Mess

Posted on 18 Mar 2020 @ 2:09am by Civilian Iola Hawkins

Mission: Mission 3 - Whom gods destroy ...
Location: Medusa's Head-Iola's Quarters
Timeline: MD6 1700
3410 words - 6.8 OF Standard Post Measure

Michael checked the time, he was to meet with Iola at the Medusa's Head for dinner and to continue on her lessons. He was worried he was going to be late, so he hustled. He arrived there, stepping inside looking for her. It wasn't difficult to find her, Iola's loveliness attracting some attention.

Iola turned as he entered and a bright smile lit up her face. "Michael!" She called out, enthusiastically waving him over. It was one of her choice words, as she seemed it important to at least be able to call her tutor and mentor. She was wearing a long deep red dress that made her almost look like a flower. Her long purple hair was cascading down her shoulders and she casually flicked a strand back, very much unaware of the stares she was drawing. "I glad you here," she said, using very clipped sentences, but proudly speaking all the same.

"I am glad I am here too. Lets go sit down and have some dinner." Michael said smiling at Iola, then giving a bit of a glance to those paying too much attention to Iola, as if to say, "Back to your own business" he then guided Iola to a table pulling out a chair for her to sit on.

Once they were seated, a waiter came over bringing menus "Here's your menus. I will send someone over to get your drink order."

She sat though the gesture was one she wasn't familiar with. "Why you hold my chair?" she asked, arching an eyebrow at him. "So odd..." She peered at the menu that was given to her, then pointed at one of the dishes. "That," she told her companion, unable to pronounce the name as it was still beyond her ability.

"On Earth its an old custom to pull out a chair when a lady comes to sit down at the table. Its a sign of respect. It doesn't happen too often. If it bothers you, I won't do it. Also it helps if a lady is wearing a dress and gives her a chance to sit comfortably. " Michael looks at what she is pointing at. "That is Beef Stew. It looks delicious and it comes with bread. And what sort of drink? I am going to have a Raspberry Lemonade." pointing at the picture.

"No bother," she said, casting him the brightest of smiles to indicate it really wasn't a bother. "Just water," she indicated her choice of drinks. Yet again he had used a word she wasn't familiar with "What is lady?" she asked curiously, leaning forward a little to give him her undivided attention.

Michael gave the waiter the order for both the drinks and the food.

He gulped slightly when he looked back into Iola's lovely blue eyes. "The correct way to ask the question, would be What is a lady." Michael said, "And my answer is this, the meaning of being a lady is a term of respect. Which is what I have for you, respect. You are polite, and gentle, respectful of others, you don't make people feel bad. That makes you a lady."

Michael hoped he didn't bungle that explanation to Iola.

"What is a lady," Iola dutifully repeated, carefully pronouncing each single word. "Don respected me," she finally shared, "trusted me to keep secret. Is that respect?" She tilted her head a fraction in question, causing her hair to fall across her shoulder. "You are same... are you lady too?"

Michael smiled gently, "The Don... I've not met any of the Dons. I am glad that the Don treated you with respect. However, I would be called a gentleman with me being a male, since I am treating you with respect. If a male doesn't treat you with respect, he isn't a gentleman he would be considered rude. You are female, which is why I called you a lady. Lady is for females, Gentleman is for males."

"Ah..." Her smile faded. "Other Dons bad, treat slaves bad. My master good, treat slaves well. Treat me well." She tilted her head at him again, an indication of curiosity. "Still find me lady? I slave..."

"Slavery is a bad thing, you should be free, and yes I still find you a lady. I don't consider you a slave. I don't think you are a slave as I am certain the Captain won't allow you to be a slave, wouldn't tolerate that. It would be something to talk with the captain about though. " Michael's brow wrinkling as he thought over her words. "On my planet, we don't allow slavery. There was slavery once, but it was banished."

"My Don working hard to make better treatment," Iola said, reaching out to touch his hand. "Please no think bad of him. He good person. Got you Science boss back right? He treated very well..." She frowned. "When he behave... He..." She paused. "What is word? Not do as said?"

