table for Two
by Commander Rakka & Lieutenant JG Petro
Post Details
ON:
The holographic program initiated, Rakka and Petro found themselves several thousand feet aloft. A quaint table setup was placed on the patio of a rustic chalet situated atop a snowy peak. The sound of the wind was both unsettling and beautiful; snow flurries danced in great antic swirls. Meanwhile, the temperature had been carefully adjusted, and it felt impossibly comfortable for the visual climate.
"I like it," said Rakka.
The first thing Petro did was to look over the railing. "Wow, that's high." She turned her attention back to the table trying not to think of the height. Slowly she looked around and took in the swirls of white that danced around. She smiled and watched as a particular flurry whirled about up and over head. "It is beautiful."
Rakka silently admired the landscape for a while, and then took a seat as their food and drink orders rose up through the table. She immediately took several swigs of bloodwine. She didn't usually drink around Petro, but things around the station had been tense, and the Nausicaan was more than ready for a drink. A lot of drinks.
Petro slowly sipped her drink, watching as her friend downed hers. "Thirsty?"
The Nausicaan sighed, staring into the bottle. "You could say that," she murmured, and shifted her eyes to her friend. "Things have been... bad... in Security. Trellis hates me so badly... he's nearly lost his head."
The J'Naii nodded. "Perhaps he doesn't hate you. I mean, if his head is not securely attached to his neck it can cause considerable discomfort."
Rakka cocked her head, searching for a way to interpret that last comment. She finally just dismissed it. "Honestly, though... he despises me. He's given up even trying to hide it. Not that I'm terribly fond of him either, but... gods, I'm trying!" She took another deep swig. "I can't work with that man... I can't. I can't do it. I don't have any... diplomacy. And I'm wearing short on patience. Dear gods, how I wish I could be more like you! Do you know, Petro, you're one of precious few people around here that finds anything remotely redeeming in me. People must wonder what in all hells you're doing spending time with me."
"I don't know why others don't." Petro said. "Some people just have to hate things they don't understand. You're one of the most patient people I know and you have a strength that astounds me." She reached across the table and rested her hand on her friends. "Maybe I can talk to this bridge person for you."
Rakka gazed down at the tiny hand on hers and wished she could live up to the way Petro viewed her. "Trellis," she said absently. "Lieutenant Trellis. And I don't think you ought to interfere. He'll think I put you up to it and he'll only think worse of me, probably." She continued gazing at Petro's hand, and she felt a sense of paranoia creeping up on her. "Do you still like living with me? Is it all right? You can be honest if anything isn't working for you. I want you to be happy. I want to... m... make you happy."
"I'm very happy." Petro said, uncertain what her friend was implying. "Are you not happy? Do you need more space? I can make arrangements for a larger apartment if you want."
"No, that's not it!" Rakka said quickly. "I like our... our home. If there's any moment in my life I feel something close to happy... it's because of you. I guess I just keep on worrying that... one day... you'll realize I'm not so strong. And not so patient. And maybe... not so good at all."
"It'll be that day that I'll have to wonder if I'm not so patient or so good." Petro countered. "You're a great roommate. You don't make a mess that you don't clean up. You light up the place just by being there. It was lonely and cold before. Now it has some decoration and, um, personality."
Rakka felt a glowing sense of contentment at this. It was no wonder Petro was more special to her than anyone else in the world. Who else would think of the Nausicaan as a bringer of warmth and light? "Let's be together always," she whispered, placing her other hand over Petro's.
"Always." Petro repeated Rakka's sentiment. Something ached within her chest and she knew it was an emotional flood. She straightened and picked up her fork and knife, cutting into the slab of meat in front of her.
"I heard there were several casualties from the promenade incident." She said. "Any clues left behind?"
"Wha...?" Rakka grunted, startled by the sudden subject change after what had seemed like an extremely important statement. Petro's hand leaving hers felt like it had severed something. "I... I don't want to talk about that!"
"Okay." Petro relented. She was still bothered by the way Trellis treated her. It wasn't like Rakka was a bad person or anything. She set her utensils down and looked at Rakka. "I can beat him up for you if you want."
The mental picture this suggestion created afforded the Nausicaan a rare moment of amusement, and an even greater feeling of affection for the little J'naii. "Thank you," she said, "but I don't think that will be necessary." Rakka looked down at the tempting platter of meat in front of her that should have had her salivating and dilated her pupils, but all of a sudden she couldn't work up a desire for it. Her mind was busy, and there were so many conflicting emotions roiling in the pit of her stomach, there didn't seem to be room for food.
"Petro..." she said, as softly as Nausicaan can, "what are we? I mean... if people ask you what I am to you... what would your answer be? Friend?"
The J'Naii smiled and reached across the table to touch Rakka's hand once again. "You are my other half." she said. "I'm empty and lost without you. You're my best friend and nothing less."
