Enlisted Lunch

Posted on Sunday, 5 July 2020 - 4:04pm by Lieutenant Talarn Zilth

Mission: Operation: Jabberwocky
Location: Enlisted Mess Hall
Timeline: 2393 - MD00

{ON:}

Tilian had decided to take lunch in the enlisted mess. It was usually quiet and today was one of those days that he was hoping for and there was one empty table. He took it for sure. He set his tray down and began to methodically unpack it.

Talarn Zilth was the next person through the door of the mess. He had also picked the enlisted mess hall because it was quiet, crowded, but quiet. Even now, at mostly max capacity, the enlisted men and women spoke softly or not at all. He went to the replicator and stood in front of it for several moments, longer than most people really needed to work the replicator, but he was having a really hard time even settling on what he wanted to eat. He finally decided on some sort of human dish he hadn't tried and that Barrett had not made for him, although, when it appeared it looked amazingly like spaghetti with big hollow noodles instead of the long stringy ones. He wasn't unsatisfied though and took his tray, turning away from the replicator with it in hand. He surveyed the room slowly, his eyes roaming past Tilian several times before he finally decided and headed for the one table with only one person at it, Tilian. "May I sit?" he asked of the Yeoman, softly.

Tilian looked up. His mind went again to the universe and it's joke putting him on ships with extremely good looking people. "Of course, Sir." He motioned. "Please join me." He recognized Talarn as the CO's husband. He'd been meaning to speak with him anyway. He'd spoken to the chief science officer, the spouse of the XO. It was only right he spoke to the CO's spouse.

Talarn set his tray down and then sat heavily in the chair opposite Tilian. "Thank you..." he said, softly again. "I'm sorry to take your solitude, but there don't seem to be many seats available today." He smiled a little awkwardly, his brow ridges lifting a little and the light on the panel over his right eye started to blink rapidly. "Your name is Grol... yes?"

"Indeed. You are Talarn Zilth. It is good to meet you." He motioned. "No need to apologize. Solitude is something I have a lot of. There are those who would argue that I need to have my solitude disrupted." He smiled awkwardly too.

Talarn chuckled. "That's not something I'm unfamiliar with. It was part of the reason that Barr... I mean the captain and I chose Prairie for our home." He picked up his fork and started to poke around at his food, looking at it intently. Most of it was because he was processing the deep sense of longing he still felt for their life there and part of it was because he wasn't really sure if he wanted to eat these strange noodles.

Tilian looked up. "It is alright. He is your husband. You may use his first name. It is for us to call him captain, those whom he commands." He paused. "This has been difficult for you." It wasn't a question so much as a statement.

Talarn nodded in agreement and lifted his fork with several noodles on it. "It has. I feel betrayed by an organization that I had dedicated my life to... and now that they've decided that they need my husband, here I am again... still being ignored. This ship has been very welcoming." He put the forkful of noodles in his mouth and started to chew, his eyes drifting from the plate to Tilian.

"Indeed. Starfleet has a long way to go before it is what it once was." He paused. "What they did was a betrayal and I can only imagine what it is like to leave a settled life that you enjoyed to come into all this." He motioned to the ship. "I also believe that love is important. I shall ensure that the Captain is home as early as possible. It is actually what I was going to speak with you about."

Talarn tipped his head to one side, taking a second bite of his food. It wasn't so bad after all. Tasted very familiar in fact, just strange noodles. He wasn't really sure what Tilian was speaking of, Talarn was completely aware that Barret's job would take his time. "Home?" he asked.

"Indeed. Captains tend to work too much and too long. I have been assigned, well to be honest, requested, for that purpose. Commander Soral sent in a request that I join the ship when he found out that the CO had a husband. He wanted me to ensure that both Commander Stillwater and he got home at decent times. He did not want either of them to neglect their spouses because of the ship. I do that by taking on an administrative aspect. I do the work they just review sign and amend."

Talarn's brow ridges furrowed. He still didn't quite understand. "I appreciate that?" It was more of a question, because he was also familiar with what a Yeoman did. He didn't know how any of these things were related though. Captains still spent the time they needed to spend. He had seen it many times. "I'm sure that we won't be going home anytime soon," he said softly. "I know he will spend long hours."

