Lunch Pale

Posted on 12 Nov 2016 @ 1:25am by Master Chief Petty Officer Daytona Ral & Lieutenant Claire Annette

Mission: Prelude; Breakfast at Curmudgeon's
Location: Backwater Gulch
Timeline: Mission Day -2 Mid-day

ON

Daytona and Claire entered the Backwater Gulch. There was a spot with a view of the stars, so, after their conversation about stargazing, they took the table by the transparent aluminum windows. A waitress came over with menus.

"Can I get you guys anything to drink while you looks these over?" she asked.

"Ladies first," Daytona said.

"Lavender intrigue, please," Claire replied, taking the menu.

"A mug of Andorian Ale, please," he said. He opened the menu and started to look. "And I'm ready to order if that's okay."

"Sure, sweetie," the waitress said. "What can I get you?"

"A bowl of lormack stew would be great," he said. "With a small baguette on the side."

"Sure thing," the waitress replied. She turned to Claire. "How about you, hon? You know what you want?"

Claire didn't need to open the menu to know what she wanted. "Taco salad, sauces and creams on the side, please."

The waitress took the menus back.

"Sure thing, hon," she said to Claire. "Be back with your drinks in a sec."

"So," Daytona said after the waitress left. "What's a classy lady like you doing in a ginjoint like Starfleet?"

"Would you believe me if I said I wanted to do my part to uphold law and order?" Claire asked, resting her hands on the table and leaning forward slightly.

"Uhm...Maybe?" Daytona replied. "Do you feel like you upheld a lot of law and order so far? I have a quite a bit of experience with law and order and it's never seemed to be very black and white. It wasn't when I was civilian police and it hasn't been in Starfleet, either. Though, if I had to say one was more black and white than the other, I would have to say it's Starfleet."

"I'd have to agree. That's one of the reasons I left the civilian force at my colony and joined Starfleet, actually. I felt like there was nothing I could do about the corruption." Claire said with a slight sigh.

Daytona nodded in agreement.

"Tell me about it," he said. "Rigelians share Rigel V with not only the Kaylar, who thankfully weren't my problem as a city cop, but also a large population of Orions. With Orions come the merchant clans, known as the caju, and the Orion Syndicate. Many of the caju have connections to the Syndicate, both because it's lucrative and because you can't really do serious business in Orion society without having some connection to the Syndicate. The Syndicate offered substantial 'additional income' to city inspectors, council members, and of course, cops. It was very hard to steer clear of corruption. I never participated, but there were times where I had to just keep my mouth shut and live to fight another day. I take it you maybe had a similar experience?"

"Almost to the letter, actually." Claire groaned inwardly - it seemed they'd had similar experiences through and through. "At least the Syndicate hasn't infiltrated Starfleet, right?"

Daytona winced.

"Uhm...well," he said. "Believe it or not I've caught the Syndicate nosing around in Starfleet operations before. My ex-wife used to...heck, still does tell me horror stories from her work in Starfleet Intelligence. How do you think the Syndicate manages to stay, at least much of the time, one or two steps ahead of our intelligence and security services? Same way they do with the civilian authorities: Pay offs. We like to think that we are above money, but even in the Federation there are places where a little latium goes a long way towards having a better life."

Claire really did groan this time. "That's deplorable. There has to be better ways of making money if you need it. And we need to be one step ahead of them, not them ahead of us. What's wrong with people? Is greed really still that big in this age?"

"This really gets to you, huh?" Daytona said. "Between money and drugs and sex, there are plenty of ways for the Syndicate to get the information they need. But before you start to think that Starfleet is full of deviants, I should tell you that the Syndicate can get a lot from open source intelligence and from working sources who don't even know they are being worked. Observation of fleet movements, supply lines, newsfeeds, idle talk in a cantina, things like that can provide as much intelligence as a bribe or blackmail and with much less risk."

Claire nodded and relented. "Yeah that's true. The same tactics we use they use as well. I just wish we had the upper hand, is all."

The waitress arrived with their drinks.

"Sorry for the wait," she said. "I'll be back with your food in a moment."

Daytona held up his glass.

"Cheers!" he said. He'd been around Starfleet long enough to know a bit about human custom.

"Cheers," Claire replied, lifting her fru-fru drink before sipping from it.

Daytona to a drink.

"Well," he said. "That hits the spot. That's...uhm...very purple."

Claire made a slightly scrunched up face as the taste hit her tongue - the opposite reaction most people have when drinking their favorite drink. "Thanks, it's mostly wine and tulaberry juice with a spritz of teak sap and an umbrella for good measure. It's a bit bitter but I like it."

"To each their own," Daytona said. "Actually, that sounds pretty good. So, how long have you been out of the Academy? And, for that matter, how long were you a civilian cop before joining Starfleet?"

