MISSION POST: Shi Maro Space Station - Day 47 - OPEN

[enterprise_npc]

The air was one of breathless anticipation as all off duty personnel - military and civilian, Aian and Marosi - lined the viewports to watch the Starfleet ship come in to dock. Murmurs raced through the watching crowd at her strange design, at the unfamiliar words emblazoned across her hull

Comments

[im_a_donnie]

Donnie was remorse when he learned they had to attend some sort of celebration in honor of them arriving. They hadn't even done anything yet. The whole thing seemed idiotic and filled with empty symbolism.

He all but plastered himself to a far off wall as soon as they arrived and idled himself with his PADD and tricorder. He blindly grabbed off a passing hors d'oeurves tray and popped whatever it was in his mouth.

This was about as much his scene as desert was a fish's favorite vacationing spot.

[transwarp_beam]

Much as he would have liked to just get down to business, he hadn't been surprised to hear about the welcome ceremony. It was all politics; the opposition wanting a chance to size them up. It was unavoidable. In the meantime, he'd just be making the most of the sticky-sweet blue drinks that were being served.

He raised his glass in acknowledgement as he spotted Donnie lurking against a wall at the edges and made his way over. "Alright?"

[im_a_donnie]

Donnie had only glanced up from his obsessive avoidance of looking at the crowd and managed to catch the flash of red and a patch of blonde hair looking at him. He looked down and wasn't as surprised as he thought he'd be when the Scottish accent was suddenly right next to him.

He nodded and shrugged in response. He glanced up at the blue drink and a longing look came on his face. He liked blue drinks. He wanted one. But not enough to cut through the loud, smelly, overheated crowd. His heartbeat quickened just thinking about it.

"I don't get it," he finally said, almost whining. "We haven't even done anything. Can't be anything but posturing," he mumbled. He didn't know everything about social etiquette but meaningless dinner parties were something he'd grown up with.

[transwarp_beam]

Scotty shrugged, setting his back against the wall and taking a long drink. "I'd guess they're wantin' a look at us. I mean, makes sense, doesn' it? What we end up decidin'll be a pretty big deal for them. One way or the other."

[im_a_donnie]

He glared at Scotty a little. "Sizing us up. Deciding whether or not they can sway our opinion one way or another. Seeing where we stand. And when I say us I mean the green guy, the commander and the captain. I'll just stay with the squishy scientists and the beep beeping."

He glanced at the engineer's drink again and subconsciously licked his lips. It looked sweet, too. He bet it was sweet. He scratched idly at the dress uniform. The texture was infuriating. He bet it was giving him a rash. "What do ya think? You think we'll do anything worth it here besides bloat the Federation's already enormous ego for helping keep such an abstract notion as intergalactic peace and tranquility while upholding the obnoxious tradition of look don't touch unless they can fly as quickly as we can and unless it makes us look good?"

[transwarp_beam]

Scotty snorted. "You an' me both mate. The sooner I can get out'a this bloody dress uniform and int' gettin' the real work done, th'better." He had to laugh at Donnie's assessment of the Federation's priorities. "Wish I knew what we're doin' here."

[im_a_donnie]

Donnie blinked and looked at the engineer with a frown. "We're on a diplomatic mission moderating trade agreements between the Marosi and Aians concerning the Aian's use of Icarium from Marosi mines and the protection from the Aians who are dependent the Icarium. Is...what I stumbled upon...accidentally. Oh! Wait! You mean us specifically?" Donnie asked pulling at his collar, separating the texture from his neck and throat

[transwarp_beam]

"Aye, you an' me us," he clarified. He gave a shrug at Donnie's revised explanation. Good points, all of them, but that didn't mean he had to like it. His eyebrows went up; "Piano, eh? I wouldn't'a pegged y'for it."

[im_a_donnie]

Donnie crossed his arms tightly around his chest and glanced at the chief. He shrugged.

"Piano, violin, harp, formal dance. I was particularly good at the waltz," Donnie added with a small smile. And, yes, while genius didn't necessarily mean that one was good at all of these activities for Donnie his intelligence was cultured by his father to the extremes. Every activity that could be used to enhance or express different levels of intelligence was shoved on the young boy.

Fortunately for Donnie he excelled at the challenges his father introduced. He even enjoyed some of them secretly.

But despite Donnie's penchant for learning quickly, his high intelligence, and his variety of skills (or perhaps because of it) Donnie's social aspects were about as intelligent as a five year old. And frequently he was surpassed by most five year olds in the correct action to take in most social situations.

"What-uh-why wouldn't you have...'pegged' me for...that?" Donnie asked with a twist of his lips.

[transwarp_beam]

"Don' know," Scotty replied, shrugging; "I just wouldn't'a guessed. Y'don't tend t'assume someone who's int'science would be int'music as well." He finished off his drink and set it on a passing tray as one of the catering staff brushed by them. "I tried t'learn guitar once, when I was about fifteen. Never really went anywhere. Got bored pretty quickly."

[im_a_donnie]

"Science...is...music," Donnie said, confused, and then scoffed. "M-math, physics, there's a-a-a formula to sound. You plan a composition, test it, hear the results. There's a commonality. You can...play the golden ratio. Fibonacci's numbers. 1,2,3,5,8,5,3,2,1! You can paint with science. You can dance with science. Well...loosely it's mathematical equation and...but...it's stimulating--" He hissed as the guy came back. He was able to grab on of the drinks nearly tripping him.

He sipped the drink while Scotty replied again. "Mmm. Dad bought me an Andorian mathematical probability game when I was ten. Same thing. You should try electric. Electromagnetic pickups make everything...more exciting." He nodded with a smile and sipped the drink again. "I like this," he said pointing to it.

[transwarp_beam]

"Oh aye?" he said, intrigued. He'd studied energy transmission and the properties of sound waves, of course, but he'd never really thought of music and maths as being more than superficially related. He nodded along as Donnie replied. "Aye, I fancied an electric guitar. Couldn't afford it but. Least, no' a decent one. M'brother picked me up an old acoustic second-hand...think m'nephew's got it now."

[im_a_donnie]

"I-I-I I couldn't make you one. An electric guitar. I mean, you probably could too, but I could. I could show you some...how to play. It's-uh-It's really conducive to-uh-to brain activity. And...girls like it, too. Some guys. Really sexy in that archaic way. Tswhat someone told me several years back in New Orleans. It's amazing the relationships that can be formed over the relationships between velocity, wavelength, and frequency of a string fixed at both ends," Donnie said. He sipped his drink again. "Sweet."

[transwarp_beam]

For a moment he could only blink, utterly taken aback. "I- um. Wow. That'd be...bloody hell. Thanks, man, that'd be amazin'."

[im_a_donnie]

"Mhm, yeah, mhm!" Donnie said in the midst of another sip.

"N-not that bad, here," Donnie replied looking from where his hair was hanging over his eyes providing him a more relaxing view of only half the crowd.

Excuse me, sir. Would you like a napkin? He felt a hand clamp around his arm and the world stopped. He stared into his hair wordlessly, frozen. Hot, clammy, hand. Heat through his shirt. Smelling his sweat. Get off. Get. Off. Stop stroking and shaking. Sir? Must have been Marosi.

[transwarp_beam]

...well that didn't look good. "He's fine, mate," Scotty told the waiter; politely, but with a distinct undertone of 'piss off'. As the man moved off he turned to Donnie with a look of mingled concern and confusion. "Y'alright?"