JDL | FADM Blyx Red & COM Jorgun | "Eating Out" (Part One)

Posted on 241708.02 @ 12:34am by Fleet Admiral Blyx Red & Commodore Jorgun

Mission: Non-Plot Log
Location: Flag Wardroom | Cold Station Theta

Jorgun had spent the remainder of the day going over sector reports, reviewing patrol routes, and checking in on the new construction projects on the 03 deck where Commander Stinson and his team were finishing work on the solar shield that would allow the station to install a hydroponic lab and arboretum. This part of the station had been deemed least vital in the rush to get operations up and running. Jorgun wanted it finished because it would supplement the station's food supplies and provide natural fresh air, a commodity sorely lacking. Many of the planned flora would be vegetables, fruits, and legumes selected from around the quadrant and edible to most known sentient species. It seemed only right while the resources were available to complete this part of the station, that he should do so.

He looked at his chronometer at least thirty times an hour right up until time for him to prepare the flag wardroom. As the only two flag officers currently on the station they had the place all to themselves though neither had taken meals at the same time in the last week. Jorgun wasn't certain if Admiral Red had ever even eaten a meal in this room. He pulled the fine white Denobulan silk table cloth from the drawer and draped it over the small round side table near a window. He then replicated two red candles and their crystal holders and began programming the replicator for his chicken dish.

His choices of formal wear were limited and included his dinner dress uniform, a tuxedo of black, and his Orion dignitary outfit. The uniform was out as he wanted this to be a dinner between friends, not colleagues. The tuxedo was in desperate need of pressing. So, he pulled the Orion outfit from his closet. The royal blue hand woven silk richly embroidered with gold accents in Orion abstracts fit him like a glove. The blue silken slacks that went with the shirt were loose fitting and allowed the imagination and his manhood some breathing room. His feet were clad in a pair of sandals which crisscrossed his foot and terminated at the ankle.

He was back in the wardroom freshly showered and looking presentable at ten minutes till six. He had everything hot and ready in silver covered dishes when the ancient earth wall clock chimed the hour. A feat made all the more impressive by the delicate work required by his indelicate hands and the short amount of time it took. He lit the candles and stood waiting.

After duty, Blyx had taken her sweet time trying to figure out just exactly what this occasion called for as far as attire. Jeans and a t-shirt seemed so... Drab. Evening gown was indeed too much. Her duty uniform? She hated the damned thing and couldn't wait to shed it the moment she walked through the door into her quarters. A finger thoughtfully tapped on the swell of her lower lip as she continued along the line of clothing she'd kept stashed away for various engagements until she finally fell on a black silk dupioni number. Tea length, it was decidedly more than vintage in style but still so very fresh. Even the sleeves, off the shoulder they were wide and crossed over her chest before buttoning down on one side with large, jet buttons. It was a lovely piece. The last time she'd worn it had been to a gala in which Aine had been promoted to Captain sometime after the war with Federation First. Such a shame it had sat in a closet for a couple years. Gathering it up from the hook of it's satin covered hanger, Blyx had admired it as she drifted towards her bed and gotten dressed.

The next thing she knew, hair pulled up in a smart and dainty roll, she found herself entering her wardroom. Their wardroom, she corrected herself. Jorgun was a part of Cold Station Theta and the Beta Quadrant now. Learning to share was proving a wee bit difficult, but something she knew better get it together on. He'd be off on the Vindicator, she'd be moved to her new 'habitat', and when he returned things would be so very different.

Maybe.

"So much for a simple dinner," Blyx greeted the Orion with a wry smile, mentally praising herself for not just opting for jeans and a t-shirt.

"I don't recall saying it would be simple." Jorgun grinned at her. He held out his large hand indicating that she should be seated at the table and then stepped in behind her chair pulling it out so that she could be seated. "I hope you're hungry, I have been smelling dinner for the past ten minutes and it's all I could do not to start without you." Jorgun would never have been so rude, though many of his fellow Orions would have had no issue with it. "I would like this to be a social dinner. Relaxing and... social. First names perhaps?" Jorgun didn't know if she would allow herself to be called Blyx, though she had called him Jorgun often in the past week.

