New Orders, Finally

Posted on Mon Jan 30th, 2017 @ 8:11pm by Lieutenant Commander Eneas Clio & Commander Mal Xustos

Mission: Refit Rondo
Location: Utopia Planitia Fleetyards

Sorting through the myriad of 'paperwork' that Starfleet was continuing to send her despite her not exactly having a duty location or a place to work, Clio finally happened across her transfer orders to the Hera and paused to read it. While the ship's name was clearly listed, her position on the roster was not as clearly stated. Sure, she could assume Chief Intelligence Officer, but on the Katana she had also been Chief Security Officer, and not just for convenience either. They'd made it official just before the ship's untimely death. Normally she'd leave it to be figured out when she reported aboard, but she wanted to know beforehand so she could get her access codes straightened out. There were a couple of people she could think of who might possibly know.

First, she tried to look up Enalia Telvan on the tiny computer console in her temporary cabin, but Clio couldn't even find the woman listed as a visitor to the fleetyard. Thinking she must have spelled the name wrong, she tried again but still nothing. It was downright odd, but then again Telvan had an intelligence background. She might have 'cloaked' her presence to avoid being found.

Well that left one other person, which was the Hera's new executive officer. Not entirely sure how to spell his name, Clio slowly entered Commander Mal into the computer and found that the name popped up immediately, with a picture to confirm she'd found the right person. Noting the location of the cabin, she grabbed the PaDD containing her transfer orders and slipped out into the corridor. Mal's cabin was only a few sections away from hers, and she found it easily, though she hesitated before ringing the chime. Perhaps he wouldn't want to be disturbed in his home, temporary as it may be. But then it dawned on her that Mal, like herself, did not have an office in which to meet. Though that didn't make the prospect any less awkward, she gingerly tapped the 'call' button to ring the door bell. Now there was no turning back.

Mal was relaxing on his couch, clad only in a loincloth, plucking away on his lyre.

"Computer," he said. "Who is at the door?"

"Lieutenant Commander Eneas Clio."

"Thank you," Mal replied. He rose and went to the door to greet his guest. "Greetings, Commander Eneas! Welcome to my humble quarters! Won't you come in?"

Clio wasn't quite sure how to interpret such an exuberant greeting and for a moment she seemed to shy away slightly. She wasn't especially familiar with the Pomtali and had no way of knowing if Mal's exuberance was genuine or not, and his relative lack of clothing was unusual. But he seemed friendly enough... and knew how her name was structured. That meant a lot more than people thought sometimes. "Um... yes. If I'm not intruding."

"Not at all," Mal replied, stepping aside and gesturing for Clio to precede him into his quarters. He led her to the sitting room and offered her a seat on the couch.

"May I get you something to drink or eat?" Mal asked.

Her history in Starfleet thus far still made Clio ever so slightly wary as she followed Mal to the sitting area and took the offered seat on the couch. "Hot tea, masala chai if the replicator has the recipe. Thank you."

"My pleasure, Commander!" Mal replied. He ordered the tea from the replicator and brought it to Clio. "Careful, it's hot!"

The mug was ever so slightly hotter than she usually ordered it, but Clio wrapped her hands around it and appreciated its warmth anyway. Every Starfleet installation she'd been to was quite cool for her liking, and Utopia Planitia was no exception. She waited a moment before trying a sip, finding the tea to be too hot for drinking just yet. Balancing the mug against her leg with one hand, she used the other to pick up the PaDD she'd set on the couch when she'd sat down. "I was hoping you could help me with this."

Mal took a seat on the couch as well and read the PaDD Clio handed him.

"Hmm..." he said. "This is rather confusing. Let me clear this up. The captain and I discussed whether you should hold down both Intelligence and Sec/Tac. We decided that both positions were full-time jobs and that we wanted department heads who could devote all of their duty time to their specific department. We'd like you to be our Chief Intelligence Officer, however we have not selected a CSTO. If you are willing, I'd like you to devote some of your time to overseeing the Sec/Tac department for now, just until a Chief Sec/Tac is assigned. There's a Chief Master-At-Arms named...Jolan Idrax. He can oversee day to day operations, but I'd like an officer for him to come to should he have any issues, especially with officers trying to pull rank on him. Can you do this for me?"

