Posted by Commander William B. Grey (Chief Science Officer / 2nd Officer) in Happy First Contact Day (happy Birthday, Kastarak!) - Party in the Mess Hall

Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Sara Lovejoy (Engineer) in Happy First Contact Day (happy Birthday, Kastarak!) - Party in the Mess Hall

Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Pawl Batario (Chief Engineer) in Happy First Contact Day (happy Birthday, Kastarak!) - Party in the Mess Hall
Posted by… suppressed (15) by the Post Ghost! 👻
The mess hall was louder than he preferred.

Kastarak stood at the edge, near the entrance, watching the crew intermingle like molecules in fluid motion – chaotic, but not without pattern. Someone had turned the lights down slightly, probably to mimic the softer evening glow of Earth’s western hemisphere. Simulated Montana dusk. Appropriate. Sentimental, even, someone might call it. Kastarak did not understand it, but accepted it.

He clasped his hands behind his back, feeling the fine edge of the formal robe against his wrist. He had selected it with care. Not his ceremonial robes – those were too austere, too bound to grief – but still formal enough to mark the day. And a rare occasion of him forgoing his uniform.

First Contact Day.

The words echoed in his mind as if spoken by another. He had known he would be asked to speak – the captain had gently insisted the day before. As the most senior Vulcan aboard the Chernov, it was expected. His short speech had been prepared with precision, revised four times, trimmed for clarity. There would be no improvisation.

Chris came in wearing his Dress Whites with all of his medals on. Some other Captain on Earth told Chris that he looked liked an old Mexican General with all of them metals. Chris of course did not get the reference until he looked it up one day and laughed. He stepped up next to Commander Kastarak whom was wearing one of his Vulcan robes and smiled. He looked very regal.

He stepped forward when the murmur quieted. Crew members straightened in their seats, or standing, eyes expectant. He took his place on the small platform near the food dispensers. It was not a stage, but it served.

“Today marks the two hundred and eleventh anniversary of First Contact between Humans and Vulcans, according to the reckoning of time of humans. This was a moment often described as the beginning of a new era—not only for Earth, but for countless worlds that would later form the United Federation of Planets, and Starfleet, which we serve.

“First Contact began not with conquest or demand, but with observation, curiosity, and a willingness to listen. One species reached for the stars, and another chose to answer – not out of necessity, but because logic dictated that cooperation would yield greater understanding than isolation.

“There were challenges. There was hesitation on both sides. Misunderstandings, cultural dissonance, even hostility. Yet despite this, something enduring emerged: a commitment to dialogue, to exploration, to mutual growth.

“We remember this day not to indulge in sentiment, but to remind ourselves of what is possible when fear does not prevail. When difference is not viewed as threat, but as opportunity. First Contact is not a singular event in the past – it is a principle we can choose to embody in the present. Every encounter, every act of empathy, every bridge built across the unknown continues the legacy of that moment in Montana.

“As the only Vulcan assigned to this vessel in a senior capacity, I am aware that this day carries symbolic weight. I do not speak for all of my people. I cannot. But I can say that First Contact remains a cornerstone of our shared history. It was not perfect. It was not easy. But it endures.

“Let us commemorate not only what happened, but what it meant – and what it still can mean.” He had in his earlier drafts accidentally finished this sentence with to us that remain – a pointed reminder of the calamity that befell the Vulcans.

A pause. He looked over them – not as a commander assessing a crew, but as something else. A witness, perhaps.

He inclined his head, then stepped away.

He did not remain at the centre. He found his usual seat near the viewport and took it without comment. Someone had left a bowl of plomeek soup there for him. Thoughtful. Unnecessary. He appreciated it.

Chris stood up when Kastarak was done and applauded with everyone else but did not move to take up the center area after the Commander left. Kastarak and him talked and to have a Vulcan here in high command would set the tone of this speech far better than Chris ever could.

Chris did hold up a hand for silence. “One quick note. Lieutenant Junior Grades Pawl Batario and Quinton Dawson please stand by after you’ve finished your meals. The others I hope you stay as well. There is more celebrations to come.” With that he went to stand in line to get his food.

From his peripheral vision, he caught several glances toward him—warm, cheerful. Birthday glances. He knew that many of them had checked the crew roster. Humans had an obsessive tendency to commemorate birthdays, even when told not to.

