aehallh: (Default)
Commander Irian t'Arrae, RRW Bloodwing ([personal profile] aehallh) wrote in [community profile] ten_fwd_ooc 2014-07-23 02:40 am (UTC)

Following his lead, she pulls out the chair on the other side of the table, sitting down and folding her hands across her lap, keeping her back straight. Someone happens by at that moment to see if either of them want anything to drink; she asks only for a glass of water. Irian suspects that someone would find a way to produce Rihannsu ale for her if she asked politely enough, contraband though it is on a Federation vessel, but now doesn't seem the time; and human alcoholic beverages, the only other sort she's tried, are almost tasteless by comparison. So water it is.

His first inquiry elicits a slight, dry smile that is gone almost as quickly as it appears. It's easy enough to tell that, while she doesn't have a Vulcan's perfectly studied calm, she isn't an effusive woman, either. "That," she says, "is quite a question, and one with more than one answer." She leaves it at that, for the time being, apparently content not to be more forthcoming unless he presses her. There's no reason to give away everything she knows at once, after all.

The server comes back with her water, and she takes it with a polite acknowledgement, cradling the cool glass between both her hands.

"As for your question of time: this is the past, for me. Forty-three years in the past."

And how many years in his future, she wonders? How much of what she has been told about the Spock in her timeline will hold true for him?

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