Clio nodded in agreement, carefully sipping her tea. "I prefer Intelligence anyway. It's what I was trained in at the academy and what I've spent my life doing. I was never formally cross-trained in Security... it was just the specific types of training I've done that allowed me to have any efficiency at it." To be fair, most of her proficiency as the Katana's Chief of Security was scaring people into behaving. It was quite a nice skill to have. "I'll help Jolan until we get someone to run the Security department. That's not a problem. But after the Katana, I certainly appreciate having official control of only one department."

"Excellent," Mal said. He picked up his lyre and began to play a soft, relaxing tune. He was playing softly enough that it was really just background and mood music. "And now that we have that out of the way, tell me about yourself, if you don't mind that is. We'll be working together and I'd like to get to know you better. Beyond just reading your file, that is. Who is Eneas Clio?"

"A scoundrel, spy, and murderer who occasionally dabbles in mind reading." It wasn't much of an answer and certainly not one that most Starfleet officers would give, but Clio saw no point in hiding it. Espionage and murder made up most of her dossier with Starfleet. "Also a war veteran and an aspiring painter. Nia told me once I was a mystery wrapped in an enigma."

Mal chuckled.

"Every now and then someone accuses me of being a scoundrel," he said. "Usually they're just buying into the human mythology about satyrs. They think we make a point of taking advantage of our nymphs. In reality, most nymphs on my planet are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves. We pursue them, yes, but they pursue us as well. From the assumption that I take advantage of the nymphs on my planet flows the assumption that I must therefore take advantage of other Federation females. Not true, as a rule. We are sentient beings like other sentient beings. There are those of us who are decent, honest, caring people and those that are not. That goes for both the satyrs and nymphs of my world."

The tune Mal was plucking became a bit more somber.

"I've taken lives in the course of my duties," he said. "Not my favorite part of my job but there are times it must be done. I also fought in the war."

The music became a bit happier.

"I'd make a terrible spy, though!" Mal said. "Can't you just see me now trying to sneak into the headquarters of the Imperial Romulan Navy, trying to disguise myself as a Romulan officer? 'Centurion! Why do you have hooves and horns' 'Why whatever do you mean? What hooves? What horns?' And that's why I didn't even bother to apply for intelligence. I could have been an analyst, I suppose, but I was young...well...younger. I'm actually quite young for a Pomtoli. As I was saying, I was younger then, and inexperienced and wanted action, action I wouldn't experience in a room full of analysts. So, when do I get to see one or more of your paintings?"

Clio snickered at the thought of a Pomtoli trying to go undercover, clopping around on their hooves making a racket. "When people call me a scoundrel, they're generally right. Most of the things I've done in my career are the bad, shadowy things that Starfleet dearly wants kept secret... and I'm damn good at it. As for the paintings..." She sighed, shaking her head. "That'll have to wait until I've painted some more. I lost over a dozen when the Katana was lost."

"I'm sorry," Mal said. "I forgot your last command went 'BOOM'. Besides the paintings, did you lose anyone? I know that some were lost, and that of course hurts, but I mean did you lose anyone you were close to?"

The music Mal was making on his lyre changed. It was now more gentle and relaxing, with just a hint of sadness. Music to both soothe and give permission to feel whatever she was feeling.

That wasn't a topic Clio was quite ready to discuss, and she sighed a bit as she stared into her teacup. "Arivek was the first friend I had on that ship. And sure, he was a hologram, but he was the first person on that crew who thought I was worth caring about. And I'll lose Nia eventually. The Hera has a commanding officer, so she'll have to go somewhere else."

"By Arivek you mean Commander Arivek Zhuri?" Mal said. "I'm sorry for your loss. So he's gone then? No chance of recovering his program?"

"Arivek Zhuri, yes. And believe me, we tried to recover him. We were able to save Akira, but Arivek... just never reappeared." While Clio was obviously quite heartbroken at the loss of her friend, she couldn't imagine how Akira might feel.

Mal closed his eyes a moment and then opened them.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," he said. Mal didn't try to make anything better other than by being there for Clio. Nothing he said would bring back Clio's close friend. After a moment of just sitting there with her and playing music for her, Mal spoke again.