"He was captured by the Don, and he was punished if he didn't obey him?" Michael kept himself from frowning, and kept his voice calm, though he did feel angry about that. "Has the Don punished you?" Not pulling away from Iola's touch.

"Punished.." Iola nodded in confirmation of the word. "He no listen, he try go away when Don say no. He hurt bad." She then nodded slowly. "Long time ago, I small, I no listen. No punishment for long time."

"I am glad no more punishment for you, but the science officer he was hurt bad. He is now safe, and I hope it stays that way." Michael stated gently.

The waiter arrived with their drinks, stopping for a moment as he watched the two, then gently cleared his throat. "Erm, excuse me, your drinks. your dinner will be arriving soon."

Michael gave a slight start, and looked up at the waiter. His focus had been all upon Iola. "Oh thanks." releasing Iola's hand so the waiter could put the drinks on the table.

"He good man, he understand me with gestures... sign..." She pulled her hand back as well. "I sad he was hurt, I help him, I warn him..." She shook her head. "Past now," she continued, sipping her water, "I here, I learn. New times. I tell Don later."

Michael nodded, "Besides learning to speak, what else would you like to learn?" It wasn't something he remembered asking Iola before.

"Other people. And me. Captain say I Orion... I take medicine now but no know why. Tell me about Orion? Tell me about Human? about Spots?"

"You are an Orion female, and the reason why they have you take some medicine, is that the females of your race give off a pheromone which causes a male to react to them. So it is to make certain the males do not act rudely to you. Or lose control of their willpower. Human females don't have those sort of pheromones. As for those who have spots, like the science officer. He is a trill." Michael taking a drink then placing his glass down.

She nodded, seemingly absorbing his words. "You Hooman," she said, sorely mispronouncing the word. "Trill has wife. You have wife? Baby?" She shaped her arms as if to cradle an infant. "He only wanted home, wife and baby. Why he no listen." She gave him an intense look. "You have mate?" she repeated, having seen people of the same gender be somewhat intimate too but not knowing the other terminology.

"Its pronounced Human." Michael softly corrected her. "Aidan does have a wife and he wanted his freedom. I don't blame him. He didn't want to be in captivity, and honestly I would have fought for my freedom as well." He took another drink from his glass, preparing himself to answer her other questions. "I don't have a mate, or a girlfriend. Some would say a significant other or companion. Or even partner. Which all of those different words could be confusing."

"Hew-man," she repeated with a nod, listening to his explanation. "I alone," she finally said, "no family." She pronounced the last word carefully, chopping it into syllables as she did. "Few friends. Don is friend." She wasn't sure how to explain that her master was the closest thing she even had to family. That her loyalty to him was more than just that of a slave to her master. "Where is food?"

Michael caught the tone of frustration in Iola's voice as well as saw her expression. He looked around to see if the waiter was coming with the food, which he was arriving rather quickly. Reaching out his hand to Iola and placing it on her hand, Michael stated, "Iola, you are doing well on your speech. Take a deep breath, then let it out slowly."

Iola took a deep breath and let it out slowly, just as he indicated. "Not well enough," she stated, "I misunderstood, I hungry." She paused. "I alone. Only you help. Not enough. Need more."

"I will get others to help out in your education too. Would you like to have our Counselor True help out as well? There are some things that she'll be able to explain to you, better than I can. Since I am not a female... she may have other ideas."

As the waiter came nearer to Michael and Iola's table, one of the other diners stood up at the wrong moment knocking the tray and the stew out of the waiter's hands, the bowls of hot beef stew flying towards Michael and Iola's table. Michael caught that out of the corner of his eye, moved forward across the table to shield Iola from the deluge of stew. He didn't want her to get burned.

Startled, Iola pulled her hand back as both of them were showered with hot food. "Ewww!" she exclaimed as she shoved her chair backwards. "Stupid man!" she scolded the waiter, "food for eating, not wearing! Stupid!"

The waiter was mortified, the other customers stunned, "I'm sorry, so very sorry!" the customer who caused the accident also offered his apologies.

"It was my fault, I stood up at the wrong moment." looking at both Michael and Iola.

