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Reception Part 1

Posted on 01 Oct 2015 @ 1:32am by Captain Harvey Geisler & Commodore Juliana Terlexa & Commander C. Kos & Lieutenant Commander Terry Walsh & Lieutenant Commander Roget del Rosario & Lieutenant Commander Jayla Kij & Lieutenant Commander Temerant Bast & Lieutenant JG Ken Rogers & Lieutenant JG Perei

Mission: Rude Awakening
Location: Various
Timeline: MD 5 || 2000 hours

===[USS Black Hawk, Captain's Quarters]===

If there was one thing Harvey rarely used since losing his wife, it was the mirror. At most, it was to check to be sure his hair hadn't matted after a shower or time in bed. Yet, here he stood, unmoving, staring at his reflection. It wasn't until 0900 hours this morning when receiving the unexpected invitation that he realized that his wardrobe required updating. The last time he'd worn a dress uniform was when he stood at an altar to recite his vows as he and Alison were wed.

He could still see that uniform hanging in his closet thanks to the reflection in the mirror. It had actually come to a shock to him upon his return to Starbase 211 that it had not only survived the Dominion occupation, but also that it had been preserved over the years by Starfleet. Anyone with sense could have stuck it into a replicator or even delivered to the quartermaster for reissue.

Alas, the blue dress uniform with the silver pips of at lieutenant was outdated now in more ways than style. A Captain Harvey was and a Captain's uniform was required for tonight. As he stared into the mirror at the stark white uniform with red trim, Harvey could not help but think of the past and the soul that should have been on his arm after all of these years. He at least owed his crew, especially Doctor Kij and Commander Kos, for helping him to break out of his stupor over the last few months. At the core, he was still very much Harvey Geisler, a soul not seeking companionship, no matter how nice it was. Perhaps in time, companionship would again be a pleasant idea.

Harvey tugged at the uniform jacket, feeling the combadge in his hand that he'd yet to place on his breast. It took him a moment more not to achieve satisfaction with his look, but to accept that this was Harvey Geisler now. A Captain with nearly 500 men and women to command. And if he was to survive, much less thrive, as this person, it was time to make a change or two.

But not tonight.

Like the rest of his senior staff, and a few select officers and crew, Harvey had been invited to a reception at Captain Terlexa's request. He knew little of the woman's stature or position, just that she had inherited Deep Space 11 from Admiral Adislo. He assumed this reception was more for the morale of those stationed at Deep Space 11 than for his own crew, and as such, he would do his best to perform his role. It certainly would not be the first time something like this had happened.

Harvey sighed, doubting it would be the last.

===[USS Black Hawk, Executive Officer's Quarters]===

C. Mackenzie Kos was not girly. Even as a little girl, she'd eschewed pink, skirts and dresses, ruffles and frills, and dolls. Blue and green, pants, and technical journals were more her thing. Not much had changed as she'd grown up, with one exception. Ashe she'd matured, she found that she liked to dress up for formal functions.

Unfortunately, the reception she was readying herself for at the moment required her to be in dress uniform. And she hated the dress whites. The blue-gray center portion of the otherwise pure white uniform jacket was not the splash of color she would have preferred. This evening, she was, for only the second time, wearing the optional black skirt. She wanted to show Terry, and Harvey, her more feminine side, and skirts tended to do that. Her budding relationship with Terry had given her the confidence boost necessary to make the decision. Although she wasn't a huge fan of the skirt, she loved the knee-high boots.

===[DS11, The Compound, Reception Hall]===

With all of the strife the planet had seen, Harvey was taken by surprise to materialize just outside of the reception hall. He didn't expect to be allowed to transport so close.

"This way, sir," instructed a voice belonging to a young Bolian crewman, appearing beside Harvey to direct him to the Reception Hall. "Captain Terlexa is waiting for you."

He simply nodded to the crewman and followed her inside. So it begins.

Lieutenant J.G. Kenneth Rogers tugged at the tight collar around his neck as he approached the reception hall. "Don't know why we have to go through all this.." He thought to himself. "I don't know what hurts worse, this collar or these dress shoes." He looked over his uniform. "Hope I don't spill anything on it - these dress whites are expensive." Nearing the hall's entrance, he adjusted his shoulders and looked straight ahead as he entered.

Terry for one didn’t mind the dress whites. As a matter of fact, he’d never met an ole fighter pilot yet that didn’t like them. But this set was different. It was this formal uniform that he had worn to his buddy, Mark Shelby’s memorial service. It was this formal uniform that he had worn to his dad’s funeral service and the following wake. It was this uniform that held memories of mourning. But Terry determined not to let those be the only memories. This was a reception. Every glass he raised, every toast that was made would be to the lives they both lived.

