Breakfast at the Supper Club (pt 2)
Posted on 30 Sep 2023 @ 8:54pm by Admiral Zavareh Sepandiyar & Major Porter Wallace & Chief Petty Officer Ibis Xeri
Mission:
M4 - Falling Out
Location: Obsidian Command, Promenade, The Supper Club
Timeline: M4 D2 Morning
2430 words - 4.9 OF Standard Post Measure
Ibis, after finding the quiche, circled the buffett twice without picking anything else. Food from the replicator you could just create and then put back to be destroyed. Here, all this had been grown, ordered, delivered, prepared… And there was far more than could be taken. She thought about the challenges of collecting enough wild oatgrass while trying to avoid the gremlin mice biting you in the foot. And how the attempts to transplant it closer to Camp had failed. They could gather a couple of bundles on a long walk. Then dry them out, which, with the humidity and the rain only worked when there was enough wind and sun. Then there was winnowing and grinding…
She chose a brown bread roll from the top of an overfull basket. It was still warm.
Admiral Sepandiyar sat at a table separated from the kids, expectantly having set out the places for Ibis and Wallace to join him. The purpose of today's breakfast wasn’t just to feed the masses, it was to give them a chance to speak with him in a more comfortable setting and to allow them a chance to ease back into life as part of the greater community.
Wallace had sat down and shoved his first cinnamon roll in nine years into his mouth. The warm, buttery pastry with the sharp cream cheese and spice tasted rich and his mouth reacted by pumping out an overabundance of saliva.
Zavareh consulted a small bowl of grits uncertainly. He’d taken it thinking it was something else, but now that he was sat at the table with it he wasn’t sure wanted it at all. A quick glance at the proprietor told him he was starting to get frustrated with the abundance of food and lack of patrons, so he opted not to set it aside untried.
“Have you given thought to what you will do now?” he asked.
The Admiral’s question broke into this euphoria and Wallace glanced at Ibis hoping she’d be able to answer, but her attention was focused on watching Ikemba at the next table while Rohan attempted to bob and weave and the other boys laughed. Manners had become an extinct animal on Korix, wistfully recalled and little else. He couldn’t remember what someone was supposed to do when asked a question with a mouthful of food.
Oh. To hell with it.
“Not really, Sir,” he said around the lump of pastry, “The medical staff want to monitor us for the next few weeks as we work our way back to health.” He swallowed. “After that, we’ll need to think about what’s best for the kids before we take any postings. Ibis and I are going to get married.”
“Yes.” Ibis smirked and bumped her knee against Wallace’s under the table. “That’s the longest plan we’ve worked out.”
“I am certain we can find something for you to do here, while you’re being observed. To ease you back into the rhythm of it all,” Sepandiyar offered, tasting the grits and immediately deciding against them. He took another helping just to be polite to Mr. Holland. He set it aside, but not away so it didn’t appear he’d rejected it.
Although she was a little uncertain about the Admiral’s lack of comment on the wedding announcement, Ibis only wondered at it briefly before she thought about what he had proceeded to say… his open ended offer. Maybe he had intended it directed at Wallace, but she saw in it an easy opportunity. She remembered that the first time she had spent any time with Admiral Reardon she’d been granted her own botany lab… Quickly the then young Crewman Xeri had learned that if you had the attention of the brass, you should ask for what you wanted, and presently her conscience was heavy with the damage she’d contributed to on Korix, working in the chemical production for the mines. She wanted badly to take back her unwilling part in the ecological destruction.
“I would like access to the sciences labs.” It felt strangely decisive, even to herself as she said it. “I’d like to pick up where I left off on Korix, before the Pyrryx reaction that ended the filtration tests, when I was trying to help with the ocean renewal. I can recreate what I have from memory, combined with the scans and samples the Pathfinder brought back and any information on the Korix comms station core.”
Sepandiyar simply nodded, “There are ample facilities here. In fact, an entire ring dedicated to research. I will let Captain DeHavilland know to allocate some space for you. I am certain the resident staff, once they understand what it is you are doing, will want to assist as well,” he replied.
For a moment Ibis caught Wallace’s eyes from the side, her look as if to say, ‘See? It was as simple as that, just to say what you wanted and call it done.’ But now her successful request would translate to many hours in the lab. She would be working again.
The Admiral took a bite of what looked like a scone drenched in gravy, bracing for the worst, but finding himself pleasantly surprised. Enough so that he had another bite. As he did, he glanced back to the childrens table to see them all engaged with one another in some fashion— Olivia quizzing the twins and Ikemba climbing the table and forcing Rohan to wrangle with him— meaning they weren’t hanging on every word from this table.
“There are a few more questions I have of both of you, if you are willing to answer them,” the Admiral pressed gently.
He looked forlornly at the roll on his plate. “Okay.”
“We have precious little information on the Pyrryx, their tactics, their makeup,” Zavareh said, looking to Wallace. “Between myself, Major Finn and Major General MacTaryn, we are very eager for your assessment. To have had on-the-ground experience with them for so long… you likely have extremely valuable intelligence. Would you be willing to offer your expertise on the matter? Your tactical assessment, as it were?”
Ibis listened quietly, reflecting on their last night on Korix and the tactical conference they had held. It was clear to her Wallace understood not just forces and timing, but motives and potentialities. She remembered him defusing the Irix from hitting the home pools of the Zala, by over emphasizing the idea of attacking until he shocked them out of it. Even though she agreed on principle, she hadn’t anticipated the Zala turning on the Pyrryx themselves like Wallace had suggested was possible. And yet, that was exactly what had happened. If the Irix had overrun them, it might have been very different. She put her hand on his elbow, as if to urge him. There was a chance what he had to share could make a difference in preventing or limiting conflict, or in establishing the proper defense.
