Reverse Housewarming: Scoping Out the Scene
Posted on 13 Jan 2024 @ 8:55pm by Commander Calliope Zahn & Senior Chief Petty Officer Lex Navine & Crewman Recruit Zuzal & A'Koja Dea - Private Investigator
Edited on on 06 Feb 2024 @ 10:07pm
Mission:
M4 - Falling Out
Location: OC, Zahn's Quarters
Timeline: M4 D9 (all day, whenever)
1432 words - 2.9 OF Standard Post Measure
A’Koja knew from the invitation she’d received that she wasn’t meant to bring anything to the housewarming, but it seemed odd attending a housewarming with no gift in hand. She opted for something a little sneaky, although not very large— pocket sized, if it even counted for that. It was on a data chip, at any rate, and she rubbed the chip between thumb and forefinger like a lucky charm as she came up to Calliope Zahn’s new door. Not that A’Koja had ever had cause to visit Commander Zahn’s last place of residence. The door was set to stand open, and there was inviting low key folk music playing from within– an open invitation.
Seeing as there was no need to ring at the door, A’Koja ventured inside and looked around. The place was senior officer sized, which on a station was respectable enough accommodations. Including an office behind a privacy wall, and a general living and dining area in the primary room, this layout also supplied a small kitchen with an island, set with a couple of tucked in stools for seating. On the island was arranged cheese boards and wine, to which a couple of guests were actively helping themselves. A portly elder looking Klingon man who seemed especially interested in the snack layout, and a middle aged grazerite who was proudly showing the Klingon digital images of his children and grandchildren. A’Koja didn’t recognize either of them at first, but it struck her all at once that she had just never seen either one of them out of their usual working context. The Klingon was the owner of the new noodle bar she often stopped for take out from. And the Grazerite she recognized by voice if not by face or name. She was sure he worked in Tower control. This was almost as promising as a networking conference, A’Koja thought, as she found other faces and voices milling around to which she realized it would do her contact list a lot of good to make her own introductions. The Klingon poured her a glass of wine, and they grunted hellos to one another. She told him in Klingon that he looked like he was going to dominate the cheese board, and he laughed and, raising a cheese knife in mock contest, asked her if she wanted to challenge him for the brie. They both chuckled and relaxed as she demurred, and she introduced herself.
“A’Koja Dea, I’m a private investigator.”
“You’re Starfleet,” he said, his nostrils flaring as if he had a whiff of it.
“Ex-starfleet,” A’Koja clarified, as if that was a distinction that he would care about. “Don’t you own that noodle bar? The Dynasty?”
“The very one. I am Master Chef KevaQ, of the house of T’kar. Commander Zahn is one of my regular patrons, and I could not pass up the opportunity to honor her offer of hospitality. It is strengthening to the heart to eat at another’s table.” The sizable Klingon clapped the back of the skinny goat-like man still milling beside him. “Have you met Senior Chief Lex-Navine?”
“I have not had the pleasure.” A’Koja switched her wine glass to her left hand and extended her right to shake. Grazerite palms were always strangely leathery, and Lex’s was no different. “Hello, Senior Chief.”
“Lex will do, between friends of friends!” His goatee waggled as he talked. A’Koja hadn’t pictured him as one of the Grazerite races from just his voice alone, but now that she had the face to fix to the voice, it seemed like there could be no other match. He had a kind of slow, modulating gravelly voice, more tenor than the bass of the more oxen-like Grazerites she had known. She’d known only one other Grazerite of his particular race and stature, but that man had been a black market info broker, and she greatly doubted there was any connection between them.
As she helped herself to a few herbed crackers dipped in the hummus, Lex picked up where he had left off sharing his digital photo wallet of his family. The newest addition being a toddler pair of twin nephews “From my niece Rea, not Elli. They’re also twins. It runs fairly strong in our family. My twin brother is Rea and Elli’s father. I captured this photo myself, actually, as they happen to be visiting the station. Their father, Rea’s husband, is a cultural envoy!”
“Is he?” A’Koja asked.
“Yes, Ernesh-Ibrin, the poet.”
“I see,” she said, trying to figure out if she could place from memory this envoy he was referring to. “Once upon a long time ago I did some touring as a Diplomat’s Aide. I understand there's some kind of conference underway. I assume that’s the purpose of their visit?”
“Ah yes. To determine the Federation’s stance in relation to the planet of Korix.” Lex-Navine confirmed.
“Korix?” boomed the Klingon chef. “You mean the Korinn homeworld?”
“Yes, one and the same. You know of it?” asked Lex.
“During her tour of the promenade, there was a Korinn delegate who visited my restaurant. Of this I will attest: the Korinn consume shark steak properly–” KevaQ offered a toothy predatory grin. “fresh and raw!”
If A’Koja wasn’t mistaken, she thought she noticed Lex’s smile become more forced, probably masking disgust as most Grazerites were definitively vegetarians who only ventured into animal products like honey, eggs, milk and cheeses, which he certainly was not shying away from now….
Seamlessly stepping away from the snack bar, A’Koja sidled up beside a young Orion teen. She had her hands folded mindfully infront of her, wrists twisted around one another to hold her own hands back from touching any of the things she was evaluating on offer at the dining table and along all of the tops of counters and shelves. A’Koja watched the girl peek into the tops of each bag and bin, her eyes tracing the contents and weighing her options as to what to take.
“Hello, there.” A’Koja noticed that while she wasn’t wearing her duty jacket, the undershirt was one of the junior enlisted in medical. She was no doubt what they called centuries ago a candy striper, and hardly out of Highschool, if she had even graduated yet. The girl didn’t answer verbally, but just glanced up with a nervous smile. A’Koja probed further, “You know our mutual friend, Commander Zahn?”
The girl nodded straight away. “She… she was a patient.” After saying so, she seemed uncertain if that was somehow privileged information, or if it made sense. “I work in Medical, I’m a nursing assistant.” She unwound her hands to point to herself. “My name is Zuzal.”
“Nice to meet you Zuzal.” She took her hand and pumped it in greeting. “I’m A’Koja. I do investigations. You are apparently into investigations yourself, here, with the gifts-to-go.”
“I just don’t know what to choose. She has so many nice things. I don’t want to be greedy or anything.”
“I’ll tell you what, you can pick out one for me and have it for yourself as well.”
“Are you kidding?” Calliope suddenly burst in between them both, slaking off more of her own wine from a piece of handblown glass stemware she had owned but never used before until now. “Take two of something, each of you! What about these?” Calliope lifted up one of a set of little cast iron bells and rang it. “I’ve got like thirty of them, take a bunch. And make sure you go through the clothes. See if something fits you. They’re all vintage or hand crafted. I’m sure there’s a piece in there you’ll like. Or one of the handbags. Not the ritual Andorian hairpin throwing picks though, those are... I’ll get in trouble giving those to you.”
Zuzal looked in the glittery frost-like box with the hair pins. They had incredible intricate designs on the grasping ends of them, and the pin side narrowed to a dangerous looking point. “I’ll be eighteen soon…”
As Calliope moved away to talk to another guest, A'Koja picked the hair sticks up, taking the lid from the bottom of the little accessory box and shutting it. She winked at Zuzal. "Come and see me on your birthday."