"Only two years as a Volunteer Self Defence Force Officer. Then I joined Starfleet and graduated ten years ago. This is my fourth ship." Taking another sip of her drink, Claire waved her free hand at Daytona. "If you ever get an offer to serve on the SS Sanity's End, don't. It's a freaking floating sanitarium and unless you like manhandling mental patients all day..."

"I didn't think they had any psychiatric hospital ships," Daytona replied. "You learn something new everyday. I suppose someone's got to do that work. If they send me I'll say 'aye, aye,' and go do the job, but it sounds like it would tough. Were they violent much? Or just recalcitrant?

"I was in charge of the 'restraint' team, meaning I was one of the ones that had to make sure the most violent ones were restrained enough to not hurt the doctors. I've had my collarbone broken more than once on that job..." Claire replied before taking a loooong drink of her purple stuff.

Daytona made a sympathetic face.

"That hurts," he said. "I flubbed a landing at the end of an orbital jump and broke the same bone. Wow did that hurt. Luckily it was only a training jump. If it had been a mission, I'd have been in serious trouble. Was that your last assignment before this one? If it was, this assignment must be a relief."

Claire nodded as she sucked on her drink. "Yeah. Three years of being shit on, literally. I never want to do that again, but I'm coded now so I might get sent to a similar posting. What about you? What's your worst posting?"

"Well," Daytona replied. "Laying aside being left behind on Chintoka during the closing days of the Dominion War, which was by far my worst posting, I'd have to say my first posting as a Master-At-Arms/Crewman. I joined Starfleet to get away from police work and they threw me back into it. Worse, as a civilian cop I'd been a Detective Sergeant. After joining Starfleet I was back walking a beat or, more often, guarding some restricted area. I dealt with that for two years before I was accepted into special operations. Twenty-eight years later I got myself dumped back into Security. This time around, though, I kind of figured out how to make the best of it."

"That's good at least. You're pretty much at the top of the pile too, so you'll have your own office and desk. Nothing impressive, I'm sure, but at least it's yours." Claire took another sip of her drink, glancing out the big windows into space and nodding to it. "And our offices have a fairly decent view, too. Blast shutters and all."

There food arrived and was set before them.

"Would either of you like a refill?" the waitress asked.

"I'll take a mint lemonade," Daytona said. "I think one of these, even the synthale version, is enough in the middle of the day."

"Sure thing, sweetie," the waitress replied. She turned her attention to Claire. "What about you, doll?"

"Another lavender intrigue, please," Claire replied with a polite smile. She did look like a porcelain doll, what with her albinism and all but drawn on features so she didn't mind being called it now and then, but it still struck her as unusual to say the least. Either way, once the waitress had headed off for their refills, she started dumping the side items into her taco salad and fluffing it through.

Daytona ate a spoonful of his stew.

"That's pretty damn good," he said. He grinned. "A room with a view, huh? Well, that'll mean I won't miss my old office on SB195 as much. So, tell me more. Shop talk if you want, personal stuff if your of a mind to share."

Claire thought about it a moment as she took a bite of her taco salad. "Well...We're gearing up just in case we fight the Borg. That's always fun. That includes bladed weapons and gunpowder based guns. Have you ever fired an actual gun before? They tend to kick pretty hard and our younger troops keep holding them like a phaser and getting hit in the head by them."

"I've used the TR-116 and it's variants," Daytona said. "Carbines, DMRs, Sniper rifle configuration, etc. The TR-117 pistol, too. I've done a little shooting with antique 21st century guns. As for the Borg, I've trained to fight them, and I remember my training, but I've never actually fought them. Both times they attacked Sector 001 my unit was too far away and, frankly, SEALs aren't a lot of use in a space battle, except many as a boarding party."

"Excellent. One less person for me to train." Claire replied before taking a few more bites. "We have the TR-119A in the armory as well. I plan on carrying a slugcaster with me since I used one before I joined. I'm familiar with them and can relatively safely use them."

"I can help train our folks on the projectile guns," Daytona said. "I was planning on running Visit, Board, Search, and Seizure and Boarding Team training regularly, rotating all the Security personnel through it, along with a few other staff like a certain number of Corpsmen, Engineers, Ops personnel, etc. Anyone who might be required to board a hostile or hostile controlled vessel. With your permission, of course."

"You can take over the program I'm trying to implement. Get with Chety to see what he's gotten done so far and we can go from there." Claire was happy she had more people on board with that plan. "And be sure to train them in Hirogen and Undine tactics too, just in case. Them and the Borg are likely the three biggest threats we might face."

"I'm no that familiar with Delta Quadrant races," Daytona admited. "But I did participate in a few conference on tactics based on the information Voyager brought back with them. We came up with training plans, went through them ourselves, and then passed the training down to our staffs. I thnk I can come up with a training plan for both Security and other departments. Lot of unknowns for me, at least there's a significant lack of first hand knowledge and experience, but I can work with that"

"First hand knowledge and experience is something we do need, but I hope we never get. Seriously, if we never come up against any of these species at all, I'll be all too happy." Claire declared before digging into her taco salad again.

