Union of Civility

It is time.

Sochya and I are never late. We are always punctual, if not early, to arrive.

Therefore, we arrive at Captain Kirk’s quarters precisely .3 minutes prior to the time we were asked to arrive. I turn my head, holding my T’hy’la’s hand brazenly.

Such public displays-of affection are neither condoned, nor encouraged, in our native habitat. However we do not find ourselves on Vulcan as, our beloved planet no longer exists.

Before the steady clip of boot heels approaches, on the other side of the entrance I take a calculated risk. I bring sensitive digits to my mouth. Terran kisses, while holding Kefeh’s gaze with my own. “We are one.”

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~ by T'Naehm on April 27, 2011.

18 Responses to “Union of Civility”

  1. An unease exists within me in regards to our evening ahead, despite my level of determination for the only logical course of action I might take should the worst truly come to pass.

    I am aware that my Ashal-veh is privy to this, our joined hands both a statement and a reassurance.

    Mirrored hues meet at the feel of lips to sensitive fingers, the sensation carried along the synapses to the very depths of my mind with a quietly hummed vibration of ease and pleasure.

    “Always.” A murmur just as acute hearing picks up the sound of approaching steps, hands lowering, but by no means unclasping, standing firm together as the door hisses softly open.

    • Lieutenant Uhura stands before us, not in her uniform, but in a modest yet casual dress. Sochya Sa-Kai and I exchange a glance at her familiar attire, even as she addresses us with a very slight curtsy.
      Dorli* * gentlemen…” she offers a small smile and I understand her difficulty. I, therefore, incline my head politely & utter “Dorli Kasu“*** to her apparent enjoyment.

      She is our honorable host, but I am sure this is an official matter. Gesturing inside with a slender brown arm, exposing soft flesh clear to her shoulder, Uhura programs the door to lock, once we are inside.

      I do not bristle, but I am on high alert. I am prepared for anything from the arrogance of this Captain, who has twice since my arrival attempted intimacy with my T’hy’la, to ambush by simple crew members following orders blindly.

      If they understood our bond…if they were even capable of comprehending the ferocity with which I love and will protect my Ashalik, they would not dare.

      * *Honorable/Venerable
      ***Host

      • A subtle, but thorough glance is offered to our surroundings, taking note anything that might be considered out of place or peculiar from the last occasion I was present here.

        Apart from a noticeable neatness –as though another occupant had cleaned, not the Captain I know–, there is little of note. The temperature is higher than Terran standard…a courtesy to us?

        A nod of greeting is offered to Nyota, who then leads us to the Captain’s sitting area, presently transformed into a dining room, James Kirk standing by a table laden with an assortment of Vulcan delicacies. A dinner. As we were informed.

        Despite this, I remain alert. “Greetings, Captain.” I observe as his gaze flickers to our clasped hands before returning to us, his hands idly adjusting his formal wear, an emotion there and gone in his gaze.

        “Commander. Spock.” A nod to us both, a smile being offered, motioning for us each to sit.

  2. Sochya is indicating more wariness than I dare to convey. I smile inwardly at that, as his military training clearly did not include the falseness necessary to thwart the enemy.

    One’s intentions must never be known when in the presence of one’s enemies. Before I can chide myself for including Ms. Nyota in that equation, I note with a growling alarm that my T’hy’la is quite familiar with these surroundings.

    I feel my skin drain of the heat that the copper-rich blood provides. I am aware that this will be an indication of emotion, and likely to be interpreted as weakness.

    I swallow, calling to mind my Ko-kugalsu’s* * naked and wet form, less than 2.3 hours prior to this moment. I continue to watch my T’hy’la and swallow back bile at the thought of him here, with—-

    “—Captain Kirk.” the words are uttered by Nyota, no doubt sensing our silence for what it is. Discomfort.

    * *Fiance…intended

    • We sit, my Ashal-veh and I side by side, lowering neatly into the chairs present, Nyota and the Captain doing the same opposite us, silence reigning for a pregnant moment in time, none reaching for the nourishment available upon the table.

      Likely, that none of us are experiencing hunger.

      With our continual contact, I endeavor to convey to my T’hy’la that my only familiarity with these quarters was for the occasional game of 3D Chess, nothing more, the shift in his emotions tangible to me.

