Joint Duty Log - Capn Ivanova, LtCmdr Waterhouse, LtCmdr Neyes, Krogoth - "Tip Toe Through the Tulips"
Posted on Thu Oct 2nd, 2014 @ 10:21am by Commander Amelia Waterhouse & Admiral Rochelle Ivanova & Commander Tristan Neyes PhD. & Krogoth
2,830 words; about a 14 minute read
Mission: Are You Touched?
Having a Klingon aboard a Federation vessel was never a comforting thing for a Captain. Lucky for Rochelle, however, Krogoth seemed to have been well schooled in diplomacy. No one had been thrown through a wall, After Dark hadn't lost any glasses or liquor displays, and no one had been sent to the infirmary with any injuries caused by their notoriously rowdy guest. Once this was all said and over, she'd thank her lucky stars for the small miracle.
That tide, of course, may likely change with the coming days and weeks laying ahead of them as they orbited the unnamed planet.
"I couldn't help but notice how close we are to Khitomer." Krogoth spoke, looking out the viewport at the glowing planet below. "I assume you know all of the history behind that planet's significance with Starfleet?" He asked, looking over at the tiny human woman as they both waited for the other members of her congregation to arrive.
"Considering he now serves on your council, I highly doubt Worf would appreciate you bringing up that portion of history." The redhead smiled sweetly in response, her hands folded neatly in front of her while she stood in watch.
The Klingon's laughter roared, his head tilting back with his amusement. She was all fire. "You both share common enemies within the Klingon Empire." He grinned, "I'm sure he'll be tickled by the way you handled Duras. That story has run wild throughout the high council." His hand sliced through the air quickly as he excitedly accentuated his words.
"Of that I have no doubt." Rochelle couldn't help but chuckle at the memory circulating around how she'd handled Ch'grath in the bar that night. It was a wonder the other Klingon was still alive given how their honor system worked. Then again the house of Duras had never been known to be honorable. Ever. The sound of the doors hissing open announced the arrival of the other members of the meeting and the Captain graciously gestured to the chairs surrounding the table, prompting Krogoth to claim one.
Amelia arrived a couple minutes early. Cecil hadn't warned her of this meeting early enough to be her customary ten minutes early, so she settled for three. She smiled to find Krogoth in good spirits as she entered the ready room. Cecil had told her their Klingon babysitter was in a foul mood. She hadn't encountered Krogoth, other than in an official capacity, since his arrival on the ship, so she'd had nothing else to go on. All she could figure is that Cecil had little experience with Klingons.
"Afternoon," she said, taking a seat. She could have opted for a more Klingon greeting, but that would have pushed them straight into the meeting. She wasn't in a rush to discuss her brother's mess.
Tristan entered the room with a PaDD and the seemingly traditional mug of hot beverage. He had noted how frequently something similar graced the hands of the senior staff, and often found himself wondering if there was some sort of oral fixation shared between them all. For him, it was a matter of calming his nerve. The sight of the Klingon wasn't jarring, but it kindled the fire of memories he didn't know he had. Everything seemed to, actually.
"Greetings, everyone." Neyes said gently, taking his customary seat.
"Glad we're all here." Rochelle smiled and waited for everyone to be seated before she took her own seat at the head of the table. "There's been a few developments that are likely to be of interest to the Klingon Empire," She began, turning on a PADD sitting on the table.
Krogoth grunted at the two others, his interesting mainly residing in the two redheads he knew to be in control of the ship, as he sat and began to listen to what the Captain had to say. "Oh? Klingons aren't noted for their patience, you don't need to do your usual little diplomatic song and dance routine for me, Captain Ivanova."
She smiled, caught slightly off guard by his brash response. He was Klingon after all. "My apologies," Rochelle nodded, "The civilians that crash landed were from a Terran religious group known as the Pastafarians and it seems that they encountered a very primitive race of beings that inhabit the forests of the planet. Pre-warp. Pre-clothing, really." The woman looked up to Amelia and Tristan, wordlessly expressing the need for careful wording as they took over from her preamble.
"Indigenous." Neyes said pointedly, for the benefit of their guest.
"The ship that crashed is known as the Pelican," Amelia started, eying Krogoth with curiosity. "So far, everyone who's info we've pulled up among the passengers, they are all federation citizens. Most have voluntarily evacuated, but a couple have insisted on staying down with the indigenous beings."
"So they want to engage in war with the Klingon Empire?" Krogoth said more than asked, his lip curling ever so slightly, "We did not agree to allow Federation citizens to take over one of our planets! How many are left behind and what capabilities do they have?!" He seethed.
