An Acquired Taste

Posted on Sat Aug 27th, 2022 @ 5:49pm by Lieutenant Kevan Dash & Ensign Ziahli Lorel

Mission: Character Development
Location: Brig
Timeline: MD-01: Post-Departure
2932 words - 5.9 OF Standard Post Measure

In a move that some, had deemed 'crazy', Zia had spent most of the recreational aspects of shore leave on board another drydocked starship ghosting their brig officer. This had been an arrangement secured by Lieutenant Zade, at the Betazoid's specific request, because whilst the beach and the pools and the cocktails were very tempting, so was being able to watch how a senior brig officer handled a multi-case incarceration. The ship in question had encountered engine issues in the process of transporting three prisoners and, no matter what anyone else thought, Zia had seen it as a perfect opportunity to learn exactly how she succeeded best; by actually doing the job.

Now, with the Athena en route to her next rendezvous, the junior officer had very few regrets about the tan-lines she was missing, nor was she in the least bit inclined to be very perturbed by missing the Stellager tournament she'd been very nearly jostled into participating in by her Departmental Chief. What she was most disappointed about, and it was really not something that anyone ought to feel let down by, was the fact that their brig was empty. Her shifts were adding to accreditation pursuits later down the line but, right now, especially brimming with fresh inspiration, just one minor indiscretion would be nice. Or at least another body in the room so she could test her current forcefield modulation against the usual tampering techniques. She stood at the main console, having made an artwork out of looking busy doing nothing, and occasionally threw a piece of popcorn at one of the cells. There was a smattering of them where they'd all bounced off the confinement forcefield onto the floor.

*crunch*

"What the-?"

The Trill security officer hadn't seen the scattered kernels on the floor as he carried the last set of re-tuned hand phasers to the nearby locker. It wasn't the most interesting task, but it got him out of other duties that he'd have rather avoided. He examined the underside of his boot then followed the trail to the source.

"What is all this?" he grumbled, initially annoyed that he'd been inconvenienced.

"Good morning to you too."

Whilst it was technically possible to fire Zia up, it was exceptionally rare to provoke actual anger from the woman. Instead, she tended to view life and all its inhabitants with a unique brand of evaluative amusement and, more than that, a genuine fondness that spilled over into affection easily. Seeing this particular soul grumpy only made her want to ruffle his hair. "That's a very thorough investigative process and you're stepping all over it."

"Science is for the blue-tops," he replied, tapping the gold on his shoulder that mirrored hers. She could've been an engineer, but seeing that she was flying solo in the brig, he didn't suspect that was the case. So probably a new transfer. "I don't recognise you. Ensign...?"

There was a benefit to watching people, particularly from a distance, particularly if you then followed it up with proper investigation and information gathering. Joining the crew right as it had taken shore leave ought to have been a great way to get to know everyone before the drudgery of official duties took over, but the timing had been too perfect and the opportunity for additional experience had limited the amount of crew the Betazoid had met to a mere handful. Certain colleagues, (those who had taken the opposite approach and used shore leave as an excuse to exclusively recreate), were familiar more by reputation than actual interaction. She'd done her research though; she always did.

A slow grin pulled Zia's lips to one side.

"If you're determined to be official, Ensign Lorel. If you want me to actually respond, then it's Zia."

"That right?" A trademark grin appeared on his face as he ignored whatever else it was he was supposed to be doing and instead perched with his arms crossed over the console between them. "Zia. Let me guess...Betazoid? New transfer. Security...probably brig detail..." He winked. "My deductive reasoning isn't bad, huh?"

Zia frowned in visible amusement, both at his posturing and utter misuse of the concept of deduction. From her side of the console, she matched the Trill's pose, settling down to a comfortable eye level to fix him with brazen, sparkling merriment. "And yet you can't identify a perfectly valid scientific process when you stomp it into the carpet. You're forgiven," she added magnanimously. "Just don't make a habit out of it."

"Don't make a habit out of it...sir," he corrected. They were, after all, still on duty and he was her superior officer. "So what other 'thorough investigative processes' are you into? Maybe you could help me with an exploration of alcoholic beverages after you get off your shift?"

A calculated zeal joined the Betazoid's sly amusement and her dark eyes narrowed, thoughtfully without insult, to consider the juxtaposition of his two statements. "All my investigations are thorough," Zia retorted with just a sliver of room left for potential double meaning. "Sir," she added with the arch of a single eyebrow. "Though this particular one sounds like it might require some additional precautions." Her lips twitched in an effort to avoid smiling. "I am free in an hour, if that works."

"An hour. Dionysus bar." He smirked back at her, enjoying himself in the moment. It was good to be back in a place where he felt more like his old self again. "I'll bring the samples, you bring the method?"

