Evan Malcolm looked up briefly as the door to his office hissed open, grunted, and then went back to the report on the screen in front of him. The minutiae of Engineering’s reports were not his concern – the summaries from his shift leaders, and specifically from his deputy, however were. He didn’t normally bother to look into the dailies, trusting his shift leads, only reading them when they tagged him specifically. But he’d found himself with nothing to do between his last meeting and the one that had just walked in and now wanted to finish giving it the attention it rightly deserved.

It only took a minute more before he signed off on the report, scribbled a note for the Gamma Shift team, then closed it down, turning to face the dark green-skinned woman across from him. Where the Republic’s executive officer seemed to be wearing a perpetual smile around him, Selu Levne’s face was impassive – cool and controlled – in keeping with the other half of her heritage.

“How did Doctor Pisani manage to rope you into all of this?” he asked, stopping short of an expletive at the end to punctuate his irritation at wasting time on something so frivolous as a birthday part.

“She merely asked, I volunteered my time,” Selu answered as if stating an obvious fact that he should have concluded by himself. “It was my suggestion to her in fact that we work together on our aspect of the surprise party due to our particular responsibilities.”

“What, that we’re both able to come up with reasons for why parts of the ship could be closed off to the rest of the crew?” he challenged.

She just stared at him, raised an eyebrow briefly, then nodded twice in the affirmative.

“Let’s get this over with then,” he said, shaking his head.

As he tapped at a control on his desk the windows facing out into Engineering frosted over and the wall-mounted screen he used as his personal ship-wide status monitor sprung to life, with Republic sliced by deck and showing a collection of them from above, highlighting possible spaces he’s already thought of.

“Your haste seems…you don’t enjoy birthday parties, do you?” Selu asked as she rose to her feet and approached the monitor at Evan’s side, her eyes scanning over the highlighted compartments.

“I don’t enjoy parties,” Evan grumbled. “Surprise parties doubly so.”

“May I suggest you at least give this one a decent try?” She reached forward and swiped a few of the deck plans off the screen. “To populated. Doctor Pisani’s plans of total secrecy would never last.”

“It’s a celebration for a pointless arbitrary date that only serves to remind someone they’re getting older,” he stated, expanding the surviving deck plans and their highlighted spaces to fill the screen. Then he smirked to himself, thinking he’d found an argument she’d agree with. “It’s an illogical waste of time and effort.”

“Illogical?” She repeated the single word, turning it into a question. But before he could answer she raised a single finger, much like a few school teachers he could recall and instantly felt like one of them had materialised in the room, wearing Selu’s face. “I take if your understanding of Vulcan culture is…shallow at best Lieutenant Commander?”

He just glared at her, squinting slightly.

“There is in fact much emphasis placed on birthdays,” Selu continued, her eyes returning to the wall-monitor while she continued. “A celebration of the year gone by, of lessons learned and triumphs held.” She selected two decks from the many, one in the saucer, the other in the engineering hull. “A chance to reflect with friends and family in consideration of the year ahead as well.”

“Friends and family,” he repeated. “Which we aren’t.”

“No, we’re crewmates. Which in my years I have discovered is a weird blend of both friends and family. And this party is a perfect opportunity to build further on these new bonds of camaraderie.” Selu then looked at him, that finger still raised, the lesson still being given. “And you’re forgetting something significant Lieutenant Commander.”

“What’s that?”

She smiled at him, that same self-assured and easy smile he associated with Commander Sadovu. The same smile he despised. “I’m also Orion.”

Like he could have forgotten that, what with her heritage indelibly inked upon her skin for the universe to see. But her manner was so un-Orion, so counter to the other example he had in his daily life that he tended to think of her as a green-skinned Vulcan rather than a child of both Vulcan and Orion.

“So?” he asked, seeking clarification.

“It means my mother would insist that any excuse for a party is a good one and birthdays doubly so,” she answered, her voice customarily quiet, but the blandness had been edged out by a trace of mirth. “And besides, I know you’re already aware that Crewman Sadovu-th’Ven is baking the cake. Since she started making limited selections of her baking available in the Agora recently, I’m expecting crew unrest when they find out she baked a cake and none of them got to enjoy it.”

The grumble from him was joined by a slight grumble from his stomach at the mere thought of the baking the young Romulan woman did. He’d been reluctant, downright hostile in fact, to her baking. But then Matt Lake had egged him into giving it a try and he had to admit Revin had talent.

But he thought in whole systems and Revin was inextricably tied into the pirate masquerading as an officer serving at the captain’s right hand. And that soured him immediately.

“So the party is a security risk then,” he muttered, seeking any excuse, no matter how flimsy, to try and scuttle proceedings.

“One I’m willing to entertain,” Selu answered. “I’m sure we’ll be able to avoid a full food riot.”

No more excuses, he knew there was no escaping this ridiculous party now. It was a social black hole he’d have to suffer to get out the other side. The least he could do now was make it as painless as he could. Which meant ensuring it succeeded so he wouldn’t have to deal with the irritation and disappointment he’d have flung his way if his part of the plan failed.

So he settled into debating the pros and cons of the two available spaces he and Selu had identified. It only took a few minutes to settle on the space closest to his own domain – a set of guest VIP quarters. Not as luxurious as those found in the primary hull, the saucer, but suitable for diplomatic staffers and the such.

A team of staffers even.

Plenty of room to throw a party. Easy enough to lock off from everyone else. As easy as simply locking the door, and denying access to any and all not approved. Both of them had tasks to do the bring about those minimal security concerns, but the primary effect they sought was merely the site’s somewhat remote location aboard the ship and the complete and total lack of visitors aboard the ship at the moment.

“Before you go, what did you learn from those Maquis twits before we handed them over?” He knew Selu had spoken to the New Maquis prisoners they had taken. That one of them had promised to spill the beans on the Commander.

Selu merely looked at him, an eyebrow raised.

“What did they have to say about Commander Sadovu?” he clarified. “Lieutenant,” he then added, emphasising her rank as compared to her own.

“Outside of what was already in her service record that I have clearance to see, nothing more than supposition and hearsay. Though they did mention a ship – the Vondem Thorn.”

He scoffed. “So the man was an idiot then too. Couldn’t even get the name of her so-called ship right, could he? Vondem Rose wasn’t it?”

“Correct,” Selu answered. “If there is nothing further Lieutenant Commander, I’d like to go and do my part to secure the quarters.”

He sighed, waved and then sighed again as he corrected himself with a proper and respectful dismissal to the security chief. “Vondem Thorn. Goddamn idiots,” he muttered as he circled his desk and plopped himself back into his seat. “Hmm…actually…who has it wrong? The pirate fools, or the Intelligence fools?” he asked an empty room, sinking into a proper brooding over the question.