Joint Personal Log | LtCmdr Waterhouse, Lt Novak | "I Remember You"

Posted on Sat Sep 13th, 2014 @ 11:30pm by Lieutenant Henry Novak & Commander Amelia Waterhouse

1,841 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Are You Touched?
Location: Qapla' Resort
Timeline: Current

= Qapla' Beach =

When Henry woke up, he thought for a minute he was back home in his grandmother's house on Delta Aquilae. The sound of the ocean filled his ears as he lay quietly in bed, his eyes still closed. When he opened them, he blinked against the bright sunlight that streamed in through the open windows. Qo'noS... he reminded himself. Stretching his limbs, he got out of bed, slipped on a pair of shorts and shuffled over to the replicator.

"Moba juice," he muttered but was greeted a loud obnoxious bark in Klingon from the machine, followed by an error tone. He paused for a moment to consider alternatives and then asked instead for orange juice. This time the replicator complied without protest, but the yellow liquid was slightly warm and somewhat bitter.

Grimacing slightly as he drank it all down, Henry sauntered over to the doorway and gazed out at the beach. He'd opted to stay in one of the bungalows along the beachfront. While it didn't offer much in the way of luxury or superior comfort, it was close to the water and reminded him of home. It was a relief to be away from starship interiors and artificial lighting.

The beach was dotted by a small number of visitors enjoying the morning sun. Some were taking advantage of the waves by taking out surfboards, others by riding on hoverboards deeper out. The rest seemed content with enjoying the rays on the warm sand or dipping their toes in the water.

Amelia had been up late last night — well, every night of leave she'd been up late — but for some reason, she found herself up with the sun this morning. Since she'd found herself lacking solitude so far this leave, she decided to take advantage of this window of opportunity and take a little personal time.

The beach in front of the small row of bungalows was empty, so that's where Amelia made her way in yoga pants and sports bra to do her morning exercise routine. The sand was still cool on her bare feet, the sun hadn't been up long enough to impart much warmth to it yet. She stretched slowly as she considered which of her exercise routines to follow.

Henry sat down on the steps of his bungalow and casually watched as a redheaded woman arrived on the beach and began performing stretch exercises. A flock of squawking colorful birds flew overhead and he gazed up at the formation as it flew by. One straggled behind and flew downwards, landing on the sand a few paces away from Henry.

"You're an interesting looking fellow," Henry said to it, amused by the wayward red plumes on its head and the beady black eyes. It flapped it's bright blue wings and hopped closer, eyeing the glass of juice in Henry's hand. Henry glanced down at it. "Is this what you're after? The juice? You must have a keen sense of smell then."

The bird hopped even closer and Henry laughed at its comical nature. As if offended, the bird suddenly squawked loudly and flew at him, flapping its wings wildly as it clawed at the arm that held the glass. Henry leaped up and yelped, dropping the glass and waving his arms around like a windmill trying to get the bird out of his face. He staggered forward several paces and fell down face-first into the sand, only a few steps from where the redhead had been enjoying the peaceful morning. The bird gave up the fight and retreated with several squawks, leaving Henry red-faced in the sand.

Amelia just about jumped out of her skin at the sound of the bird's squawk, turning quickly to see what the source of the noise was. The flurry of feathers attacking the man made it hard for her to see what was going on, but she moved forward intending to try and help fend off the bird. She only made it a couple steps forward before he'd fallen into the sand. She picked up a rock and chucked it at the bird as it flew off before dropping to her knees to check on the man.

"You okay?"

"Well that was rather embarrassing," Henry said sheepishly as he quickly got up and tried to regain his composure. "Sorry for the disturbance." He brushed the sand off his body; it had gotten everywhere... his arms, his legs, his chest, even his hair.

"No worries," she returned, standing back up herself. "I'm surprised that no one's told the resort owner he should keep pet Targ to scare those damn feathered beasts off. They're such a pest. It didn't break skin, did it?"

Henry looked down at his arm where the bird had left three red scratches. "It doesn't look too serious," he replied. "I'm sure I'll survive. I should've heeded the the old: on Imperial Qo'noS, you do not visit the wildlife, the wildlife visits you." He laughed. "I'm Henry Novak, by the way. Here on shore leave from the USS Vindicator."

"Amelia Waterhouse, Vindicator's XO," she returned with a grin. "You're on helm, right?" She tilted her head slightly. The name sounded familiar, she remembered noting such when she saw him on the ship's roster too.

"Oh prophets-- I mean, sorry ma'am," Henry flustered, mortified that he'd embarrassed himself in front of the XO. "That's right, I'm the new flight control officer. I didn't know you were the XO. I still haven't had a chance to get acquainted with all the staff on board."