The Betazoid's head tilted once to the side in acknowledgement. It wasn't exactly atypical of Zia to launch into social invitations feet first, though there was some amusement to be found in how quickly the conversation had veered towards utter frippery instead of official workplace matters. Loneliness didn't suit her, however, and since she'd put herself on the backfoot in terms of getting to know the crew, there was lost time to be made up.

"I look forward to observing your process, Sir."

His gaze lingered just a second longer than it needed to as he deposited the phasers and made for the exit, a little swagger in his step as he went.

The doors closed just in time to rebound a piece of aimed popcorn.

---An hour later---

Dionysus was quiet. Maybe the fact that they were on-mission had a few more people than normal on active rotation. Either way, there was less chance of an interruption, which suited Kevan just fine. Thankfully, or rather, as expected, Zia was already there, looking just as cute as he'd left her - if not more cute, from the way her eyes twinkled at his arrival.

"So," he announced, approaching her table confidently. "Do I need to know anything about scientific method before we get going, or does cracking open a fresh bottle of Kesatian ale count?" he said, depositing the named beverage in front of himself.

"Well, traditionally, most investigations start with the identification of key components. If not the first consideration then at least one of the first." Her chin perched in her cupped hand, elbow dug into the table-top, Zia waited a beat before pointing out, "You do realise you didn't actually introduce yourself, right?" Out of uniform, rank took a slide to the left, though there was a palpable space where the word Sir would have slotted in nicely.

"My reputation didn't precede me then? I'll have to do something about that..." He grinned, sliding onto the seat. "Kevan Dash. And this here is bonafide Kesatian Ale. From my personal collection, too. Only brought out for special occasions."

"Oh, it does." Straightening, Zia hunched a shoulder playfully. "I think I received no fewer than three separate opinions that mentioned you specifically when I first arrived. One of them was from a nurse on the Orion back at drydock." Judging by the Betazoid's expression, Zia was as impressed by this as she was thoroughly amused. Her gaze dropped to the bottle he'd brought with him and she tilted her head to the side to read the label, eyes dancing across the lettering as her lips curled. "I take it you're an optimist then, Lieutenant."

Dark eyes made direct eye contact.

"You seem to find a lot of occasions special."

"Welcoming new officers on board is special, isn't it?" he replied, feigning innocence as he took the bottle and popped the lid. Her mention of the nurse from the Orion had him intrigued. "Some people would say opening a new bottle is special, too. The Kesatians have a whole ritual around the way they brew their ale, dating back centuries. Supposedly it's almost a sacred experience for them when the first glass is shared." He slowly poured two glasses.

"You would think," Zia observed, holding up one of the glasses to inspect the contents, "that they would not find it very easy to surrender something of such reverence to commercial distribution." Managing a suitably benign expression of her own, the Betazoid lifted her gaze to meet his again and held the ale off to one side. "Is there any particular way we're supposed to drink it then?" Her lips twitched. "For scientific accuracy, that is."

"They say it should be consumed slowly," he explained. "Savoured. Enjoyed." He grinned, his eyes twinkling. "I like to drink it straight, personally. Though I've heard some people like it mixed with a dry malt. Apparently it smoothens the texture; helps it go down."

The Betazoid's first tentative sip was immediately followed by an expression somewhere between a grimace and intrigue. Whatever her reaction, it wasn't enough to stop Zia from attempting a second taste, after which she studied the contents of the glass once more. The entire premise of their sit-down was a smokescreen, and at some point they'd need to drop the charade to simply enjoy the opportunity to get to know each other, but for that moment, at least, the brunette was legitimately captivated by evaluative zeal.

"Okay, it's not as sweet as I usually prefer." The analogies and innuendo, whilst still present, seemed far less orchestrated. "But I don't immediately hate it. What's that aftertaste?"

"Kesatians don't malt with barley. They've a local equivalent, brings out a unique aftertaste. Supposedly it varies based on species..." He leaned forward. "Tell me, what does a Betazoid taste?"

The look of mock indignation did not make it past the twinkle of mischief in Zia's eyes. Even the normal ebb and flow of surface information revealed a vivacity to the Trill's personality that, whilst not matching her own perfectly, certainly complimented it. She appreciated people who didn't dress up their intentions in too many layers of subterfuge, since the ensuing psionic mess was usually uncomfortable to work around.

She leaned forward to match his stance. "Well, that depends a great deal on what kind of mood they're in." Taking another sip, Zia put down her glass then and folded her arms across in front of her. "And the company they keep. Nothing spoils a meal faster than clashing temperaments. I'd say this," she tapped a nail against the glass, "is an acquired taste worth pursuing. The initial bitterness is compelling."

"I do like pursuing..." He murmured, another flash of a grin forming. In his head she was reading as much into those statements as he was. And he liked it. "I'm glad you like it. It would have been a very poor start if you didn't," he said, lifting the glass with another slight salute before taking another sip.