Rochelle, seeing the entire situation begin to crumble and fearing for the glass top table they sat around, held up her hand and found her feet, languidly moving to the replicator. "Allow me to get you something?" She offered the pensive stag.
"What do you recommend?" He asked, only somewhat confused by the woman's seemingly unnaturally calm demeanor. He'd half expected her to launch herself across the table at him and settle the issue like a Klingon.
A knowing glance was given to Amelia, "A cup of earl grey and lavender with honey. That's what I'll be ordering for myself." The redhead replied with a small smile.
"Fine." Krogoth responded. For her to drink it, it must have been a warrior's drink and worthy of his consumption as well. His own eyes followed hers to XO's, wondering what wordless conversation they held.
"I assure you the Federation has no intention of taking over real estate in Klingon space, Ambassador. We're trying to work on a solution that will see that these people return with us. Our engineering team will be down on the planet in short order to repair the Pelican and get her up and running." Picking up their order and carefully making it back to the table, Rochelle began to explain. "We're doing everything we can to stop further contamination the indigenous people with sight of additional technology, and hope that the Klingon Empire will do the same." She added, setting his cup of tea down in front of him and once again taking up residence in her seat, blowing gently across the top of the piping hot liquid in her own cup.
"And what if we do?" Krogoth asked, sipping the magma hot tea and trying to figure out the correct way to handle the delicate china tea cup he'd been presented with. "Contaminate them with new technology?" What he didn't realize was that the entire reason she'd offered him such a thing was simply to teach that precision and delicate measures were often quintessential to successfully navigating new situations.
Amelia growled softly at Krogoth. The assumption that it must be a challenge to battle was just stupid. Her gaze narrowed as she watched Rochelle hand the large man the delicate cup, and she bit back a laugh.
"My brother is the last person who would go charging into battle, the Klingon in our genetics didn't take hold in him," Amelia pointed out, deciding it would come out eventually, so she might as well admit to Noah's involvement. "He didn't plan to end up there, but he... bonded with the locals while he was trapped there over a month. If you'll show patience, which I know is difficult for a Klingon." She punctuated this with a wink and a grin. "We are working to get them to leave, peacefully. I'm pretty sure both the fleet and the high counsel would prefer a peaceful solution."
"If you'll allow us, sir. Us taking care of this problem for you could play into your best interest. Nobody wins battling small, inferior creatures... or religious separatists. With the respect you'll gain here today, by allowing us to resolve this peacefully under your watchful eye, you also gain powerful allies. Wining the respect of these two, for instance, is a weapon no one would scoff at." The straightforward and implicit tone as Neyes spoke was flawless in its confidence. Every word of it was true, if still leaning toward benefiting the Vindicator and her mission in the immediate future.
The big Klingon scoffed and set his cup down. The confounded thing refused to sit right and he was quickly growing tired of it. The Captain, however, seemed to be navigating hers just fine. He watched her as he listened to the Trill and the half-breed talk, noting the delicate way she held her cup and balanced the sauced just underneath ever so prim and proper. No wonder the bitch was crowned a Queen. He wouldn't be humiliated by this. Carefully he drew up his cup, mimicking the red Queen's actions with his big, calloused fingers. "Fine." He replied, "I'll give you a week to do what you see fit before I recommend we just wipe the planet out and start over. That would be an easier way of handling this and we wouldn't have to pussy foot around single celled organisms." He spat the insult, eyeing Amelia.
Rochelle almost rolled her eyes at the latest round of Klingon flirting transpiring over her meeting table. Setting her own cup down she cast Tristan a pained expression and nodded towards the Klingon stag. "We may need more than a week. Commander Neyes will be more than happy to sit with you privately concerning the indigenous race. We have a team of scientists that will be gathering more intel as well. There's a lot of potential here for the Klingon Empire. A lot."
"We have accused Noah of having a single cell for a brain at times, when he's prattled on about his noodley god," Amelia quipped in return to Krogoth's affectionate description of her brother, his flock, and the indigenous beings on the planet. "But I assure you that not he, any of his people, or the beings encountered qualify as single celled. This won't go like the great tribble hunt, there will be consequences beyond this planet if you just hit the reset button. I know neither of us will be happy if there are."
"What we do with our territory is up to us." the Klingon hissed dangerously in response to Amelia, his pinkie lifting in irritation off the tea cup. "We don't interfere when you went around helping the Bajorans re-purpose planets by removing their inhabitants, did we?" Krogoth knew the Klingons, for the moment, had no intentions of doing it either, but the challenge was too great to simply back away from. "And what about you, Counselor?" he spat the word, "what do you have to say about all of this?"
