JL | CDR Valeese, LCDR Stacker | "Night and a Book in the Star Lounge, Pt. 1"

Posted on Wed Oct 18th, 2017 @ 6:31pm by Commander James Stacker & Commander Valeese Stacker

Mission: The Round Table
Location: The Star Lounge | Deck 530 | Cold Station Theta
Timeline: 2000hrs. station time, SD 241710.16

The Star Lounge was Stacker's type of preferred environment in which to spend his off-duty hours. Quiet, relaxed, peaceful, with only a handful of bodies who'd dared to brave the dimmer lighting and subdued atmosphere. This was not a place that favored the hard-working, hard-drinking construction workers who came 'coreward' on the station to blow off steam after a day of hard labor. The fact that they avoided this place was, in fact, what had attracted him here. He had no desire to spend his night rubbing elbows with humans and aliens alike who chugged down alcoholic drinks with eager gusto. That had never been something he'd liked.

So right now, he sat content, swirling his drink in an even-more-quieter corner spot, looking out across the small coffee table at the stars outside. His very posture conveyed that this was a man at peace with the galaxy. Legs crossed, eye patch on - and thus nearly half-blind, leaning back into a very comfortable cushion, one arm up across the back of the curved couch meant to accommodate a few more people but only home to one at this point in time. A faint murmur of conversation came from the shadowed bodies, dimly lit, scattered in various ones and twos throughout the lounge.

His good eye blinked, turning to watch the flashing strobe light of a worker bee making its lazy way across the sky. And some small part of his mind wondered if his night was destined to remain this quiet or not. The corners of his mouth flicked in that telltale sign of amusement, again.

Literature had always been one of Valeese's most favorite escapes, taking her to far away lands and distance times. It was that time of the day, when she got a chance to find it, that had long since become something she looked forward to. It was rare now that the station was beginning to come into her own - what with engineers being bitten by conduits and officers stuck in turbolifts - but when the chance arose, she seized it as quickly as possible. Carpe liber and all that. Much rarer than the time available to sit and read was the fact she'd managed to procure so many ancient hardbound books. Classics, as far as her research could tell, and the Ferengis that had found them for her never seemed to be able to understand her affinity for them - but they took her money none the less. Profit was profit, after all.

Tucked away from mainstream buzz, the lounge had become a perfect hidey hole. Dim light, the stars, the nebula, space in general, provided her the perfect cover and camouflage by which to disappear and escape into the plot lines she loved so much. With the final installment of the Lord of the Rings trilogy in hand, Valeese strode into the lounge and bee-lined towards her usual corner roost only to find it taken by a man that instantly made her sigh in what could almost be conceived as decent. She should have worn a scarf. "Good to see you're still resting that eye, Commander." She fired shot one across his bow while the bright violet of her eyes scanned the half-lights for search of another place to disappear to. Frodo and company were going to have to wait to deliver that damned ring to Mount Doom, she was dealing with her very own Sauron, one eyed and all. Of course that wasn't exactly fair, the spook gave as good as he received and she was partly to blame for that.

He would never have admitted it, but it was very hard to keep his head from snapping around to look at the source of that voice - as was his head did give a telltale twitch to the side, and his fingers - shielded from view by his body - tightened a little around the glass. After a deliberate pause, carefully, he turned to look over his shoulder and was instantly interested in what he saw. It seemed the station's lithe Vorta with an interest in yoga, cats, and romance novels was also interested in ... the title on the spine was hard to pick out at this distance. Its age seemed to radiate in all directions, screaming interestingly and in such a way that quirked his interest for entirely professional reasons. But it was non-professional reasons that forced the corner of his mouth to quirk in amusement as he saw her eyes busy, elsewhere, anywhere but what was in front of her.

"Well yes. Got to keep the doctor happy, after all." He gestured to the couch and slid a little to one side, offering her a space that he himself wasn't crowding. No words were said, though; the choice was entirely hers as to whether to join him. His eyebrow was raised, looking at her with his head tilted invitingly.