Having finally reached the entrance, Lieutenant Walsh walked in. The room was huge.

Perei dressed with care, as always, her slacks creased sharply and her tunic hugged her appropriately. Unlike many other who seemed to find the white uniform a horrible inconvenience Perei appreciated hers. She had dressed her dark hair up in a neat tight bun. She applied the right amount of natural makeup to accent her caramel colored eyes and a light touch of color to her lips. She smiled as she stepped out and walked down the corridor towards her destination she stepped in right behind Walsh. "Wow" was all she said with a smile.

If Jayla had to wear dress whites, she was going to do it up proper and wear the skirt instead of the pants. She had even put her hair up into a messy knot, letting a few curly strands tumble around her shoulders. After checking her appearance in the mirror, she decided that she'd knock everyone dead is she opted for the white heals, so in the spirit of not killing anyone, she opted for the ballet flats and headed to the transporter room where she was transported to just outside the reception hall. She spotted Perei and Walsh just inside the admittedly huge room and approached them. "Wow, are they inviting the whole planet?" she commented to them.

“You would think so, wouldn’t ya?” replied Terry. Then he turned around to see who he was addressing. “Oh, evening Doctor, or Commander. Which do you prefer in a setting like this?”

"Jayla, actually," she replied. "This might be formal, but I'm pretty sure we're off duty."

Noticing the group, Rogers hurried over. "Anyone guess what this is all about? The last time I recall a fest like this was before a famine, and heads rolled over it."

Terry laughed. “I like my head right where it is, Lieutenant. Even if it would roll pretty good.” He ran the palm of his hand over his bald head.

Rogers laughed at the Cmdr.'s comment. "I'd like to keep mine as well, sir." Rogers then looked over the food trays. "Looks to me like that we'll dine well tonight."

Perei eyed the Doctor's skirt "Do tell me where I can acquire one of those for our next reception."

"I found it in the ship's computer banks under 'women's dress whites' and replicated it," she answered. "I prefer skirts- they're much cooler. In fact, I think men should try them. Probably nobody would ever wear pants again if that happened."

Perei raised an brow at the doctor and replied seriously "That could be useful at times." The dark haired science officer had intended to give a compliment in the only way she knew how.

Lieutenant Temerant Bast walked into the reception hall, absently fidgeting with his dress uniform tunic. It felt somewhat strange to be back here, now that he was no longer assigned to Deep Space 11. He knew some of the staff assigned to the Compound, but he could no longer call them his crewmates.

The reception hall was nicely decorated for this reception. Large windows offered a magnificent view of the valley nearby, and the setting sun was casting a golden light through the room.

He spotted the Black Hawk crew in the hall, and walked over. This was his first time meeting most of them, and he was keen on making a good impression.

"Hello," he said. "I'm Lieutenant Bast."

"Hi!" said Jayla cheerfully, giving him a winning grin. "Doctor Kij. Call me Jayla, though, while we're off duty."

Perei nodded a greeting "Good to make your acquaintance, Lieutenant Bast. I am Perei."

Ken nodded at the Lieutenant, while his eyes keep darting between the food on the table, and the sortness of the skirts. He silently sighed and felt his stomach growl.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," replied Temerant, returning the Doctor's bright smile. "Kij... I seem to recall a Lorelei Kij back on Trill, around a hundred years ago. Any relation?"

Jayla grimaced. Lorelei had been the one who'd given her the roughest time about having been joined at such a young age. Her death had been especially prominent almost as soon as Jayla had woken up. She seemed to have taken exception with such a young girl being joined to HER symbiote. "She was one of the former hosts of the Kij symbiote," she answered finally. "She doesn't like me," she added with a grin and a wink.

Temerant smiled. The Joining was a complex process, and situations such as this were not unheard of. In fact, he could remember a few occasions himself where he'd heard the voice of a previous host in the back of his mind, disapproving of his actions.

"If I recall correctly, Lorelei was an Initiate at the same time as Lamorra, my first host," he said.

"Lamorra Bast! That's why the name sounds so familiar," said Jayla, breaking into yet another grin. (Although, could it really be called another grin if she had never stopped grinning since walking into the reception?) "As I recall, they didn't like one another much, did they?"

"Let bygones be bygones," said Temerant. "Hopefully we can start off on the right foot."

"Quite probably," said Jayla. "I imagine it might bug them if we became best friends. And, I would so enjoy annoying Lorelei. I owe her."

Temerant winked. "I think that's a wonderful idea," he conceded.

Perei listened for a moment or two and then headed away towards the food.