“There aren’t many of them. The Pyrryx, I mean. The monkey things, I’d never seen those before, but the armored folks I would bet you’re not dealing with big numbers of those people. Other than the governor, I never saw any others. The way the Irix talked about it, they were invaded one day, smashed to bits within days. All their major cities - or whatever they have that pass for cities - abandoned. Subjugated within a month digging out that mine, in hiding, or one of the Z’ala. If I were a betting man, I’d say the Pyrryx have mastered shock and awe to build an empire.”
Wallace rearranged the half-dozen pieces of bacon on his plate around his half-eaten cinnamon roll, like they were in orbit. “The Dominion War, part of what made them so potent was numbers.” He held up a piece of bacon, “The Jem’Hadar and Cardassians, they could hit us all over the quadrant. Right? If they took a planet, like Betazed or Benzar, they held it with several divisions and Cardassian orders. Thousands and thousands.” He piled his bacon on top of his cinnamon roll.
“But, say you don’t have those numbers. Say you only have a fraction. What do you do? You make like any empire built from little places - Alexander the Great or the British Empire.” He grabbed the maple syrup and poured it over his roll, “Use your superior weaponry and tactics to drown your opponents so that they fear a repeat of the event and raise some of the poor bastards above the others, so they’re more likely to do your bidding. I also think they’re weapons and armor might be technologically advanced, but not anything else.”
“You may be correct in this,” Sepandiyar nodded in agreement. “Captain Hawthorne of the Ardeshir fought with a Pyrryx vessel. His observation was that they were advanced in their weaponry, but they wielded it ineffectively,” he agreed.
“That would make sense, I mean take the operation on Korix. Why were the Irix mining for them? If you just wanted to pillage a planet for their resources, park some mining rigs over it and drill, drill, drill. Maybe a hundred people per ship, seven or eight ships. Beam the ore up. The reason we don’t do it that way is its hell on the environment, but if you don’t care about a planet? Look at the Star Empire, those massive mining ships they had. The Pyrryx could’ve been a thousand percent more efficient, so why not? Maybe they don’t have the tech.”
“I agree.” Ibis added quietly, still monitoring the children. “The Korinn in the chemical lab told me there used to be more islands. Their explorations had mapped three wide spanning crescent archipelagos. But twenty years ago, the first attack was a powerful laser that sliced through the seabed and broke one of the nearest faultlines, killing tens of millions, and changing entire ecologies without any prelude. Some islands fell into the seabed, the sea level rose over the other islands, and the drilled area of the highest remaining elevation became the Kelbonite mine. It sounded to me like a brute force method… I mean, they must have just indiscriminately raked the world, and then applied a sustained weapons fire rather than a proper drilling method to crack open the biggest Kelbonite vein. After that they overran the populace, who felt the world was ending before they could make any sense of it, rounding them up on the remaining island. I think the Pyrryx must just rely on the technology they capture. And… the scientists under their control.” Like herself. She looked back down at her plate, shivering with a powerful shadow over her memory.. “It’s also possible that… they’re just that cruel.”
“We can confirm that there is a slave class of scientists amongst the Pyrryx, of a different species. Like the Korin, they were conquered only they had something of significance to add to the Pyrryx. We are theorizing that these… ape… creatures are similar in that regard. A slave species bred for war,” the Admiral offered, now looking to Ibis. “You are a Betazoid, what did you sense of them? These beasts or the Pyrryx. Did you sense anyone with similar capabilities to yours?” the Admiral asked gently.
“Well, I … used to be telepathic.” Ibis explained. “When they collected us from the escape pods, I think they meant to kill us. There was a Pyrryx on the other side of a viewing glass. I sensed him too. I’d never felt something so cold blooded before.” She had her shoulders tight around her ears at the terror that was the impression of his mind. “Like Wallace said, we didn’t see the…” She searched for the name she was told they had for them, “The dorumaka, but I think I sensed them. At least it felt like… well, like the mind of an abused animal that has no mother or father. Like a junkyard guard dog, with seething hatred where there should be love for… something. Anything. But we never saw them. We were searched by very tall dark skinned people. Human-like, but with very angular faces. They seemed very revenant. The only people I ever sensed like that before was this group of cultists we met once when we served on the Nimitz. I managed to transfer an idea to one of them. I don’t think he knew I was telepathic. I got it in his head that his masters would be displeased if they killed us. I don’t know if that made a difference directly, but we were interred on the planet instead.”
“Used to be?” Sepandiyar asked softly, “Have you discussed this with Medical?” he all but whispered.
“It didn’t seem very important to bring up on the Pathfinder.” Wallace had been touch and go at first, and she had to have the kids treated. “I’ll see about scheduling some scans.”
“I understand,” he replied, not pushing the point. “I am going to speak to Fleet Command and the Diplomatic Corps. Major General MacTaryn arranged for special protectorate status for a species formerly subjugated by the Pyrryx. It’s possible that they would be more willing to share the details of the Pyrryx that they have kept to themselves if they know it will be for the benefit of another subjugated species trying to be free of them,” he explained. “In the meantime, can we spend more time discussing what you did experience in detail? I do not wish to force you to relive dark memories, but the information you posses may make a world of difference at some point in the future.”
Ibis looked up at Wallace. “I think we have to relive it either way. If there’s anything good that can come out of talking about it, I’m willing to.”
“Can we do this in a more formal setting, Sir?” Wallace asked. He looked over at the kids. They had kept them sheltered as best they could and he’d rather not go down some paths with everyone present. “It got rough.”
"Of course," Zavareh agreed. "Tomorrow, on the CIC. Ten-thirty," he said, aware enough of his own schedule to remember when he had planned a small slot of time for himself. "Until then," he smiled genuinely. "Let's find a friendlier topic."