"I never know whether or not I'm lying to myself when I say something like that," Daytona replied. "I mean, I know that I boring day for me, whether it was back when I was cop, or a SEAL, or now that I'm back in Security, means that everyone in my care is having a good day. Still, part of me is still a bit of an adrenalin junkie. Don't get me wrong. I'd never start trouble just because I was bored, but I can't deny that I like some action when I can get it. Erm...that sounded different in my head. You get what I meant, though, right?"

"You're looking for validation for all the training you've done. I'm the same way. Holodeck training and paperwork is all fine and everything, but you want to know how you'll actually react in a real situation." Claire extrapolated.

Daytona nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "You get it. Now I don't feel so bad for getting a little thrill when I prove I've still got it, whether that's VBSS gone sideways, or Boarding Team work on hostile controlled vessels, or Away Team missions gone awry. Thankfully, as I said, I'm not such an action junkie that I'd start something just to get some action...er...have some fun...I mean...ah, you know what I mean! I'm not a loose cannon, and for the Prime Number's sake don't take that one wrong either!"

Daytona grinned broadly at that. Most likely it was just him finding double entendres in his statements, but it was still funny...to him anyway.

Claire nodded and ate a bit more of her taco salad. She didn't catch any double entendres or puns or anything in his words. She was just enjoying the company and the meal but soon paused in her eating to converse again. "So... What do you think of the ship so far? Something else, isn't she?"

Daytona finished chewing and swallowed, then responded.

"Believe it or not," he said. "I've never actually been on a Sovereign Class before. You're right. It is pretty impressive. Top of the line tech, as far as I can tell. Starfleet has really gone all out maintaining these things and keeping the Sovereigns up to date, at least this one, anyway. What do you think of Captain Crustacean? He struck me as someone who suffers the discomfort of a permanent case of hemorroids and takes it out on oithers. I'll deny that if quioted."

"I think... That he's got a lot of experience and it's made him bitter and jaded." Claire responded somewhat tactfully. "He gave me the nickname 'sunshine' as soon as he met me. I think it might be because i'm so pale since I'm not normally the bright cheery type. Did he give you a nickname?"

"Nope!" Daytona said. "I'm not sure what to make of that. Maybe I didn't make that much of an impression on him. I hope I'm not that grouchy when I'm his age. I'll give him the benefit of the doubt that he's earned the right to be crotchety."

Daytona regarded Claire a moment.

"You don't seem all that much of a downer to me," he said. "Though I suppose if you dressed in all black, bagging clothes that hid you, wore your make-up just right, and pouted a lot...well, maybe frowned a lot is better. You're probably cute when you pout. Anyway, in those circumstances I might consider you a bit of a downer, but not the way you are now. Actually, a Human superior of mine on my first assignment with the SEALs gave me the callsign 'Racetrack' apparently because there used to be a famous racetrack in Daytona, Florida, or what used to be Florida, before the Xindi attack. Florida was southern most area of the southeast quadrant of North America. I only know that because I looked it up after I was given that callsign."

"Right, NASCAT or whatever it was called," Claire replied, waving her fork a bit to punctuate her point. "That makes sense at least."

Daytona grinned.

"I think they raced primative automoblies with combustion engines," he said. "Called them 'cars' I think. I think the it might have been called 'NASCAR', but I'm not certain. The idea of racing domestic felines is amusing though. I suppose you'd have to send a wind up mechanical rodent down the track and hope that the cats chase it. Even then, some of them might just look at with a confused or disinterested expresion on their faces."

Daytona finished off the last of his stew and washed it down with mint lemonade. He didn't move to leave, though. He hadn't really taken over as Chief Master-At-Arms yet, so there was no work waiting for him that had to get done immediately. Besides, the company was good.

Claire nodded as she took the last few bites of her taco salad. Cars made more sense, but she couldn't help but giggle at the thought of anyone trying to race cats of any species. Across the universe they were notoriously obstinate and self reliant. "Yeah, I think we're going to get along marvelously well," she commented before downing the rest of her drink.

"I agree," Daytona said. "Well, thanks for the company! I should get going, though. I need to finish getting settled in so I can start work tomorrow. This was great, really."

"Good luck," Claire replied, standing and straightening her uniform top. "I should get back to that paperwork as well. So much to do, it's ridiculous."

"Well," Daytona said. "If I get to work in the morning and I find a pair of boots sticking out from under a pile of PaDDs, I'll put you in for a posthumous purple heart. May I walk you back to the office?"

Daytona offered his arm to Claire.

"Of course," Claire replied with a slight grin as she hooked one hand around Daytona's elbow.

"And we're off..." Daytona said as they left the Backwater Gulch and headed back to the brig.

OFF