“Happy birthday, Kastarak!” he heard a voice cry out. “Happy birthday, commander!” another one sounded.

It was a strange thing, to be born on this day, in the reckoning of humans. The irony was sharp enough to be Vulcan in origin.

He sipped his soup.

Once, long ago, his mother had told him the story of First Contact while brushing his hair, her fingers deft and warm. He remembered the smell of the garden outside their home in K’taal—dust and fire lilies. She had spoken of Zefram Cochrane with gentle distance and of Ambassador Soval with reverence. He had been seven.

Now the home was gone. His mother, gone. His father, brothers, sister, cousins, family, gone. Most of his world, gone – ripped apart by a singular madness, a Romulan miner and a star collapsing, and the slow, slow horror of genocide that followed. There were Vulcans, yes, scattered across colonies and stations and embassies, rebuilding with the unyielding force of tradition. But few. So few. The events of the Narada could easily have become a last contact day.

He felt the weight of it often, but never more than today. First Contact Day. The day when Vulcans reached out. And the day of his birth. The day his mother gave birth to him…

And now it was he who stood on this ship, in this century, offering words to humans and other species on the ship – offering a reminder of what once was, and what might still be.

He sipped the soup again, steam curling around his face like memory. It was well-prepared. Not his mother’s, but acceptable. It made him think of T’Aria and the soups he would drink with her when she was first officer on board. He remained acutely aware of her absence. It was an absence that, at this moment, and like many other moments he remembered her, brought upset to his gut, sometimes, even pain. This time, it was pain.

Outside the viewport, stars moved like a silent current. Endless. Indifferent.

Still, he sat with them. Still, he spoke.

Still, he remembered.

And he had become a year older. Now twenty-nine.

Another year without his family.

Another year without the planet which he once called home.

Kastarak, Lt Cdr
First Officer and Navigations Officer

Chris felt a pang of guilt and remorse for his friend Kastarak. He had been through a lot over the years and Chris knew his First Officer well enough that there was sadness, anger and frustration behind those placid face right now. Kastarak had the will power of a Jedi Master. Once he got his food he’d go over and see how his friend was doing.

Pawl coming in after all of the birthday wishes were given. Pawl walked into the room quietly not to bother anyone. As he moved to the table in the far corner out of the way and took a seat with a low sigh. Pawl was lost in though to see what he wanted to eat before getting in line at the food synthesizer. He decided on an old earth delicacy a foot long hot dog with chili cheese and onions and what they call them onion rings. with a bottle of ketchup. And a large classic coke classic. As he stood again and grabbed the proper cards for his selections. Pawl grabbed some napkins and silverware just in case he needed them. As he placed the cards into the food synthesizers for his selections to get prepared. As the machine hummed to life processing the order. He felt a presence in the room for a moment as he looked around for the source of it. the processor finished with a ding of a bell. and the doors slid open for him to retrieve his tray of food. As he forgot the strange feeling and moved back to his table alone.

[[Lt_Jg ]] [[Pawl Batario]]
[[Chief_Engineer]] [[Uss_Chernov]]

When seeing Pawl enter and say nothing, not acknoledging Kastarak, it causes in Kastarak a sharp sensation in Kastarak’s gut. Was it something he had eaten? Why did his body suddenly feel heavier?

Perhaps it was the memories of his home planet being lost… but then why did seeing Pawl provoke that sensation?

Kastarak, Lt Cdr
First Officer and Navigations Officer

Pawl was about to eat when a wave of discomfort came at him hard. as he looked around he notices Kasarak. Pawl sent a polite wave towards him. making it known he saw him. Pawl thought to him. ~ care to join me!~ not to try to press further into his mind. as he waited for a reply. He knew of first contact day a d the unpleasantness of losing one of the founding worlds of the federation hit a lot of people hard. Pawl was now lost in thought and could not emagine the major loss of a world to him was hard to say the least.

[[Lt_Jg ]] [[Pawl Batario]]
[[Chief_Engineer]] [[Uss_Chernov]]

Kastarak set down his spoon, the steam from the plomeek soup still curling up like incense in a meditation chamber. He had not touched the cobbler beside it. Sweet things rarely appealed to him, especially now.

The noise of the mess hall continued around him like a current he sat beneath – muffled, distant. He had learned to sit with the noise. To let it pass over him, like wind over stone.

