First Meetings
Posted on February 24th, 2016 by T'Lira

“So, to sum all of this up, we’re getting a small convoy of Romulan refugee ships. Any questions?”

Commander Kieran Sanchez looked around the briefing room and wondered just how many questions he would have to answer from this staff. They were all so… young! The oldest couldn’t be any more than thirty, maybe thirty-five.

Just as he was scratching his grey beard, a single hand lifted.

“Fine, fine, go ahead, Lucy,” he muttered.

Lieutenant Lucille Mgamba frowned at him, “It’s not a stupid one, I swear. I’m just wanting to know what Engineering will need to do to support those ships and fix them up, as well as getting the Infirmary more room for patients.”

“You’re right, that wasn’t stupid, for once. You’re to repair those ships once their captains get you a manifest of damage. The Infirmary will need room for quarantine and for children. I’ve got reports that there are roughly three dozen orphaned children amongst the refugees. I want you to create an area where they’ll feel safe.”

She nodded and got to work on her PADD.

“Okay, Doctor sh’Zheva will help you with that as well as prepping the Infirmary. Uh, Sciences, you help, too. I don’t exactly have a task for you right now.”

The Vulcan scientist favored him with the raised eyebrow that told him that she did, indeed, have something to do, but would follow orders. At least, that’s what he thought it meant. Vulcans were always so damned confusing.

Mgamba turned to the Vulcan, “Hey, Lieutenant T’Lira, is it? Right, sorry, I’m bad with names. Anyway, I think it would be good for the kids to get some toys, and considering that they’re Romulan, maybe they would find Vulcan puzzles interesting. I dunno, just thinking aloud here.”

T’Lira continued to lift that eyebrow, “Romulans and Vulcans share vast cultural differences. Perhaps it would be best to research their culture and find objects that hold fascination for them.”

“So, Romulan kid toys, got it,” Lucy nodded rapidly. How she didn’t give herself whiplash doing that, Kieran had no idea.

(+)(+)(+)(+)(+)(+)(+)

T’Lira was working on setting up a layout plan for the quarantine area when she heard a voice call out, “They’re here, ahead of schedule! Sir, one is minutes from a warp core breach.”

“Transport them out of there, now!” Commander Sanchez ordered.

“Yes, sir,” Ops replied, busily getting on that.

The next two minutes were tense as the ship imploded on its singularity core, scattering the others.

“Did we get them?” Sanchez asked, his voice oddly quiet.

“Not all of them, sir. Sensors couldn’t get a lock on some, but about seventy percent of them are aboard.”

Sanchez swore, “That will have to do. Operations to Infirmary, you’ve got incoming. One of the refugee ships just blew, so you’re going to be busy in a moment.”

“Infirmary here!” Doctor sh’Zheva replied, voice tense, “They’re already here and I’ve got a lot to deal with! Infirmary out!”

“Sir,” T’Lira piped up, “If I may, the ship did not explode, it imploded.”

“If that’s supposed to be your attempt at a joke, Lieutenant, it’s got bad timing and ought to have been kept to yourself.”

“No, sir. Humor is illogical for Vulcans. It was an observation of fact.”

Sanchez offered a glare and sighed, “Get down to the Infirmary. Looks like that quarantine section is going to need to be set up now.”

“Aye sir.”

(+)(+)(+)(+)(+)(+)(+)

T’Lira arrived in the Infirmary and noted that it was chaos. Cries of wounded and children seemed to permeate the air, as well as the stench of unwashed bodies and fear. Hardly an odd occurrence, considering that those refugee ships were mostly likely old and filled to capacity.

“Lieutenant Mgamba,” she called out, quickly finding the engineer, “Do you require assistance?”

The lieutenant looked flustered as she stood in the middle of a small group of children, holding an infant, while trying to gain access to the recently constructed children’s facility.

“Ah, there you are. Um, I forgot the codes, so I need to hack in and change them. Uh, here, hold the kid for a minute while I do this!”

And suddenly, T’Lira had an infant in her arms. To her displeasure, she almost dropped the child, but managed to correct her grip in time. The other children were confused and huddled, all looking so small.

As Mgamba sliced into the console, one of the children looked up at T’Lira.

“What will happen to us now?” the young boy asked earnestly.

“I do not know,” she told him, “I presume that you will be sent to either a relative on a colony world or to a Federation adoption facility and-“

She sharply cut off as she felt a tug on her hair. Looking down, she saw that the infant had grabbed some of her hair with his tiny hand and was making an odd noise as he kept tugging.

The noise of laughter caused her to look up at Mgamba as the engineer ushered the children into the newly opened room and laughed.

“I think he likes you,” she said, pointing at the infant.

T’Lira looked down at the infant again, “I was unaware that the grabbing of one’s hair precluded affection in infants.”

Mgamba just continued to laugh as she followed the children into the room. T’Lira used the console to bring up the layout plans for the quarantine facility as she continued to hold the infant. He seemed content to wave his hands about and for some strange reason, she felt as if this were normal.

Eventually, as she set the transporter operators on constructing the quarantine facility for the refugees, she noticed that he had fallen asleep. A chair was nearby, at another console, so she transferred her work to that console and sat down in the chair, still holding the infant.

A few of the refugees seemed to notice her holding the infant and one gave a slight glare, but was kicked by his comrade and quietly talked to. For once, T’Lira didn’t pay attention to such a discussion. She was too interested in this small being.

“His name is Taril,” the refugee who had kicked the other told her, walking over, “His mother died three days ago and I don’t think the rest of his family made it off the homeworld.”

“Taril,” she repeated, still gazing at the sleeping infant.

The refugee just smiled and set a PADD on the console.

“I asked a medtech for this. I was a minor government official on the homeworld. Just, look it over, alright?”

He left, heading back over to his fellow and T’Lira glanced at the PADD, taking in the form it displayed. Yes, perhaps that would be a useful form in the near future.

Taril continued to sleep, occasionally shifting slightly.