Taking her seat, Blyx couldn't help but shake her head. He was trying, and she'd give him the credit where it was due. "I'm a little peckish," She allowed, nodding from side to side as if she weighed the phrase. Honestly, she was famished and the succulent scent of the chicken francese only helped kick start her appetite. Then there was something about being social and relaxed, first names being used instead of their titles and ranks. She considered the options for a second before ultimately deciding that there was a distinct lack of harm in that, "Alright, Jorgun... We'll try things your way for the evening." A napkin fell daintily into her lap, covering the fine silk of her dress as she practiced the fine Southern etiquette and charm that had been drilled into her practically from birth. Her father had been a Senator, a fine man that demanded that everything around him be elegant and, in a word, marvelous. That included his often unruly daughters. She and Susan had been a fine mix of trouble up until they were both accepted by the Academy in an act of rebellion against their father's political interests. That was a story for a much different time and place.

"It seems you've gone through a lot of trouble for a simple social dinner." Instead, her interest was drawn far away from the past in Virginia and back to the here and now. The royal blue was odd, but suiting, choice of color when paired against the unique verdant hue of his skin. "One may accuse you of trying to play the role of kiss ass with your new boss." The gold, she decided, was what pulled it all together though she feared, in earnest, that the fabric was about to split at the seams at any second with the way it pulled taught over his muscles like a second skin. Everything the Orions did was either sensual or related to their sensuality in some way. For a Matriarchal society, it certainly made sure that it was known that their men were naught more than objects of desire. Jorgun had been lucky to come away from them with not only a sense of decency but propriety... Or so it would seem. In her time she'd never seen, nor met, a member of his species quite like him and she sincerely doubted she ever would. Time would tell what, exactly, his motives were and she was eager to see them. "I certainly hope that's not the case." She grinned as she smoothed out yet another imaginary wrinkle in the cloth napkin in her lap.

Smiling, Jorgun said, "A social dinner is about comradery, companionship, relationship but not ass kissing, Blyx." Her name rolled off his tongue like honey. He opened the first dish and served a simple salad made of Romaine, shredded carrot, small cherry tomatoes, and crisp croutons tossed in an oil based dressing. Humans believed this course was necessary to wet the pallet and induce appetite. Jorgun needed no such inducement. "Tell me about your family. Your son who serves aboard the Vindicator, is he your only child?" Jorgun tucked into his salad spearing a tomato with the small, four tined, gold plated fork used for eating salad. The table had been set formally with each course accompanied by its appropriate utensil.

"One could easily debate that." Blyx chuckled lightly as she gathered up her fork and began to pick at her salad. The crisp romaine was heaven, refreshing and delightful as she began to allow herself the chance to relax and enjoy what had been designed for her pleasure. He wanted to talk about family, a topic that definitely had a great big heading of 'it's complicated' drawn across and beside it and she couldn't help but offer a small, if not weary, smile, "Colt? No. He's one of two children" She began, his name a happy melody as she spoke, "His sister Aine is about to take her first command, and Colt is just starting out but will go places. He's a smart boy, brilliant really, but as wild as wild can be." Blyx's head shook with a light, airy chuckle, "I suppose it's genetic. Rochelle, Commodore Ivanova, was the same way just as her mother was before her... And I have to admit I was a total rapscallion in the beginning." Talking to him came so easily, so freely. It shouldn't have, considering the fact that he was very much a stranger, but it did. "Anyway, the kids... They have their father's nature for the most part. More analytical than reactive. Colt, especially, is more of a hunter. He'll sit and wait and watch for an opportunity rather than bulldoze his way through."

Jorgan listened, rapped by the way she spoke so easily and freely. When she had finished telling about her children she spoke of their father. This was a subject Jorgun knew only bits and pieces of. Jorgun wondered how she would answer the question if he asked about her children's father.

The salad was nearly gone so Jorgun lifted the silver domed cover from the Chicken Francese. A thin cloud of steam and savory smells rose to fill the area with the delightful aroma of herbs and citrus. Taking out one delicious breast Jorgun gently placed it on her dinner plate and then did the same for himself. "Would you like some of the sauce on top?" Jorgun asked as he ladled a small amount over the top of his chicken breast. As he waited for her to finish what she had in her mouth he asked, "Is their father still in the picture?"