Then – a presence.

Faint. Familiar.

Not a voice, not in the conventional sense. Just a gentle nudge across the edges of thought. Pawl. Pawl had sent him something – telepathic, but so restrained it was barely more than a ripple: care to join me.

He turned his head fractionally, just enough to acknowledge Pawl across the room. Their eyes met. Kastarak inclined his head by three degrees – subtle, but deliberate.

He stood.

Bringing his plomeek soup, he moved across the room with measured steps, avoiding the more congested areas.

After Chris got his usual meatloaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, he smiled and thought how predictable he’d become to even the cooks. Shaking his head he was almost to Kastarak when he noticed Pawl with him. Seeing that he knew he couldn’t interrupt. They needed to talk and with them both being close to each other it would be good for them both.

Looking around and finding a seat on the other side to not interfere with their conversation Chris looked back and saw what Pawl ordered. Man! That’s a great idea! I haven’t had a proper chili cheese dog in years! And he got Onion rings to boot! Chris turned and was heading back to the counter to whole heartedly copy Pawl’s order when he remembered he was wearing his Dress Whites, then turned back and went to sit down. Next time! He mutered to himself.

Captain Chris_Taggart
Captain USS_Chernov

Dawson stood behind in his dress whites, unusually somber compared to his usual attitude. He had been eating some simple fish and chips, picking at them mostly, when the captain had mentioned him staying back. He raised an eyebrow but otherwise continued with his food. He hadn’t known Kastarak shared his birthday with first contact day. He figured he should probably go and say something to him. Or would Kastarak have preferred him not to? Sometimes Vulcans were tricky to nail down when it came to social niceties. Especially when Dawson was going through his own troubles at the moment. He figured he might as well atleast say something and if he got the sense Kas would prefer to be left alone, so be it.
He had risen with intention.

The movement toward Pawl’s table had been deliberate – a response to quiet grace. The kind of gesture that did not require spectacle, only presence. But Kastarak had taken no more than three steps before a voice intercepted him.

Dawson made his way over towards Kas and stopped him, “Hey, Kas.” Dawson said throwing on a more jovial smile,

Kas. The name struck the air like a pebble in still water—small, familiar, and just slightly jarring. Only one person in the crew would call him that. Dawson. And Dawson’s return was still haunting, strange, unaccounted for, something that caused Kastarak to still not quite believe it, as the logic did not add up.

Kastarak stopped, giving Dawson the space to interact.

“Happy Birthday. I don’t know how you usually celebrate, but I know I always try to make the most of mine. How have things been?”

Lt. Q Dawson

“Thank you, Mr Dawson,” he said, in his usual emotionless way. “It is kind of you to remember the occasion and convey this. As for your question, I am unable to answer it with the brevity this interruption necessitates.”

A beat passed. Kastarak needed to explain.

“I was on my way to join Lieutenant Batario,” he said, eyes briefly flicking toward Pawl’s corner. “Would you like to join us? If so, we can talk more there – the three of us.”

Kastarak, Lt Cdr
First Officer and Navigations Officer

Dawson smiled. He’d come to appreciate the Vulcan directness and reluctance for small talk. At the invitation, Dawson looked back towards Pawl’s table and absently rubbed at his chin, which had begun to develop blonde stubble. His hair was more unkempt than usual as well. Dawson had tried to run a brush and comb through it, but too much neglect refused to be smoothed over by a few minutes of brushing. His eyes held a pink hue to them as well, from too many sleepless nights looking over computer readouts from his disappearance. He spent most of his off duty hours pouring over readouts and diagnostics, searching for any kind of anomaly as a clue to how he could have vanished.
“Certainly,” Dawson said, “Unless you had something you wanted to speak to Pawl about? I wouldn’t want to interrupt.”

-Lt. Q Dawson

Kastarak nodded, sensing the ambivalence in Dawson. He wanted to set him at ease.

“Private conversations are for private spaces. You are welcome to join.”

As heard his own voice, he reflected on that it sounded rather direct, but he also knew Dawson was keenly aware of Kastarak being Vulcan. He did not need to use communicative silk gloves with Dawson. Not now, at any case.