"You said you saved...Akira?" he said. "I wasn't aware there was another sentient holobeing on the Katana. Who is she?"

"Arivek's daughter, though I'm not entirely certain how she was... conceived." Clio had heard the story a few times, but she'd never been able to make sense of it.

Mal chuckled.

"No," he said. "I don't suppose he procreated with someone in the way we mammals do. So what's going to happen to this new holobeing now?"

"I'm not sure. Guess it's up to her and Starfleet. I trained her on the basics, but they might want her to go to the academy. They might send her to the Hera. Hell, they might want to study her, awful as that sounds." Even to Clio, the idea of studying someone just because they were different was a little appalling.

"Ugh," Mal said. "Save me from the curiosity of scientists. I was the first Pomtoli, satyr or nymph, at Starfleet Academy. There were scientific and medical exchanges, exchanges of all kinds, really, when Pomtol was seeking entrance into the Federation, and more after. But I was the first Pomtoli most cadets and seen, and the first many of the medical officers had seen. I got poked and prodded a bit."

Mal grinned shamelessly.

"Of course, if a cute female cadet wanted to know about Pomtoli satyr anatomy," he said. "I would often willingly allow her to 'experiment' but even that could get annoying after a while."

"I'm familiar with that sort of poking and prodding. My people never joined the Federation... they're actually counted among our enemies. I'm a bit of a special case." Her past wasn't something that Clio generally discussed, but she seemed to have found a kindred spirit in Mal. "The bioship I was born on exploded when I was little. Some starship found me in an escape pod and assumed I'd been orphaned, so I grew up on Earth if you can believe that."

"That's less of an uncommon story than you might think," he said. "How old were you when this happened?"

"Three, I think. Certainly too young to remember all the details at least." Contemplating that bit of her life a bit, Clio drank some of her tea. "Having been raised on Earth, I didn't have to jump through any hoops to join Starfleet."

"I see," Mal said. "Did you like growing up on Earth?"

"I honestly don't have anything to compare it to, so I guess so? I mean, I usually found the weather a bit cool unless it was summer, but I love my family. They didn't have to take me in like they did." Clio hadn't really thought about whether she'd liked living on Earth or not, but she supposed it was nice enough. It was a peaceful planet where most people didn't mind terribly if you looked a little different.

"They sound like good people," Mal said. "You may have had an easier time fitting in than I did, at least at first. You don't look like a mythical creature from Earth's past, and they're aren't statues and paintings circulating depicting members of your race with their substantial 'boy parts' sticking out. It was a bit of mixed blessing. Oh, who am I kidding? It was a lot of fun at times! Anyway, I found my way after a little while. The climate was similar and by the time I was born, children were already being taught Federation Standard in school. I did meet a Classics professor who interest in me as a figure from Ancient Greece was that I could actually speak Ancient Greek like a native speaker. We talked in that language together and I fixed his pronunciation. It was fun, a break from everyday academy life."

Clio couldn't help snorting with laughter just at the thought of the Greek satyr statues and their ample 'parts' alongside the tiny nymph statues. "Okay, maybe not. But the Pomtoli aren't the only ones who seemingly feature in Greek mythology and culture. Most people at the academy thought my name was Greek... and it is. In both Cervan and Greek it translates to 'glory', and it was a little weird when I found that out."

"That is a strange coincidence," Mal said. He stopped playing his lyre. "Well, I have a meeting to go to, which means I'll have to put on a uniform. Somehow I don't think the yardbirds are going to take me seriously wearing only a loincloth. This has been a very pleasant way to pass the time. We'll have to get together again sometime. Is there anything else I can help you with before we part?"

"No, I don't think there is. If I think of something I know where to find you at least." Finishing her tea, Clio stood up from the couch. "I'd be interested in learning more about the Pomtoli when you have time. I know there are theories that some of my ancestors may have been the Greek gods, but I haven't heard any theories about the Pomtoli yet."

"I look forward to discussing our history with you and comparing it to ours," Mal said as he walked Clio to the door. "Good day, Commander. I look forward to seeing you again soon."

"Good day, Commander. I'll see you on board... or perhaps before then if this refit really does take as long as they say it will." With that as her good-bye, Clio graciously left Mal's cabin to return to her own.