Mac walked in to the reception hall and saw that she was late. She had been trying to make it on time, but had trouble deciding on what to do with her hair. She'd finally settled on wrapping her shoulder-length red hair up in a stylish bun high on the back of her head. Her eyes surveyed the room and it only took her a moment to spot Harvey. He was chatting with a woman, another redhead. He's got a type, she thought. Feeling some pangs of jealousy, she turned away from the scene and, in so doing, spotted Terry. He looked, and was, strong, yet, she knew from their time together, he was also very gentle.

Terry peeled away from the group when he saw the waiters come out with drinks. He was interested in what a place like this would serve. He took one of the glasses, sipped the golden liquid, swished, and then swallowed. Ah, fruits, honey, and a touch of, smooth, and crisp.

"What is it?" he asked the waiter.

"Moët & Chandon, 2353 vintage," he replied.

"My complements to station commander for being able to get such a fine champagne out here." Terry turned to take in the rest of the room and the personnel.

"Lieutenant," she said, coming up behind Walsh.

Terry straightened for a second, and then relaxed when he recognized the voice. He turned and Mackenzie was standing there. The black skirt...the knee-high boots...yeah. It was like looking at a supermodel. Then he slightly shook his head, bringing himself back to reality. “Commander,” he said, nodding. He then lowered his voice, barely audible to anyone else due to the surrounding noises in the large room. “You’re looking exceptional tonight.”

She could feel herself blushing. "Thank you," she whispered back. She looked up at Terry's sparkling brown eyes. "I'm not ready to become a gossip," she continued, hoping her intent was clear to the strapping pilot.

Terry smiled and nodded. "I understand. Wouldn't want to put you in that position anyway." He raised the champagne glass to lips and took a drink. "I have my vices, but ruining a person and their rep is, well, dirty." He throttled back and added, "So, do you have any idea why they would throw us reception, ma'am? Starships make it back from beat-all-odds missions every day."

"I was wondering that myself, Lieutenant." It felt strange addressing Terry so formally. Especially with how...intimately they knew each other. Though their first rendezvous was just several days ago, they had managed to spend more time together since then, nearly all of it on the planet's surface. "I'm guessing that Captain Terlexa is just trying to put on a good event to help draw focus away from the whole situation with the Consortium."

“That makes sense,” said Terry. He looked around the room and saw that it was getting crowded. But it seemed to be from more waiters coming out, carrying trays of food. Chuckling, he said, “I don’t know about you, Commander, but I can always eat.” Commander, he thought. That sounds weird. But he was coming to the realization that he needed to learn to compartmentalize when not in private or on leave. Speaking of leave, he had been thoroughly enjoying it the last several days.

"I've noticed." She dropped her voice to a whisper. "We spend at least half of our time together eating. You make it hard for a girl to stay in shape."

He nodded in the general direction of the group and discreetly held up his hand. One of the waiters came over. It didn’t look like anything Terry had seen before. “I guess when you have top-of-the-line champagne; you don’t spare any expense with the food.”

She was happy to see the food. She'd been so busy getting caught up on paperwork that afternoon that she'd skipped lunch. "It does look good," she posited.

After a few moments listening to the idle chit chat Perei walked away from the group of officers from the Black Hawk and found herself near someone else that she had never met. Not surprising since she spent most of her time down in the labs of the ship.

Walking into the reception late, Roget knew that he looked awkward in his dress uniform. His short stature combined with his muscular bulk made him a hard fit for most tailors. But he welcomed the opportunity to don the dress whites. He enjoyed the formality, the elegance, the cleanliness of the pristine white attire.

He was not a fan of social situations, but had learned how to act when he found himself in one. The first he needed to do was to get a drink. Holding a drink in one's hand was a social gesture, one that tended to help relax those around you, often facilitating more intriguing, or even incriminating, conversation. He spotted a waiter a few meters away and motioned for the young man. When he arrived, he tried to explain what was in the ornate glasses. Roget had no intention of imbibing, he just wanted to hold a glass, so he didn't care what the drinks were. He motioned the waiter away, rudely. He held the glass near his nose, taking a sniff to see if he could recognize the contents. Although he didn't use alcohol presently, he had consumed it previously, to the point of having an issue with controlling his use of it. This formed a large part of his current "dry" lifestyle.

"Well, is it acceptable to drink?" Perei asked as she grabbed a glass as well. The dark haired woman drank but very little.

He turned his head to look at the source of the voice. He recognized her as Lieutenant Perei, the half Vulcan anthropologist. The point of her ears was a giveaway. "I haven't tried it," he answered.

"Well, I didn't want to look out of place so I grabbed a glass. Besides I think that they prefer the doctor to one with pointy ears." Perei stated with a smile at the stocky man as she nodded towards the rest of the group that appeared to want the doctor's undivided attention. "By the way I'm Perei."

~to be continued in Part 2~


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