To New Beginnings

Posted on Fri May 29th, 2020 @ 10:44pm by Second Mate Quinton Beck & MERCHANT RANKS Kas Shar’zhen (NPC)

1,867 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Meanwhile...
Location: Captains Quarters
Timeline: MD2: 0200

-Start-

{Quinton Beck’s Suite- Deck 3 Statesman Suite}

She stood outside his door, hating the indecision. Othor was sending a steward shortly, so timing, more than anything else forced her to press the wall button. The long corridor had only one doorway, the VIP section of the ship designed for their protection and comfort. Quinton chose the Statesman quarters for himself, from the outside it made sense, he was the captain and should have the nicest quarters after all. Kas knew the real reason, it was isolated and he could be alone.

Alan Beck had been a criminal, and a bad father. This did not preclude him being an important figure in Quinton’s life, and it didn’t mitigate the pain when he left either. Quinton was barely old enough to be considered an adult when Alan disappeared. He was left with a ship and crew, a legacy to fulfill, but mostly paychecks to sign. Now, they were at the front of a machine so vast and complicated she doubted any one person could hold it all together.

This would take more than a crew, it would require family. She had lost her sense of what the family was. They had suffered, and she blamed him out of convenience. The face at the front of a campaign that truthfully they all took equal part in. Quinton had accepted her into his family and never once questioned the placement. After Dures passing and so much destruction about, she had blamed him unfairly, but really she blamed Alan for leaving his son to the wolves.

The doors opened to reveal Quinton Beck, dressed in casual shorts and simple blue t-shirt. Food was cooking behind him, and it smelled wonderful. She realized in an instant this was the first time she had ever seen his quarters since they had lost their previous ship. On their old berth, his small broom closet had been cozy, with a decoration scheme of leather bound books and wooden banisters. Her guilt over the emotional distance compounded and she remembered this was the exact reason for coming here.

“Kas? Are you okay? What brings you here?”

He had a whole suite of smiles, each one tailored for the scene. This one was, I’m smiling to set the mood at ease because I have nothing to go on here.

“I’ve asked Othor to send us a bar. We are drinking.We are long overdue.” She maintained a deadpan expression, just to throw off the scent and play with him.

Quinton blinked, “You’re not serious, Kas we’ve both had a hell of a day, you’ve got family to get back to-”

Kas took a step to pressure her way inward and he backed off to let her. She walked deep inside to his amusement, checking for dust sarcastically and clicking her tongue it wasn't up to imaginary standards. He was a hell of a decorator, rugs overlaid carpet so that the large room had several “areas.” Hanging vines wrapped the large floor to ceiling window which looked into space, lighting came from hidden sources, and floated in the air. Hues of white, blue, brown and black connected the spaces as much as they were divided and highlighted the furniture which served as islands in the large room.

“You didn’t get to keep much from the old ship.” She commented in her usual way, several meanings and weight attached to every word. He had lost almost all of his worldly possessions but she had lost her husband. What he had was carefully tucked away, able to be retrieved from rubble even if the ship suffered major damage. Nothing adorned these walls that was truly sentimental, which was also his way.

“No, most of Alan’s stuff got vented, trackers recovered the important things he wanted to make sure never got lost, but aside from that…. All new.”

Kas stared at him for a beat, she knew he had picked up her subtext but chosen not to comment. It was an opening for her to reveal why she was here.

“You did not kill Dure, Tasco did. You did not sabotage our engines, Corrin did. You were conned, and they tried to kill us.” Her voice caught and a tear welled in her eye, “I’ve blamed you and I shouldn’t. I am sorry, and I missed you.” She let the tear fall, unashamed.

Quinton felt his heart break at her outcry. Kas was not emotional, but this was something he had never seen. He walked to her, eager to make her feel better, “Dear lord, I… Kas... sit down let’s talk, but I gotta pull this off the stove ok?”

Kas nodded, under her tight emotional control again, “Of course, it smells delicious what is it?

Quinton moved several pots as he walked into the kitchen area, “A few of the Terran good luck foods combined, Roasted Pork with Soba noodles, side of lentils in mixed greens, brown eyed peas, Mustard Greens and Cornbread.”

Kas wandered over, rather than sit down. She had wanted to get this done and out of the way but Quinton had a pace he liked to lead the way with. There was far too much for just one person, “Are you expecting company,” she asked?

He smiled the, I’m a young rogue playing a game smile and told her, “I was meeting Othor at the Jolly Rogers with a to-go plate, but he could just as easily come get it. You hungry?”