      “Jim…” Nyota’s prompting whisper strikes me as…intriguing. ‘Jim’. Familiarity.

      An elegantly upwept brow twitches imperceptibly upward, taking note of the faint gathering of capillaries to the blond’s cheeks.

      Fascinating.

      An azure gaze turns to her, something unspoken existent there before his attention returns to us. He begins with a surprising level of care and mindfulness. “Nyota and I…are together.”

      • I turn to my Fonn Ashayam to read my thoughts upon his face.

        Of course.

        The proximity in stance, the little touches on his forearm that Terrans are so fond of.

        My brow develops an imperceptible line between sharply upswept brows. But, of all people…him? I find the concept distasteful, to the point of feeling the slightest of wrinkles to my nose.

        In truth, I thought her above such a thing.

        If I had no appetite prior to this moment, I certainly do not harbor one now. I rest my hand on the slim thigh of my Sa-kan to convey my thoughts.

        She is a nurturing creature, but is this not taking matters a bit too far, Ashalik?

  3. Understanding is what follows initial surprise. The increased neatness to the quarters, the adherence to Vulcan preferences, the more subdued nature to the Captain…she has found a place within the inner workings of his life.

    For his sake? For our own? For herself? Perhaps there is truth to each reason.

    Nyota took the time necessary to understand me as an individual, in the past…perhaps she has now done so for the Captain, enlightening herself to a side of him he has not demonstrated to us, Ashal-veh.

    I study the pair. James continues. “This dinner wasn’t set up to attack you. It was to show you that I ‘get it now.’ To…apologize.”

    • Two sets of elegantly angled brows shoot into hairlines as my Kafeh and I attempt to assimilate this information.

      Ms. Uhura looks at both of us in turn, and we are able to discern her emotions immediately as a she covers her mouth with a dainty hand. The long digits possess a simple band, with a large clear stone.

      I squeeze the thigh of my Fonn Ashayam transmitting my confusion, again beneath the table, unseen.

      {What is the meaning of this. I feel I’ve seen such jewels before.}

      I look from smiling cheeks of a dusky rose hue, to the smear of ruddy skin beneath cerulean orbs, and back again.

      {I do not believe I have ever witnessed such a phenomenon, my Sa-kai. Please interpret?}

      I reach my available hand to take a glass of clear water.

      • I settle my palm atop my Trensu’s beneath the table, offering him my knowledge on the subject.

        {Terrans are known to utilize bands as physical symbols of both developing, and developed bonds. Nyota’s represents developing…an engagement band, my T’hy’la.}

        A subtle ease begins to settle over me, a near imperceptible warmth entering my gaze. Nyota had brought understanding and needed affection into the Captain’s life.

        A somewhat flustered chuckle leaves the blond upon noting it, his relief clear.

        “I can’t lose you, Spock. You’re the best First Officer in the whole damn fleet,” I observe as he gathers himself following this admittance, his own uncertainty seeming to pass, as a fist is good-naturedly slammed onto the table, index finger soon pointed at my Ashal-veh, icy blues glinting. “Definitely not through with you just yet, though, gladiator.”

        The cocky grin he is infamous for returns full force.

  4. A cloud of warm breath with a high alcohol content wafts in our direction as Sochya and I attempt to make sense of Kirk’s words.

    When he praises my beloved t’hy’la, I feel my cheeks shade a pale jade, with pleasure. I look to my Fonn Ashayam with adoration in my eyes as when I ruffle his hair, as I grasp his nape. If we were in the privacy of our quarters, that is precisely what I would have done.

    He knows this & his cheeks flush viridian. Then, the slam of Kirk’s ham-fisted emphasis.

    But I am a gentleman and I am on my feet at once, shielding my possession with my own body. I glower down at the thin hair I believe will bald with time. My voice drips with condescension “Illogical as the adversaries of gladiators were often at an advantage& you are not, Captain.”

    • The Captain, to his honor and credit bravely stands just as Trensu does, in a stance openly protective of Nyota, tension filling the air.

      “Hey, hey, easy there ‘warrior’,” careful but firm…holding his place as the captain of this ship, “lets not go throwing insults around, I’m not trying to instigate you,here.”

