Chapter 6
“Are you sure you don’t want to head on?” Shran gave him a curious look as he spoke,
“Nah, we said we wanted to see the sites. A school is a site.”
“I worry about your sanity sometimes pink-skin.” he told him blandly. “Besides there’s nothing to see, I’m just picking Jhe’lek and Erib up and bringing them to my house.”
“No honestly, it’s on the way anyway.”
“Well if you're sure.” Shran seemed confused as to why Archer and his crew were so eager to see the outside of an Andorian School, but Archer wanted to see how Shran was with children, although he’d never tell the Andorian that unless he had a death wish. He knew the others had similar feelings. It was a good thing that his sister had called to ask him to pick up the youngest two (the others were all sorted in one form or another apparently).
The Andorian School was two stories tall, circular, like all the buildings, with large windows overlooking the city. There was a playground with strange drawings on the ground in some places (Andorian hopscotch maybe) and some climbing frames and other things of the sort. There were many parents or other relatives waiting here. As they entered the playground a loud gong resounded through the school. There was silence again and then the unmistakable sound of a stampede of little feet. The door burst open and children seemed to just pour out. Shran raised his chin as he searched the crowd for the two children he was collecting. The children’s age range was from about three to about fourteen. As the immediate burst thinned Shran grinned, apparently spotting his niece and nephew.
“Erib! Jhe’lek!” he called, and his smile broadened as two small children headed straight for them. He crouched down with open arms and they barrelled into them, with such a force they nearly knocked him over. He laughed and they pulled away.
“What are you doing here Uncle Thy'lek?”
“I’m collecting you. Your mother isn’t able to. Work issues.” he explained simply as he stood up. The smaller of the two, a girl of about three, held her arms out and jumped impatiently. He bent over to pick her up and then groaned as he straightened up, setting the child on his hip. “I suppose neither of you have suffered for sleeping on the floor last night?”
“Nope!” the boy chirruped and then, in a sweetness that would have melted Ambassador Soval, he said, “Are you sore from it?”
“Only a little. I must be getting old.” Shran chuckled as he took the boy’s hand with his free one.
“You're not old Uncle Thy'lek. You're only 51. You’ve got over a hundred years to go at least.”
“Here’s hoping.” Shran said with a long suffering sigh.
“Besides, you're not old compared to Old Man Ghee.”
“Erib! You're absolutely right on that point. Then again, you know Old Man wants to set a new record for age.”
“He says he’s going to live to 300.”
“If we’re lucky.” Shran chuckled. “Oh! Sorry pink-skin, I forgot about you for a second. Erib, meet pink-skin.” The boy looked Archer up and down and then grinned at him in a way that was a twin for Shran’s own mischievous one.
“Nice to meet you pink-skin.” Erib said and stuck his hand out to him. Archer held it in his own and Erib tried to shake his arm off.
“Nice to meet you… Erib?” Archer glanced up at Shran who nodded. “For the record my name isn’t pink-skin.”
“I know. It’s Jonathon Archer.” Erib looked him over again. “I like pink-skin more.” Shran snorted and then pretended to find the roof of the cave fascinating as Archer looked at him. “Who’re the rest of you?” Each of them went through the ritual of having Erib, who was extremely strong for his size, try to shake their arms off. Jhe’lek was only just turned three and she hid her face in Shran’s shoulder with a giggle when Archer, with a large smile, shook her hand lightly. They walked through the city, Erib chattering away about his day. “-And then I told my story for the day and I told them all about the story you told us last night about the wild zabathu and how we played imaginary games for hours and we rode around on your back again and again between you and Uncle Senkrad tickle torturing each other and-”
“Erib! Take a breath.” Shran laughed, although Archer could have sworn he saw a faint blush in his cheeks. He dismissed it as a trick of the light. “Honestly, sometimes I wonder if you have an off button somewhere so I can let you take a break.”
“Nope! No off button.”
“Are you sure?” Shran grinned and, still holding Erib’s hand, he poked him in the nose that matched his own. Erib giggled and rubbed his nose and then grabbed Shran’s shirt and pulled him down and poked his nose back, giggling as he did. Shran wrinkled his nose and then growled playfully, throwing his arm around Erib and lifting him up, holding him against him, playfully rubbing his brow into the boy’s thick hair. Erib squealed and giggled in delight. Shran spun around on his feet, somehow expertly balanced (‘The antennas.’ Archer thought), making both children squeal with delight. “Can’t have Jhe’lek feeling left out, now can we?”
