Dining on High

Posted on Thu Jan 19th, 2023 @ 5:39pm by Fleet Captain Maxwell Culver & Commander Vianola Paxidor & Colonel Galen s'Khev

1,767 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Mission One: Goodwill Tour [Part One]
Location: Golden Towers: Tower 2, VIP Suite
Timeline: MD6: 1900 hours

Captain Maxwell Culver, in full dress uniform, he certainly couldn’t deny his position on what he and Starfleet hoped were the first steps toward a lasting peace between them and the Empire. He wasn’t privy to the details of how any other diplomatic forays were going on with the other two Romulan independent states.

Having studied Romulan dining etiquette in the holodeck - for the better part of day - Max could only hope he had learned and practiced enough to make it through this event.

The holo-doc had given Max a drug cocktail that would increase the metabolism of Romulan Ale, so he couldn’t make a drunken fool of himself, or be poisoned by ‘Purge’.

With a glass in his right hand, Max stood with his back to the door, looking out over the city below. It was impressive and vertigo inciting at the same time. Still, he turned to the woman who had become his anchor with his new abilities. Vianola was also dressed in her dress uniform, she looked smart - maybe even dangerous in her quietude.

Turning to Galen, Max thought he felt a moment of concern but it was brushed aside for his typical appearance. “Are you concerned I’ll cock this up, Colonel s’Khev?”

"Not at all Captain." Galen began and then turned to level his look on Max. "Permission to speak freely." The ever deferential Colonel asked.

“Of course,” Max responded. “Especially under these circumstances.”

When the permission was granted he continued to speak. "I am concerned that you will enjoy yourself too much. I offer advice now as your XO and a Romulan. My people do not like ostentatious shows during large events. It is quite the opposite, we pride ourselves on the reserved nature of our large gatherings. All of that said I, encourage you to curb your appetites." The tone in which Galen spoke right now was one of genuine respect, a lot different from the way he had normally spoken to the Captain.

Vianola had smiled at Max as he had turned to her before speaking to Galen. Yes, they were close but she was still quite annoyed by the fact he had kept the poisoning to himself. At the very least, she felt he should have told her as a friend, as the security chief of the station and as a fellow sister of his species.

Her quietness was her way in the situations. Pomp and circumstance was never something she was comfortable with, that was why she still wore yellow and not red. Now as a Second Officer, she found herself in more of these situations where she needed to 'dress up' and 'play the part'. For the moment she zoned herself back in as Galen spoke to the Captain.

“I will refrain from drinking much more than a glass or two of ale,” Max answered. “It would be rude to turn down the offering, especially in its scarcity now. Otherwise, I’ll drink water, Colonel.”

Max could sense a growing concern from Vi, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it directly. It had been growing since his recovery, so he would have to talk to her alone and soon.

Vi smiled as Max's gaze moved over to her. She could feel it before it happened as with her empathic sense she always got a bit of a heads up before the fact. "Yes, I think a few glasses to show respect would be fine. Aside from that security is tight and I am not expecting any trouble." she said, never switching off.

Max smiled at Vi. “Between you and the Romulan Guard, I’m sure this place is locked down tight.”

Max was about to continue when the Senator’s aide entered. Looking quite regal in long gray robes, Max was reminded of elven kind in the Terran books of J.R.R. Tolkien. His tone was soft but resounding in the hall. “I present to you Senator V’trel, your honorable host and keeper of the city, Golden Towers.”

V’trel entered, dressed somehow more pronounced than his aide. His robes flowed long behind him and he carried a black staff with three golden spires. An entourage streamed out from behind him and took places at the dining table, leaving three closest to V’trel on the right side.

Taking his cue, Max motioned his crew to stand behind the empty chairs as the Romulans were doing. When all had gathered in their place, V’trel intoned, “My friends, I welcome you all to my dinner table. Please join me in the traditional supper feast!”

V’trel shrugged off his robes and his aide gathered them and retrieved the black staff before disappearing. Under his robes, V’trel wore a sleek black outfit that was not reminiscent of Romulan attire.

As he sat, he looked at the trio of seabase newcomers to his table. “I apologize for the traditional introduction; my sycophantic city council required it. Please, make yourselves comfortable and don’t rely on old traditions.”