"Don't give it a second thought. I'm still learning the crew myself," she insisted.

Henry nodded, grateful for her understanding. He noticed for the first time the light mix of Trill spots and the faint brow ridges that were vaguely Klingon. "Are you related to Admiral Corey Waterhouse by any chance?"

"He's my father," she returned, and she narrowed her gaze at Henry. As she mentally subtracted the beard that graced his face, she realized why his name sounded familiar. "You're Meridian's son, aren't you?"

Henry couldn't help but grin, making him resemble his mother even further. Though his sister Julia inherited Meridian's fiery red hair, Henry inherited her broad smile and strong jaw. It was nice to run into someone who knew who his mother was, not too unlikely since she was a starfleet captain, but still... it was a nice feeling and made him feel less alone so far away from home. His mother had served with Admiral Waterhouse at Utopia Planitia and had often spoken of him fondly. Henry was sure he'd met the man at least once or twice.

"I am her son indeed," Henry said. "This is some coincidence, if you believe in that. I remember you now, you were third or fourth year when I joined the Academy, right? Didn't you go by Pond back then?"

"Fourth year, and I still do... Mostly just with close friends and family now though, it feels a little weird to introduce myself by my nickname now that I'm XO of a Starship, especially one like Vindicator," she returned with a small smile, almost embarrassed. She felt like she was bragging every time she mentioned her position. "Is your mother safe? Well, mothers... they're both fleet right?" With all that was going on with the civil war, Amelia couldn't help but wonder. She knew her parents were fine, but she also knew others weren't.

"Last I heard, yes," Henry replied with a slow nod. "It's been a few weeks, though. Communication's been a bit spotty with everything happening. Adriana's part of the Starfleet delegation on Bajor and Meridian's on the USS Larsen heading towards the Cardassian border. What about your parents? Has your dad moved here with Starfleet Ops?"

"I'm glad you've been in touch, hopefully you'll get another good update soon," Amelia returned with an encouraging smile. "My parents are both at the Qu’Vat shipyards, I got to spend a little time with them both while we were there. We're worried about my brother though... he's not fleet, but who knows what Fed First would do with someone who's related to three Starfleet officers." She sighed. "Hopefully he'll turn up soon, Noah has a way of disappearing and reappearing at random."

"I hope so," Henry nodded in return. "My sister's out on Deep Space 4 and apparently things are pretty quiet that far out, so I hope it stays that way. I don't know that much about politics, but I wish they would just sort this shit out already. The Federation's better than this... at least I like to think so."

"It is... the problem is, there's a smaller group that's playing puppet master," Amelia returned with a head shake. "Last I heard, the fleet is working on taking the head off the serpent so to speak." She sighed, then quickly brightened up. "Maybe we should get dinner to catch up? Maybe the last night of leave?"

"I think I'll leave the politics to the politicians and just stick to what I'm good at... before I get myself into trouble," Henry grinned. "Dinner sounds great, though. It would be a nice way to end off the stay."

"Great. Do you eat Klingon food?" Amelia grinned wide as she asked this. She still hadn't found anyone who appreciated Klingon cuisine to share a meal with this leave.

Henry paused for a minute. He'd had some interesting encounters with Klingon food: some of them pleasant, some very much less so. "Depends on whether it's alive or not. As long as it's cooked properly, I'll give it a try. I've had some heart of targ that was quite tasty. I draw the line at live gagh, though."

"Properly prepared Klingon food isn't cooked," Amelia insisted with a soft sigh. "No matter, I've noticed a few interesting Klingon-Terran fusion restaurants pop up in recent years, we can try one of those. I've heard good things about Targ burgers." She grinned wide.

"Targ burgers it is!" Henry replied with a slight sense of relief. No matter how hard he tried, he'd never have the constitution of a Klingon. He absentmindedly scratched at the welts on his arm where the bird had gotten hold of him and glanced down at it. It wasn't so red anymore but had swollen a bit and was starting to itch. "I should probably get this checked out, just in case."

"Yeah, that doesn't look so good," Amelia frowned. "I won't hold you, but 17:00 that night work for you, meeting in the lobby?"

"That suits me just fine," Henry nodded. "17:00, I'll make a note of it. Enjoy the rest of your morning... hopefully there won't be any further wildlife disturbances."

"You too, hopefully a regenerator will clear that right up," she answered.

"Thanks!" he replied and headed off to the resort to find whatever passed for a medical person at the establishment.

= End Log =

Lt Commander Amelia Waterhouse
Executive Officer
USS Vindicator
-
Lieutenant Henry Novak
Flight Control Officer
USS Vindicator

 

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