Dark eyes watched him, a keen study of the nuances of his expression with enough open guile to not even attempt to hide that she was scrutinising him. Eventually, as the Trill lowered his glass, Zia's expression melted into something a little less orchestrated for the moment, which permitted genuine warmth when she finally laughed.

"Not bad, Lieutenant. I was worried your reputation was built on bravado alone but there is a healthy ego there." Zia grinned, though again, it was a far more natural expression than her previous resemblance to a cat playing with its food. Like most Betazoids, Zia maintained strict protocols around telepathic prying whilst also failing to apologise for the fact that she was capable of reading an undercurrent that most couldn't. There's was plenty to glean from what other people radiated naturally, after all. "Though maybe a smidge too much concern about proving yourself." She winked at him. "You can relax, I'm enjoying myself."

The brunette scanned the room then, her gaze bouncing from group to pairings to lonesome drinkers. "So," she maintained her change in pace, "tell me about the crew." Her eyes found his again. "Specifically any current pitfalls I should be avoiding." Dramatics, hidden agendas, ongoing feuds... Zia didn't guarantee she would avoid them but it would be handy to have a head's up.

"Plenty. But since I get that you've already heard about my reputation then you'll know about the other main ones. Teyo's fun but he'll hook up with just about anything with legs. Don't forget that the Counsellor is deaf; he'll remind you at least three times a session. Mason Malone..." He cringed just a little. "Is a little bit on the possessive side. Chief Engineer Keating's a really friendly one, once you get past the neurosis. Oh - and try not to get on Lieutenant P'rel's bad side, she's got a vindictive streak a mile long..."

As a string of brief character analyses, the descriptions were fairly damning. Some may have found the information intimidating but, in Zia's case, her only immediate reaction was intrigue. There was flippancy to the Trill's tone, of course, which she understood to carry an element of levity and the surface emotions that rode alongside each of his rollcalls gave some indication as to why he'd grouped this particular bunch together. Frustration, more than anything, held the most clarity. Filing the information away over another sip of her drink, the Betazoid then asked, "What about the command team? Zade seems flexible, but I've honestly not met any of the senior staff."

"Eh. They're all right. Captain's a closed book - big on authority. The XO seems all right; softer touch, bit less rough around the edges. But they say she's pretty new." He went back to his grin. "You have that in common."

Dark eyes narrowed playfully at him. "Which part; the being new part or are you implying that I'm a soft touch, Lieutenant?"

"I would never presume anything based on first impressions." That was a white lie; of course he would. And she probably knew that. Kevan touched her hand gently with his fingers. Her skin was warm under his fingertips. "You feel soft to the touch. That's a good sign, but I'm sure a Betazoid would know that some things are only skin-deep." He flashed another twinkle-eyed expression. "What's underneath?"

The confidence, not quite arrogance but happy to parade as such, radiating from the Trill gave Zia pause to close her eyes and press her lips together to avoid a response that trampled too much over the man's privacy. There was impetus behind his forward approach that seemed almost too intentional, as if there was a need for him to assert just how much this was part of how he operated. In a narcissist, such tendencies became immediately transparent, but Zia didn't think it was the guy's ego demanding her attention.

She opened her eyes and regarded him again, studiously.

"That's quite a loaded question." Zia's eyes dropped to their hands and she turned hers palm-up so that her fingertips brushed against his before looking up at him again. "With a response that I suspect only holds merit as an experience rather than an explanation."

"Oh I can give you an experience all right..." he breathed. She'd avoided the question, but he wasn't too concerned. It was all a little dance in the end. One he was enjoying. "Experience is underrated. Especially when it comes to Trill. We have very long memories."

A slow grin eventually dissolved into quiet laughter. "An unusual boast," Zia teased, "At least it's the first time anyone's tried to impress me with the length of their memory."

Using her free hand to swirl the contents of her glass around, the Betazoid then paused to take a drink as she considered her response. "What value would there be in me offering you a summary of myself? There's no guarantee it'll match what you'd naturally uncover for yourself. The unravelling is the entire point of social interaction. You will just have to," she challenged with a quirk of her eyebrow, "find out for yourself."

"I've got some of the essential measurements already," he said, making a little frame with his fingers as if to suggest he was taking actual body scans. "Everything else? I'm willing to let you show me."

"Big of you," quipped the Betazoid. Her eyes held his over another sip of ale. It was definitely an acquired taste, a little on the bold side and kind of unpredictable on the palate, but it was unique and different to anything she would have chosen for herself. Zia appreciated the unexpected. "Then I guess that will depend on what else you have in your arsenal." She held the glass aloft to indicate his drink selection. "So far, so good."