"Other half..." Rakka sighed thoughtfully. "That's... perfect." At last she felt quelled enough to be hungry, and she picked up her fork, using it merely as a lever to get the slab of meat on her platter closer to her mouth. "You know," she said, after they had eaten in silence for a little while, "Starfleet is almost always... high-risk occupation. Security... especially so. If I am killed... you would need to find another... other half. Do you ever think about that?"
Her response was sharp and short. "No." What kind of question was that to ask? How do you replace your other half? It was nonsensical.
Rakka looked up from her meat. "So... if something did happen to me... you would just... be alone?"
"I suppose." Petro replied, "What about you? What would you do if something happened to me? How do you answer the question when others ask what I am to you?"
Rakka shrugged. "No one's ever asked me. People don't find me... approachable. But if someone does ask... I wanted to make sure we weren't giving different answers. If one of us thinks we're friends, and one of us thinks we're... um... like 'mates'... that would be... strange and uncomfortable. So... that's why I asked you." She pushed the bloody meat around on her plate idly. "If you died... I don't know. I don't think there would be much for me to decide... because I think the world would end anyway. Just... cease to exist. Because there can't be a world without you in it."
Petro sighed, "If only it were that easy," she said, recalling the way that she felt when Rakka left her before. How she felt wondering around the galaxy with no one to share her adventures with. The hunger for companionship from someone that wasn't after anything from her. "But life does go on." She wiped a tear from her eye.
Rakka noticed the tear and immediately left her chair, kneeling next to Petro and embracing her, nuzzling her ridged forehead into Petro's soft neck. There were words in her mouth that wanted to come out, and she had fought them for so long. They were stupid words, weak words, woefully inadequate words, and she had promised herself she would never get caught in this trap. She was terrified it would be just another farce. Everyday words were not good enough for Petro. But what else was there? The words pushed and pushed, and like a hatching bird they had to come out. It felt as much like an admission of defeat as it did empowerment.
"I love you!" she burst out. "I'm sorry--it's such a stupid word! It's not enough! I just can't... I can't find anything better. I'm not even sure I know what it means. But I just had to say it."
"I love you too." Petro whispered, choked on her own emotions and the display which Rakka had shown her. It was more than she could have imagined and despite the hardness of the Nausicaan's tusks and skin, Petro had never been more comfortable.
OFF
Cdr Rakka
Security Consultant/Trainer
DS5
&
Lieutenant JG Petro
Communications / Quartermaster
by Commander Rakka & Lieutenant JG Petro
Post Details
| Title | Table for Two | |
| Mission | Cascade | |
| Author(s) | Commander Rakka & Lieutenant JG Petro | |
| Posted | Mon Apr 08, 2013 @ 11:39pm | |
| Location | Endeavor | |
| Timeline | SD71 1945ish, after "Grand Opening" |
The holographic program initiated, Rakka and Petro found themselves several thousand feet aloft. A quaint table setup was placed on the patio of a rustic chalet situated atop a snowy peak. The sound of the wind was both unsettling and beautiful; snow flurries danced in great antic swirls. Meanwhile, the temperature had been carefully adjusted, and it felt impossibly comfortable for the visual climate.
"I like it," said Rakka.
The first thing Petro did was to look over the railing. "Wow, that's high." She turned her attention back to the table trying not to think of the height. Slowly she looked around and took in the swirls of white that danced around. She smiled and watched as a particular flurry whirled about up and over head. "It is beautiful."
Rakka silently admired the landscape for a while, and then took a seat as their food and drink orders rose up through the table. She immediately took several swigs of bloodwine. She didn't usually drink around Petro, but things around the station had been tense, and the Nausicaan was more than ready for a drink. A lot of drinks.
Petro slowly sipped her drink, watching as her friend downed hers. "Thirsty?"
The Nausicaan sighed, staring into the bottle. "You could say that," she murmured, and shifted her eyes to her friend. "Things have been... bad... in Security. Trellis hates me so badly... he's nearly lost his head."
The J'Naii nodded. "Perhaps he doesn't hate you. I mean, if his head is not securely attached to his neck it can cause considerable discomfort."
Rakka cocked her head, searching for a way to interpret that last comment. She finally just dismissed it. "Honestly, though... he despises me. He's given up even trying to hide it. Not that I'm terribly fond of him either, but... gods, I'm trying!" She took another deep swig. "I can't work with that man... I can't. I can't do it. I don't have any... diplomacy. And I'm wearing short on patience. Dear gods, how I wish I could be more like you! Do you know, Petro, you're one of precious few people around here that finds anything remotely redeeming in me. People must wonder what in all hells you're doing spending time with me."
"I don't know why others don't." Petro said. "Some people just have to hate things they don't understand. You're one of the most patient people I know and you have a strength that astounds me." She reached across the table and rested her hand on her friends. "Maybe I can talk to this bridge person for you."
