USS Leviathan
Little Known Talents
Casela, dressed in her black gi pants and black t-shirt, and a duffel bag, approached the holodeck. She keyed in the program, “Synthi-er training program 4” Once the computer trilled and announced “PROGRAM LOADED, ENTER WHEN READY,” Casela walked through. “Computer lock doors and require Sigma clearance to open.” The computer trilled again, the doors shut and locked. She moved down a ship’s corridor to a set of quarters. She stepped inside and minutes later she came back out, changed. A long black, woven with silver strands, evening gown now in place of her sparing clothes. The dress had capped sleeves and a high neck, but the bodice was cut to a heart shape and then filled with black chiffon. The slit in the dress rose from her right ankle to 2 inches above the knee. Elegant, 1 inch heeled sandals on her feet. The only jewelry is her necklace. Her hair delicately braided and wrapped like an ebony halo around her head.
She moved back down the corridor and entered a room that was a ship’s lounge. To the right was the bar, watched over by a Bajoran man and his wife. But they spent more time watching each other than the bar and its patrons. The sign above it read “Rebel’s Bar.” The area was filled with crew, all off duty. A long buffet filled with food from every species represented among the crew took up the far wall. The crew looked worn and exhausted. Some were quiet and subdued, quietly nursing their drinks, others were overly eager to mingle and find life. The last mission against the Borg had taken more than it’s toll. Then the return to the star base brought no relief when a renegade ship tried to blow into the star base and blow it up. The crew of the Dresden needed a reason to relax.
Casela had seen this log over and over again. She moved to the back of the room, a corner seat, an unobstructed view of the room, ignored by those in the room, she wasn’t part of the log. Not long after sitting a young cmdr in civilian clothes entered, looking more worn than anyone else in the room. He ordered his Romulan ale from the bartender, who, it was obvious, was a close friend. He took a seat at a table. Not a minute later the doors opened again. A Vulcan woman with red hair entered, wearing slacks and a buttoned blouse.
T’Jal arrived at the party in early 21st century Earth clothing and she had let her hair down. She walked over to the bar and ordered a refreshment and then went to talk to Jake and Garland.
Jake was sitting down, drinking a glass of Romulan Ale. He was staring at nothing, swirling his drink with his finger. He didn’t notice T’Jal’s approach until she was at the table.
He looked up and smiled at her. “You look great!!!......I mean....er.......” he trailed off, hiding his face for some reason. Jake stood up, and gestured to a seat across from him. “Please, will you join me?!?”
T’Jal nodded, “Of course.” She took a seat and wondered if something had happened before she got here. The way the XO was hiding his face made her wonder. “Is something wrong Commander?” After another second she logically deduced that he felt embarrassed by complimenting her. Odd, sometimes humans are so illogical. As if an afterthought–“Thank you commander.”
Jake struggled to get a grip. Damn women! he thought. I’ve not blushed since I was six!!! Regaining his composure, he took a sip of his drink. Then he smiled at her. “It seems like a long time since the crew had any free time, doesn’t it!” Jake said. He was attempting to make small talk- never one of his strong points. and he certainly was never any good at talking to women.
T’Jal wished the commander would relax. He was actually quite attractive. “I wish I knew. Cpt. Hunter had informed me there wasn’t a CNS on board before I came.”
“Not for a while, anyway. There used to be one, Arron Baxter. A nice chap. But you’re much prettier than him!” he joked.
T’Jal raised a brow trying not to blush herself. She almost wished at this point that her mother hadn’t done so much of her training as a child, but that it had been her father–but she only wished a little. “Well comparing men and women is like comparing apples and oranges, as my mother would say.”
Jake sat with a puzzled look on his face. He’d never heard that one before. His mother used to splurt proverbs out all over the place, but he’d never heard that one before. Jake smiled as he thought about it. “Well, that’s fine. Guess I’ll have to cut down on the apples!” Jake said, wincing at the pun.
