Dinner Post

Posted on Fri Apr 29th, 2022 @ 3:01am by Captain Calypso Skyie & Lieutenant Commander Alexander Espersen

Mission: Pirates! (Or Yo Ho Ho And A Bottle Of Yum)
Location: Promenade Restaurant, Starbase 614

Like a Princess.

That had been the request of Alexander Espersen to Calypso that previous morning, and even though she knew that he'd been ribbing her about it (probably), she'd decided to take up the challenge. A decade ago, fifteen years? It probably wouldn't have taken her so long to get ready, but she was forty now and getting ready took her what seemed like forever. She'd budgeted about two hours, but now she was striding across the promenade decking twenty minutes behind schedule, feeling the eyes following her as she did so as gracefully as she could.

Like a Princess.

The gown she'd chosen was diaphanous silver, the layer closest to her skin the most opaque, concealing her body from eyes that sought what was underneath, the outer layer more flowing and translucent, almost like a silver mist. Strapless, sleeveless, the new scar on her shoulder evident, and the skirt on the dress ended five inches from the ground and was slit to her mid thigh on the right, providing a look at a long, slim leg with every step. Her shoes were also of a silver, two inch heels that almost seemed like they couldn't support her, held onto her feet by delicate silver straps that revealed pink-painted toes to go with her fingernails.

Like a Princess.

She nearly snorted in laughter at that thought, but it would have gone against the nature of her face, made up to as close to perfection as she could make it, with silver eyeshadow and a light pink lipstick with the faintest hint of blush on her cheeks, eyes lined to accentuate their shape. Her long blonde hair was still flowing, but with luxurious curls framing her face but brushed back past her right shoulder, exposing a silver bar earring dangle, a silver headpiece shaped like flowers starting from the hairline above her right eye and working around towards the back of her hair, helping keep her right shoulder clear of the curls.

She approached the entrance of the restaurant, conscious of the eyes on her as she gave what she sincerely hoped was a demure smile to the maitre-de , "I believe my party is already here, Espersen would be the name."

“Right this way, madame,” he replied, bowing before showing her inside.

Alexander was at their table, one of the best in the house, along the large window which opened toward the vastness of space. To the other side was the fireplace, its stone hearth made of precisely cut pieces, looking every bit as refined as the rest of the décor. Black, white, grey, and silver dominated the space, with the only hint of colour being accent pieces of vibrant red.

The First Officer himself had not needed to take as much time getting ready, men’s fashion being generally easier and more timeless. At the advice of the station’s tailor, a Bajoran woman who had been practising her craft for decades and who knew where he was dining, why, and with whom, had suggested the navy blue velvet double-breasted suit, Italian cut, with a white dress shirt and pocketsquare and a dark blue tie, and a pair of black oxfords. His cufflinks were the dash of character separating him from countless other men in similar attire, brass with the symbol of the Crown of Denmark and the year of his birth.

He had shaved just an hour prior, and never more carefully, for a bloody gash would not do. He stopped at the tailor shop on his way for the jacket, which needed to be altered for him.

The tailor joked that she had a daughter he should meet, before he left to make his reservation, dressed to the nines and carrying a gift box under his arm.

And at the table, he stood as he saw the Maître d’ escort his superior officer into the establishment. He meant to be gallant, lead her to her seat, and push her chair in, but found himself flummoxed. Frozen.

Staring.

A sound from the kitchen broke his reverie. He met her as she reached the table.

“Cally. My god… Words escape me.” He extended his arm to lead her the final two steps.

She placed her hand onto his arm with a smile for the last steps, leaning up and brushing a kiss on his cheek, "You don't look bad yourself, Alex, thanks." She was only an inch shorter than him now, so it wasn't much of a reach. He pulled out the chair for her and she delicately seated herself as he expertly slid the chair under the table and she retrieved her hand.

That wasn't before she'd gotten a good look at his cufflinks and put a couple points together from his file and smiled lightly, "You did say I should become a princess, didn't you? I'm glad I didn't disappoint you."

“Actual royalty couldn’t compare,” he said as he took his own seat. “I have something for you.” He reached under the table and brought out a box twelve by nine by one inch, with a removable lid. “To congratulate you on your promotion.”

Intrigue arched an eyebrow on Calypso’s face, “I can’t say I’ve ever had a gift for getting a promotion, so this is definitely a new experience for me.” She slowly undid the ribbon and opened the box to see a drawing, portrait even, of the Chimera herself, done expertly in pencil and shaded to perfection. Her eyes opened wide in surprise, smile leaking across her face in sheer pleasure at the sight. Not daring to take it out of the decorative box, she traced a finger across the edge of the container as she drank it in, “This is beautiful… Absolutely gorgeous!”



“I thought you might like it,” Alexander said. “Most people called Captain have some depictions of their ship somewhere. Their quarters, or Ready Room. That extra pip means you need one for yourself. Tomorrow, I’ll be glad to help you hang it wherever you like.”