“No. We can't.” Erib shook his head vigorously. Shran laughed delightedly and kissed the top of his head. Jhe’lek whined and so Shran kissed her too. He then set Erib down on his feet and took his hand again as if nothing had happened. “Come on pink-skin! You're lagging behind.” Erib called, beckoning them forwards. They followed the hyper child’s orders. Archer was grinning. Soval was lucky to have Shran as a father, he could see that now and felt a little guilty for ever questioning it. They arrived at Shran’s home.
“Come in pink-skin. I may as well behave like a proper Andorian and adhere to custom. In!” Shran gestured them into the house as he set Jhe’lek down on the ground where she promptly pottered into a room that seemed to be overflowing with toys. Erib sat down at the counter and set his bag on the high stool beside his own. He pulled out a PADD and a stylus and began to do his homework. At least Archer assumed it was homework.
“What did you mean adhere to custom?”
“Andorian custom states that any guests received are to be provided with a meal and since we haven’t eaten in a good few hours I may as well make dinner.”
“Don’t trouble yourself for us.”
“Just sit down pink-skin.” Shran pointed, with a very sharp knife he’d just pulled out in the kitchen, at the couches. “I shouldn’t take too long.”
“Thanks.” Archer sat down and then took a better look around the room. Was it just him or was there something off about the house? It seemed as if there was something strange going on, a kind of tension in the air. And hadn’t Senkrad said he’d be staying here? Maybe he was in one of the other rooms. Shran moved about in the kitchen and then, wiping his now washed hands on a cloth he walked over to the door that lead to Senkrad’s bedroom.
“Sen, I’m making Elsyui. You want some minecta added?” he asked loudly as he pushed the door open, gaining two manly yelps.
“Uh… no, I’m good.” Senkrad stuttered.
“What about you Telk? Minecta spice?” Shran’s voice was completely casual, as if nothing usual was going on. A new voice spoke, also male.
“No, no. I’d better go. Just need to find my underwear-” Shran picked up something from by the edge of the door frame and tossed it to the voice. “-thank you!” the now muffled voice called.
“No problem.” Shran shut the door and shook his head, sighing as he walked back to the kitchen. Erib matched him, shaking his head and sighing heavily,
“Uncle Senkrad did it again.” Archer found it very amusing that the boy sounded like an adult, his tone serious and exasperated.
“Yes he did and Erib, you shouldn’t know about this sort of stuff yet.” Shran seemed more amused than angry as he regarded his nephew.
“Mama and Papa were talking about it. They always talk about that sort of thing and I always overhear them. They talked about Uncle Sen and Telk, and you and Talas, and Aunt Lissiel and… well whoever she’s with.” Erib shrugged but he seemed to have noticed how still Shran had gone, and how his antennas drooped sharply. Shran swallowed hard and then began to cut something up. Erib reached out and touched Shran’s hand, his own antennas falling in remorse. Shran looked at him and then smiled slightly.
“Go play with your sister, alright. I’ve a feeling you’ll be bored by the discussion that’s about to come.” Erib nodded and hopped off his stool and walked into the room, dutifully shutting the door. Shran’s antennas stayed drooped and his smile fell as he resumed his chopping. Archer shifted uncomfortably, unsure if he should say something. He was saved the need by Senkrad’s door opening and the man himself and another man emerging, looking distinctly rumpled.
“Well this was fun as always Senkrad.” the strange man said as he opened the front door. “Have to do it again.” He winked at Senkrad whose smile was strained. The man kissed him on the lips and then left. Shran shook his head again and continued chopping. Senkrad stared at the shut door for a minute and then wordlessly moaned and seemed to throw himself over to the high counter and he began to bang his head on it, punctuating the bangs with words.
“I- am- so- stupid!” Shran regarded his brother with a combination of amusement, pity and exasperation.
“Sen, that’s not good for your head.” he said, reaching out and pressing two fingers to the hairline of his brother’s head, he pushed him up to sit straight. “And neither is this pattern you’ve established with Telk.”
“I know! I don’t even understand what happened.” Senkrad rested his chin on folded arms on the counter, his antennas drooping slightly. “I was drawing quietly, doing nothing to harm anyone when he knocks on the door, saying he wants to talk.”
“And?”
“And… that’s all I remember! The next thing I know we’re on the bed.”
“He does know the route well by now.” Shran chuckled.
“Thy'lek! This is serious!”
“Well I’m sorry but this is the fifth time you’ve done this. You told me two days ago you weren’t seeing each other anymore.”
“I thought we weren’t!”
“Then why did I come into the house with him in your bedroom again?”
“I… I… I’m doomed.” Senkrad began banging his head again and Shran sighed. He moved away from the counter, holding a board covered in chopped vegetables, at least Archer thought they were vegetables. He disappeared out of Archer’s view but he could hear him pottering around in the kitchen. Senkrad stopped hitting his head and now rubbed it with his fingertips, muttering about a bruise likely to form. Shran snorted.