Pawl noticed the conversation that Kasarak and Dawson were having and a bit of indecisiveness that seemed to be coming from their direction. Pawl stood up and tried to usser them both over to him. “Come??” Pawl spoke, trying to cut the indisision of the situation. showing he was indeed welcome to join the table. “The table won’t bite, I promise.” trying to show so odd humor with dawson and kasarak. even though he knew kasarak might not understand the humor concept. Other than the obvious dictionary definition of the term of humor.

[[Lt_Jg ]] [[Pawl Batario]]
[[Chief_Engineer]] [[Uss_Chernov]]

Kastarak recognized the humour but knew not how to answer it, to which he simply ignored it.

“Hello, Mr Batario,” said Kastarak, more formal than his usual interactions with his (former?) lover. “I brought Mr Dawson. Have the two of you met since his return?”

Sara came in later due to her finishing up getting her quarters set up more. She noticed all the other officers are in the room but wasn’t sure what to do. She went head went in and grabbed a drink and stood by herself.

Lieutenant Junior Grade Sara Lovejoy
Engineer/Helmswoman
U.S.S. Chernov

Kastarak noticed Sara standing on her own. Given his interactions with her before, leading her departure from the ship on medical leave, he saw it best not to invite her over to Pawl. Pawl and Sara also had history, after all…

Kastarak, Lt Cdr
First Officer and Navigations Officer

Pawl took a moment. “No, I haven’t. Welcome home, Mr. Dawson.” Pawl said politely. Still note a bit of hesitation. “Please have a seat and relax.” Pawl said with a warm and kind smile. He also noticed Sara enter the room. He was not sure what to say or do since her return to the ship. But he noticed Kasarak looking at her. “Sara?! Come join us.” trying to be open and sincere with her and the others. “Have you eaten yet, Mr Dawson?” Pawl wondered.

[[Lt_Jg ]] [[Pawl Batario]]
[[Chief_Engineer]] [[Uss_Chernov]]

She looked up from what she was looking at surprised that Pawl wanted her over. After all they did have a past but she did feel bad for what she had done before she left for medical leave but wanted to say hi to everyone but not sure how. She then looked at him and nodded as she walked over quietly allowing her to not use her thing that she did before. “Hello.” She said just looking outside the window looking at the stars.

Will had been there during the Captain’s speech at the start but had been called away and was returning from the lab a little worse for wear. His Dress Whites were still impeccable as was the small salad dressing on his chest, but his hair was not the usual perfectly combed; it seemed whatever he’d been called for had resulted in a minor electrical disturbance, his hair seemed frizzy, combed back but with more volume than usual. He absently gathered some vegetables on a plate and a meat he didn’t recognise, he grabbed a large glass of water and joined the rest of the senior staff with a distracted nod and started eating, not even reacting as he took a bite out of a full chilli.

CSO, 2O

OOC: I’m going to post another thread similar to this one but don’t want to ruin your talks and character development. Just respond to the other one but keep talking to each other here. The other thread is taking place right after you talk.

Captain Chris_Taggart
Captain USS_Chernov

Lieutenant Junior Grade Sara Lovejoy
Engineer/Helmswoman
U.S.S. Chernov

Pawl offered everyone a seat at the table. “Please, Miss Lovejoy, join us. I am glad you’re back with us on the Chernov. I hope you’re settling in ok?” Pawl asked. By the way happy first contact day to all.” Pawl said with a smile.

[[Lt_Jg ]] [[Pawl Batario]]
[[Chief_Engineer]] [[Uss_Chernov]]

“I am resettling in okay. Not the same like it was. But I’ll manage. Honestly, glad to be back. Also happy first contact day to you as well.” She said semi smiling.

Lieutenant Junior Grade Sara Lovejoy
Engineer/Helmswoman
U.S.S. Chernov

Will looked up from his meal, looking between Batario, Lovejoy, and Kastarak; and tried his best to suppress a groan and the accompanying eye roll that he felt deep in his core. He’d tried his hand at a romantic relationship during the Academy and found it to be a tiring exercise and it was clear with the constant romantic drama on the Chernov that he was correct to stay far away from it. “Quite so, Many happy returns” He said simply.

CSO, 2O

“I suppose, Commander. It’s just a sudden return for me, so I’m not used to being back all of a sudden.” She said as she said. “So I’m in the little mixed feelings.” She added.

Lieutenant Junior Grade Sara Lovejoy
Engineer/Helmswoman
U.S.S. Chernov