A Cardie and a Trill walk into a bar...

Posted on Sat Jul 16th, 2011 @ 10:29am by Lieutenant Jasad Broca & Lieutenant Commander Aral Aix

Mission: Too Close for Comfort...
Location: Main Engineering
Timeline: Just After Spoons and Spots

In the Engineering world, nine times out of ten, solving the problem is harder than it looks. Every once in a while though, that tenth time offers a pleasant surprise. This was one such time. Within an hour, the lateral arrays were operating back at peak efficiency. This was thanks largely to the assistance of the Chief Science Officer. Jasad had gained no small measure of respect for the man's talents over the past sixty minutes.

"And that should do it," Jasad commented with an appreciative nod. "I would have never made the connection between the earlier plasma fluctuations and the current sensor calibration problems if not for you. You shaved several hours from this chore, Sir, and helped me and my team to avoid some fairly grueling manual labor."

Aix smiled repressing a yelp of joy at the Cardassian's verbosity from the dormant professor of literature residing in his abdomen. He was flattered, but unconvinced he quite deserved the credit the older man afforded him. "I was an engineer once..." Aral mentioned, he gestured in the vague direction of the Jefferies tube he's crawled out from, "... most things have changed but plasma flows are still as difficult to regulate as ever."

He smiled genuinely at Aix, the past hour having brought some small sense of friendly familiarity. "It must be true what they say, that joined Trill have the stored wisdom of lifetimes at their disposal. Though I am middle aged and you are still a young man, your experience seems to eclipse my own. I am envious at the depths and breadths of knowledge available to you."

"You give me too much credit." Aral replied, "I've been old three times and I've made it a point of never attempting to be wise." He paused to search for the right words, "Others find it terribly tiresome." He smirked and leaned on a console, "You know," said Aral, returning the engineer's smile, "our shift ended about an hour ago and you're the first Cardassian I've met who hasn't pulled a phaser at me. Care for a drink?"

Jasad felt far more pride and gratitude than was normal for the Commander's offer. While they weren't openly hostile, officers on the Shras rarely asked to share recreational time with him. Part of that was likely due to his low rank. He had been an Ensign, and while that technically made him an officer, it left him in an awkward position. He had been far older than other Ensigns, usually having little in common with them. Meanwhile, he'd been largely disregarded by the more senior officers. It had all conspired to give him a feeling of soft persecution. On the Arizona thus far, that sensation was far less pronounced. In fact, he found that he felt comfortable enough to make a joke about stereotypes.

"I would be honored, Sir," he said. "I wasn't sure whether the Prometheus class had anything resembling a lounge. It's not an aspect of the ship stressed in the technical manuals. As for pulling Phasers... we Cardassians have an old saying: Shooting a man between the eyes shows good marksmanship. But shooting him in the back shows good judgment." He gestured to the exit with a wry smile, "After you, Sir."

"And slitting his throat shows style?" Aral quipped, shocked at how vividly he recalled the equisite elation that accompanied taking a life. "There's one on this deck and smaller ones on nine and eleven." Replied Aix who had served on a ship of this class previously, "And do us both a favour and call me Aral... unless the Commodore's in earshot."

"What's that famous Cardassian drink that's apparently awful?" Aral asked, a sly smile hanging about his mouth.

Jasad's eyes widened slightly in surprise at the seeming pleasure with which the Commander relayed his counter-phrase. "Apparently," he observed, "Trill sayings are even darker than Cardassian sayings. Aral." Using the man's first name felt somewhat blasphemous, but it was a good sign of acceptance. "You may call me Jasad." He did not mention his cadet nickname of 'Fudge,' a moniker he hoped would remain securely in his past.

As they arrived at the lounge, the Commander asked about foul-tasting Cardassian drinks, and Jasad couldn't help but chuckle. "You have your pick of the pack," he replied. "Kanar is thick, powerful, cloying, spicy, and bitter. Fish juice is very salty, moreso than many would prefer to endure. Rokassa juice is exceptionally sweet, to the degree that most other races can endure little more than a sip. My people tend towards strong-flavored meals and beverages. An exception to this trend is Red Leaf Tea, which is- by Cardassian standards- a nuanced refreshment. I prefer it to Raktajino when I feel the need for stimulation."

Upon finding a table, Jasad asked, "What are the famous beverages of your homeworld?"

Aral sat at the table, "These days Trill is very cosmopolitian but back in the day we had a wonderful light ale and when I was a girl I loved zephyer extract... it's a sort of sugary drink." He paused realising he had tasted neither of these this lifetime. "The best known is probably Tannaliquior, it's bright pink and tastes like a cross between Romulan Ale and Saurian Brandy. Absolutely foul." No wonder his people had embraced alien food and drink so readily.

A waiter approached and Aral ordered a glass of Kanar.