"I will try to ensure they are not longer then they absolutely have to be. Coincidentally, if you wish time blocked for daily lunches I shall do this as well." He paused and regarded the Cardassian. "I am sorry this has been rough. I know how important solitude is and how it being disrupted can affect everything."

Talarn nodded again, still in agreement. "It is not your fault and I definitely feel no malice towards you in this matter. I would love it if time could be blocked, but I also know that blocked or not it will not always be the way of things. I am at least glad that I'm prepared for what is required."

Tilian was taken aback. "You are a very good man, Mr. Zilth. I can see why the Commander loves and values you. I could not be as understanding." He smiled. "I would probably demand breakfast, lunch, and dinner to be blocked out."

Talarn chuckled. "It is tempting to ask, but asking or wishing for something do not make it so." He tipped his head again, looking at Tilian, in a rather studying fashion. "Do you read? I like to read crime novels... Barret introduced me and I haven't really been able to put them down. There's something about a good mystery that I truly enjoy, but, as always, I have had many questions over the years about the behavior of humans... One of the first things that came to my notice was that all of these detectives and police... as they call them... in these stories are alone and divorced, without mates. I finally asked Barret, first what divorce was... my people have no such thing... and why these people have no mates when they seem so caring and noble." He leaned back away from his food, eyeing Tilian across the table. "Barret pointed out to me that they were men consumed by their work... oftentimes what drove them to be detectives in the first place. This I understood and it seemed a consistent trait across the board, leading me to believe that they share this trait. What I didn't understand and still don't understand... is why someone would marry a person with this sort of dedication and desire and then punish them for their expenditure of time. It makes no sense. If you knew... why let it become a point of contention that will drive you apart? Barret tried many times to explain. I am just not that kind of man, Tilian, nor do I think that way. I know who I married and what he loves... and thinking differently is a lie."

Tilian sighed. "I have read many a detective novel and you are right. It is a trait. But as noble and as caring as these men are they are often broken in someway. They have been injured by those they love. For some it is a passion of their work but for others... well it's a drive to get away from the pain. As for the divorce there are many aspects there. For example, one mate might not know the full drive of the person. Humans tend to marry without thinking. They marry a mate they do no know well and then when they see something they do not like they attempt to change them." He paused and took a sip of his drink. "Then there is the aspect of they know, but they want to change that person. They want to be loved so much they want the person they marry to be all about them. It is very confusing." He shrugged. "It is good that you accept the commander fully." He paused again. "You know, have you read the biography of Doctor Christine Chapel?"

Talarn's eye ridges raised again. "I have not. I can't say that I am particularly fond of biographies and ones about members of Starfleet are a little difficult right now as well, seeing as how it's a little bit of a sore topic." He tipped his head again. "Does she solve mysteries?" He didn't really read them for the mystery as much as he did for their investigative work. What fascinated him about those types of novels were the science behind them and he was often amazed at what they could discover with such arcane methods. For Talarn, the mystery part was almost always obvious way sooner than the various authors probably ever intended.

"No, but she did openly talk about her love for Ambassador Spock. He was driven by work, distant, had no interest and she talked about why she cared for him. Although they were never together, it was his drive for his work, his love of science, his dedication that she loved. She accepted his whole being." He shrugged. "You remind me of her. It is... refreshing to see."

Talarn's brow furrowed again and the light continued to blink rapidly. He didn't know what to say. He was silent for several moments, studying the man across from him. "Thank you. I might have to read that now. I admit that I don't read a lot of "true" stories. It might do me some good, someone else's perspective. Thank you again. To be honest... if you would like to block out a meal for the captain I would prefer dinner... it's always been the meal that has meant the most to us and the one we've spent the most time on. I would like to continue that as much as possible, of course." He smiled a little.

"Excellent." He smiled. "I will make use you two have dinner together." He paused. "Well I should get going. My transport for Risa leaves soon."

After a few more exchanged words Tilian was on his way for his final stop before he'd leave for the transport.

{OFF:}