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Guest Laarell

"A Help in Time of Need"

Tristan swiveled in the seat at the science console, his body moving trying to calm the swirling heat in his mind. The latest announcement by Corizon had only added fuel to the flames in his mind. Standing, he moved towards the turbolift without speaking a word to anyone.


Turning over her own station to automatic-alert mode, the Orion followed him, stepping into the lift after him. "Deck Twelve," she announced, businesslike as ever.


He looked at her, unspeaking, his eyes boring into this insolent being who had dared intrude upon his space.


"Is something the matter?" she asked, quizzically. What was wrong with her lately? Was everyone in "Let's Hate Laarell" mode?


He looked up at the cool metal of the Turbolift walls. "Nothing that concerns you."


"Oh, really?" She smirked slightly. "And why wouldn't it?"


As the turbolift stopped he stepped out, not turning back towards her. "Simply put, you're not Elasian."


She lifted an eyebrow, slightly annoyed. "Sorry, Ensign, but I still happen to be your superior. Spill it."


He stopped at a corner, the Orion was ... following him. He whipped around, his eyes bearing on her like phasers trained on a Bird of Prey. "Are you ordering me to confide in you?" He snarked.


"I am, Ensign." She grinned, knowing exactly who had the upper hand.


He rounded a corner coming to his quarters. "With due respect, ma'am," his raising coming out even in his current state of mind. "I do not believe that is something you can order one to do." He stepped into his quarters, waiting for the door to swish shut.


Laarell followed him, the door finally closing behind her. "It'll affect your work if you don't tell someone, Xenatos."


He turned. She came in my quarters... "Do all Orions pry like this?"


"Not all of us. Many Orions simply would have ordered you to get over your troubles, without a friend to talk them over with."


"Is that what you are trying to be? A friend." His voice laced with anger.


"I do not need charity, ma'am."


"It is not charity to offer friendship." She smiled. "Even an Elasian should know that."


He snarked moving towards the viewport, he did not have the energy to throw her out.


We Elasians are not the ones to speak friendship, apparently." He was not speaking of anyone in this room any longer.


Her face grew dark. "Some sort of conflict?" she asked, sympathetically.


"Have you looked at the communications grid lately?" He just stared out into the stars, his voice was empty, tired...


"Not thoroughly." She took a step towards him, touching his shoulder gently. "Is it bad?"


He did not move his shoulder, he did not feel her touch. "Very."


"Who are they at war with?" she asked, softly.


"Themselves." He sighed, correcting himself. "Ourselves."


"Civil war," she stated. "I'm sorry, Ensign." She smiled reassuring. "It cannot last -- brother against brother."


"It has not started, yet." He looked at the communications console. "At least, last I heard...."


"And now you cannot gain any information at all?" Her brow furrowed. "I understand your worry..."


"Do you?" He turned to look at her. " I should be by his side right now," he said, his eyes moving back to the stars.




"Viktor, my father." He sighed, his grip on the the ledge of the viewport tightening. "He is a leading member of the governing council of my home province. I should be there, helping him ... helping them." He seemed to be talking to himself, not the Orion.


"You're needed here as much as there, Ensign. You know this." She paused, giving him a moment. "What is your province?"


"Corineth. It is an island state." He looked down at the woman beside him, and her hand on his shoulder. "Why are you doing this?"


"You need someone during difficult times." She offered a ready smile. "I may as well be that someone."


He looked at her, not seeing the brash Lieutenant that had followed him here, but instead a woman, trying to help. "Thank you, Lieutenant."


"If there's anything at all I can do to help, please let me know." She gave his shoulder a light pat.


His shoulder relaxed under her hand, as his eyes focused on the blank communications monitor on a shelf across the room. "So far..."


"Nothing, and I'm sorry, but nothing it will have to remain. At least until we reestablish communications with the Alpha. I wish I could help..."


"It's odd," he started.


His eyes defocused, not truly looking at anything. "Odd how we go forth, and explore, keeping in touch with our lives back home through a tether we call a communications grid. Odd how we never notice just how far we have gone until the tether is broken..."


She smirked, a sassy look in her eye. "You flatter me. I'm the one who generally keeps that tether maintained..."


His eyes refocused on her. "Do you really think we will be going back to the Alpha?" He bridged the conversation into the here and now, and out of there then and there.


"Eventually, I'm certain we will." She leaned against the back of a chair, pondering he question. "I doubt Starfleet would put us on permanent patrol of the Outlands..."


He shook his head. "I suppose only time will tell..." His words carryied double meaning the Orion could not possibly understand.


Laarell nodded. "And tell it will." She straightened, taking a step in the direction of the door. "You can feel free to chat with me anytime. I always have a sympathetic ear, you know."


He moved fluidly towards her, placing his hand lightly on her arm. "Wait."


She glanced at his hand before looking into his eyes. "Yes, Ensign?"


"Stay," he said simply, holding her gaze.


She nodded, her arm stiffening slightly under his touch. "As you wish, Ensign," she replied curtly.


He moved his hand off her arm, suddenly wondering what he had done, and why. He seemed to know not what to say, so he just stood there, the tension running tangibly up his spine.


The Orion studied his features for a moment. He was rather attractive, she had to admit. She smiled again, waiting for him to speak.


Her smile threw him, handicapping his already difficult search for words. "I am sorry, ma'am, I am not sure what came over me." He said finally, after what seemed like eons.


"It's perfectly alright, Ensign. I'm rather used to it." She gave him a genuine smile, a twinkle in her eye.


His eyes were clearing, the defenses coming back online. Crossing the room, he sat on the small sofa at the oppisite end of the room. "I am sure you are, considering."


"Considering?" The smile reverted to a smirk.


"Considering you are an Orion." He said matter of factly. "I do not think I need to tell you of all people what that means."


"Of course not. I've lived with it long enough." She tilted her head slightly as she stood. "A pleasure seeing you again, Xenatos. Unless you want me to stay...?"


He shook his head, thankful for the reprieve, still trying to figure out what had come over him. "No, that's ok, ma'am. Thank you." He thanked her genuinely.


"Any time, Ensign." She moved towards the door before pausing again. "And, Ensign... call me Laarell..."


He nodded, his mind racing. "Tristan..." he said. "It's Tristan ... Laarell."


"Tristan." She nodded sharply. "A pleasure to speak with you, Tristan."


"A pleasure," he said as she walked out his door. Then, as the door closed. "Until next we meet, Laarell..."

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