“What did you expect exactly. Oh and you might want to change your shirt unless you want Lissiel pestering you.” Senkrad looked at him in confusion and Shran sighed and reappeared and poked his brother in the neck. Senkrad let out a little yelp and then his face flushed vibrantly. He pressed his hand to his neck and then said pleading,
“Can you get me some ice?”
“Sure.” Shran disappeared and then reappeared with ice in his hand. Senkrad took it and held it to his neck. “If Lissiel finds out-”
“I’ll never hear the end of it.” Senkrad finished. “I know, I know.” he sighed and then seemed to notice Archer and the others. “Oh hello again Captain.” He spoke as if the conversation with his brother hadn’t happened.
“Hi.” Archer nodded to him, trying to hide his amusement. He’d been enjoying that conversation. It’d been entertaining.
“Hoshi, Travis, Trip, Malcolm.” Senkrad greeted with a nod of his own. They smiled at him. Suddenly he raised an eyebrow “Um Captain. I think you're sitting on my notepad.” Archer stood up at once and found what he’d thought was a thin cushion of silk was actually a pad of parchment that was wrapped in silk. He picked it up and gave it to Senkrad as he apologised. “No harm done.” Senkrad smiled at him, and Archer was suddenly struck again, not by the similarities between the brothers but by the differences. Senkrad smiled more and his smile lit up his eyes very brightly. Shran’s smiles didn’t always reach his eyes at all. Senkrad was clearly easy going and calm. Shran seemed more tense and there was a strange gleam in his eyes sometimes that Archer had seen as they went through the city. The only time it had disappeared completely was when he’d been with the children.
“So who’ve we got in the playroom? And we need to redo it soon, we haven’t done it up since… well since we became neuters.” Senkrad asked, looking at Shran, who returned to the counter and leaned against it.
“Jhe’lek and Erib and no! I like the playroom the way it is.”
“You always said that when we started redoing it and then you always said you liked it even more when it was finished.”
“When I was ten and under Sen, everyone changes their minds then. I haven’t once wanted to change that room since I turned neuter.” Senkrad sighed and propped his head in his hand,
“Well Lissiel and I think it’s time to change it. I’ve been itching to do some new designs on the walls, the zabathu are beginning to fade.”
“You can’t get rid of the zabathu!” Shran looked like he was going to start pouting, he really did. “I’ve told every single one of our nieces, nephews and younger cousins their story and names. We can't get rid of them.”
“Well we’ll see.” Senkrad sighed again, apparently knowing better than to pursue the matter. Shran disappeared again and there were sounds of him moving around in the kitchen. Senkrad shook his head and stood up, wandered over to the middle of the room and sat down beside Hoshi. He still held the ice to his neck but Archer, who sat opposite him, could see a dark blue bruise on his neck. “So did you see anything you liked?”
“Well your brother took us to the city centre and we saw all the shops, and I think there’s a good few things I’d like to buy for people back home.”
“And the rest of you?”
“Yeah. I saw this dress that I’m fairly sure my sister will love me for.” Malcolm said. He’d been examining the dress when they’d taken a peek in one of the many clothes shops at Hoshi’s request.
“She’d better!” Shran called, “It’s that dress made by the man himself The’nack Jalil.”
“By hand?” Senkrad’s eyes were wide.
“Indeed.”
“Spirits! You must have a lot of money on you. That’ll cost a small city to buy.”
“It will?” Malcolm squeaked.
“Of course Master The’nack Jalil is the top designer on Andoria. His designs are the most desired kind of formal clothing you could want. They’re gorgeous. The silk’s made from the best ice bores. You get your hands on something like that you’d better never let it go.” Shran reappeared, looking highly amused at his brother’s serious tone.
“Sen… it’s not that big of a deal. It’s just a formal outfit.”
“Just a formal outfit!” Senkrad actually leapt to his feet and put his hands on his hips. “It’s a collectable!” Shran crossed his arms and shook his head.
“Senkrad, I’m not going to argue with you about this again.”
“I guess you can't appreciate a beautiful thing when you see it.” Senkrad grumbled, folding his arms. Shran’s eyes narrowed, and his voice lost some of its warmth,
“I’m going to ignore that statement since I know that you're still upset over Telk. Rest assured my brother I know beauty when I see it, but I shall never see what makes The’nack Jalil’s work any better than the work the others do.” He then went back into the kitchen. Senkrad looked guilty and then shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. He sat down again beside Hoshi, who shifted uncomfortably.
“Did you see the museum?” he asked quietly.