Michael moved over to check on Iola and to hopefully calm her down. A slice of carrot and potato sliding down his cheek. "Iola, its okay, it was just an accident. Are you okay?" picking a potato out of her hair.

"No," she answered curtly, her eyes blazing. "Want to go." She grabbed his hand. "We change, we go away." Dragging him along, she stalked out of the mess. "This icky. Need shower. Need your help."

Bemused, Michael goes with Iola, to where she is taking them. "I'll do what I can to help out."

She led him to her quarters, growling ferally as she tried to peel her dress off. "Need help," she begged of him. "Sticky mess. Please help?" She looked up, her expression one of desperation. "Please?" She wanted to get clean, and dry, and she wanted food!

"Lets go into the bathroom and I'll help you get out of this." gently steering her there. He then proceeded to help her out of the sticky stew covered outfit. "I can get this cleaned so that you'll be able to wear it again. As for you, why don't you get in the shower and I will wipe most of this off of me. In fact while you shower I'll go get changed and be right back."

Iola shook her head. "I get something more comfortable than tight dress," she said, then grabbed his arm. "Please, no leave. Use mine." She led him into her modest bathroom. "So odd... no water, still get clean. I used to bath, plenty foam." She smirked at him. "Much fun."

"Yes a bubble bath can be rather fun I used to take one when I was a boy. " Michael replied, as his mind was racing, figuring out just what he was going to do about this particular situation. "I'll have the replicator supply me with a change of clothing. While I do that, why don't you use the shower first, I'll take my turn afterwards."

"Acceptable," Iola said, while letting her dress slip down her shoulders. She casually kicked it aside along with the rest of her clothes and stepped into the booth. She sighed softly as all the sticky muck was cleansed from her body. Then she realized she probably should've replicated new clothes first, before getting in the shower. Having grown up a slave however, she had little sense for modesty and so she simply cycled down the sonics, stepped out of the booth and headed straight for her bedroom. She remembered she always had some spare clothes in a closet, so she started to rummage through until she found what she was after. "Your turn," she called over her shoulder.

While Iola was in the shower, Michael got his replacement clothing ready He had his back turned when she came out of the bathroom. He just wasn't someone who was going to gawk at an undressed female. Especially Iola. He had a lot of respect for her. Michael stepped into the bathroom, removed his clothing placing it into a single pile, then stepped in to scrub himself down. As he showered, Michael mentally scolded himself, he was just not thinking clearly earlier. He should have insisted on going to his own quarters and then come back. He shrugged, what's done is done. Shower finished, Michael stepped out, getting dressed quickly. He had a pair of comfortable slacks, a blue long sleeved tee shirt, and a pair of slip on shoes.

Iola on the other hand had chosen very comfortable clothes indeed. She was wearing a couple of sizes too big sweatpants and sweater in what appeared to be starfleet issue grey. It was utterly unflattering but she looked happier for it. On her feet were sneakers and her hands were stuffed in the sweater's singular front pocket. Her eyes sparkled as Michael came out of her bathroom. "That not comfortable," she mused as she pointed at him, then shrugged. "Is it? This comfortable, very.... roomy."

"This is comfy, not tight and I can move in it." in fact the slacks were slightly baggy but not overly so. He hated really tight clothing that you can't move in." And that looks comfortable too. Now what shall we have to eat? I am not in the mood for stew at this moment." Michael making a funny face.

"No stew," Iola chuckled, gesturing towards her replicator. "Egg sandwich?" she asked, "soup?"

"Water for you, or something else?" Michael asked, while placing in their orders in the replicator. He selected a roast beef sandwich with fries and some ginger lemon tea.

"Red wine," she suggested, "go well with meat. What are...fries?"

"Pieces of potatoes about the width of a finger. On Earth some refer them as french fries." Iola's food appeared along with the red wine. His was next along with the tea.

He took the food over to the small table, setting it down. "Dinner is served."

