Say Goodnight

Posted on 19 Jan 2022 @ 9:28am by Commander Calliope Zahn & Lieutenant Commander Lance Quinn (*)

Mission: M2 - Sanctuary
Location: Kalaran Seed Vault, Diplomatic Party
Timeline: MD08 party time
1406 words - 2.8 OF Standard Post Measure

"And after the third embargo on crystalic ore, the refineries on Lubrak Nine went out of business which turned the entire Lubrak system into a ghost town almost overnight. There's aught there now but the Lubrak postmaster and a few stubborn holdouts that still think there's a chance at reviving the economy. You wouldn't believe it to see it. Empty space ports, vacant buildings. It looks like one of those raptures these religious people jaw on about." The Minister of Trade from Irshiri Colony explained at length, following a history of shipping through the local space lanes. He had long since forgotten how he had gotten onto the subject, but it seemed to him very interesting so he had found someone to explain it to.

When that officer had left, he simply angled a little and redirected his feet to the next nearest fellow, a man standing back against the wall, easily a captive audience. The aged Minister Volstahn picked up right where he left off, as if this fellow had been tuned in all along from the background. After some length of continued explanation of the embargo wars, he concluded by saying, "Losses were cut, what can I say? Those senates are still imposing new embargos on one another every session. What have we here, young man? You're in the Starfleet, are you? Very exciting, is it? You've got your yellow frock. Is that for some sort of department then? I can't recall."

"Yes. It's...some sort of department." Lance hadn't been listening for at least five minutes, probably more. This was everything he'd hated growing up, and now he was being forced to relive it. And with no escape in sight.

"I began my career in the Irshiri space force. Irshiri has a very good defense program, you know. I never flew, mind you, but I drilled for flight. Served for four years. It's Irshiri policy for every able bodied person to serve their fair share. I did with honors. Boy could I pass a room inspection." he laughed at the memories. "I understand Starfleet is an entirely volunteer operation. It must be some program to run entirely on volunteers. Irshiri can't maintain a properly ready force on volunteerism."

"I have no doubt in my mind." Just agree with whatever mindless drivel they say. It was a lesson he'd taught himself early. Nod politely, make sounds of agreement and approval every so often. It was rare they'd look up long enough to notice the light go out in your eyes.

Finally, gratifyingly, he spotted a shape in the crowd, and a flash of green skin. His heart may have leapt from his chest as he was at last given an opportunity for escape. "Oh, excuse me...sir..." he had no idea of this person's name or title. "My wife needs me. I'll just be...a moment..." he was already walking away to catch her.

"Ah You're wedded are you? So am I. Thirty-seven years of bliss!" Minister Volstahn continued glowingly as he leisurely trailed after the retreating officer. "She loves to travel. Although we never do happen to travel together. She's got exceptional taste in her destinations whereas I simply go where the ministry has call for.... For instance... to Obsidian here... since the sector is secure for trade once more." As Lance seemed to put more distance between them, the Irshirian Minister of Trade's voice fell behind him.

Still wearing the church robe from her encounter in the ladies room, Calliope wandered around the party confused, spun around in the general tide of the crowd of people. All of the sound and the lights were too much. She wasn't even sure how long she had been ambling about. With the pounding of her head coming in waves, she paused against a cool pillar for refuge and support as she started to feel like crumbling again.

A hand touched her arm. Gentle, reassuring, but also concerned. Lance's face matched it.

Calliope looked up with relief at the sight of Lance. All of her makeup had been rinsed away in the sink and she was pallid compared with her usual color. "Lance..."

"You look awful. You should have called for help," he chastised.

"...I'm sorry, I... I lost my comm badge." Calliope tried to explain. "In the washroom."

"Forget that, we should get you-"

"Hello!" The minister had caught up to them. "Ah! A Sister of the Universal Family! Very good. Your husband was about to introduce us."

Calliope did her best to smile and recover some modicum of posture. "I'm not a Sister. One of them just... gifted me her shawl-thing." She looked at Lance to try to understand who this person was. Most of the time, it wasn't like Lance to offer to make introductions. The gentleman must have been some kind of researcher or mathematician. "How do you know my husband?"

"Through the natural course of conversation we've discovered several commonalities—" began Minister Volstahn enthusiastically before it occurred to him that he was missing something. "Although I'm afraid I haven't gotten his name. We rather hit it off before either one had the chance to say. I'm Minister Volstahn from Irshiri Colony."

Lance glared, his hands curling tightly and his mouth a fraction from uttering something non-diplomatic.

Sensing Lance was irritated she grasped his arm and leaned into him while volunteering introductions herself. "I'm Calliope, and this is Commander Quinn. He's the Chief Engineer aboard Obsidian Command. Are you a Minister of Technology?"

"No..."

"Sciences? Research?"

"Not quite." Volstahn motioned with one pointer finger and seemed pleased to leave her to continue guessing.

"Education? No?"

"Trade, my dear. Appointed to the Trade Ministry of the Colony of Irshiri."

"All of Irshiri Trade. That's quite something!" Even while she logged the information for her own connection, Calliope realized that it was highly unlikely that Lance felt anything of mutuality between himself and the Minister and looked back to her husband with an honest pleading in her eyes. "I'm so sorry to have to say this but I haven't been feeling very well. I'm not sure if the food agrees with me."

"The Brekarian shrimp," Lance added, following her line of thought. "Yes, it did look rather suspicious. Oh - didn't I see you eating some before, Mr Volstag?"

"It's Volstahn, if you please, my dear fellow. And Yes—"

"Whatever," Lance said it just softly and brusquely to be missed.

"—I had a plateful! Exquisite. If you ask the attendants, they will even peel them for you. And the shrimp pairs quite nicely with the Kalaran citrus relish. I was considering helping myself to a few more, actually."

"I would probably not do that. It can have a nasty effect on the digestive tract. If not cooked properly, I hear they can grow into your lower colon and form a small colony. Let me tell you, that can be extraordinarily painful when they remove it. Mainly because they have to go through the...hmm..." Lance made a small hand motion towards his abdomen.

For once, the minister was speechless, managing only to gulp as he held his portly stomach protectively and worried at a rumble of something deep in his gastronomy that seemed now to be an early portent.

"I think it's wise we retire and I see my wife to a more comfortable surround."

"Yes, but of course. I should... perhaps seek medical attention myself." Minister Volstahn staggered off.

"Lance! How rude—" Calliope relaxed slightly into Lance's arm. For a moment she thought that worrying the minister was cruel, and almost told Lance as much, but her concern of Volstahn evaporated when she realized she no longer had to maintain a disingenuous smile against her discomfort. "—He didn't even say goodnight."

"I'll get over it," he sighed. "Are you sure you're okay? You didn't look at all well in there. Perhaps we should return you to the medical facilities..."

Calliope hated to admit it, but she knew she needed to check in for the night and the staff would want her vitals and have something for the nausea, headaches, and fatigue. What they wouldn't have was something to unwind the twists in her soul. Overwhelmed with her heart and ego feeling raw between the cruel Obsidian leader's portents of doom and the smothering kind church ladies with all of their prayers, she buried her face in Lance's shoulder and nodded, mutely.