POST SPOTLIGHT – USS Alexander

A life in Starfleet is anything but normal. Weird is part of the job, after all. But despite the distance from Sol, unexplained anomalies, strange new species and the occasional temporal rift, one thing hasn’t changed – the family dynamic. No matter what strange new world a Starfleet officer finds during his day job, they still return home to the same challenges we all face. Keeping the family together.

You can find out more here at USS Alexander.


Dinner a la Sepandiyar

Posted on 26 Jun 2020 @ 2:08am by Admiral Zavareh Sepandiyar & Cadet Junior Grade Cyrus Sepandiyar
Location: Captain’s Quarters – USS Alexander
Timeline: MD1 – 1830HRS
Tags: 2,174 Words – 4 Posts
2221 words – 4.4 OF Standard Post Measure

.: Captain’s Quarters – USS Alexander:.

The spoon clattered onto the table, ringing loudly across the relatively small room, followed by a muffled oath. Jamshid set the plate he was holding down quickly and stopped the spoon from continuing to rattle around and then placed it against the plate of rice. Across the table, his brother Arash put the large porcelain bowl of stew down. The last of the three brothers, Roham, was filling glasses with water as their father joined them, but not as the rest of the ship regularly saw him. Outside the doors to their shared quarters he was Admiral Sepandiyar, Commanding Officer and Fleet Admiral. But inside this room, he was just another man trying to raise his sons; the three he had left that is.

Zavareh had five sons, all counted. Two had left the nest and were living their own lives now. His eldest, Arsalon, had a wife of his own now and together they lived and served on the USS Atlantic. His second eldest, Cyrus was only just hitting his stride at Starfleet Academy back on Earth, studying life sciences. It wasn’t really Zavareh’s cup of tea, but if that’s what Cyrus wanted to do with his life that was up to him to choose. He loved his sons too much to micromanage to that degree.

He picked up the plates off the side table and handed them to Roham, who started to put them at their places while he sat down at the head of the table, waving for his boys to join him. This was their nightly ritual. Once the Alpha shift was over, it was back to quarters for meal prep. Time that Pouri used to spend with her boys cooking their meals but with her gone, that task had fallen to Zavareh. He certainly wasn’t the cook she was, but he wasn’t bad. Roham was better at it, but the twins could hold their own too. Zavareh secretly hoped they’d master it so that, when it was their time to have a family, they could carry on the tradition.

The Alexander was still docked at 99, so there was the whole station worth of restaurants and shops that they could have had dinner at, but he had insisted that they keep their tradition. It was one of the few times he could spend with his boys uninterrupted by something else and at this point all three of them remaining knew that and knew that they were stuck at that table until he released them. Sitting there watching his boys take their seats, Zavareh offered the closest thing to a smile that crossed his lips and then gestured for them to start.

There was silence as everyone prepared their plates, then the scrape of silverware as everyone tucked in, “Baba,” Jamshid asked, swallowing his bite. Zavareh turned his eyes up to him. “Do you think we could get a few things from the Promenade before we go?” He asked.

“Something in particular you’d like?” Zavareh asked curiously.

“I believe she works at the g-,” Roham started, but Jamshid punched his shoulder.

“Bah!” Sep barked, “Not at the table,” he warned them.

“Sorry, Baba,” they chorused, looking to each other mutinously and then returning to their plates.

“Jamshid. You were saying?” Sep pressed the boy. His brothers smirked and he blushed, but continued, “Just… some souvenirs,” he managed. “We don’t… we don’t do that much. Never really have the chance to,” he frowned, turning back to his plate.

Zavareh put a bite in his mouth and sat there, chewing pensively for a long moment, “I thought…” he said, pausing to sip some water, “That the night before we left, we might all four eat at one of the restaurants on the Promenade,” he declared to three faces of delight.

“Maggiano’s!”

“Pike’s Pizza!”

“No, the Bajoran place!! Have you smelled that stuff… oh man!”

The three boys soon erupted with excitement, trying to convince one another to go to whatever restaurant that they wanted most but neither agreeing with the other. Zavareh just smirked, eating his dinner. He wished he’d had this when he was growing up; brothers and sisters who he could share his life with, share experiences with and just be a family. He’d tried so hard for so many years to impress his own parents and receive in a little bit of love from them all to no avail. He was no more to them than a painting they’d bought at an auction. Its was one of the reasons he poured so much energy into making sure his sons had that in spades. They saw it as their father being overbearing but he knew that they would remember it fondly in time. He didn’t want them to have the same relationship he had with his parents; so close that he didn’t even know if they were still alive. He’d long ago given up on trying to keep up with them. That was a two-way street that they long ago abandoned.

“What about,” Zavareh cut in, silencing the three of them almost immediately. “The Hoof and Horn?”

“Really?” All three replied in awe. Hoof and Horn was one of the ritzier places on the Promenade and one of the one’s that took latinum, and a lot of it, to eat there.

He shrugged, preparing a bite of stew on rice, “It’s been a while since we’ve done something like that. Unless you boys would really rather Pizza.”

“No!”

“We can get pizza anytime!”

“Can we really go!?”

Zavareh ate his bite, smirking still, and nodded. The three of them erupted with excitement again and the table returned to the conversation of before only now discussing what they were going to get and how amazing it was going to taste. Suddenly every rumor they’d ever heard about the place was being discussed and the three seemed determined to one-up each other.

Just as Jamshid was explaining the story he’d heard about the prehistoric rib-plate that they served there, the door chime rang. Zavareh looked to it, frowning.

“Roham,” he said, cocking his head towards the door. “If it’s one of your friends. Explain to them the rules.”

