The First Move

Posted on Tue Apr 26, 2022 @ 11:32pm by Commander Cullen Walker & Lieutenant Penelope Naroot
Edited on on Thu Apr 28, 2022 @ 10:52am

1,364 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: We Will Take Care of You
Location: Cullen's Quarters
Timeline: 2200 Hours after initial meeting

Penelope stood outside Walker's quarters and rang the chime, trying to look nonchalant and relaxed as the doors opened.

Walker was reading, "Enter." He has multiple scrolls on his desk. Sometimes people forgot he was educated. He had degrees in Anthropology and History. He stood up.

"Hi," she said meekly, smiling up at him. "Could I come in?"

Putting down a book on Ancient Vulcanoid cultures, "You may. What can I help you with?" Despite the scrolls and books on Ancient Vulcanoid Cultures, his area was organized, like a squared away, very Starfleet. It was the work area of someone expecting to get called away on an assignment. Very little personal, except pictures of his kids. Another picture of his wife and kids, but it was old.

"Oh, nothing, really," she said, looking around idly. "I just kinda felt the need to drop by." She sat down on his couch. "It's been kinda rough with Camille and Nicole gone. Sometimes I get lonely. I know we've had a bit of a rocky time the first couple of times we've tried to be social, but I thought maybe this time we could just...hang out?" She gave him a sweet smile and shrugged her shoulders.

He offered her a seat, "Do you like mead or cizers? I made it myself. Or I can replicate something." He kept legitimate mead for rituals. He had synthetic mead for the daily drink.

Penelope tilted her head, thinking. "Cizer, please," she said. "I like the taste of apples."

He made her a synthahol cider, offering her a wooden cup, "Synthohol Cizer." He had both, but the other was for ritual purposes.

Penelope made a small face of disappointment. "Synthohol?" she said. "Isn't there some cultural reason we can have something real?" She made a pout and then giggled.

Touching the hammer on his neck, Walker spoke, "Between the Earth Spring Equinox and the Paschal Moon, Heathens would celebrate the Feast of Ostara, Eostre's Feast. The Goddess Ostara turned a Bird into a Rabbit. Because the way the magic was done, the Rabbit laid brightly colored eggs." He opened up the real cizer and made a glass.

She took the new glass and smiled. "Thank you," she said.

"In Honor of her Festival, Freyr gave her a boar." Walker continued, "As long as the bones weren't broken, the boar was immortal and could be eaten every year."

She took a long drink and sighed. "That's really tastey," she said, licking her lips slowly and looking down in her mug. "I appreciate your sharing that with me. Been kind of missing sharing moments with friends."

He went to the replicator, "Ostara plate 1. 2 plates." He brought her a plate. It had marinated and pit roasted ham, brown sugar and honey. It wasn't Hawaiian, but it was sweet with a touch of spice. Roasted potatoes. A roll with honey butter. Sprouted greens. Deviled eggs that had been dyed so the white was colored green, pink, and blue. Walker spoke, "You can't have a Festival without Feast." He offered her a plate.

Penelope smiled at him and took the plate. "You're very kind," she said. "And thank you."

Walker spoke, "This is one of our rituals were hunt and combat are not the primary focus."

She nodded. "Yeah, I kind of like those rituals better. Spending time with people, that kind of intimacy is usually preferable to hurting each other." She started eating, smiling in appreciation of the taste. "This is the kind of thing humans should focus on more. They'd get so much further with each other if they centered more feelings around cooking than fighting."

He spoke about the History, "Winter was always rough. The further North, it was rougher. This Festival is to Celebrate The Coming of Spring, the First Harvest, the Second Planting, and the Ice Breaking."

Penelope nodded. "I imagine ice breaking is pretty important to a sea-faring people."

"With the Ice Broken, ships can go fishing. What most people see as as simple violence, is about training and preparation for our lives. In modern times, we use replicators or cloned fish. Back then, we used to stand on the ice and hit it with an axe. Violence prepared our body to move if the ice broke too fast. At the Beginning of Spring, if you fell in the water, it was still cold enough it could refreeze over your head. We celebrate those brave enough to risk that. In modern times, we use tournaments to honor what our ancestors gave use. We use it in a normally controlled environment. Occasionally, we find one that doesn't have our honor code." He was referring to the one that killed his brother.

Penelope made a face. "Still, practicing violence just creates a market for it. I don't think I'll ever understand the need for it."

Walker raised in cup. "We celebrate those that gave their lives so that rebirth can happen."

"Skål," Penelope replied, raising her glass and taking a long drink. As Walker sat down, she slid next to him and leaned back against him. "You are a complicated people for hanging onto such a simpler time," she said. "But I suppose, having a code of honor helps. It's kept the Klingons from completely killing themselves off, and it allowed the Vulcans to master their emotions. Still, that tendency to self-immolate their respective cultures is there..."

She put her drink down and turned to look at him. "Thank you for your perspective," she said, then leaned up and kissed him.

He started to speak to go on, but she kissed him. Walker kissed her back, then broke the kiss, pushing her back a little. "Please don't during this time of year unless you mean it." He wanted this, but was keeping his control. Most people think the greatest Strength of a Walker is violence, but it is their control.

Penelope tilted her head. "I didn't do it 'by accident,' Cullen." She looked into his eyes and turned around completely, swinging a leg over and straddling his lap. "I wanted to kiss you, so I kissed you. If I am no longer of interest to you, tell me now." She folded her arms and did her best to look adorably angry.

Picking her up and carrying her to the wall, he kissed her again, "I never said I didn't want you. This time of year is different in my faith. It has meaning and context." He kissed her again.

Penelope felt her back to the wall and wrapped herself around him, returning the kiss. "I know all the context. I've been studying, it's kinda my thing. That's why I'm here now. I wanted you ready, willing and able." She kissed him again, deeper this time, her tongue driving hard as she unsealed her uniform top and shucked it aside, then in one quick motion, reached down and pulled her shirt off and threw it aside with deliberate finality. "So," she said, breathing hard, "are you?"

Grinning, he kissed her, "I am more than ready to make this sacrifice to the Gods." He kissed her again. "To be a father again." Not all Gods wanted a blood or death sacrifice, some wanted the Female orgasm.

Multiple sacrifices later, Penelope was adjusting her uniform top and smoothing it out. She stood up from Walker's bed and put her uniform jacket back on. The reports on him were impressively accurate. A mild aphrodisiac in her saliva was all it took to encourage copulation, and the sedative that his sensitive areas absorbed did the rest. She didn't appreciate him collapsing unconscious on top of her, but she at least took comfort from the fact that he appreciated the method of subduing him.

She walked over to his uniform and collected his communicator, then walked to the door and applied a medical quarantine override to the door lock, entering a 128-piece code at lightning speed. As she stepped out and the doors closed behind her, she sent a signal.

Target One neutralized. Will check in within twenty-four hours and re-administer sedative if required.




OOC: Note: Edited per author request for forgotten detail

 

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