"Please," Blyx nodded having put away one of the cherry tomatoes on her salad plate. Then came the question of the hour and it had rolled ever so nonchalantly off the Orion's tongue, as simple as if he'd asked her favorite color or if she'd like a glass of water with her wine. Jorgun was a smooth operator that seemed to know the correct song and dance routine around the table. Had he practiced or was it biological? She considered this thought for a moment as she picked up her wine glass and took a small sip, cleansing her palate in preparation for the main course. "Yes," her head canted to the side slightly, "He wasn't until just recently but has been making an attempt." Cobalt eyes watched the Commodore for any form of reaction, waiting to measure his response when it came.

Jorgun was careful not to look daunted as he placed a bite of succulent chicken in his mouth. He nodded his head slowly as he chewed. "I see. Are his efforts appreciated or in vain?" Jorgun was prepared to be all in but would not be crushed at this juncture if he had to be without. He had, after all, spent the better part of forty years without in regards to lasting relationships. He had enjoyed several one night stands and had always tried to please though none had been lasting. He looked over at her as he placed another piece of chicken in his mouth. He bore an expression on his face of anticipation and humble longing that came so naturally to him he rarely noticed he wore it.

Carefully, the woman set her glass back down and raised both of her eyebrows with a slight shake of her head, "Truthfully, that remains to be seen." she answered and began cutting into her own cutlet. Sometimes it was hard to believe that a replicator could produce something near as beautiful or delicious as what was plated in front of her. One bite, she was in heaven. "Aleksandr is a man of many demons and many talents. He left before Colt was born and we've only seen him a couple times in between then and now." Blyx almost sighed as she spoke, pausing in her pursuit of bite two to clarify and build upon her answer to the question, "Commodore DiAgessi was more or less their father, but they never really took to him. Alek?" Her head shook, "Aine has no interest in him. Colt... Remains to be seen, but from what I've been told he seems open to learning more about him."

Jorgun sliced off another bite of chicken. "It is good stuff, isn't it. The recipe belonged to my Chief of Security aboard the Constance. Her family held on to many traditions of the past. She told me that cooking was just the most useful of those old traditions. I have asked you question after question of yourself and given you no time to ask anything of me. I assure you I am in no way as interesting as you are, but if you ask I shall answer." The questions she asked if any would determine how Jorgun chose to proceed.

Nodding, Blyx took another bite of food. The story behind the recipe was one that held her interest. Some things were just too good to try and package into a replicator, others transcended art and seemed to correlate just fine. This was a matter of the latter rather than the former. Jorgun was not unlike the food he served in that he was a unique, though traditional, take on the status quo. He was exotic, but rather savory, and seemed to hold his secrets about as well as she held her wine... Not very. "Alright," she began, gathering up her napkin to daintily dab at the corner of her mouth as a just in case precaution. The lemony sauce, though thick, was a dangerously liquid pitfall of mess and disaster were it not handled properly, "Tell me, Jorgun... Why Starfleet and why here? As a Commodore you had choices, but you chose to come out into the black. That's a task for either the very brave or the very foolish." The wry smile was back as she cut another bite for herself, "I don't see a fool when I look at you, but looks can be deceiving..." She teased, "So which is it?" She asked, popping the bite into her mouth.

Jorgun looked genuinely surprised at the question. "You forget, I was not a Commodore when I arrived nor did I know I was to be made one. I had never heard of this sector or this station prior to my receiving orders to report to you here. I assumed after I arrived and you promoted me that this was your choice." Many time in his career Jorgun had been allowed to pick his orders and twice he had been assigned with no choice. He had grown to understand the needs of the Federation came before his own and hadn't questioned the orders when they arrived nearly a month ago directing him to report to Fleet Admiral Red aboard Cold Station Theta for reassignment. "But, Blyx, this is not the time to discuss work. This is the time to discuss who we are and what we want." He smiled at her. "I have spent my youth traveling the stars for the Federation. I can have an hour without talking about it or thinking about it. You can too. Dessert?"

"Oh please... You had to have some inkling." She hummed demurely, looking at him out front under her lashes as she finished the last of her dish. What surprised her most was the way he redirected her line of conversation. He wanted personal, the unknown, a glimpse into the mystery that was Blyx Red. He didn't want to see the Admiral, he wanted to know the woman within the uniform. Or was it that he wanted her out of the uniform? "But I'll digress and let you feed me dessert in exchange for forgiveness of my little social faux pas."

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To Be Continued...
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Fleet Admiral Blyx O. Red
Commander, Beta Quadrant
Cold Station Theta

&


Commodore Jorgun
Commander, Cheydinhall Sector
Cold Station Theta