“Seriously, T’Jal- we’ve been serving together for a month now, and I know nothing about you. Tell me a little about yourself!” Jake knew it wasn’t the nicest thing to ask someone. Some people loved talking about themselves, but others hated being put on the spot. But Jake couldn’t help himself- he was intrigued by T’Jal, and wanted to learn more about her.
“It is illogical to think that telling you about myself has any impact on my work, but to satisfy your human curiosity and my own human tendencies I will.” She paused a moment. “My parents worked in the embassy on Vulcan and that is how they met. They had me. My mother raised me because my father was usually gone on business, but he was around a lot more than one thinks. I went to University on Vulcan and then transferred to the Academy and then came into Star Fleet.” T’Jal wondered if that was what he wanted. Her human social skills had a tendency to be prohibited by her Vulcan tendencies.
Jake smiled. “I want to know about YOU, T’Jal. The real you. Not just what you did, and when. Who you are!!!” Jake sat forward, and gazed at her.
T’Jal was blushing and really didn’t care to hide it either. “Then what would you like to know, Jake?” She tried not to smile. “My deepest darkest secrets?”
“Anything and everything!” he smiled. “What do you like? What do you hate? That kind of thing! The kind of thing I won’t find on your personnel report!” Jake leaned forward; T’Jal occupied his whole view.
T’Jal was taken aback. Sure she had had her boyfriends and dates, but Jake was different. He was more abrupt, but she found it attractive. Being the psychology major she was T’Jal couldn’t help herself. A little psychological twist. “I hate Vyarius, and I like you!” She sat back with a grin waiting to see what he would say.
Jake returned the grin, studying her eyes carefully. He stared at her for what seemed a lifetime, before standing up- a boyish smile fixed on his face.
T’Jal looked back at him into his eyes, wondering about him. Wondering who he really was.
“Would you care to dance?” he asked, holding out a hand. The band had begun playing a few minutes ago, and many officers were up dancing. But Jake had been so enthralled with T’Jal he hadn’t noticed.
T’Jal stood up taking his hand. “I’d love to.” T’Jal moved into the steps easily. “Oh I should warn you. I’ve danced professionally for awhile.”
Jake’s face dropped a little. “In that case, I must warn you I’ve never danced before in my life!!!” he said, with a little grin. That wasn’t exactly true, but he certainly couldn’t say he was professional. Nor even amateur. His mind struggled between enjoying her closeness, and concentrating on the moves. The last thing he wanted to do was look stupid in front of her.
T’Jal smiled, “Relax. I’m joking. Vulcans can do that.” She grinned and laughed a bit. “Actually the extent of my dancing is from the dinners I was forced to attend with my parents at the embassy. VERY boring.” T’Jal was enjoying dancing with Jake. He was actually very good. She moved closer as the music slowed.
Jake wanted to reply with an amusing retort. Or simply to laugh at T’Jal’s joke. But whatever he was going to say was lost when T’Jal moved closer to him. Swallowing hard, Jake tried to ignore the fact that T’Jal’s body was pressed against his. He tried to shut out her smell. He tried to pretend he wasn’t enjoying her touch. And failed. T’Jal occupied his entire world at the moment. He was oblivious to everything around him. The music; The crew; The bar. All lost from his vision. All he could see was T’Jal’s deep and beautiful eyes.
Casela sat watching the pair dance for quite awhile. The crew was watching too. They seemed to move so seamlessly together. Casela knew that before this moment they had never before danced. Nor been physically closer than across a conference table. But it was obvious to everyone in the room that they had been made for each other. As always, Casela heard an officer comment, “They dance like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.” And they did. They still did. There was never a chance that Jake didn’t take to dance T’Jal around a room. T’Jal had admitted, once, that the habit had frustrated her, but she had eventually realized it was illogical to become frustrated when Jake was just going to do it anyway. Jake had admitted he did it because it never ceased to frustrate T’Jal, and make her blush. Jake adored T’Jal, and every once in a while Casela wanted what they had.