      There is a furrow to his brow, as though genuinely disconcerted by my Sa-Kai’s ‘unnecessary’ response.

      I remain silent, yet lift a hand to rest against my T’hy’la’s forearm…an effort to sooth via contact, despite my stilled breath..calculating.

      A blond head shakes, chuckling uneasily, “I was trying to offer you a position on my ship.”

      • Half a step backward, and I stumble against my Sa-kai who echoes my sentiment precisely “Fascinating.”

        Nyota trills with laughter as both of her hands come up to cover her mirth. I look at Kirk frankly appraising his state. If true, this would be a most convenient solution, one that obliterates Fonn Ashayam and my unspoken fears.

        Nyota runs toward us throwing a long brown arm around our-necks. “Do you see? It’s totally perfect and logical and this way you can stay and be useful and be together and you don’t lose any honor and it’s perfectly logical!”

        Sochya pats her arm politely & I find myself making a genuine effort to keep my voice free of humor “I see, Ms. Nyota. Run-on sentences illustrate your intentions succinctly. Well done.”

        I turn toward her intended & bow at the waist, brown eyes never leaving blues. “Very well.”

  5. Two hours following our ‘dinner’ with the Captain finds us within our private chambers once more, my formal wear neatly put away, sleep wear donned.

    Seated upon the sleeping platform, a quiet pride shines within my gaze, watching my intended doing the same.

    “Chief of Security.” I reiterate the Captain’s earlier words.

    Not position of little importance, not a rank of Ensign, but a true officer’s rank aboard this ship. A head to a complete and worthy department.

    “…Are you pleased, T’hy’la?”

    • My T’hy’la. Undressing.

      I am certain he does not have the first inkling as to the effect he has on my person. Body & soul.

      He disappears beneath the linens & looks at me expectantly. I heard the question, but my faculties are stunned.

      I shake my head to clear it. I nod in the affirmative. “But I do not believe you understand ‘Why’, my Taluhk Kafeh.”

      I run my fingers over the thickness of the strap that previously rested on my hips. “It will rest upon me to protect you.” My tongue has continued without permission.

      • It takes a moment for Trensu’s words to register, my brown hues following the path of his trailing fingers without any conscious decision of my own for them to do so.

        Transfixed, perhaps.
        Fascinated.

        What would the sensation be if—the thought cuts short, a dusting of viridian to pointed ear tips, gaze darting back to meet a mirror pair.

        “That is something you have, and will forever continue to do, is it not, Trensu?”

        A window into my mind,a subtle, but open vocalization of my utter trust in him with my being.

  6. I lift my eyes from his body, just in time to witness Sochya’s titillated gaze at the implement in my hands.

    The point of his tongue darts out to wet the centre of his upper lip.

    My hands grasp the thick strap tighter.

    My eyes roam, once more over his prone form, settling into our bed.

    “I am certain you can deduce my…the time we have spent together here, you & I, Ashalik…an effortless grace borne between us.” I gesture, futile in words.

    “Often I Lay awake just to watch you sleep.” I have been walking toward my sa-kai & now I swing a leg over his body, hungrily watching his visage.

    • I feel the heat of my Sa-Kai’s gaze as thought it were an unspoken brand all its own as he approaches, brown hues flickering to the thick strap within T’Naehm’s hand, and back again, body stilling more with each step despite the quickened thrum of life existent in my veins.

      Bodily contact is initiated, and as if only waiting for that, my eyes darken, pupils dilating with an emotion I realize I recognize… All in response to…

      “You look upon me, as though I am something you own.”

      …’Because you do‘ echoes in my mind.

      Something I, myself, have given him. Willingly. I shiver.

      “..My Trensu..” Breathed, digits curling within the sheets beneath me.

      • With a swift motion, I reach across my beloved petakov relishing in his flinch, and turn out the light.

        I lean close “That is a logical conclusion …because you are something I own.”

        I fist his hair and press my lips to his, in the enveloping darkness “But you know this.”

        My kafeh whimpers under me, that scintillating little mouth, pliable, willing, wanting…

        “What type of Trensu would I be if I failed to protect & care for my belongings, Kafeh?”

        I lay beside him, holding his body dorsal to mine. “Wani ra yana ro aisha, tahluk T’hy’la.”

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