“Yes. We’re thinking of going there tomorrow.”
“You’ll probably enjoy the section on our space programme. It’s fairly large. But I’d avoid the section called the Eternal Ones, if you’re not very comfortable being around bodies.”
“The Eternal Ones?”
“Bodies found perfectly preserved in the ice. There’s hundreds of them in the museum. Some date back to the time pre modern Andorian, as in they are the ones that were before Andorians took the form we have now.” As Senkrad spoke he kept his voice down, glancing at the kitchen as he did. Archer guessed this was not a topic Shran liked.
“Sounds creepy.” Trip muttered,
“It is. I went to the museum when I was seven and Thy'lek was five and we snuck in. Our parents didn’t need to look for us because we were screaming so loud.” Senkrad shuddered slightly and then sat back. Archer tried to imagine that but found that he couldn’t, mainly because he couldn’t picture the two Andorians as children. Suddenly the playroom door flew open and Jhe’lek ran out screaming with Erib chasing her, brandishing a Usshan-tor.
“I’ll cut out your innards and wear them as a belt!” he cried as Jhe’lek flew into the kitchen.
“Erib!” Shran barked and the screaming stopped. “What are you doing!”
“I was just playing Uncle Thy'lek.” Erib explained, sounding a little scared and confused, “I’m Hecril Demaldus!” Senkrad sighed and shook his head. Shran spoke again,
“Erib, Hecril Demaldus was an evil monster. Why in the world would you want to be him?”
“I just thought it’d be fun.” Shran walked out of the kitchen, Jhe’lek on his hip and a subdued Erib at his side.
“Erib, Jhe’lek is only three, you can’t chase her around with a Usshan-tor, she’s not old enough to play with them. You could really hurt her.” Shran scolded patiently. Erib shuffled his feet and pulled at his shirt as he looked up at his uncle. He looked very sweet but Shran didn’t give an inch, his antennas rearing up in a fatherly way and his face making it clear he wanted Erib to apologise.
“’M sorry Uncle Thy'lek. ‘m sorry Jhe’lek.” he muttered, head down. Shran smiled at him and crouched down so Erib could hug him.
“Alright, now wait until you get home to play with your Usshan-tor. Why don’t you help me set the table, dinner’s about to be served.” Erib beamed and nodded. Jhe’lek suddenly whacked Erib on the head.
“BAD!” she shouted, “BAD ERIB!”
“Ow.” Erib rubbed his brow. Shran sigh and set Jhe’lek down.
“Bad Jhe’lek too.” he said as he straightened up. She whinged and pulled at his trousers but he just stared down at her. She whinged louder, tugging at his trousers in earnest.
“Uncle Lek!” she exclaimed. “Lek!” Shran crossed his arms and said nothing, and she stamped her foot. “Up Lek! Up!” Shran shook his head and she sat down on the ground and began to hit the ground, her face going a darker shade of blue. She glared up at Shran and hit the ground with her little fists. Erib looked decidedly uncomfortable and he backed away. Shran and Jhe’lek were now staring each other down. Stubborn against stubborn it seemed. Archer watched with great interest. It occurred to him (although he knew very little about babies) that Jhe’lek was behaving like she was two, not three. He guessed that Andorian children didn’t grow as quickly as human children did. Jhe’lek snapped,
“UP! UP!”
“No.” Shran said firmly, “No up, until you say sorry to Erib.”
“Erib bad!”
“No. Erib not bad. Say sorry.”
“This could take a while.” Senkrad said lightly. “Jhe’lek’s got Sakrana’s stubbornness.”
“I’d have thought she had Shran’s stubbornness.” Archer admitted, grinning as the Guardsman and the toddler continued their staring contest.
“He and Sak are as stubborn as each other, so it’s really the same.” Senkrad chuckled. Shran suddenly shifted. He shrugged carelessly,
“You won’t say sorry Jhe’lek?”
“No!”
“Oh well, then no up.” Shran headed back towards the kitchen, turning his back to Jhe’lek, whose lower lip began to tremble. She whinged and began to crawl after him, calling “Lek!” pitifully. Shran ignored her and busied himself with rummaging through a cupboard. Jhe’lek seemed to know she wouldn’t win. She crawled over to Erib, pushed herself to her feet and then reached out and patted his shoulder. “Sorry.” she said bluntly. Erib nodded. Jhe’lek then walked in that slightly unsteady way of a toddler, and stopped behind Shran who looked over his shoulder at her. She held her arms up and she made grabbing motions with her fingers. Shran smiled and picked her up. He held her in his arms and rubbed his brow into her hair and she giggled, throwing her arms around his neck. “Alright now, you’re going to strangle me!” Shran chuckled. “Come on Erib, help me set the table. Jhe’lek, you want to sit in Senkrad’s lap?” She nodded and Erib ran over and put his Usshan-tor in Senkrad’s lap and Shran passed him Jhe’lek who rested her head on her uncle’s shoulder. Erib ran into the kitchen and he could be heard opening a drawer and fiddling inside it due to the rattling of metal. Shran pulled out some long necked bottles from a cupboard on the other side of the counter and wandered into a room through a door closest to the front door on the left. Erib came running through, clutching what looked like loads of metal chopsticks in his pudgy hands. He disappered into the room after Shran and they could hear the two talking softly. Senkrad smiled to himself.