“Yes, Baba,” he said, putting his napkin down and getting up to go and get the door.

Roham walked over and pressed the button to open the door to their quarters and was met by a dark-haired, dark-skinned man in a blue Starfleet Cadet’s uniform. They looked at each other for a moment and then both grinned, the younger man surging forward to hug the other excitedly.

“Baba! It’s Cyrus!” Roham called out.

Zavareh got up from his chair quickly and turned to the door to see his second eldest son standing there, bag in hand, smiling.

“What are you doing here?” Zavareh asked quickly, coming over to hug his son. “It’s good to see you,” he added; a truthful afterthought.

Cyrus held his seabag up, “Academy transfer,” he replied. “I’m assigned here,”

“What?” Zavareh asked, surprised. Cyrus fished in his bag for the orders and offered them to his father who read them quickly, shaking his head, “You changed to Medical?”

“Yes,” he replied, “We had a guest lecturer who came into our biology course. Just… convinced me that medical was where I really wanted to go. I actually specifically asked to transfer aboard that Doctor’s ship, but I was sent here instead,” he smiled.

Zavareh looked at the orders and then gave them back, “We’re just eating. Come, have a plate,” he said, drawing his eldest son to the table. Jamshid had already grabbed another plate and was pulling a chair to the table. Arash poured the water and set the silverware.

“Thanks,” Cyrus grinned, sitting at the head of the table opposite his father. They all returned to their plates, excited to see their brother. “So… anything exciting here?” He asked as he spooned some rice onto his plate.

“We’re going to dinner at the Hoof and Horn!” Jamshid gushed immediately.

“Can… Cyrus come too?” Arash asked.

“If Cadet Sepandiyar doesn’t mind being seen with us,” he smirked.

He chuckled, “Of course not,” he replied, “I’m just worried that the CMO is going to go easy on me because… we’re related.”

Zavareh let out a short snort of laughter, “Doctor Pembroke? No. He’s tried to move heaven and earth to get the Cadets removed from this cruise. I don’t suspect you’re going to have an easy time of it, Cyrus. He’s a brilliant Doctor, but a very large pain in the ass.”

The three boys snorted with surprise. Zavareh didn’t swear much, and by much, at all. So to hear him speak that way was about as rare as seeing a Unicorn. They all smirked to one another and to Cyrus.

“So….” Arash said dramatically, looking to Cyrus. “Tell us about Alice,” he grinned.

Cyrus, a bite halfway to his mouth, turned a shade of red to match a command uniform while his brothers laughed. Zavareh swallowed his bite and shook his head, “Who is Alice?” He asked.

“Oh, she’s uh,” Cyrus started.

“His girlfriend,” Arash clarified. Cyrus glared at him to shut up, but he just grinned wickedly. “Ooo.. mon cherie…” he cooed playfully.

“Shut it!” Cyrus hissed.

“Why’s it so embarrassing for your father to know you have a girlfriend?” Zavareh asked, looking sternly across the table. “Are you embarrassed of me?”

“No,” Cyrus replied quickly. “It’s just…”

“Just what?” He pressed. “Is there something about her you are ashamed of?”

“Well, no, it’s not that,” he stammered in answer, his bite on the fork just hovering there.

“Is she on board?” He pressed. Cyrus blushed even more. “I see,” Zavareh nodded, setting his napkin on the table. “So, the truth comes out… you are not here because you were transferred here. You’re here because your girlfriend was, and you elected to follow.” The look on his face told him that he was spot on to the truth. Zavareh just shook his head.

“We weren’t supposed to get transferred here, Baba. She was slated for 99, and so I thought it’d be perfect. Get to be with her, and be at the closest station to all of you. Arasalon’s ship is in this sector too.”

“But instead you’re here. I assume she knows who I am?” He asked.

“I mean… I told her you were in Starfleet…”

The other three boys were staring resolutely at their plates, like Cyrus, realizing how far down the hole he’d gone. There wasn’t a lot of crawling out options now. It was just a matter of taking the licks and hoping you walked away unscathed.

“I see,” Zavareh answered. All four of them winced, knowing that answer was tantamount to him yelling. “Tell me about this Doctor who lectured your class, convincing you to transfer to Medical,” he asked just as the silence cleared and the boys went back to eating. He had purposely waited until Cyrus had a bite in his mouth. “He must have been quite eloquent to have convinced you to change.”

“He… he was,” Cyrus answered, finishing the bite with some haste. “He was a former instructor at the Academy, that decided to go back to the Fleet. Doctor Turan.”

“Mhmm,” Zavareh nodded, looking to the window and the space dock beyond. He pointed to the ship on the other side, the Luna-class, “That is the Ardeshir, Doctor Turan is their Chief Medical Officer,” he said, giving Cyrus a smirk.

“Ok fine,” Cyrus replied, setting his fork down. “It wasn’t Doctor Turan that convinced me, it was Alice. She’s going for medical too, and I was always helping her with her biology. She asked me to sit in on Turan’s lecture, just to see what I thought, and it turns out I liked it. So I switched,” he declared, “But I’m not ashamed of you, Baba. I just didn’t tell her because I didn’t want her to think I was getting any special treatment being an Admiral’s son,” he explained.

“You’re not ashamed?” Zavareh asked.

“No, Baba. Why should I be?” He asked.

“Good,” Zavareh nodded, eating a bite. All four of them knew better than to think he was done talking. Once he’d finished it, he looked up at Cyrus, “Then she’ll join us for dinner tomorrow?”

The three other boys snorted, and Cyrus blanched, “S-sure,” he nodded. “Tomorrow.”