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Lunch Bear

Posted on Sat Feb 25th, 2017 @ 7:00am by Lieutenant Amata Zan & Commander Tyro Adina

Mission: Winter Shoreleave
Location: Tranquility, Lounge
Timeline: Transit

:: ON ::

Bae put his hands to the cool surface of the window. Strangers streaked by on the other side, but he looked for constellations in them, his eyes darting from side to side as they went by, captured for only a moment. His mom held him, but he complained when she bounced him since it disturbed his research.

There was no time in space to measure him by, except what the computer claimed. He was thousands of lightyears old, here aboard the starship, in Coco's arms. Everyone mingling in the great hall could look out those windows and find none of their own constellations. Nikoelin whispered to him a happy birthday, though Bae was less than two and older than one. He'd been alive exactly one Bajoran year, however.

Far away, the astrological guardians counciled the Prophets in the Bajoran sky. It was the year of the Bear.

Amata took a sip of his ale. A solemn island making its way through the crowd, the Chief of Security did his best to play his role. As the highest ranking Bajoran aboard, even if there was less than a handful, was to look like he was enjoying himself, or whatever was appropriate appropriate for the situation. In this case he had to smile, with his nose if he remembered, nod, and make sure that his drink wasn't empty. Typically the lieutenant could at least manage the third one, but he had been in space for too many months, and this was the first non-replicated drink he'd managed to get his hands on in half a Bajoran year. In his gratitude, he wasn't going to wonder how the Kava root had been fermented.

Besides, one of the first things the captain had asked him was not to be a hard-case, and the crew deserved a reason to relax.

"He will vomit," warned Amata, approaching mother and child, taking his own spot to stare at the blurring star field, "Eye trying to track something it can track, a brain cannot understand being faster than light."

"You know a lot about children, do you?" the woman grumbled back. She was defensive about her parenting. People on Tranquility seemed to take a lot of issue with her negligent style toward it, and even though she appreciated their assistance, thanking them for the criticism got tiring.

Nikoelin turned and looked at Amata, and her expression changed. She had a blue steak of hair, but was partly bald as well. In a smooth shift Coco bumped her hip against the newcomer by way of apology for her brusqueness.

"Lieutenant~" she teased, rolling all the syllables over her tongue like marbles. "He's a tough little one. I'm Nikeolin. Coco by humans. Have we been met?"

Amata moved with the bump, without moving from his spot. He was dressed in loose, replicated cotton, a white shirt that lacked both sleeves and a collar, and a preferred pair of black training pants. Almost shielding himself with the metal mug in his right hand. Today his hands were bare, they were as tattooed and as harsh as the rest of him, his knuckles were too large. He gave her a quizzled look.

"No, we have not," Amata gestured with his mug, "Miss Nik'olin, the humans once called me Zanboy, but please don't remind them." He made a Bajoran gesture that was meant as an apology, "and yes, more than one would believe, but I know more about space. My first time at warp, I ended up cleaning the viewports with my roommate, the nausea is belayed, similar to a impact to the liver."

"Ah," said Coco, looking down at her boy. She boy a hand over his eyes, and he pawed at it to try getting it out of the way. When he whined a little bit, she stopped and returned her attention to Zanboy.

"It can be a learning experience then," she sighed. "Bring him to an alien New Years and he's more interested in looking out the windows. Today is Bae's Bajoran Birthday. Are you finding it authentic?"

"No," Amata answered, looking towards the crowd of revelers briefly and sounding pleased." Gesturing with his mug vaguly to the other bajorans in the room, he turned back to Coco. "Usually there is more prayer, and a sermon, but none of us are the same sect, different authentic." He half raised his beer in a mock toast before waving, "But all of us have drunk kava root since before we were suppose to."

"Mr. Bae's birthday is more interesting," segue the Bajoran, literally sizing the child up, "If he is a B'havian year, than he is capable of holistic-phrasing as well as universal phoneme distinction, does he employ first consonant-vowel repetition?"

