My Sort of People

Posted on Thu Jul 21st, 2011 @ 7:36am by Lieutenant Commander Aral Aix & Major Jake Harper

Mission: Too Close for Comfort...
Location: Lounge, Deck 5, USS Arizona
Timeline: Immediately Following 'A Cardie and a Trill walk into a bar'

Abandoned by the Cardassian Engineer, Aral Aix in turn abandoned the table and moved towards the bar, he leaned casually against its rounded edge and waited for service. It had been years since he had stood at a bar and he was not yet ready to retire for the evening; the two glasses of Kanar that he had started on that evening had coated his stomach and had rendered him in a state of pleasant inebriation but still afforded him the full use of his mental and physical faculties.

Aral ordered a glass of Bajoran spring wine, a choice made without conscious irony; whether his subconscious had a sense of humour or his pallet simply yearned for a crisp, fresh taste after the bitter liquid Aix did not know. The waiter took his order and the Trill climbed onto a stool. He the lounge was fairly quiet but the bar was well attended, to his right a Bolian retrieved a try of green drinks that seemed to be in the midst of a violent chemical reaction, to his left sat a solitary figure in a Marine Corps uniform.

Jake swirled his tumbler, before polishing off the rest of its contents. The Earth-made Canadian Whiskey still burned as went down his throat, even after three glasses on the rocks. The real thing surpassed any replicated attempt, and he even found an appreciation for the somewhat watered down taste as the ice cubes melted.

He turned to motion for the waiter, and patiently waited for a refill as he motioned towards his now empty glass. "One more whenever you get a moment.."

Harper gave a casual nod to the Trill man now sitting next to him. "Now that's irony..."

"Oh yes?" replied Aral, intrigued by the Major's comment.

"Don't think of me for being nosey, but it's kind of ironic. You switched from a Cardassian beverage, one that's definitely for acquired taste buds, to a Bajoran one. Some might find that amusing, especially someone like myself who's had a little too much to drink but at least my beverage of choice is from the same star system..." Harper rambled on with a slight slur in his speech, not quite sure of what he was saying let alone if it made sense to anyone aside from himself.

Aral's face twisted into one of amusement. "For quite some years they were in the same star system." He paused, "Are you suggesting my choice of drink is politically incorrect?"

Harper was puzzled for a moment, and it showed on face for a brief moment. "I don't know, I'll have to ask for clarification with the Colonel the next time I see her. She's rather worldly..." He paused for a moment, watching as his glass was refilled which brought a renewed sense of amusement back to his mood. "Major Jake Harper, nice to meet you Mr...?"

"Aix, Aral Aix. Chief Science Officer." The Trill took a sip from his glass. He had never been a fan of Marines on starships, he accepted they had their place in Starfleet and was glad of their protection, but in his opinion their place was very much on terra firma. "Have you been aboard long Jake?"

"A week or so..." Harper took a long sip of his drink, before setting it down and turning his seat slightly to better face his new found colleague. "Science huh? Never really messed around with it much. I have a flare for Astrometrics and Stellar Cartography, but that's mostly from being pilot and other....things, Aral. Wait can I call ya Aral? Or Aix? Haven't met many Trill in my time, so I'm not really up to date of the formalities."

"Aral's fine. We Trill are quite easy going." He replied, "Strangely enough, I'm an astrophysicist and something of an amateur pilot myself."

"So what you're saying is if I give you lessons sometime in the Valkyrie-Class Fighter I have mothballed in Auxiliary Shuttle Bay, you'll let me wander around Astrometrics from time to time?" Jake sipped the rest of his drink this time, and waved off the waiter from refilling again. He knew his limits, and he was already pushing them.

"I'll go one better." Replied Aral, "Feel free to wonder around astrometrics any time you like." He took a sip from his glass and suppressed a chuckle remembering how vehemently the astrophysicists had complained earlier about the lateral sensor array. The thought of a Marine Corps Major turning up to tinker with their sensitive controls filled Aral with a mischievous glow. "You might even push the science monkeys into doing some work." Aix was yet to see any real work, or hear an original thought, from any of the science teams.

"Most gracious of your Mr. Aral..erm Aral. I have a way or two of motivating people, so I'll see what I can do. The real question is would there be a problem of rerouting some Level three security clearance information from a handful of listening posts to the secondary computer core?" Jake turned stone faced for moment or two. "Just kidding, of course..."

"Yes, kidding... of course." Replied Aral evenly, remembering his last conversation on the Arizona with a ranking Marine Officer. Were they all involved in intelligence? "Feel free to play in astrometics, I'm looking forward to their reaction, but don't feed them information that's above their pay grade." Pausing to run his finger down the condensation on his glass, "Mind you, I am a dab hand with ODN relays, if you're not." Aral's confidence in his technical skills had been bolstered by his afternoon's work with Lieuteuant Broca.

"A man of many skills is always handy." Jake considered the last time he took a nasty shock from a Cardassian computer terminal. He knew his way around Federation technology, but another set of hands would always be welcome. But that would be another conversation for another time perhaps.

"So what do you think of the Arizona so far?" The Major shifted the conversation back to the something more mainstream for a lounge. He couldn't help but chuckle at the Bolian nearby who didn't seem to be fairing too well. Jake imagined that if he had a few more drinks, he too might be face planted on the bar countertop.


"She's a big girl, lots of guns and guts and as for the crew; you're my sort of people." The only people for Aral were the mad ones, the ones who were mad to live, talk, be saved, those who desired everything and nothing at the same time, the ones who never yawned or said a mundane thing; those who burnt bright in the cold, dark night of space. Truthfully he had never felt so accepted or so quickly on Starfleet vessel in his life. The Arizona was very much a family and the Commodore, its tempestuous paterfamilias, hated and venerated simultaneously.

The Major had raised an eyebrow, as if to question what the Trill's sort of people were. "Mad," replied Aral as he quietly toasted Jake and his shipmates.

Jake shook his head in agreement, motioning the waiter towards the shot glasses behind the bar. "I'll drink to that.."