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Alec is sitting outside his shop, in jeans and a tee-shirt despite the cold, with a bowl of chopped up squares of meat. At least he's not barefoot? Circling him is a small brown dragon, about the length of his arm with a snub nose and jeweled eyes. He fishes out a piece of meat from the bowl and then flicks it into the air.

The piece of meat vanishes after leaving his hands and then the little dragon does too. The meat cube reappears somewhere in the square randomly and the dragon snatching it up just seconds behind it.

It then wings its way back to Alec and trills at him, obviously saying 'again'.

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And then after the borg eat Pluto she'll become a Q. Which really is one of the weirder sentences to have to write. Ah Peter David...what delicious crack you write.

"Thank you." Alec wipes his hands and shifts Trey some so that he's no longer sprawling across his arm. "My father vanished when I was thirteen, after my mom died. But I still think of him whenever I hear Mister Troven."

Yeah... her player quit those books when they ruined the Borg, destroyed pre-established continuity, and couldn't keep constant characterizations. No longer enjoyable and thankfully not official canon. She will forever live in better written fan fiction.

"I'm sorry to hear that," is all she says, despite having lost her own father. She doesn't talk about that, however. With anyone. It's simply not something that is up for discussion, no matter who the person might be. Nevermind that experience she had a few years earlier with that being posing as her father... She doesn't like to think about that, either.

That was a weird bit.

He shrugs. "He's around, I'm sure he'll show up when he wants to."

That subject off. "How are you finding Burby?"

"It's... quaint," was the nicest way she could put it, as she was very much a child of the 24th Century, and while she liked to spend time in places like this, it was never a significant amount of it with zero plans to ever live in such a place. She could 'rough it' with the best of them, but that didn't mean she enjoyed it.

"Hah. I like that. Quaint."

He understands her problems though he doesn't necessarily share them. Alec ambles around enough to get over things being quaint. It's relatively harmless and peaceful. No one is trying to kill him.

Therefore he likes it.

While she certainly appreciates a peaceful atmosphere and not being fired upon, this isn't where she belongs. She needs to be returned to her crew, her ship - as does Ensign Crusher, but at least she isn't the lone Starfleet Officer present.

"Wouldn't exactly call it what I'm used to but it's..." A shrug. She can't think of a better word or one that isn't insulting. "...quaint."

Edited 2013-02-17 06:25 (UTC)

"You're used to the starships and replicators and transporters," Alec agrees.

Technically Alec is a Starfleet Officer. He was one in a couple of realities. But he's not going to mention that.

Her eyebrows shot up. "And exactly how do you know about starships, replicators, and transporters?"

Without missing a beat, Alec says, "One of the doors that open up here occasionally opened up on the Enterprise. That's where Crusher is from, is he not? I poked around a lot."

Yes, that would indeed explain it, and her uniform - not to mention the Starfleet insignia pinned to her chest - was similar enough to Ensign Crusher's that it wouldn't be hard to make that sort of leap. She nods, confirming that.

"We're not from the same ship." Or time period, but no need to toe that fine line between what was alright to say and what wasn't unless absolutely necessary. No need to add more things she was going to have to prep herself for when and if they got back to Earth. The debriefings with Temporal Investigations alone were going to be a nightmare with a capital B for Braxton.

Alec gives Starfleet Temporal Investigations nightmares. They've got a file on him somewhere. Hidden so well that not even Section 31 could find it. It keeps him warm at night knowing these things.

"Well, the uniform is different," Alec says, helpfully confirming her suspicions.

Janeway nods, as if the Federation still operated under a set of rules that allowed for different starships to have uniform and insignia variations. Those days had long passed, but there was no need to offer up details that wouldn't do much to aid in their situation and only give her more to note in her log.

"I'm hoping we can find a way back to them." Because she is not planning on staying, and is as stubbornly determined to get herself and Ensign Crusher back to their ships as much as she is to get Voyager back to the Alpha Quadrant.

Yes. He knows, but he'll keep that to himself.

"You might, eventually. It's not impossible," Alec says. "Some people have managed it. You just have to look for the doorways that occasionally pop up."

"I don't like to place bets on mights. I'm more a fan of will." Confidence might as well be her middle name.

"Unfortunately this is a fickle place. In a way it's almost alive."

Alive. She wasn't sure she liked the sound of that, but it wasn't anything she hadn't encountered before.

"It was nice speaking with you and meeting your friend here, but I must locate one of my officers."

Oh? She's not going to stick around and ask what he means about that. Well, fair enough. He won't get to tell her about the evil forest.

"All right. It was a pleasure to meet you captain. If you ever need anything interesting, you should come into the store and look around."

She no doubt will at a later time, once she's spoken to Ensign Crusher and come up with an appropriate course of action since it seems like they're going to be here a while. Who will, inexperienced and just and young or not, be serving as her second in command while they're stuck in this most unusual predicament.

"I'll certainly keep that in mind."

With a smile and a nod, she was off to do just that.

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