"Ah," Jasad said, surprised. 'When I was a girl' was not a phrase he often heard from men. "It did not occur to me that the..." What was it called? A slug? A mollusk? "Organism," he hoped that was inoffensive, "would be..." Injected? Implanted? No... "Joined with members of different sexes." He thought about that for a moment. "I think I would find it confusing to alternate between sexual identities. Of course, I am not a..." Snail? Gastropod? "Symbiote."

Talking about Trills was an unexpected minefield.

Aix's face twisted into an amused smile. "It often is, for others. For us, it's part of our species." He paused a couple of memories stirred, "it has had its advantages; I understand women for one." Aral smiled, making light of the fact that Trill had a history of gender equality dating back thousands of years. "When you are joined ... you become an entirely new person. Everything changes." He paused for a moment of reflection, "Individuals have greater differences than gender. Once you've lived through death, changing sex is... isn't a big deal."

The Commander ordered a kanar, which made Jasad smile. In turn, he ordered a Tannaliquor. With the state of replication technology being what it was, the drinks were delivered in less than a minute. Jasad sipped his beverage experimentally. It was just as Aral had described it. Trying not to grimace, he gave his evaluation: "The Trill people must have a... formidable constitution."

Aral shook his head. "No, we don't; it's mainly made for export. The Klingons love the stuff." He paused, unaffected by the disgust crossing Jasad's face, and peered into his Kanar, attempting not to regret his curiosity based purely on its appearance. "It's a hangover from when we were a predominantly agrarian society-it's distilled from agricultural by-products." He added as a matter of interest before taking a sip from his Kanar, it was considerably more palatable than Tannaliquor.

"This isn't bad at all." Aral emptied his glass and looked round in the hope of ordering another.

Jasad chuckled, "It seems you like Kanar more than I do. Of all my fellow recruits at the military academy, I was the only one who didn't like the beverage. It seemed practically high treason to admit it to my fellow Cardassians. Perhaps it presaged what was to come."

Jasad ordered an Apple Cider to replace his Tannaliquor, hoping that the Arizona was not a ship which employed replicator rationing. When the cider came, he sipped it appreciatively. "You know," he said, "something has been bothering me since we met. Your name sounded familiar..." he reclined a bit in his chair, summoning something from memory, "'Resolving the Warp Efficiency Barrier on Prometheus Class Starships.' An Essay in a technical journal I read two years ago. Written by an 'Aral Iillio Aix.' That's not you, is it?"

Aral nodded. Aboard the Proteus he had spent more time in engineering than any of the science labs, he had been initially lured there by the stunning blue eyes of the Chief Engineer, but she had found herself passed over in favour of persistent efficiency problems in the warp assembly. The Prometheus Class had been a breakthrough in Starfleet ship design; fast, agile and lethal vessels. However the tripartite warp core and multiple nacelles had led to persistent energy inefficiencies Utopia Planetia had compensated with increased anti-matter storage space and supplementary fusion generators. As such the Prometheus Class had been horrendously inefficient, its energy consumption in normal operations could exceed that of the much larger Sovereign Class.

"It was a team effort." Aral replied, "I am surprised you've read it... the Corps of Engineers were quite hostile in their reviews." That was an understatement. Aral's paper had committed the second most deadly academic sin, trespass into another's field of expertise, and this had been rewarded with unrestrained criticism not least from Utopia's Research and Design Section.

Jasad chuckled, "The letters to the editor in the following issue were not much kinder. However, you can always tell legitimate critiques from passionate ones. The latter begin with words such as, 'Perhaps if you had studied Engineering' or 'Your inexperience in this matter is clearly demonstrated when you' etcetera. I became quite familiar with passionate objections, ironically enough, on Vulcan. 'That may be how they resolve subspace field anomalies on Cardassia, Mister Broca, however if you'd had the benefit of an education on Vulcan, I assure you-' and you can probably flush whatever else they say into the waste reclamation chute."

"The prime luminaries of every field are noteworthy in their willingness to discuss anything, challenge every preconception, and take good ideas from wherever they originate. Though they are few and far between, they are blessedly in sufficient supply that modern civilizations no longer use blood letting to cure-"

Jasad blinked.

"My mnemonics tutors would be ashamed," he said. "I just recalled that I am supposed to report to Sickbay for a physical. Will you forgive my rudeness if I leave abruptly, Com-" He corrected himself, "Aral?"

Aral did a double take and found himself saying, "Of course not," before he had quite realised what was going on. The Cardassian's carefully pitched compliments and sympathetic acknowledgement of past criticisms had charmed the Trill into acquiescence. "We'll have to do breakfast sometime."

Jasad smiled, "That sounds delightful. You have not lived until you have tasted Cardassian eggs. Of all our culinary developments, it is our treatment of eggs which make me most proud." He stood, bowing his head slightly, "I have greatly enjoyed meeting you."

And with that, he scurried out of the lounge, anxious to make his apologies to the ship's Doctor.