"That's alright, Senator. Sometimes it's nice to have an old fashioned entrance. Reminds me of old books I used to read back on Earth." Vi's Irish lilt floating through her words. She cast her mind back to those books in which powerful people always got a herald to announce their arrival into courts of kingdoms of old to meet their Kings and Queens.

Max smiled at VI’s comment before adding, “Besides, if you’re able to reconcile and reunite with the other two Romulan factions, they might prefer to keep some of the old traditions. They make people comfortable in times of turmoil. Don’t you agree, Colonel s’Khev?

"Traditions do have a way of keeping things in order. Jolan Tru Senator it is an honor to be in your presence. This city truly is a jewel on this planet." Galen turned on the charm continuing with the tradition. Truth was Galen liked that the Senator had a little contempt for the old ways.

V’trel nodded with a bit of a frown. “Traditions are shackles that hold us to the past while preventing us from realizing the future, Colonel. The Starfleet officers understand this, they follow a minimum of traditions. Isn’t that correct, Captain?

Max was caught mid-sip of his glass of water.

Before Max could answer Galen chimed up again. "True that traditions could be shackles of the past. However, our past helps shape the future. Does it not? If it were not for what came before would you even be sitting here, Senator?"

“Likely, I would be sitting in the Romulan Senate, if not for our recent history, Colonel. We would not be anywhere near this planet and we might be having this conversation there. Either way, the question stands, Captain.”

“I would argue that the United Federation of Planets, and Starfleet, both utilize centuries old traditions, Senator. Despite being a scientific endeavor, Starfleet still operates on many of the traditions of naval forces dating back almost a millennia now. That said, traditions of all cultures can not be displayed in a Federation such as ours. In a way, Starfleet is a delicate balance of traditions.

“Wouldn’t you agree, Commander Paxidor?”

Vi had been tucking into the food already. She wasn't one for wasting a good meal. In a family of her size battles were fought on a dinner table. She turned to face the Captain as he asked his question and she gulped a little louder than she wanted so she could speak.

"Well... I think some traditions are worth keepin’. I think giving people the respect of their titles and careers they have built are still needed much like how you entered the room. You've worked hard Senator, for yourself and for your people. I think you deserve the tradition of being announced and people taking note of your achievements." Vi spoke. "But there are some that I think are outdated and need changed. People evolve, societies change and grow into entities that don't need those shackles." she said taking a sip of her water. "I mean back in old Earth days you could challenge a man to a duel by slapping them with a hand garment... now that's just mad." She laughed more to herself than anything before getting back to her point.

"What I'm tryin’ to say is, balance." Vi held out her hands and did the whole balancing of a scale gesture. "Old traditions have led us to a point where we don't need them anymore, but you wouldn't be here without them. In the same instance, keeping some does keep a sense of decorum and safety. If we lose everything that made us what we grew up to be then, well, my ancestors would be spinnin’ in their graves..." she paused as all eyes appeared to be on her. "Captain." she said finishing her words and diving into her glass to hide.

Yet again Galen found that he misjudged Vi on their first meeting. In this situation he fully agreed with everything she had said. He was happy that she was able to articulate what he seemed to be unable to find the words for. He raised his glass. "Well said. Here here."

Max nodded in deference to Vi’s words. “Let me ask one more, slightly dangerous question, Senator. Would you be willing to give up the ceremonial entrance and decorum for a place in Starfleet or the Federation Council?”

Senator V’trel appeared as though Max had produced a venomous snake. “I would NEVER allow that. We are a proud people, Captain.”

“So tradition is important to you,” Max responded calmly. “You see, Senator, my point is we are all shackled by our past and traditions. You to yours and we to ours. To throw them away would be as dangerous as the question I’ve just proposed to you, Senator, but the question is still open. The future and its traditions are yet to be made.”

V’trel cocked his head. “You have made a good point, Captain. Certainly one I that will place a heavy burden on my mind and my shoulders as we reach to something new.”

V’trel paused and looked at his sycophants and his guests. Suddenly, he knew with whom he would prefer to company with. “Eat well, my new friends. For this feast is truly in your honor!” V’trel settled into his chair, his head spinning with such new thoughts as he had never had.

 

RSS Feed