Pan-Galactic Conversation Starter

[Dvokr chim Hok 0]

Pan-Galactic Conversation Starter

Hok & Poldara

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Hok smiled as Anastasia sat across from him at the table. He took a moment to study her body language, mostly centering in on her face. She appeared fatigued. Her eyes told all he needed to know. He poured the multi-colored drink over ice, causing the ice cubes to crack and pop. He placed a thin straw in each glass, each printed with the words: Don't Panic.

 

Anastasia watched him finish the bewildering creation. She was impressed. “Why do we have you stuck at the comm station if you have this hidden talent?”

 

"I only make this one drink and there is not enough room for a bar on the bridge, no matter how much a captain protests," he said with a smile, knowing the kickback the drink had. "The straw is there in cause the first try kicks you in the...rear." He lifted the glass high as customary. "To... um...?"

 

Lifting her own glass, Anastasia said, “To mistakes.” Then, wisely, she did not knock back the entire drink in one go as she might have liked. Instead she took a conservative sip. Her eyes narrowed, and she started to say, “Not really all that--” but couldn’t finish the sentence: her eyes got wider, and she sputtered a little. “Hungh.”

 

He took a slightly larger sample. "I..." he coughed. "Told you it would," his left eye visibly twitched, "kick you back a bit." The drink has already sent a tingle out through his body even as it had not reached his stomach. "To mistakes, may they keep us on the straight and narrow." He finally clinked their glasses together.

 

“Oh, now where would the fun in that be?” Anastasia said with a smirk, sipping a bit more of the drink.

 

"Well, one could alway repeat the same mistake over and over. Is that what's happening?" He took another drink and winced.

 

“Sometimes it feels that way. On the other head--hand, I mean hand, why would I have another head?--it feels like I’m just exceptionally good at finding new mistakes to make.”

 

"New, you mean this last failure, I mean mission? What could possibly go wrong with a cloaking device on a ship not designed for it?" He lowered his voice, being in public and all. "What happened to our dear Chief Engineer was not your fault...or is there something you are not telling anyone?"

 

For a moment, Anastasia didn’t say anything. She stared down into her rapidly disappearing pangalactic gargleblaster. When she looked up, it was with a more serious visage that, for a moment, seemed to transcend the intoxication quickly taking hold. “I should have caught the problem before it became a problem. I have sensors. They should sensed these things.” She waved her glass around, causing some of its contents to slosh out of it and onto the bartop. “It was my idea to overload the cloaking device to allow us to escape from within that planet unharmed. It was because of me it exploded.”

 

"Well, is was a grand explosion, and it did save us." Hok's face started to turn red as the cinnamon in the drink started to travel back up the back of his throat. "Oh, phase two of the drink is coming. Anyway, even under the best circumstances these things happen, and I'm sure the doctors on the station are doing all that they can for Mr. Randall." Ending on that point may not have been the best move, but moves were not what Hok was known for among his friends. He placed his right hand on hers. "Don't let what happened plague what you do tomorrow. Guilt can eat you like a Ceti Alpha larvae. One bad decision, then another... so on.. whew.. you get the gist."

 

Anastasia narrowed her eyes at him. “You sound like a counselor now. I thought we were wallowing.”

 

"How does that make you feel?" He smiled.

 

“Like throwing this drink in your face, were it not for the fact that I must drink it all. For I would not want to be rude.” She frowned, then shrugged, then drank. “You’re right, of course. You’re right. You are right. I’ve already made so many mistakes, what’s a few more behind me? Besides, I did warn him to get out of there. Hopefully he’ll know to run faster next time.”

 

"Your behind is not a mistake, I... oh my." Looked at his drink. "Crap, well, improvements can always be made," his face was two shades of red. He drank again and removed his hand. "Why do you make these mistakes, or, well, that sounds crass. What do you think is going on? Something at home bugging you?"

 

Anastasia muttered something, charitably, about Hok having “nice tufts,” but glared slightly when he segued into talking about “home.” The very idea was something she was no longer certain about. Home had once been … well, home had once been a definite concept, and now that was no longer the case. Home was probably Challenger, and that turn of events surprised no one more than her. “Change bothers me. Or, not change. Certain changes. I …” at this, she ran her finger around the rim of her glass, absently, as if reluctant to make this admission, “... miss certain people. But that doesn’t bring them back to you.”

 

"You know what," he spat out of his mouth, smashing his glass down on the table. Everyone close by stopped their chatter. "That damned Cassie went and let the ship!" He looked disappointingly at the table. "I was rather fond of her, someone that would at least talk to me other than through the comm system. I know she did not leave because of me, but it sure feels like it."/

 

“There, there.” Anastasia reached out and patted Hok on the hand. “I’m sure that wasn’t it. And I’ll talk to you outside of the comm system! I just thought you might like hiding behind it. Like a shield.”

 

"I," she was right of course. It's easy to bury yourself in your work, and working the communications on and off the ship sure helped. Hok reached for the last remaining ounces of the drink, splitting the remains between the two of them. "I think you are right. What a damned mess, the communications officer that does not communicate."

 

They were silent, then Anastasia asked, “Did we just have … a moment?”

 

"Is that what they call it? This drink does strange things, but yes, I think we did."

 

“Well, whatever you do, don’t tell anyone. I had ‘a moment’ with Commander Rinax recently, and she’s never going to let me live it down. Last thing I need is word getting around I want to make friends.” Anastasia gave a sort of snort-giggle, which did little to clarify whether or not she was sarcastic.

 

Hok found the snort a bit charming in a Tellarite sense. "I only listen. I don't talk, remember?" He thought a moment. "If you like these unfriendly sessions, I can always make this drink again."

 

If only Anastasia knew what she wanted, that would simplify her life. Instead of replying with this, however, she simply knocked back the last dregs of the gargleblaster and tried to look him straight in the eye as her arm, shaking, put the glass back on the table. “You’re on.”