He was setting terms, if she wanted to bring drinks, he would supply food, as always. Their kinship in this had gone way back to when he was a simple crewman, working the galley. He didn’t drink as much as sip, but the memories of sweet drink and savory food were favorites.

She sat at the bar, several barstool arrayed over a short leaf descending from the Kitchen island. She sat nearest to where he was working, “I’d imagine Othor is aware you won't be coming to see him. I asked to send a Steward with a VIP tray, some option he is offering people on board. It seems quite lavish.”
He had no idea what that meant but Othor usually did a great job with such things. He pulled on an oven mitt to rotate the pan with the bread, pulling it out so she could see.

“Well then his portion becomes yours. It’s great to have you here Kas.”

His smile, I love that you’re here, but I am still worried for the other shoe to drop

She replied, “It has been too long.”

She continued looking around, the large space had been used partially for his creative passion, holonovels. He was an amatuer writer, and knew it too. This was just for himself to indulge in recreation privately, another solo outlet for the introverted captain.

She left the silence as it was, a hallmark of two people who are comfortable enough not to fill the void immediately. Time passed as he finished several dishes, Kas saw the shining discs and remembered from their old ship, “Is this, the… jukboks?”

He looked where she glanced, the jukebox sat in the corner, unremarkable. It was his fathers, containing a lifelong collection of songs physically engraved into a vinyl disc. There was fire and soot damage evident, this was no replica. He answered her, a touch more sadness than he realized to the memory. As a child he had loved to watch the mechanics, listen to the physical sounds of the needle on vinyl. Alan would forget to be a bastard for just a moment, however long the song lasted. This was an odd recall for him, being one of the few cherished memories he had.

“Yes, it was intact surprisingly, one of the few things to survive that day.”

Quinton was getting to business now too. She felt the firm hand pulling her gaze from the inner workings of his life. It was time to settle their issues, and she hoped to do so peaceably.

“About what I was starting to say-”

“Try this.” He interrupted her gently, but the intent was clear. He didn't want her to roll into this conversation until it was time. Soba noodles wrapped around a fork, with a piece of pork on the tines to hold it all. She eyed him with a rueful playfulness, trusting he would say what he had to say soon enough.

She took the fork, and food on it, without ceremony. Marinated meats on succulent sweet pasta were delectable across the galaxy, here was no exception. He was a good cook, her hunger grew upon eating that morsel. Andorian cuisine used far more seasoning though, “Needs more spice.”

“Oh no, can’t fool me with that icy tongue. I’ve tried Avors Vegetable Stew. I clawed the latrine walls and screamed bloody revenge on him for three days.”

Kas giggled, “That was a dish for the children, come now Quinton.”

He flashed another smile, Sheepish, not sheepish at her. “I’ll add some ghost pepper salt to yours.”

Kas walked to the Jukebox, the songs were all Terran and she had no clue which one to put on. There was one title, her eyes saw it in Terran Anglish, as “Starman.” Believing it was cute, she pushed the buttons with practiced ease. Music began, a certain rasping quality to the stylus on the vinyl accompanied the visual aspect of the jukebox. She watched the process with great satisfaction, following mechanical precision to produce spiritual medium.

“Judah, put Major Tom next. Keep to the theme.” Quinton called from the kitchen. Kas crossed over to return to her seat near Quinton but stopped as the door chime sounded. She instead went to the door. It revealed a steward, dressed in a dark green vest over all black attire. The tray they held contained recipes and ingredients for dozens of potential drink mixes, garnishes and serving glasses. The steward held it impassively, despite the weight, and Kas ushered him inside to set it on the Captains dining table.

The steward set up the presentation, and performed a few minutes of zesting citrus, forming bitters, and chilling the stemware. Once he was done with this ritual, he stood by the service, and asked, “Courtesy of the Master Steward, and his congratulations for a successful launch. Will there be anything else you require captain?”

Quntion looked it over, “I don’t know what any of this is. But it’s pretty, so, thank you.”

The steward was far too professional to show disdain, but Kas liked to think expressing it nonverbally was part of their skillset. She gently shook her head, “No, that will be all thank you.”

Kas was also daunted at the depth of the tray. She had mixed a fair drink in her day, but this was a form of science. She grabbed the Bajoran honied wine, pouring two small glasses. She gave one to Quinton, and offered a small toast, “To the Second Star, past and present.”

TBC...

 

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