Rakka gazed down at the tiny hand on hers and wished she could live up to the way Petro viewed her. "Trellis," she said absently. "Lieutenant Trellis. And I don't think you ought to interfere. He'll think I put you up to it and he'll only think worse of me, probably." She continued gazing at Petro's hand, and she felt a sense of paranoia creeping up on her. "Do you still like living with me? Is it all right? You can be honest if anything isn't working for you. I want you to be happy. I want to... m... make you happy."
"I'm very happy." Petro said, uncertain what her friend was implying. "Are you not happy? Do you need more space? I can make arrangements for a larger apartment if you want."
"No, that's not it!" Rakka said quickly. "I like our... our home. If there's any moment in my life I feel something close to happy... it's because of you. I guess I just keep on worrying that... one day... you'll realize I'm not so strong. And not so patient. And maybe... not so good at all."
"It'll be that day that I'll have to wonder if I'm not so patient or so good." Petro countered. "You're a great roommate. You don't make a mess that you don't clean up. You light up the place just by being there. It was lonely and cold before. Now it has some decoration and, um, personality."
Rakka felt a glowing sense of contentment at this. It was no wonder Petro was more special to her than anyone else in the world. Who else would think of the Nausicaan as a bringer of warmth and light? "Let's be together always," she whispered, placing her other hand over Petro's.
"Always." Petro repeated Rakka's sentiment. Something ached within her chest and she knew it was an emotional flood. She straightened and picked up her fork and knife, cutting into the slab of meat in front of her.
"I heard there were several casualties from the promenade incident." She said. "Any clues left behind?"
"Wha...?" Rakka grunted, startled by the sudden subject change after what had seemed like an extremely important statement. Petro's hand leaving hers felt like it had severed something. "I... I don't want to talk about that!"
"Okay." Petro relented. She was still bothered by the way Trellis treated her. It wasn't like Rakka was a bad person or anything. She set her utensils down and looked at Rakka. "I can beat him up for you if you want."
The mental picture this suggestion created afforded the Nausicaan a rare moment of amusement, and an even greater feeling of affection for the little J'naii. "Thank you," she said, "but I don't think that will be necessary." Rakka looked down at the tempting platter of meat in front of her that should have had her salivating and dilated her pupils, but all of a sudden she couldn't work up a desire for it. Her mind was busy, and there were so many conflicting emotions roiling in the pit of her stomach, there didn't seem to be room for food.
"Petro..." she said, as softly as Nausicaan can, "what are we? I mean... if people ask you what I am to you... what would your answer be? Friend?"
The J'Naii smiled and reached across the table to touch Rakka's hand once again. "You are my other half." she said. "I'm empty and lost without you. You're my best friend and nothing less."
"Other half..." Rakka sighed thoughtfully. "That's... perfect." At last she felt quelled enough to be hungry, and she picked up her fork, using it merely as a lever to get the slab of meat on her platter closer to her mouth. "You know," she said, after they had eaten in silence for a little while, "Starfleet is almost always... high-risk occupation. Security... especially so. If I am killed... you would need to find another... other half. Do you ever think about that?"
Her response was sharp and short. "No." What kind of question was that to ask? How do you replace your other half? It was nonsensical.
Rakka looked up from her meat. "So... if something did happen to me... you would just... be alone?"
"I suppose." Petro replied, "What about you? What would you do if something happened to me? How do you answer the question when others ask what I am to you?"
Rakka shrugged. "No one's ever asked me. People don't find me... approachable. But if someone does ask... I wanted to make sure we weren't giving different answers. If one of us thinks we're friends, and one of us thinks we're... um... like 'mates'... that would be... strange and uncomfortable. So... that's why I asked you." She pushed the bloody meat around on her plate idly. "If you died... I don't know. I don't think there would be much for me to decide... because I think the world would end anyway. Just... cease to exist. Because there can't be a world without you in it."
Petro sighed, "If only it were that easy," she said, recalling the way that she felt when Rakka left her before. How she felt wondering around the galaxy with no one to share her adventures with. The hunger for companionship from someone that wasn't after anything from her. "But life does go on." She wiped a tear from her eye.
Rakka noticed the tear and immediately left her chair, kneeling next to Petro and embracing her, nuzzling her ridged forehead into Petro's soft neck. There were words in her mouth that wanted to come out, and she had fought them for so long. They were stupid words, weak words, woefully inadequate words, and she had promised herself she would never get caught in this trap. She was terrified it would be just another farce. Everyday words were not good enough for Petro. But what else was there? The words pushed and pushed, and like a hatching bird they had to come out. It felt as much like an admission of defeat as it did empowerment.
"I love you!" she burst out. "I'm sorry--it's such a stupid word! It's not enough! I just can't... I can't find anything better. I'm not even sure I know what it means. But I just had to say it."
"I love you too." Petro whispered, choked on her own emotions and the display which Rakka had shown her. It was more than she could have imagined and despite the hardness of the Nausicaan's tusks and skin, Petro had never been more comfortable.
OFF
Cdr Rakka
Security Consultant/Trainer
DS5
&
Lieutenant JG Petro
Communications / Quartermaster