Off to a Good Start
Posted on Wed Jul 10th, 2024 @ 5:10pm by Lieutenant Rufus Marocain & Lieutenant JG Callin Mastrel
Mission:
Take My Hand
Location: Esquimalt
2457 words - 4.9 OF Standard Post Measure
Buffets were both one of the greatest inventions of humanity (Callin wasn't exactly sure humans actually had invented them, but the first time he'd seen one was on Earth), and one of the most dangerous. He hadn't grown up hungry on Betazed, far from it considering he was raised on a farm, but food was just one of those things the young pilot over-indulged in. Especially, when, like today, it was food he'd never tried before, or like a couple of weeks ago when he'd attended that cultural exchange party. Buffet etiquette was also a bit beyond him as well, he'd only been to a couple before he found himself at this one in a restaurant on Esquimalt. He'd likely be stuck on replicated fare for Divines-knew how long as soon as the Vesta launched, so best pack in as much of the fresh stuff as possible now!
So, with a plate balanced in each hand, with small mountains of various things that both looked good and looked horrifying, Callin made his way from the buffet and out amidst the tables, searching for a place to sit down. His black gaze fell on the sight of someone he'd only seen so far on a computer screen, but it was quite possibly the one face he both had been most eager to meet and nervous about, out of all the Vesta crew. Lieutenant Rufus Marocain, his new CO, head of the Flight Control department, was already sitting at a table of his own and, by the looks of him, enjoying his own oversized meal. Callin hesitated, glanced to the sides as if looking for somewhere else to go, looked back at the Kainan officer, took a deep breath, and headed over.
"Excuse me, Lieutenant Marocain?" he began, barely righting one of his plates before some round, fried, and spiced thing rolled off. "Sorry to interrupt..."
Rufus looked up from the small mountain of bacon-wrapped giant shrimp he was currently demolishing at someone he didn't know (or at least someone whose scent he hadn't encountered before) but who obviously knew who he was. Not a huge surprise there - there weren't many Kainans on the station and he was the only one not in the Marines, so a lot of people he'd never met know of him. either way, he wouldn't leave anyone standing when they looked about ready to lose tasty morsels of peppered greepik. Quickly swallowing the shrimp he'd just popped into his mouth, he gestured to a chair. "No problem, put your trays down and..." A glance over the table, currently crowded with trays loaded with enough meats and cheeses to put a deli to shame, plus a platter holding three large pizzas stacked right on top of each other, suggested there wasn't a lot of room for anyone else's trays. "...er, here let me clear some empties," he said consolidating a couple half-finished plates and shifting them out of the way.
"There. Have a seat, Lieutenant."
A grin appeared as they made room and Callin added his own haul to the more-impressive stack of food on the table already. Well, if all they had in common was eating a lot and flying, Callin would count that as a great start! "Thank you, sir," was all he said at first, before attacking the sauced-wing of some sort of foul, figuring the other would understand. Food was important!
"I'm Callin Mastrel," he introduced himself after having stripped the joint of at least half the meat, and half-pointed at himself with the bone. "Transfer from the Aries? I don't know if you had any role in approving my application to be your ACFCO, but thanks if you did. Really excited to get to meet you, and to get to fly the Vesta!" Neither of them were human, so he didn't bother with the handshake-thing, and instead resumed devouring the hotwing.
Oh. That's why something about him seemed familiar. "Pleased to meet you. I did get your application file just before being assigned to the Nelson shakedown, and I did sign off on it. I probably should have recognized you from the picture, but my species' visual cortex is more wired for motion than static images." Once upon a time he might have ducked his head apologetically for that, but he'd reached a point of just recognizing that different species had different strengths and weaknesses, and it was best to just be forthright about it. "My kind tend to go more on scent for identification anyway, and Starfleet hasn't gotten around to including scent packets with personnel files. Anyway, I've heard good things about you from the enlisted folks in the department," he added with a canid grin.
"Ooo-" He hadn't known that, about Kainan physiology, eyesight and sense of smell. Should he maybe sway in his seat? Callin contented himself with just vigorous chewing for now. Thankful the sonic shower in his shared, temporary quarters on the station hadn't been occupied that morning, and that he'd replicated a fresh uniform, he continued the conversation "Maybe they should do that. I mean, changed how we file information about people?" Callin paused, halfway to his open mouth with a spoonful of greepik, and gave Rufus a concerned look for a moment. Had they complained about how many drinks he'd encouraged them to have? He'd seen a few of the department earlier today, red-eyed and grumpy. No, he'd said good things. Concern was replaced with another grin of his own, "Too bad you weren't with us, sir. We sang so loud station security was called and-" Wait, best not go into that. "-It was a great bonding exercise, and a good way to relieve some pressure of being cooped up on the station for weeks. How was your mission, sir?"
"Sorry I missed it. Still can't believe you all had a dogfight without me," he said with a mock pout and Big Sad Puppy Eyes, but quickly switched to a human-style wink. "But I'll make sure we run that one again." Would the Admiral accept if he was invited? He loved that sort of thing on the holodeck and Yoshi smelled stressed when they go back... Rufus dismissed the thought quickly, hoping Mastrel wasn't the kind of Betazoid who picked up thoughts without invitation. "It would definitely be better than the shakedown mission. That ship needs rework - she handled like Tellarite freighter - and the replicators must've been programmed for the holograms, because they did not produce anything with halfway decent scent or taste." His nose crinkled in a way that looked almost like a snarl on a canid face before he swallowed a chunk of roast beef and sighed contentedly. "Soooo glad to be back where there's real food."