Rochelle shook her head and set her tea cup down on its saucer as she waited for Tristan to rally in the face of the Klingon's good-hearted adversity. They weren't her favorite race, but she'd long ago learned to live with their strange sense of bravado and flirtation. Amelia seemed to have a friend.
Neyes perked up as the Klingon said his name, "Well I-".
"Of course you can do what you want with your territory, but you asked us to help. How's it going to reflect on you when we report that you didn't let us do so?" Amelia challenged, staring him down. She wanted to laugh at his efforts with the tea cup, but knew it would kill her point. One can't stare down a Klingon with the case of the giggles.
"We asked you as a common courtesy to get in there and figure out why there was a Federation vessel there. We gave you the ability to collect your dead or your survivors, not to start throwing policy at us or give people an option to settle one of our worlds." Krogoth rallied sharply, leaning over the edge of the table as he spoke.
"We have no intention of letting them settle there," Amelia snapped back, standing up and leaning forward with her arms braced on the table to get in Krogoth's face. "However, Starfleet doesn't do jackboots and death threats to get people to do what we want. We show them respect. It takes a little longer, but your other choice is to pull one of your defense force ships off patrol to do it. I doubt the high counsel wants that, otherwise neither the Vindicator or you would be here having this conversation right now."
Rochelle's eyebrow shot up and she was quick to get to her feet at around the same time the Klingon's blood boiled and he did the same. She watched the big stag puff up, his massive height and bulk a truly imposing sight to the naked eye. "Girls! Save the hair pulling for another time. We're losing sight of the big picture here." The Captain racked her knuckles against the glass table to catch their attention as she spoke. "Sit. down. Both of you, and listen to what Commander Neyes has to say."
"Nobody here wants to make waves." Neyes said simply, giving Krogoth a knowing look, "Starfleet will do what it always does, and the Klingons will continue to do what they do. Neither of those situations involves the fiery cleansing of an entire planet. It's ridiculous," Neyes crossed his arms, his perturbed disposition at being bulldozed becoming apparent. "A week will likely be plenty of time to resolve this matter, and that should be the end of the discussion until we know more.
"THAT, is what I think, Mr. Krogoth." His words punctuated with confident diction.
Amelia sat down in her chair at Rochelle's insistence, and it was all she could do to not grin. For someone who had insisted so much on Qo'noS that she didn't like Klingons, she didn't feel comfortable around them and their brusk customs, she was doing just fine managing this one. Even Tristan, in his quiet way, was getting his point across. Amelia was satisfied to sit back and wait to be addressed again at this point.
Krogoth snapped his attention towards the Phoenix, his eyes narrowing as they raked up and down her delicate form. He knew better than to assume anything now, and when she stood the Klingon knew fun time was over. From the corner of his eye he watched Amelia take her seat and he followed suit as soon as her rear end touched cushion. Tristan's voice was the next thing to filter into his ridged dome, drawing him back from the fierce little Captain. He'd never been able to draw an adequate taste for Trill, their culture and beliefs simply didn't mesh with the warrior's own. How anything could want to live on and on seemed like Hell compared to the glory of being stomped out in battle. "Fine." He grumbled, "One week. You get one week and I expect to be kept informed every leg of the way." He sneered back at the three of them.
Rochelle nodded, standing until the two Klingon-bred members of their little tea party finally took their seats. "That should be more than adequate." She nodded as she once again reclaimed her chair and crossed her coltish legs. "Commander Neyes will be happy to play personal liaison between you and the psychological aspects of the beings and refugees. Commander Waterhouse will be your window into our operations as we work on resolution. I can promise you that we're working as quickly as possible." She smiled almost sweetly, "More tea?" she asked, rubbing salt in the wound at the fact she knew he was struggling with the situation as a whole.
"No. Thank you." Krogoth huffed and eyeballed the torture device that the Captain's pretty little hands so easily navigated. The tea had been refreshing, just enough of a bite and hint of something different. Bergamot was far from being a regular in the Klingon diet, but he was sure it was the nectar of warriors if the Vindicator command team drank it. "I'll be expecting news at least twice a day."
"Consider it so." Rochelle nodded, her fingers toiling across her PADD and her eyes following along the merry road to the eyes of her officers. Her will would be done, if only to get them all out of this mess sooner.
---
Captain Rochelle Ivanova
Commanding Officer
USS VINDICATOR, NCC-78213-E
&
Lt Commander Amelia Waterhouse
Executive Officer
USS Vindicator, NCC-78213-E
&
Lt Commander Tristan Neyes, PhD
Chief Counselor
USS VINDICATOR, NCC-78213-E
&
Krogoth
Klingon Ambassador
(APB October)
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