“He’ll make a great father to Soval.”
“Yeah I think he will.” Archer agreed softly. A strange look passed over Trip’s face but it was gone before Archer was sure what it was.
“He’s the best out of the five of us with children. Sanakral and Sakrana are jealous of his ability to control their children with an ease they’ve never had. It’s fun to watch the difference actually.” he chuckled. “Sak and San run themselves ragged and then Thy'lek comes along and the children instantly obey him.”
“How does he do it?”
“I’m not completely sure. Sometimes he’s strict like a parent and other times he immerses himself in their games. I’m not sure how he knows exactly when and how to behave but they always respond to him.” Archer grinned, imagining it quite clearly. “I’ll just see if he needs a hand. Would one of you hold Jhe’lek?”
“I will.” Hoshi offered, holding her hands out. Senkrad smiled at her gratefully and passed the child to her. Hoshi settled Jhe’lek in her lap and smiled down at her as the baby stared up at her in confusion. “Hello there.” Hoshi smiled at her and she smiled back. Then she reached out and grabbed a lock of Hoshi’s loose hair, giving it a tug. “Ow.” Hoshi winced and then tried to get the child to let go. “Ok, come on let go.” She pulled at the little hand with her fingers but the child refused to let go, she just tugged on it harder. “Ow!” Hoshi winced again and tried harder to get the baby to let go. Malcolm chuckled and tried to help her, frowning very slightly as he realised how unsuccessful he was being.
“She’s got a grip on you.”
“No argument from me.”
“It’s natural for Andorians apparently. From birth they can support their own weight, clinging onto the clothes of their parents.” Archer said, grinning at the blue child. Shran came out and he looked around the room, frowning as he did.
“Sen!” he called.
“What?”
“Where’s the high chair for Jhe’lek?”
“In the playroom.” His face changing to confused, he turned in the middle of the room to look at the door he exited.
“Why’s it in the playroom?”
“Lissiel moved it there.”
“Why did she move it there?”
“She had people over.”
“When did she have people over?”
“About six days ago.” Shran frowned even more confusedly.
“Where was I? I don’t remember her having people over six days ago.”
“I’d should say so, you went out that night and didn’t come home till morning.” Senkrad stuck his head around the door with a wide, mischievous grin on his face. “You stayed with Telev remember?” Shran’s cheeks flushed slightly and he shifted on his feet.
“Oh right.” he muttered and walked into the playroom quickly as if to escape. Senkrad came out of the presumed dining room and rested his forearm on the doorframe.
“You know you never told me what went on between you that night.” Shran came back out carrying a high chair.
“There’s nothing to tell. I don’t even remember anything until the morning.”
“And were you fully clothed or what?” Archer fought a grin as Shran sighed and then said sarcastically
“No actually, we weren’t wearing any shoes. How incriminating.” he rolled his eyes and pushed past his brother. “Honestly Sen, why is it always with Telev you get like this?”
“Because you and Telev are like me and Telk.” Shran gave a sharp laugh as he came back out and looked his brother square in the eye.
“Telev and I are nothing like you and Telk. We have the occasional one nighters and we’re friends. You and Telk, you go through a drama of misery every single time you get together for these month long relationships. Honestly I’m beginning to think you're a sadist.” He walked back towards the kitchen. “Do any of you put up with this kind of questioning from your siblings?” he asked the humans who suddenly stopped laughing under their breaths in amusement.
“I don’t have any siblings.” Archer said with a shrug. Shran froze and so did Senkrad.
“Me either.” Hoshi said.
“None at all?” Senkrad exclaimed. Both shook their heads. “What about the rest of you?”
“I’ve got a sister.” Malcolm said.
“I’ve got one brother and a sister.” Travis offered.
“I had two siblings.” Trip said, softer than the rest. Shran gave him a brief glance and then shared an incredulous look with Senkrad.
“And I thought we were bad with the six of us.” he said shaking his head as he wandered into the kitchen.
