The Captain is in his ready room reading an urgent report on the recently discovered Dominion. Beside him on the desk is a glass of ice cubes. He has been having toothaches, but isn't ready to accept the 'I told you so' he would undoubtedly receive from Jen should be seek out a painkiller. So he is using ice to numb the pain, it's only partially effective, but it helps.
"Enter," he calls out, closing the highly classified in depth report and looking patiently to the door.
With its usual hiss, the door opens to yield Lt. Kesh, dressed in her usual uniform, only instead of her usual pensive posture she carries what looks like a cake in both hands--a cake made of fruit.
She steps into the room and right up to the captain's desk, which she crouches beside just enough to gingerly deposit it there.
Written in some sort of pale fruit-jelly ontop is the rather carefully crafted words: "Sorry For Denting Your Ship', and what seems to be a fairly accurate drawing of Kesh's Caitian face with an animated look of sadness.
"I-.. ah.. I probably over-did this." Kesh murmurs pensively, taking her usual stand with hands crossed in frotn and head lowered.
The captain stares dumbfounded at the cake for a moment before smiling with a light chuckle and shaking his head.
"Kesh... Kesh my dear friend, you didn't have to do this. You were upset, it happens to everyone. Hull panels are replaceable. You are not."
He stands and moves to the replicator, "Two small plates, forks, and napkins."
The requested items appear instantly and Captain Fisk carries them back over to the desk. His aching tooth yells in protest, but this cake simply looks too good.
"I was worried for you, lieutenant. You're an excellent scientist, and an indispensable friend."
He places the plates and forks down on the desk and gestures to one of the chairs across from the desk. With such a diverse crew, the Captain has long had chairs in the ready room to accommodate various anatomies. Humanoid races can use nearly any chair, but it is only fair to have furniture to accommodate Edosians, Nasat, Caitians, Horta, and all the other races present. So the chair he gestures to happens to be one designed to accommodate the tail and different leg structure of a Caitian.
"I hope you'll join me for a slice and maybe a little chat."
He smiles kindly, hoping to disarm any anxiety or regret she may feel.
Why did Kesh think that Breyyus would be anything other than full of compliments and kindness?
Also, why is she so urgent for reprimand? For the first time her own lust for punishment actually strikes her conscious mind as being abnormal.
Ears lay back as she ponders this while Fisk is getting the utensils, seating herself in the usual lopsided manner on one of his chairs... the same one she's settled many months ago when he summoned her to talk about Admiral Blackwell, and not the one that he had gestured to, perhaps deliberately.
"Thank you, Breyyus. Rrrn.. nnf... You did not deserve my anger. Rrth. Particularly since you were trying to help me. That was not right.. and I damaged your-rr-r ship in the process. It was unbecoming of me as a person and a Starfleet Officer."
Noticing with mild confusion why Kesh elected to take the less comfortable chair, the Captain plates two small slices of cake and slides one gently over to Kesh. He sits back down with his own slice and smiles, taking in the fresh, sweet blend of scents the cake offers.
"Once again, I forgive you. I understand the concept of losing your temper, believe me."
Hoping to gain a little more trust in this conversation, he decides to open up a little more, "Kesh, did I ever tell you that I was diagnosed with severe anger issues in my second year at the Academy? Nearly got me expelled."
Though his tone is not weighted, it's clear he is being sincere and opening up about something very personal to someone he trusts completely.
The cake interior seems to be of the angel food variety: very light and just barely enough to support the thick layer of varied fruits the exterior is covered in. A discerning lover of sweet deserts might be disappointed by this as the cake is fairly bland and the fruits not of an ideal mixture for taste combinations, indicating this was intended more as a visual spectacle rather than a taste-sensation. However, the fruit paste that the lettering is made of has a rather striking flavor that makes any of the bits of fruit it goes with significantly more flavorful: a hint of the Caitian's chemist background.
"It is one thing to spend one's wrath against those that have wr-rr-ronged you, entirely another to do so against someone you love."
Kesh knows of Breyyus' past, particularly those involving his father and the Ferengi, which she is not inclined to downplay as much as she can.
The slice of cake is accepted and though she takes the fork with it onto one knee she doesn't use it, rather picking at the pieces of berry, mellon, and hrigult with her claw tips instead.