"How do you know so much about children?" returned Coco skeptically. She felt a little inadequate, since even given a moment she had very little idea what he was talking about. "He... talks," she conceded, smiling down at the boy and touching his tummy. Bae started babbling a little, but he stopped when Coco tried to hand him to Amata. She closed the distance between them and nudged the large, muscular man with her arms as the little boy pawed at. He was just as perplexed. Nikoelin was looking over her shoulder periodically though, agitating Zan to hold the child properly.

Behind her, there was a shy clamour from the patrons. An unheard-of danger on the ship was putting many of the officers to animal alertness, but nobody was acting yet on it, afraid they'd be the only one overreacting. A little bit of smoke was filtering through the gap in the galley door, but without a commotion from inside everyone assumed it was harmless...

Coco doubled her efforts to make Amata stop protesting. She said to him, "He's fine, just let him settle on you and support his bum! I need to check Cerra is not collapsed..."

Helpless, Amata let Bae settle on him as Coco rushed away. Once she was out of sight, the Bajoran relented, and faced the child. He studied the child's expressions for a moment and offered him a smile, speaking as gently as he could "I know how to hold you, I was just surprised." With practiced ease, the lieutenant placed his beer on a nearby table, "Usually there is a subspace message before a woman throws a child at me."

Looking around the party, Amata looked for any source of aid, but the best he could find were two of his subordinates, th'Zarath and Tamara, watching in amusement, they would be no help. He looked back at them, hard, before softening his features and continuing to talk to Bae, "If I am lucky, your mother will forget everything I said before Cerra made the clatter." He remembered being better at talking.

Bae was lost in thought, but he didn't seem interested too much in undermining Amata's game in any way. In fact, more than just his subordinates were looking now that Amata had something so innocent and helpless in his arms. Nikoelin, meanwhile, emerged again from the galley. She was helping a staggering Cerra out, and he leaned possessively on her as she did. It took a keen observer to note how much control she was exerting on the man, one arm around his back and a hand clasped on his shoulder. Cerra had indulged himself himself for the holiday, but the man was a high-functioning artist in the kitchen. Pulling with her other arm, Coco carefully wheeled a dolly in the room...

Jiggling atop was the most enormous hesparat anyone had ever seen. Some of it had to have been replicated, like the unnaturally large keevsil mushrooms, but the hulking lump of rolled bread and spicy-smelling stuffing formed the distinct shape of a predatory animal. A bear!

"Yes, yes! It's all for you, my friends!" laughed Cerra, and he hugged his arm around Coco, which almost caused him to fall face first into his creation. The steam? Select portions of the plump dish's surface was charred and blackened, giving it much more ferocity, and the impression of a wild hide. The detailing was exquisite, but Amata was good enough to suspect it probably had come from a phaser. Coco was not visibly displeased, yet stiffer than her usual, relaxed, impartial self. She looked right at Amata, knowing like he did that Cerra probably deserved to be in big trouble, giving the Security Chief a pleading nod to the chef non the less.

"Cerra, you phek," muttered Amata mostly in Bajoran, staring between the chef and his burnt kelos until he caught sight of Coco's nod. Relenting, he returned the it. Switching back to standard the lieutenant confided in the boy, "I'll confiscate Cerra's arm tomorrow," giving Bae a cheerful bounce before walking over to the bread bears, "You need to save your mum."

Bae had been quiet toward the unfolding events and unveiling of Cerra's masterwork. As Amata began to move though, he must have been a little too confident, and the little boy suddenly gurgled, and vomited onto the large man's white shirt.

Amata huffed, almost a chuckling, adjusting his him as he stopped in his tracks. Wiping Bae's mouth with a still clean part of his shirt, or as much as the child would let him, he mumbled something to the boy in Bajoran about starflields and gave him a little bounce before continuing.

::OFF ::

Nikoelin Sar Tasartir
Civilian, USS Tranquility

Amata Zan
Chief of Security
Lieutenant, USS Tranquility


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