"Poh-tay-too," she repeated as she sat down. She cast him a sly smile. "Food on plate, not on us," she said as she sniffed at it, "smell good. This your favourite?" She seemed to take the sandwich apart with her eyes, studying it. "I no favourite, eat everything if edible. Eat well growing up, eat everything." She meant to say that as a slave and as assistant she needed to or it might offend a host or guest.

"I do like roast beef sandwiches, but I don't have a favorite sort of food." He paused thinking for a moment," well, actually I do love berry pie with vanilla ice cream on the top for dessert. When it comes to food, as long as it is edible and tastes good, I will eat it. Though I have eaten things that are edible but don't necessarily taste good unless you add a little bit of salt." Thinking of the things he'd eaten before, like grubs, grasshoppers, locusts.

Iola nodded in understanding. "I ate tasteless food too," she confirmed, "when go to other Dons, sometimes food yuck but eat anyway. Polite." She took a bite of her sandwich and chewed carefully. "This nice. You say ice cream? What is vanilla?"

"In some ways it difficult to describe, except to taste it. There are other flavors of ice cream such as chocolate, strawberry to name some of the other flavors." Michael replied, then taking a bite of his sandwich.

"Show me sometime?" Iola asked, her curiosity piqued again. "Maybe not now, or maybe now? We have time yes? All evening?" As far as she knew, she didn't have any further appointments this evening so she was free to try out anything new, provided her companion was willing and able.

"Most of the evening, until it is time for me to get some sleep" Michael replied. "Once we are done eating, I can introduce you to those flavors of ice cream. " Michael smiled. "Oh and definitely make certain to have some warm water, when we have the ice cream. You eat too fast, you will get an ice cream headache, which some call it brain freeze."

"You sleep here," the Orion woman prompted, "many space here for just me, you stay." She finished her sandwich while watching him expectantly. "Vanilla is favourite? I not try many Earth fruit yet... Or maybe have but not know. Don always many fruits, from all over. I like small dark red...has green stick, sweet but also sour."

" Yes Vanilla is my favorite. The fruit you just described are dark red cherries. They are good." Michael gave a slight sigh as he spoke the next part. He didn't want Iola feel like he was rejecting her but he wasn't going to sleep in her quarters.

"As for sleeping here, I'm tempted to do so, but I won't. I respect you very much. You are beautiful and intelligent, but I would feel wrong in sleeping here. And so after we taste test some of the ice cream, I will be going to my quarters."

"Why." She looked confused at his statement. "Only practical. Stay here, sleep there." She pointed at the couch. "In morning we work. Save time yes?" She looked at him, not sure at all about his words. "Why tempted, why say one thing but not stay. You say respect, but I ask. My offer yes? Not same bed."

"I am tempted, because I am tired. The couch is comfortable but I do have work in the morning and I want to sleep in my own bed. I stay here, I won't get a lot of rest. There are things in my quarters that are familiar to me which remind me of home, and that helps me sleep." Michael responded, truthfully.

This, she could understand. "I not home," she finally said, "my home far away, not here. New place, this not home. We adapt."

"Yes adapting is good, its made much easier though, when having a symbol of home with you. Memories are fine most of the time, but then something physical is touched, it makes the memory even stronger." Michael said gently.

"I have nothing," Iola answered, "own nothing. No objects, nothing." As she gestured around, it was painfully evident her small quarters were very sparse on personal touches indeed. "You go. See you tomorrow," she finally said.

Michael nodded, then asked Iola, "Have you ever had a stuffed toy animal?" something which occurred to him to ask.

"A what?" the Orion woman asked, "what is toy animal?"

"well its something that someone has to give comfort, or like it cause its something that they think is cute and cuddly. Here let me show you." Michael brings up examples on his PADD. "We also can make your quarters a bit more comfortable, add personal touches."

Iola gave him an unexpected and rather spontaneous hug at that offer. "I like," she beamed at him, "but not now. Now you go, you sleep. Do tomorrow, yes?"

Michael grinned, returning the hug. "Yes, tomorrow and pleasant dreams tonight." he went and picked up his clothing gives her a happy nod and leaves.

---

● “ Ensign Michael Hawkins“
Chief Operations Officer
USS Andromeda

Iola
Don's Envoy
pnpc Aidan