Fantasy for Organ, in E flat Major

[collector]

[There is cake on the kitchen table. Everything else is irrelevant, because there is a table, and it has delicious cake on it.]

[But if one must notice the peripheral details, Irving Braxiatel is leaning on the counter by the oven. A fresh sheet of croissants are on top of the stove, and Braxiatel is looking over a paper on Shakespearean performances in non-human cultures. He is also fixing an odd bit of technology that might be recognized as part of a time ship's temporal stabilizer. The devil, after all, always finds work for idle hands. He seems perfectly at ease.]

[There is also an extra cake on the table, as if to ward off vultures from the main prize.]

Comments

[empirical_data]

[He shakes it.] It is a pleasure. Though I am still unaccustomed to happening across people over their breakfast. The Cardassians are a race that values survival and manipulative cunning over sacrifice. [Which led to a number of totalitarian occupations.]

May I ask what you are making?.. the ah, device, not the food.

[collector]

[Braxiatel sets down his device and picks up the tray of croissants and offers one to Data] That merely means they value other people's sacrifices.

It's a part I came across. It seems a bit out of order, so I'm trying a little 'DIY,' as Mr Kane would likely put it.

Fffft. I got held up by things. :\ I'm always so slow at you guys.

[empirical_data]

[He comes closer to examine it, pulling out his tricorder.] Intriguing. This... entire area has higher chronoton levels than the caverns of Devidia. [Oh, croissants! He'll try one for the sake of trying one. New experiences are valuable after all.]

Mr. Kane? [He asks after he swallows.]

It's okay! ♥ We understand.

[collector]

[Braxiatel glances over the tricorder briefly, considering making a subtle gesture to hide away the stabilizer but opting against it. Too much effort and too much risk for too low a possible pay-off.]

Jason Kane, an associate of mine from home. I'm afraid I'm not familiar with 'chronotons.' What would higher levels indicate?

.

[empirical_data]

Particles that are residual effects of time travel or where quantum disturbances exist. They behave similarly to tachyons and- [He cuts off as he turns with it like a divining rod toward Brax, and then glances up with a vaguely confused look holding his half-a-croissant a bit humorously in his other hand.]

[collector]

[Braxiatel briefly contemplates a 'the game is up,' but he feels that he should save his cliché of the day for later. Instead, he lifts an eyebrow] Be careful. I'm not sure how that little device of yours will fare if you get flakes of pastry in it.

[empirical_data]

It has been in worse situations... [Though he does place it back in his utility belt. The tricorder, not said pastry] Are you similar to Omega? [He found Omega to be very interesting.]

[collector]

[His calm expression turns slightly amused.] Ahh, you've met our Lord Founder. Yes, Omega and I are of the same species, though hardly the same generation.

[empirical_data]

Yes. When I first discovered the plane kindly explained many of its peculiarities. [And then he sniffs the remains of the croissant, before eating the rest of it. All in one bite. That's probably going to take him a moment to chew. He still messes up how much he should eat at once.]

[collector]

[Brax's amusement increases considerably.] I'll give you a moment before asking my question, but I'm glad he could be of assistance. There are, oh, six odd of my kind around here, and all of us have inherited a gift for verbosity to various degrees, so you'll likely come across us on occasion.

So. Now that we've outlined what I am, might I ask your kind? I'm not sure I'm quite familiar.

[empirical_data]

[Some shifty eyeing. Some chewing. A bit of a wince before he manages to swallow as Brax finishes. Ah, there.]

I am an android. [As always, there's a bit of trepidation with the admission. Even when he had no emotions, internally he had to prepare himself for the possibility he might have to defend his right to exist. It was such a common thought process that he didn't even question its necessity anymore.] And I am not opposed to extensive conversation. I have been told to refrain from speaking on numerous occasions.

[collector]

[There is no judgement from Brax. He is bound to his ship, in contact with the People, and a friend to the Oracle of the Lost. There's just that slight nod of confirmation, and then another smile.] Well, I'm unlikely to tell you that. It would be hypocritical, and I do my best to avoid that.

Your uniform. Are you Starfleet?

[empirical_data]

[That pleases him to know, thought being ceaselessly inquisitive might be troublesome for Time Lords.] I am. From the year 2379. I'm the Lt. Commander of the starship Enterprise. [Which he supposes he's familiar with if he knows he's starfleet.] You have met Nurse Chapel and Captain Kirk?

[collector]

I've met Christine. Lovely lady. But I don't believe that's the year she gave me.

[Knowing something for an android is less useful than knowing a thing's biological species, though the human model does at least help. Braxiatel thus quiet logs in details of Data's behaviour at the back of his head for assessment. Over his cup of tea, of course.]

[empirical_data]

She is from the NCC-1701. I am from the NCC-1701 E. [His eyes dart as he follows content of files that scroll before his eyes, obviously unseen by anyone else but him (unlike poor Box)] I've been in Starfleet for thirty-nine years. [Everyone was still in red uniforms when he joined.

He recalls an earlier part of the conversation.] Do you and Omega vary widely in time in a linear sense? [It's difficult to tell with time travellers]

[collector]

[Braxiatel smiles, as if in polite acknowledgement of the question's complexity.] Omega is one of those who founded our people. In many ways, he was the first of our Lords of Time. His time is so long ago that it is shrouded in myth and contradiction—and this for a species that prides itself on observing and recording events.

But through the circumstances of his life, and I'll leave them to him to tell, he is actually quite close to my relative point in time. He can't be, oh, more than a few centuries behind me, really. Judging from his place in the Doctor's timeline.

[Braxiatel's own timeline is so twisted that this is a gross simplification. But admitting to one's species is no reason to confess to having broken one's own people's laws.]

[And besides that, Brax is allergic to direct honesty.]