The look that Rufus Maocain gave him made Callin stop eating to enjoy a good laugh. The appearance was so uncannily like the Terran dogs! Callin, for the most part, stayed out of people's heads, though it wasn't an exact sort of thing. Just like one couldn't help but see with eyes, or hear with ears, even if one chose to ignore certain things, his awareness was rather broad, especially when it came to the general mood around him, and the intention behind people's spoken word, hence why he he enjoyed the display and the joke. Anything deeper than that would be a severe breach of propriety indeed, so specific thoughts about the Admiral of Esquimalt were safe.
"Sorry to hear that, sir," he said honestly, about the way the Nelson flew, and for the food, almost in equal measure. "I'm sure there'll be plenty of time later for all the official status reports and the like, Lieutenant, but maybe it'll cheer you up more to hear this." Callin wiped his face with a napkin and set down his utensils, in order to convey a little more weight in his next statement, "The department did a good job, all things considered, since I arrived. All the technical stuff is in summaries waiting in your office, but the more personal stuff um..." Callin hesitated slightly, unsure of exactly how his new CO liked to handle things; he left off anything about hard feelings for a transfer coming in to take a position above some of those that had been in the crew longer, or the brief flare up of commissioned vs non-com rivalry. "It's a good team, sir, I could tell that the first day I arrived. They're eager to work. So am I."
In the way that same way that someone might not be able to help but see and hear, Rufus couldn't help but pick up scent. The lovely smell of food could be used to help distract from it, but it was still there; and coupled with body language, which was also a larger part of communication for Kainans, he couldn't help but notice a touch of discomfort. After a few years in Starfleet and on Vesta, he could guess over what. "They are a good team," he agreed, and flashed a canid grin (which also allowed his tongue to lick a touch of gravy off a meat stick). "A bit protective of their department, but I think you'll prove soon enough that you belong. If you haven't already. And commissioned and non-comms both thinking they know more than the other is apparently a Starfleet tradition," he added wryly. The division had thrown him initially since there wasn't quite such a clear line with Kainan forces and his people had become part of the Federation only a generation ago, so there had been some assumptions that had to be adjusted.
Once again, Callin paused, this time with a fork full of rice half-in his mouth. He blinked a couple of times, black eyes surprised and a touch confused, then resumed chewing thoughtfully. "You're not a mind reader too, are you, sir?" he asked a bit rhetorically at last when he'd swallowed, entertained by the notion that the other pilot had sussed out what he'd chosen to hold back. But that was why he was here, why he'd asked for this transfer, and for the responsibilities of being the assistant to a senior officer - so he could learn from Rufus Marocain, not just how to be a better pilot, but how to be a better officer too. Part of that was apparently seeing beyond just plain words. "I'm not usually one to hold much back like that, sir, so with your permission, I'll serve you candidly moving forward. And I'm not worried about any hard feelings from the others. You're right, they'll see I will work hard to earn their respect, and yours."
Rufus chuckled; he wasn't as talented as Morwen, it wasn't the first time someone had been surprised at what he'd picked up on. "Not a mind reader, but," he tapped his long prominent nose, "the nose knows. I can pick up a lot by scent - even when I don't want to - and body language too. Add in the fact that I know my own department and no psychic skills required." He smiled as he tossed a shrimp up and snapped it out of the air. "Please do be candid. Honesty is an important value among my people, and also sort of expected since we can usually scent when someone's lying," he added with a grin. "Also, no need for 'sir'. You're my second in this 'pack', so please, call me Rufus."
"Rufus." Callin gave a toothy grin in return, and then dug back into his food with relish. This was going to be refreshing! The Betazoid way of life called for near-absolute candor with others, for basically the same reason. Try as he might, the young pilot really hadn't gotten the hang of filtering his mouth that much during his time among other races. He could avoid prying into other people's specific thoughts, sure, but avoiding sheer honesty, even when others might hold back on account of their manners, was beyond him. "Vesta's a lot more massive than other things I've flown outside of sims, and I've not done more than that on QS-drive as well, so this is exciting! Plus, a chance to learn from you, Rufus, how to do more than just fly, but how to run things too, be a better officer. That's why I'm here, so I'll appreciate all the opportunity and the honesty, both."
On a certain level it was weird being the officer someone was expecting to learn from; it didn't feel like it had been that long since he'd been a junior officer. Maybe moreso because he was only 19 on paper because of having time skipped three years, but here he was. "You'll get the hang of it soon enough. I started in a fighter, so the move to a starship took a bit of adjustment, but the fundamentals are the same. QS-drive," Rufus smiled a toothy grin, "now that's something the first time you engage it and really feel it happen." He paused for a drink of beef tea. "As for learning how to run things, I think I may learn a bit from you as well. I do my best with humanoid social dynamics, but I have to admit, I miss things sometimes."
Another similarity, though perhaps not surprising. Callin had quickly taken to the pilot's track after entering the Academy, and fighters and shuttles were the first Starfleet craft he'd flown, as was probably the same for many other cadets. He'd stuck to it as well, instead of trying to fast-track into command. Something about Flight Control Blue felt right. At least for now. Already he felt more confident in the assignment and whatever was to come, with how easy it was to fall into rapport with his new superior officer. Aries had been a fine ship, one wouldn't ever catch Callin speaking negativity about his first post, but it had been a lot more formal and strict it seemed that this assignment would be. "Anything I can do to help!" he offered swiftly and tapped the side of his head with two fingers. "I can sorta-cheat on that when needed." Picking up on social cues was easy enough if he was paying attention, at least. "I think this is gonna be fun!" With that, he'd spoken enough for now, he figured, and dug into his own mound of food with nearly as much effort as Rufus used with his.
"I think so too." Rufus smiled as he lifted a huge roast targ leg from his plate. "We're certainly off to good start."