Resigning herself to the fate his hand dictated, Valeese stepped carefully around his boot clad feet. It was slim pickings if she wanted a view and somewhere acceptable to curl up and settle in for a decent read - though with him around she truly doubted she'd make much headway into the novel. "Indeed you do. She controls whether you stay on duty or not." She quipped, devoid of the playfulness such a quip was manufactured by, and deposited herself on the soft comfort of her end of the sofa. The book immediately was opened, pages flipped until she found her little beaded marker, and it was only then that she curled her fingers up within the too long sleeves of her extremely oversized, but extremely comfortable, sweater. Being off duty, free to dress as she pleased, was a luxury - and she'd chosen comfort for the occasion; a date with one of Tolkien's masterpieces that would likely soon be shared by a cup, or five, of hot tea. His eyes followed, though, forcing her to read the line And then her heart changed, or at least she understood it; and the winter passed, and the sun shone upon her. no less than four times before she looked up to quietly gaze back, "the Lord of the Rings," She announced, closing the old book to hold it up and show him, "I find it fascinating."

He eyed the book, noting the aged and weather-beaten appearance with a practiced eye. This was no ordinary copy straight from a replicator; it was something more. That analytical and professional side of him had questions. He ignored it. "I read it once. A long time ago," that steady and level voice added. His mouth quirked in wry amusement, head turning as a shadow crossed the table. It was another worker bee, this one closer to the station. "I was never much of one for lugging things between duty stations. Moved around too much. Hopefully I'll be here for longer, and I can do things like -" his voice ended with a trace of wistfulness hiding in the words, even as he gestured to the book. A second later he caught himself and blinked at the sentimental thoughts, shaking his head slightly and apologizing for an excursion into past history. "Sorry. What do you like about it?"

"Things like personal belongings and hobbies?" The Vorta countered more than a little amused. The sense of longing wasn't lost upon her. One didn't need to be a member of one of the most empathic of the known races to pick up and taste that one little emotion he spewed forth from the primordial goo of mystery and whatever well cloaked sentimentality he may possess. In many ways it was comforting, proving that his humanity remained intact and he wasn't completely detached from life as a whole. "It's a story of struggle overcome by the most unlikely of so called heroes. What isn't there to like?" She answered with a small shrug, "Besides... Tolkien's the only writer I know that can take five pages to describe the color green on one particular leaf."

He inadvertently chuckled at the last sentence. Five pages to describe a color on a leaf: he'd forgotten that ... He caught himself, about to wander off down memory lane at the mention of leaves, amusement flitting through his mind all the while. Covering for himself, he took a sip from the glass and tried to recollect thoughts that were already being dangerously distracted. "Well you tell me. I'm the one that hasn't read it in a while. Or are you at the end?" he asked, probing gently, eye looking at the book before going back to her face.

Following his gaze down to the book, Valeese's brows knit and her mouth pursed as if she were in great thought. She remained that way for a moment, or two, before huffing the smallest of sighs and holding the now closed book out to him, the beaded book marker dangling uselessly from between her fingers, "Consider it a house warming gift, or something." She nodded towards him, bouncing the heavy object, enticing him to take it and free what would soon be an aching wrist from its heft.

It was evident that Stacker was wrestling with two competing emotions. The first one wanted to do the chivalrous thing and reject the gift, even at the risk of insulting her. It was clearly of terrific value; it had been brought to a starbase on the frontier. Books of this age simply did not come out all this way from the core Federation worlds, or wherever it had been made, unless there was an actual need for the text. Yet his professional self screamed at him, how much of an opportunity this was. One did not always have evidence in a potential counterintelligence investigation ponied up like this; all it was lacking was a silver tray.

=/\= To Be Continued =/\=

Commander Valdeese
Chief Medical Officer
Cold Station Theta, SB-1170

Lieutenant Commander James Stacker
Chief Intelligence Officer
Cold Station Theta, SB-1170