“Me too. How many children does a family usually have with Humans?” Senkrad stared at them in fascination.
“Between one and three really. More sometimes but anything above five is considered a little unusual.” Senkrad’s eyes widened in amazement.
“You're not like the Vulcans are you?” he asked in an almost hushed whisper. “Only having sex every seven years?” The bluntness of the question made them a little uncomfortable.
“No, we uh, we don’t do that, we’ve no, erm… schedule when it comes to… that.”
“Then how do you have so few children?”
“Birth control mainly.” Senkrad frowned in utter confusion and Shran didn’t seem any more clued in, although he was busy with dinner so it was clear his concentration was divided.
“What’s birth control?” Senkrad asked, looking genuinely confused.
“It’s where conception is… well prevented.”
“But I don’t… Thy'lek do you understand this?” Senkrad looked at his brother who was dishing out some sort of liquid into bowls. He set down the jug that he poured the liquid from. A delicious smell tingled Archer’s nose and his mouth began to water as he realised how hungry he was. Shran looked at his brother with full attention.
“I don’t think they have neuters Sen. I think that they are like the Vulcans in that aspect.”
“What? One puberty?”
“Yes.” Shran nodded and then said, smiling in amusement. “I think we ought to change the subject. I’ve a feeling this isn’t something that our guests want to talk about.”
“Oh. Sorry. I guess we’re just used to it.” Senkrad apologised, and even bowed a little to them.
“Hey it’s fine… I mean if this is the norm for you…” Archer shrugged, trying to avoid the topic, but not offend the hosts.
“Well Thy'lek has said not every species is as open as we are about… that kind of thing.” Senkrad seemed very embarrassed. Shran seemed entertained. He carried the bowls into the dining room while Senkrad shifted on his feet.
“It’s ok, you, uh, shouldn’t act any differently on account of us.” Shran poked his head around the door and he opened his mouth to say something, then said nothing. Instead he seemed to be waiting.
“What?” Senkrad asked frowning at his younger brother.
“I should be telling you that dinner’s ready… but to be honest I’m much more interested in seeing where this awkwardness will lead to.” Shran grinned wickedly and leaned against the doorframe with his shoulder. Senkrad rolled his eyes and walked over and physically pushed Shran back into the room before asking Archer and the others to come in. Hoshi carried Jhe’lek in and Shran, still grinning broadly took her from her, getting her to let go of Hoshi’s hair. “Now my lady.” he said to his niece, setting her into the seat and then sitting beside it. Erib sat on his other side. Senkrad sat beside him.
“Please sit down Captain… there’s no particular order.”
“Thanks, and it’s Jon Senkrad, please.”
“What? Don’t I get that privilege too?” Shran grinned, teasing him with obvious enjoyment.
“Well considering you more than often just call me pink-skin, I can’t see the point.” Archer chuckled as he sat between Hoshi and Trip at the round table. The metal was a purple colour upon first glance, but as one turned this way and that it changed hues, a little like gasoline puddles, with all the metallic colours. The chair’s were straight backed and only slightly cushioned, but comfortable. The deep bowls of light brown liquid were steaming slightly, and the smell reminded him of a bakery. Shran snorted,
“It’s the principal of the thing… pink-skin.” Archer chuckled and shook his head. He’d never win with the Andorian. Ever. Shran and the other Andorian’s picked up their bowls (Jhe’lek seemed to have a kind of metal sippy cup) and sipped from them. Not seeing any spoons, the guests followed their actions. As he tasted the broth, or whatever it was, he was overwhelmed by the delicious taste. It was rather like warm, fresh bread, but tasted… natural, not manufactured. He couldn’t explain it, but he definitely liked it. He set down the bowl, half empty, making a noise of enjoyment.
“Damn, that’s good.” Trip said, licking his lips. “What is that?”
“It’s Elsyui, it’s a vegetable drink. It wets the appetite as you say, for the main meal.”
“Well it’s delicious. Tastes like fresh bread, straight out of the oven.” Archer praised. “Maybe you could give Chef the recipe.”
“Well, it’s just pressed Elsyui. Easy to make.”
“What’s bread?” asked Erib. Shran’s face turned thoughtful,
“Isn’t that that brown thing with a soft white centre?”
“Yeah, that’s the stuff.”
“I knew it reminded me of something.” the Guardsman muttered, “I just couldn’t place it.”
“Interesting how a vegetable can taste like a man-made product on another world.” Malcolm said, before blushing, as he realised how silly that comment sounded.
