First Contact

[A Davis 0]

First Contact
A Joint Log by Cdr Chirakis and Amanda Davis

 The first time she saw him her heart almost stopped.

 As Amanda Davis turned the corner approaching the turbolift on the USS Missouri, out stepped Ambassador Drankum accompanied by one of the most breathtaking species she’d ever seen.

 A Sindar! Captain d’Ka… is a Sindar! It was such a shock, albeit a pleasant one, that she could hardly take her eyes off him.

 Though she’d never seen a Sindar, she was certainly familiar with their history, and with certain characteristics peculiar to their species.

 The Sindar were a previously sequestered race from a system hidden on the fringe of the galaxy. They were a peaceful people – diplomats and scientists, erudite analysts and eager explorers of the universe. But for all their peaceful purposes, they were skilled warriors, and they seldom ventured openly beyond their borders except for exploration.

 Until they were forced into it.

 As it has been for so many peace-loving species, the Sindar were eventually compelled to defend themselves from not-so-peaceful interlopers who found the system to their liking and sought to eradicate the system’s original inhabitants. Fortunately, the conquerors became the conquered and the Sindar realized they could no longer remain aloof from happenings outside their system. They formed few alliances, but they did have a mutual agreement with the Federation.

 Because of their reclusive nature, it was a rare occasion to see a Sindar, much less to meet one. There were few in Starfleet, and those few were generally posted in the outer regions. It made perfect sense, then, that the USS Missouri – a heavily armed Akira class starship in the Frontier Task Force – would be commanded by someone who had a thorough knowledge of the area.

 After having seen Captain d’Ka, Amanda understood the legends that his species engendered – stories similar to those of the elves, sprites, and gnomes of Terran folklore. She had to admit that, despite his powerful six-foot frame, he did somewhat resemble an elf. And his very presence took her breath away.

As the Captain navigated the corridor, his footfalls, though purposeful, fell silent on the decking, and his every move carried all the grace of a dancer. His eyes were focused and penetrating, their color changing from lavender, to blue, then to a deep hazel hue, depending on his mood and the intensity of his concentration. Silken strands of flaxen hair were cropped in regulation cut just above delicately pointed ears – which ears, Amanda knew, registered sound well outside the range of human hearing. His skin glowed periodically, the result of an intricate neurological system whose subcutaneous sensors detected subtle biological changes in those around him. Altogether, he had the aura of an ethereal being.

 As the two approached, the Captain fell behind the Ambassador’s painfully slow pace and, to Amanda’s surprise, he stopped next to her.

 “Counselor Davis,” he began, his hand extended to grip hers firmly in the typical human greeting, “Captain d’Ka. At some point we must speak. In private.”

 So, they are telepaths, she thought, and he certainly gets right to the point.

 “Your badge?” He replied to what she suddenly realized was a bewildered expression stemming from her previous thoughts. He pointed to the identification tag all of the Aegis crew had been given and finished with a slightly amused expression. “Dead giveaway. Shall we say… one hour? In the Officers Lounge? Deck seven?”

 “Of course. One hour. Deck seven.” she blurted, still spell-bound as d'Ka turned to follow the Ambassador towards the Observation Lounge.

Exactly one hour later she found herself sitting at the Captain’s table, negotiating a new hurdle. If his appearance were not enough to break her concentration, his voice was mesmerizing. It was more intonation than speech, more song than words, and it took every bit of counselor training to get past it, to listen to his concerns about the crew – but she did manage.

 “... of course you understand my concern, which I am sure is the same as yours. And… I would like to know how we can help. Beyond offering them accommodation, I mean.” A natural upturn at the corners of his mouth made it look like he was smiling, but the color of his eyes told her otherwise. They had slipped into deep purple. His forearms rested lightly on the table and he pressed his fingers together in a contemplative manner.

 She let his words hang a moment to gather her thoughts before replying. “It’s only been seven hours, Captain d’Ka. They’ve lost their station, some have lost their homes and most of their possessions. They are still in shock. The best thing at this point, besides professional counsel, is to focus on the future and to work towards that. Getting them back into a routine is probably the best thing you can do, and you’ve certainly done your share in that regard.”

 “And the Ambassador? I find him,” he paused, as though searching for words, “difficult to… read. To… understand.”

 Sarcastic remarks, like you’re telling me, and take a number came to mind, but she refrained.

 “He’s in shock as well, Captain. Perhaps more so than the rest of us, but I dare say in a different way. In his mind, the station belongs to the Ferengi Alliance, and hence to him. I’m not sure, but I believe its loss may be akin to… going bankrupt? Which for us would be like losing a child.”

 A sharp intake of breath followed by a flash of violet in his eyes brought Amanda up short, and she realized she may have inadvertently touched a nerve. But a call from the bridge ended their conversation and he left, with the understanding they would talk again. Soon.

 Amanda followed him with her gaze, more than one question, more than one curious thought accompanying her stare until it was interrupted by her own page from sick bay. Bodies, minds and spirits had been broken. For her, as for everyone, there would be little rest for some time to come.