With his peaceful surrender, Jon was escorted to a guest wing, guards posted at either end of the hall. He was told he had access to the guest cafeteria and recreation area, but he wasn't allowed past the guards without an officer in attendance. Nodding, he inspected his quarters, pleased at what he thought was lavish accommodations. Much more than he was used to, at any rate.
Politely requesting a personal conference with the young female officer who took him into custody, he explained that it was their custom to only 'negotiate' with the people who detained them, though he wouldn't admit that that wasn't entirely true. He had felt a connection with the young red head as she carefully took him into custody. She was gentle and kind, and her face had done this delightful color change when they had made eye contact.
In his culture, color changing was usually a sign of attraction. He wasn't sure if it was the same with the earth humans or not, but in any case, he had liked it. He wasn't sure exactly what it signified, but he was sure she was a kind person and that was the kind of person he wanted to be talking to.
As he waited for her to arrive, he moved about his room. Sitting on his bed, he was pleased to find it bouncy and comfortable. He was sure he'd be able to sleep well on it. Although, he was pretty sure the covering would have to go on the floor at night. It was bulky and restricting.
He noticed the small table in the opposite corner had some buttons on it's surface. Moving to sit before them, he curiously pushed the first of the three. When he pressed it, the top of the table in front of him started to move. It slid forward and tilted up, making a screen for him to look at. Beneath where it had been, a keyboard raised up level with the table top. Curiously, he pressed the second button, pulling his hand back quickly as the screen popped on and spoke to him in the language of the Coalition.
"Please input desired search parameters," it kept saying in a tinny female voice.
He didn't know what to do, so he pressed the third button, letting out a breath of relief as everything slid back into its proper places. He was certain he'd have to ask the young lady how to work the talking table when she arrived. He thought it was a learning device, but he didn't want to tamper with it until he was certain.
When she finally arrived, he had finished going over the sparse furnishings in his room, thoroughly satisfied with everything. When she knocked, he opened the door, gesturing her in with a smile. She looked at him cautiously and his smile wilted at the corners a bit.
"If it will help put you at ease, we can leave the door open so the guards can see and hear." He hoped this would help her nerves.
Shaking her head, she stood, her hands behind her back. “No, that’s fine, really. Why did you want to see me?” She was rather nervous about being with the Unity member, but at the same time she was a bit excited. She couldn’t imagine why he wanted to see her so soon, but she was glad he did.
He gestured her to take a seat. “I’m sorry, all I can really offer you is the bed. I am Jon. I am here on a peace seeking mission.”
Taking a seat on the bed, she nodded. “I know why you’re here. I’m Special Officer Lieutenant Marissa Ladamere.” She looked about his quarters, frowning a bit. They could have at least given him a second chair… Although, she supposed the quarters were a far better cry than what they had originally intended. She had vehemently refused to allow her senior officers to put him in the brig, where they had intended to put him to start with. After all, the man had peacefully surrendered, was completely unarmed, and had done it all in the name of seeking peace. He deserved better than a cell in the brig.
Moving about the room, he nodded. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Ms. Ladamere. I wish I had another name to give you, but our society only functions on one name. So I am simply Jon. May I, though, inquire as to the name of this vessel, so when I approach your council, I know who to thank for the hospitality?”
She thought on it a moment, not seeing how it could hurt to tell him the name of their ship. “Certainly. You are aboard the Nosferatu. She’s the first of her kind. You’re quite lucky. I hand picked half the crew myself, just for this mission.”
Smiling, he pulled the chair behind the table around so he could sit before her. “Truly? That is wonderful. However… If you are just a lieutenant, how is it you have such authority as to pick a ship’s crew?” Putting his hand up in defense before she spoke, he offered a soft smile. “I mean no disrespect.”
Furrowing her brow, she wasn’t sure how much she should tell him. He was, after all, the enemy. Or, rather, a member of the enemy faction. Try as she might, she couldn’t see this man as an enemy. He just didn’t seem to have that kind of bone in his body. “I can’t tell you any more about that, I’m sorry. Just trust that this ship and this crew was chosen specifically for the task of… assisting you on your mission.”
Nodding, he changed the subject, not wanting to make her uneasy by inquiring about things he wasn’t supposed to know about. They spoke at length about different things but he never touched on the subject of her color change. He felt it was too soon to bring it up. After all, they had just met. In his culture, potential ‘others’ took weeks, if not months, to show their feelings towards one another. He wanted to tell Marissa all about his people and their ways. He wanted to know about hers as well. He was very interested in everything, not just the earth humans.
Before she left, he did inquire on how to use the table. “It spoke to me before you arrived. I did not know what to do.”
She smiled at him and pulled his chair back around the table. “It’s hooked into our learning mainframe. Everyone can access it from anywhere. Anything you want to learn about, within reason, can be found here. Nothing military, of course, and nothing potentially harmful. At least, not without the proper security clearances.”
Leaning over her as she showed him how to work it, he could smell her hair. It had a peculiar scent. Something flowery and sweet, but it was nothing like he’d ever experienced before and he was too self-aware to ask her what it was. Instead, he just watched her as she demonstrated the table. “What kinds of things can I learn?”
Shrugging, she sat for a moment. “I don’t know. Anything. What’s something you want to learn about?”
Deciding it was a good way to ask, he replied, “What is the scent of your hair?”
Laughing a bit self-consciously, she put in ‘lilac’ in the search bar and pressed the little enter button. He was amazed as a picture of a flowering shrub came up, accompanied by words describing it. He knew most of the English language, he had learned it in order to accomplish this task. However, with the fact that he could learn about just about anything, he was drawing a complete blank. He didn’t know where to start.
Starting as she began to stand, he straightened to allow her past him. As she moved past, he placed his hand on her shoulder. She stopped and went rigid under his touch. Pulling away, he frowned a bit. “I am sorry. I did not mean to cause you discomfort. I just wanted to thank you. I hope you’ll come back and see me again soon. There’s so much I want to ask you, and to talk about.”
Nodding, she smiled a bit. He couldn’t tell if it was forced or not. “Just tell one of the guards and I’ll come. I have special clearance to come whenever I want, so I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other. There’s a lot we both have to learn yet.” With that, she left his room, wiggling her fingers at him in a good-bye gesture.
As she walked by the guards at the north end of the hall, the taller of the two turned to her. “Marissa, do you think it’s really a good idea that you go see that… Unity member? I mean, who knows what he’s capable of.”
She shot him a look. She’d never really liked officer Marcone, but he was good at what he did, so she had begrudgingly chosen him for this detail. “Richard, you have no rights questioning my actions or my judgment. You just need to do your job. You’re a ‘second soldier’, just like half the people I picked for this. You and Johnson both are.”
Both men looked at her, both sharing the same sour expression. She hated throwing out the ‘second soldier’ cards, since she was among that string of officers herself. Her body build and height had seen to that, just as it had with these men. She disliked it as much as they did, but she hoped they understood. Turning on her heel, she marched down the hall, heading toward her own quarters at the other end of the ship.
![[send message]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/mail.png){kind=small}
![[befriend]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/friend.png){kind=small}
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Read Request
My Library
Flag Writing