“It’s true enough. I’ve often found that.” Shran agreed. He drained his bowl and then wiped Jhe’lek’s face. She had dribbled some of the drink down her chin and it was rolling under it to her neckline as Shran caught it with a cloth. She let out a squawk of protest and tried to escape but Shran persisted until her face was clean. “I’m sorry Jhe’lek, but I’m not going to wait for that to dry on you. You’ll make even more of a fuss.” He was soft spoken, but firm. Archer watched him with fascination and found himself comparing him to T’Pol. Whereas his first officer was a little awkward, and uncertain with what she did, Shran looked like he’d been doing this sort of thing all his life and it came naturally to him. Erib set his bowl down and declared he was finished.
“You are not.” Senkrad told him. “We still have to eat the main course.”
“Aw, but I want to play.”
“You can play if you eat everything off your plate.” Shran told him as he stood up and picked up his, Senkrad and Erib’s bowls and Jhe’lek’s sippy cup. “Are you done pink-skin?”
“Uh…” Archer drained his bowl and held it out, “I am now.” Shran chuckled and took the bowl from him. The others drained their bowls and handed them to the Andorian who stacked and balanced them expertly in his hands and walked out. Erib burped and then giggled. Jhe’lek giggled too and then banged her hand on the tray of her high chair. It almost seemed like she was demanding her dinner. Senkrad seemed to think along the same lines because he said
“You, young lady, are as impatient as your aunt Lissiel.”
“Senkrad! Don’t exaggerate.” Shran called from the kitchen. How the heck had he heard that? “No one is as impatient as our sister.” Senkrad chuckled and shook his head. Apparently he was very used to Shran and his sister taking hits at each other.
“If you say so Thy'lek… although considering you’ve made it your personal mission to try her patience, I’m not sure how much your perspective on that subject can be taken as fact.”
“I do nothing of the kind to her.” Shran called back. Archer could actually hear the smirk in his voice. “She just likes to pick on me. Always has Sen. You know that.”
“I do, considering I was usually enduring the same things as you.”
“True enough.” Erib giggled, covering his mouth with his hand, his antennas squirming on his head.
“I like hearing all the stories about the things you and uncle Thy'lek did when you were little.” he said, “Especially the one about the ghost.”
“Gah!” Senkrad grimaced, just like Shran had earlier that day. “I can’t believe you didn’t have nightmares about it. You must be made of sterner stuff than us.”
“He’d have to be if Sakrana’s his mother. Goodness knows what those children go through.” Shran chuckled as he returned with plates. He set them down before Archer, Hoshi and Trip and then left to get more.
“You know, I’m beginning to think it’s maybe not the best thing for you to make fun of a child’s parent in front of the child.” Senkrad called, and then turned his attention to Jhe’lek who let out a squeal and then exclaimed
“HUNGY!”
“Just hang on Jhe’lek, there’s only one Uncle Thy'lek and since I’m banned from the kitchen it’ll take him a minute.”
“Why are you banned from the kitchen if I may ask?” Malcolm spoke up curiously. Senkrad chuckled.
“Thy'lek doesn’t trust me not to hurt myself accidentally in the kitchen.”
“With good reason.” Shran pointed out as he came back with another three plates. He then had to leave to get the final few. Senkrad rolled his eyes and shook his head, smiling fondly. Archer chuckled, and then looked down at the plate and noted with a slightly nauseous feeling that the meat was blue. Stuffed tuber vegetables and a variety of meats made up the barely cooked meal. Glancing to the top of his place he saw his cutlery was a pair of metal chopsticks that looked extremely sharp. He picked them up and stared at them questioningly, unsure how he was meant to use them. Senkrad coughed lightly and held up his own. He held them like chopsticks in one hand. Archer nodded in thanks. Shran returned with the last plates and sat beside Erib and Jhe’lek again. Senkrad began to eat first, digging in eagerly.
“Mmm! This is what I miss when you go out there.” he declared. “You're the only one of the three of us still living in this house who can cook.” Erib made a noise of agreement and he too munched happily, stabbing the food with his ‘chopsticks’ and pulling it into his mouth. Copying the boy the guests first warily and then eagerly ate their meal.
“How’s earth coming along with the issue of the Coalition?” Senkrad asked curiously. Erib pulled a face that made it quite clear he found this topic extremely boring already.
‘Kid, you’ve no idea.’ Archer thought wryly to himself as he answered,
“We’re trying to repair the damage but, it’ll probably take years before we can try again.”
“At least with all those species. Not all relations were damaged.” Shran said with a shrug. “We’re still making our alliance official with you and the Vulcans aren’t going anywhere. Give me a couple more months with Gral and you’ll have the Tellerites too. That’s the four central planets in this sector.”
“True enough.”
“In my opinion you started too big. Such a large scaled alliance, between species that have been at war with each other, suggested by a species who’ve really been involved in interstellar politics only five years.” Senkrad shook his head. “A little too ambitious.”