“I don’t just like it, I love it!” Cally gently placed it on the table then leaned forward out of her chair and gently grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him towards her, planting a firm yet sensual kiss on his lips before releasing him and sitting back in her chair. There was hardly any risk, with them both dressed like civilians, “I… Really love it.” She said softly.

Alexander couldn’t stop the flush to his cheeks. He had not been expecting that. Not that it wasn’t welcome.

“I’m glad,” was all he could say. He cleared his throat and picked up the menu. “The chef here is very particular. The menu changes all the time and is very small, and the sommelier pairs everything perfectly. Whatever you pick, you’ll almost certainly never have it again.”

“That means I actually get a choice?” Calypso asked, slight smile on her face as she picked up her own menu, “Most chefs like that go on a ‘you get what I give you’ basis, which like you said, means it’s rarely a bad choice at all.”

“She likes to give the option to encourage a more diverse crowd,” Alexander explained. “Just because she wants upscale to the extreme doesn’t mean she wants to exclude the Andorian royal family by serving something toxic to them. And they bring in real meat, which some dislike, so there’s always something meatless. No choice on the wine though.” He sat up straighter and took on a more haughty voice. “You can’t just put any wine with any food, after all.”

"I wouldn't even try, I'm usually a beer or whiskey type of person myself, but I can handle my wines." Cally smiled, "I think I'll go with the Rastoran Chicken myself, or at least that collection that it looks like."

“I’ll be going with the Quadran beef Wellington,” said Alexander.

The waiter came and took their orders, beginning with the Princess and ending with her charming date, never knowing they were Starfleet command Officers.

“We are ready to cast off,” Alexander continued. “Tomorrow morning, oh-nine-thirty hours. Will you want to be on the bridge, or will you be below decks for the entire trip?”

"Well, this is just the first one, a milk run." Cally shrugged, "One we can probably do in our sleep while the other freighters actually get here. Then comes the real one. But if we don't make this run, it'd look suspicious that we're just getting altered for a single trip." She pursed her lips, "I'll let you take lead on it, but we'll run a bunch of simulations for the week and you never know, they may poke their heads out for us here, too."

Alexander nodded. "My first command. A defanged cobbled together Q-ship."

The waiter came back with two bottles of wine, the ones that paired with their meals, and poured a tasting amount in Cally's glass.

Cally swirled it in her glass and took a gentle sniff before taking an equally delicate sip. It turned out that the etiquette lessons she'd had to take after becoming an XO had paid off, even though she wasn't quite sure what the purpose of smelling and tasting a wine was all about. She smiled at the waiter and nodded graciously at his inquisitive look, "Thank you." That never hurt to do. Once he left, she smiled across the table again, "Well, if we're going to be the Aegean Sea then posture as the Aegir, we do need to look the part, don't we?"

The waiter had done the same with Alexander and his own wine pairing before filling their glasses and leaving.

"An interesting metaphor," Alexander said. "I don't want to say much here, in a public space, but Jenna and I have been running simulations with the new toys I was telling you about. They should work." Then he smiled. "But perhaps we shouldn't talk work now. There's plenty of time for that once we've pushed off. You told me you play tennis, swim, and like to fly when you can. What else? What does the Lady Skyie do on her off-duty time when the pool is being cleaned and the tennis courts are claimed?" He grinned, having fun playing the game of nobility in this extremely fancy establishment.

Cally had to force herself not to look around and laugh at that conspiracy, “Truth be told, I rather quite enjoy curling up with some old Earth science fiction.. I think I’ve read most of the Star Wars books three or so times, yes I also include both the ‘canon’ books as well as what they call the ‘Expanded Universe’, which I happen to think were better. Others like Battlestar Galactica and Space Pirate Harlock are also rather good.” She tittered as a noble on an outing might, “And while you don’t see Artemis around often, you’ll see me around with her here and there. She enjoys going on adventures on her own and I has been trained how to manually use the turbolift to go from deck to deck. I… Inherited her from one of my crew mates that didn’t make it off my last ship.”

Artemis? he wondered. Probably not a child, that would’ve come up earlier. A pet, then. Probably not a cat, given her comment on training, and it would likely be at least a bit bigger than a cat to touch a turbolift console.

“What breed of dog is Artemis?” he ventured. He didn’t press for details on what happened that she inherited it. This was a time for pleasant conversations.

"She's a beagle, I had Jenna install a small touch pad near the bottom of the turbolift that she can paw at or touch her nose to. It'll take her up or down depending on the deck she's on and can't take her to a dangerous deck." Cally chuckled, "She's a smart cookie, Tara actually trained her to be a hunting dog and took her on leave when she'd go back to Earth for a couple weeks every few months to do some of that. Very well behaved, and easy to bribe with a few treats or a belly rub."

