The "I'm Sorry" Call

Posted on Mon Jan 4th, 2021 @ 1:58am by Lieutenant Allegra Dahl
Edited on on Thu Jan 7th, 2021 @ 4:11am

Mission: MISSION 0 - History Speaks
Location: Transport Enroute to USS Elysium
Tags: ROLL CALL
603 words - 1.2 OF Standard Post Measure

"Again," Eitan asked. He sat sprawled on an antique fainting seat and it didn't go unnoticed that the paisley print robe he was wearing matched the upholstery. Framed in a floor to ceiling window where one could see the sun setting on the Deltan homeworld, it was typically Eitan, to find the right composition in which to frame his disappointment. "This is the second time."

"Not consecutive," Allegra responded at once. By contrast, she sat at a Starfleet standard desk in the beyond boringly neutral quarters she'd been assigned on the transport vessel. She wore a soft cream pullover that fell in points over the top of her hands and loose-fitting, gray pants that didn't match anything in the room. "Remember that Risian getaway?"

"Mmmm," Eitan purred as he gestured toward someone off-screen. "I did forget. Crushing disappointment seems to have affected my memory." A glass of something, probably wine from a local vintner, came into view, carried by a hand also wearing a robe although this time, it didn't match.

"Brat," she said as she picked up a coffee mug and took a sip. This late in the evening, the blend she'd chosen was milder, smoother with a hint of chocolate. She sat cross-legged on the chair and let the bottom of the mug rest against her thigh between sips.

"Brat," he repeated, tilting his head to one side to consider the word, "another of those unfortunate Terran terms. Not very original. I thought I taught you better than that?"

Allegra nodded as she raised her mug and took another, longer sip. Eitan in a feisty mood could be fun and was definitely better than Eitan in a pout. Still, she had a pile of work to get through and insult sessions could take hours. Decisions, decisions. "You did," she said. "And the Academy had quite the job working that out of me." Her expression turned sly. "Or so they thought."

Eitan chuckled. "We'll have to test that out when I have more time," he said. "Regretfully, I'm attending an event tonight." He leaned forward to set his glass on the coffee table and Allegra, watching from light-years away, thought about how he managed to make even the simplest gesture look absolutely graceful. "Mercifully, it's a Deltan event though so it won't be boring. There is that at least."

"I do apologize though," Allegra said. "Had my bag packed when the orders came through. I was hoping we could reschedule when I get shore leave?" She watched him over the brim of her coffee cup, dark eyes that were never quiet, filled as they were with shadows and thoughts and hidden depths, and waited.

"Of course," Eitan said. "I dislike the way that Starfleet interrupts my schedule and I hold it against them. You, on the other hand, being at their mercy, I forgive entirely."

She placed her mug on her desk then placed her right hand over her heart and bowed slightly. "Thank you," she said. "I will not say something as trite as 'have a good time at the party' because ..."

"I bring the party with me," Eitan finished and smiled, the kind of a smile that lit up his face. "You know me so well." He turned his head and nodded. "Sorry, I really do have to go." He leaned forward again, an implication of intimacy, "I'm getting 'the look'."

They exchanged good-byes in Deltan, hers had reached the passable stage though not as fluent as she'd like, and the connection closed.

"Now," she said to the empty room, "who do I have to apologize to next?"