“That was Samuels’ motto. Ambitious goals, ambitious results.”
“Maybe but there’s ambitious and there’s unobtainable.”
“It would have gone through if it hadn’t been for Terra Prime!” Trip spat. Shran’s antennas stiffened slightly and he looked at the Chief Engineer carefully. Senkrad didn’t really react to the tone.
“I believe that something would have happened to stop it. If the faction hadn’t been the ones to interfere, then something else would have come up. The Coridians would have demanded compensation from the Vulcans, the Tellerites would have picked a fight with Ambassador Thoris, who hates the Tellerites, I don’t even know why they sent him.”
“Because they refused to let me go on the grounds that I wasn’t ready to return to space.” Shran said, his tone was forcibly light. It was clear he had not appreciated that comment.
“Ridiculous.” Senkrad shook his head. “You did all the work to even get us invited to that Coalition. Why in the seas of hell should you not get to complete the work and get due credit?”
“It’s not about credit Sen. It’s about looking out for Andoria.”
“Which you’ve done more than half your life.” Senkrad grumbled. It seemed that this was a sore spot between the brothers.
“So?” Shran shrugged, “People have lost their lives for it. I just willingly gave some of my life.”
“Thy'lek-”
“Soval says that there are new talks going on, to try again.” Shran ignored his brother and focused on Archer, “He won’t tell me what the plan is though. He says it’s better to wait until my government tells me. In other words he’s getting back at me for trying to get him drunk.” He stabbed his food with a little more energy than before. He seemed to be sulking.
“You tried to get Soval drunk?” Archer repeated bewilderedly, convinced he had misheard him.
“Yes. But it didn’t work. His resistance is higher than I expected. I was so close too!” Shran smirked slightly, “A few more and that stiff backed old Vulcan would have been singing along with Gral.”
“Gral?!” Now Shran grinned wickedly,
“Now him I did get drunk, with highly entertaining results.”
“Oh do tell.”
“Oh I don’t know… Gral might not like that.” Shran smirked
“Ah come on, you can’t just dangle a hook like that.” The three Andorian males all frowned in confusion. Erib got there first.
“What’s that mean?”
“It means you can’t bait us and not tell us the rest. Come on!” Archer leaned forward eagerly. “What happened?” Shran stared at him shrewdly and then grinned, setting down his ‘chopsticks’.
“Alright. Picture this if you can. Gral in a fairly rowdy bar. He’s completely drunk, and that makes him talkative and louder than ever. Suddenly he gets the idea that he wants to stand on the table. He insists that I help him up. I tried to talk him out of it-”
“I’m sure.”
“-but he eventually got some others to help him up. So he’s standing on the table and then begins to sing.”
“What did he sing?”
“A Klingon Drinking Song.”
“I wonder where he learned that.” Senkrad muttered, fighting a smile. Shran pulled a very unconvincing innocent face.
“I’ve no idea.”
“No, because you certainly don’t come home from being out most of the night, drunk yourself singing such songs.” Senkrad said with a smirk, reinforcing Archer’s now deep-seated belief that the smirk was genetic. Shran definitely blushed at this comment, it was no trick of the light.
“I don’t always sing Klingon songs.”
“Oh no?”
“No. Sometimes I sing Betazoid ones.” Shran smirked back at his brother and stood up, his plate empty. He took Jhe’lek’s, Senkrad’s and Erib’s. “Alright Erib, you can go play.”
“I’ll free Jhe’lek.” Senkrad offered, rising and lifting the girl out of her chair and setting her on her feet.
“Clean her face, will you Sen? She’s covered in food.”
“Just how much actually went in her mouth?”
“Only a portion of the amount that’s down her front, but more than what went in her hair.”
“You don’t need a wipe young lady. You need a bath.” At once Jhe’lek ran off. Shran sighed.
“Well, can’t say I blame her.”
“Me either.” Senkrad agreed, “I mean, what child wants to be submerged in water.” Both Andorian adults rolled their eyes. Erib shuddered and then bolted after his sister. “I’ll get her, you clear up.” Shran nodded and cleared the table, saying as he did,
“Why don’t you move into the main room again pink-skin, I won’t be long.” He then noticed Archer was staring at him. “What?”
“I’m sincerely beginning to wonder if we really are in our reality.” Archer admitted. Shran straightened up and smirked,
“Well I could challenge you to another Usshan match. Would that prove it?”
“Erm… I’m sure we don’t need to be so extreme.” Shran snorted,
“Coward.” he smirked and walked out. Archer sighed and shook his head,
“That was proof enough.”