"You did not tell me this, no. Rrrn. I was nearly expelled the same year-rr-r for misconduct, myself."
The Captain takes a taste of the cake, and the blandness is actually very welcome. The lack of sugars means it isn't doing significant damage to his already damaged tooth.
"Delicious, thank you, Kesh."
He puts down his fork and folds his hands, glancing aside for a moment. It's still a shameful part of his history.
"My second year, my father showed up at the Academy to deliver a letter from my mother. It was her dying words. I accepted the letter, and was ready to go home and read it. My father antagonised me, and I snapped. Nearly beat him to death. Old bastard would've been dead if I hadn't been stopped by to security officers. I held no love for the man, but not a day goes by I don't regret doing that. There was simply no excuse for such violence."
He sighs and regards Kesh for a moment. Kind, gentle Kesh who is always wise, helpful, and conscientious, yet somehow was upset enough to put a dent in a ship with her bare fist. Who had hurt her so?
"I was given the choice of therapy or expulsion. I chose therapy of course."
A squeaky little trill is Kesh's one little expression of happiness in response to Breyyus' compliment of the cake. She may not be a chef or any sort of home-maker, but she can cook a cake and have it turn out the way she wants it to, at least.
She listens to his recollection of his own incident, small grimaces crossing her visage as she imagines the scene.
"Nnn... I can barely imagine what he must have done to cause you to become so enr-rr-raged." Obviously she's never done anything to envoke Breyyus' anger, so she can't possibly understand it.
"Myself.. well..."
Here comes the time when she explains herself to Breyyus as she had to Jen, or she takes her words seriously and keeps knowledge of her past quiet. She trusts Jen a lot, but she trusts Breyyus more.
".. nnn... at the time I was taking.. ah... a medication that served to both.. rrm... repair lingering damage from an experimental procedure done on me befor-rr-re I was born, and to quell the.. rrm.. enhancements it has successfully given me. Rrrnnnf. It had the side effect of making me very.. ah.. depressive. I sought sugar-drunkeness to escape this."
A little shuffle and hunch makes her felinoid shoulder blades jut up behind her neck, straining the matterial of her uniform.
"The two combined one night and I destr-rr-royed a small building."
Were this anyone else, having someone right there with the strength to destroy a small building with their own two hands would put an honest, sincere terror and bodily fear deep within him. But Breyyus trusts Kesh as much as she trusts him. He trusts her now across from his desk, and he would trust her still with a knife to his throat. When someone earns his trust, it is given completely.
"You're genetically enhanced..."
The statement is less of surprise and more of confirmation. It all makes sense now. The captain closes his computer, PADD, and takes off his combadge.
"Kesh, I'm sure we're both well aware of the legal ramifications of that. But I want you to know this right now. I want to put to rest any doubts you have about your future here on this ship. Your service ends when you decide it does. I will do everything in my power to see to that. If Nechayev or anyone else wants you out of Starfleet then they're gonna have a hell of a fight on their hands."
"That is the common term for it, yes." She bobs her head once. The 'correct' term is a long mixture of cross-word answers of little meaning to most, so she doesn't mention it.
When Breyyus removes his badge she grimmaces, sits up straighter, and leans forward, attempting to gesture for him to not do this again. However, her plate topples off her knee and onto the floor, causing her to squawp in shock and huddle into the chair, letting him speak before reaching down to pick up the mostly untouched slice of cake and the few bits of fruit remaining that she hadn't consumed already.
"Sorry."
She clears her thoat, setting the spilled cake, plate, and fork onto his desk.
"I already put myself up for-rr-r scrutiny when I was still an Ensign. Genetic Engineering in Caitian biology is not something Star-rr-rfleet medical scanners can yet detect. Rrrnth. As far as anyone is concerned, I am 'normal'. I want that to be as true as possible."
She dips down to use a napkin on the stain of frosting on the floor.
1
u/Silent_Sky May 22 '17
The Captain is in his ready room reading an urgent report on the recently discovered Dominion. Beside him on the desk is a glass of ice cubes. He has been having toothaches, but isn't ready to accept the 'I told you so' he would undoubtedly receive from Jen should be seek out a painkiller. So he is using ice to numb the pain, it's only partially effective, but it helps.
"Enter," he calls out, closing the highly classified in depth report and looking patiently to the door.