“Good to know, if ever I need her help getting into your good graces,” Alexander joked. “I never had pets growing up. Despite the terraforming, Mars outside the cities wasn’t good for dogs. We could protect ourselves from the UV, but they can’t, and even with the dome cities there wasn’t enough space inside for it to be good for them. And Britta was allergic to cat fur.” Then he smiled again and let out a chuckle. “And Sigrid was terrified of most small animals. So no pets in the Espersen home.”

"We didn't have any pets ourselves, but that was for another reason entirely. My parents were archaeologists, so one or both of them was constantly away from home. With my brother and me and Elysia, my little sister, they didn't really trust us to take care of another critter." Cally chuckled herself, "With Artemis, it was either I adopt her or Halcyon, since we were the only two surviving senior officers, the only ones who were around her all the time. Hal was probably the better choice, but he was hesitant about it so I jumped on it, I couldn't leave her by herself, the poor thing."

“It was the right call,” Alexander said, just as the appetizer course came out, each very light and made precisely to complement the incoming main course. His was an overly fancy deconstruction of a Caesar salad which he couldn’t describe if he wanted to, but which smelled divine. “I hope your appetizer is as garlicky as mine. I wouldn’t want to offend. Velbekomme.”

She had also received a salad, this one more of a Chef’s salad, but she dug into the more substantial appetizer with relish, picking combinations from the neat little piles that struck her fancy, “No garlic, but tasty nonetheless.” She smiled over the delicate bite she’d balanced on the fork, “But I’m not familiar with that word… ‘Velbekomme’, it’s one of those Earthen languages, Spanish, if I miss my guess?”

“Danish, actually,” he replied. “In the early 2100s, as United Earth was becoming more and more real, many Earth nations, either alone or in collaboration, built colony ships and sent them around Sol System or for the nearest few star systems. Several hundred men and women from Denmark built the New Copenhagen dome city on Mars, and generations later Danish was still being spoken in that settlement and its outskirts, where my sisters and I were born and raised.” He lifted a fork speared with lettuce, bacon, and creamy dressing. “Velbekomme is a sincere wish to enjoy your meal.”

“Stradosh.” Cally raised her glass of wine in salutations, “I may not know Danish, but I do know my own native Betazoid tongue.” She smiled slightly, “I also sing, not bad at it but I’m not that good either. I held a karaoke night while we were on our way out here, so you’d be surprised at some of the talent we’ve got on board. I think I need to take up another hobby, though, probably something a bit less energetic, but not sure what to do.”

“Have you tried drawing?” Alexander asked. “Or painting? Visual art is very calming. I find it meditative.”

“My stick figures are crippled, usually they use one of their arms as a cane to get around.” Cally laughed out loud, drawing attention to them so she covered her mouth and gave a sheepish look, “I’m really not good at art, I’ve always been a physical person, which is why I tend to find myself with little injuries here and there.”

"Well, I'm not sure how you're going to mesh 'looking for a less energetic hobby' with 'physical person', but if you figure it out, let me know," he said with a wink. "The only examples I can think of are 'enjoy sauna' or 'enjoy massage'. Both of which are fantastic, but I'm not sure they meet with your objective of a new hobby."

"Mm.... Professional massage salon inspector, perhaps a second career? Go around getting massages from everywhere I can go, write reviews, report deficiencies?" Cally nodded as her empty salad plate was whisked away with his, "But I'll get to thinking on it... What about you, though? Anything that you get in trouble with in your off hours?"

"Aside from drawing?" Alexander replied. "I do go to the ship's gym almost every day. I have since before I was a teen. I like to hike and explore the outside if I can, and the holodeck is a decent substitute for that. Camping is a nice treat that I'll try to indulge if we're staying above a planet for long enough. Funnily enough, I might be the one engineer in Starfleet who doesn't tinker in my spare time."

"That's intriguing, perhaps I'll have to join you for something like that. Sleeping bags, marshmallows, all that?" Cally grinned, then caught herself and dropped it to a smile again, she had to make sure she stayed the part, "Ghost stories by a fire?"

“The stars as your ceiling,” Alexander added.

The main courses came out and looked like nothing he had ever seen. As if the concept of fine cuisine had been broken down into its constituent components and rebuilt by the personal chef of a Queen from mythology to be the single fanciest thing any sentient being would ever see. Alexander was no chef, but he recognized certain techniques that were taught by only a handful of masterchefs Federation-wide.

“Before we eat,” he said, “we should toast.” He raised his glass of paired wine and allowed his Captain to suggest something.

"To Chimera," Calypso raised her own glass, a white that seemed to be paired perfectly with what was in front of her, "May the bad bitch carry us into trouble and out again in one piece... Or at least in few enough to put back together."

"Well said." Alexander clinked her glass with his. "And may she permit us to bring home the same number of sentient beings we left with, if not more."