T’Jal wasn’t paying much attention to anything either. Unfortunately the music eventually stopped and they hadn’t noticed. The snickers from the young Ens. got her attention and she looked around blushing. “I think that perhaps we should make an exit before the rumors begin to fly?”
Jake flashed a smile, which quickly became an embarrassed grimace. “I think you’re right!” he said, adjusting his shirt distractedly. He looked around at the staring ensigns, scowling. One or two of them stepped back hurriedly.
“I suppose leaving together would just emphasize those rumours!” Jake said. “Maybe you should go first!”
T’Jal grinned, “Nope you aren’t getting away that easily.” She hooked her arm into his and walked out with him. She turned and winked at the gawking En.’s which made a busy murmur rise in the lounge.
Once out of the lounge she smiled, “If they are going to spread rumors, let them be true.” She laughed.
The log ended as T’Jal and Jake left. The lounge cleared of the crew. An older man appears from the program and approaches her, elegantly dressed in a tux with tails. Casela looks up with a sad smile. Jake was much older now as he stood before her. As he was when she first met him 15 years ago. He holds out a hand, “Come dance with me Casela.” She places one hand gently in his allowing him to gently tug her to her feet. Jake walks her over to the dance floor holding her right hand up in his, he places his on her waist as she places her left on his shoulder. He began to move them into a basic box step. They move through the most basic step until Jake begins to change the pattern adding small turns into the step so they move about the entire floor. “You have always loved watching that scene,” Jake tells her. After several minutes, “You look sad, Casela. What’s wrong?” Jake asks.
Casela shakes her head, “I always forget how life like this program is. It’s like you are really here.”
Jake chuckles, “That’s because F’actar wrote the program. She added just a little AI into it. It keeps you on your toes.” He tugs her hand, “I’m leading, not you. Learn to follow your partner. That was always a hard lesson for you to master.” Casela nods, it was true. “Hey, girly, look at me, your partner. You won’t charm anyone by staring off into space looking bored.” The dance becomes more complicated as Jake moves her through alterations of the basic box step. Adding turns, twirls, and spins. His head cocks to the side as he looks over her again, “Where is your necklace? That is not the Freya rune I made for you.”
She looks down to look at the new necklace but also sad for having lost the original. “I lost it on an away mission. Along the Romulan border. I guess the chain broke. This one…” she moves her hand from his shoulder to trace the runes, “someone special made it for me to replace the one I lost.” Jake’s eyes twinkle not missing the way she traces the runes. But in the end his program isn’t made to help her work through her concerns and fears. He’s programmed to keep her on her toes and keep this particular set of skills honed. When the good natured teasing doesn’t come, Casela is reminded that this isn’t real and Jake is millions of light years away and so is T’Jal and F’actar.
“Smile, Casela. At least pretend to enjoy dancing with this old man.” She does smile but it’s at best obviously fake. “Jake?”
“Hmmm?” he spins her out and as she returns the tempo increases and so do his steps; making her follow his pace, the dance changing from a waltz to a tango.
“How did T’Jal know, that this crew, that you were…hers?” Casela didn’t know how else to word the question, and it wasn’t one that the program would be able to answer.
Jake grins, looking very much like a little boy in that moment. “You’d have to ask her, Casela. For me, well look at her, how could she not be for me? But I like to think it was because I always let her be herself, I never asked her for more than who she was, not who I or anyone else expected her to be.” At her confusion at his answer his rich booming laugh emerges from the hologram. “You forget that T’Jal is a skilled psychologist and has been doing this for decades before you. She helped write the program. She knew what questions you would, eventually, ask.”
After that Casela doesn’t talk to the holographic Jake again. She focused on the dance. Though it might seem strange and out of place to others, Casela found dancing easy and natural. She flowed through the steps, taking the coordination and natural grace she applied to her fighting techniques and using it here. She danced with-this memory of-Jake for a while. Until Jake seemed to look up and past her. He spun her away from him, as if passing her off to another dance partner, and then Jake was gone, but the music continued.