2019.03.08 - Captain Errant, meet Commander Dexios
As the ship's been underway, there's been plenty to do, so getting to know the senior staff has had to take a backseat. However, now that the Escapade is docked with Babylon 5, Arc is making time to get to know his officers. He's scheduled a meeting with Dexios, asking the science officer to join him in his ready room at his first convenience so they can talk and, perhaps, begin to establish a professional and personal rapport. At present, Arc sits in his chair with his feet up on the desk, crossed at the the ankles, and his uniform jacket draped from the back of his chair while he taps a datapad, idly skimming over a ship's status report.
In full uniform, and precisely punctual, the chime to the door announces Dexios' presence, and he steps inward when invited. "Commander Dexios reporting as requested," he says, primly. His stature is perfectly at attention, and uniform uncreased, if form-fitting; he is an extremely well-built man, and the uniform leaves little to the imagination in that regard.
The captain is, himself, a big man, also on the tall and muscular side, though there's a decidedly less formal air about him. If Dexios could be compared to a perfectly fitted uniform, Arc's presence is more like comfortably worn leather--but then, appearances can be deceptive, after all. As Dexios enters, Arc of course invites him in, putting aside the tablet and dropping his booted feet to the floor. Sitting forward, he gestures to one of the chairs opposite his desk and says, "Commander, come in. Have a seat. I don't stand on ceremony much. In fact, outside of official business and tactical situations, I prefer to keep things pretty informal. But I'll get to that more in a bit." He offers a grin, looking Dex over, and says in a tone that is more sincerely complimentary than an awkward come-on (as the same words could easily be, delivered a bit differently), "You're certainly a fine-looking officer. And you've got quite a record, too. Some of the most interesting reading I've seen in a while."
While his movements are surprisingly fluid and graceful for a man so powerfully put-together, Dexios nonetheless take the proffered seat with an obstinate sense of formality and protocol. "Yes, I have served under captains with similar philosophies in the past," he says, with a rich and deep voice that could easily be turned towards either the sensual or commanding--and which was probably the point. Still, he keeps it strictly professional in tone, implying he likely did so on his other assignments as well. "Thank you, captain. I hope you don't find my history concerning."
A smile quirks at the corner of Arc's lips, and he says, "Well, Dexios--or do you prefer 'Dex'?--no, I don't. Actually, we have a few surprising things in common, but then, maybe not so surprising. Part of the purpose behind assembling this crew was to assemble some very unique individuals, after all. If you ever want to talk about your past, I want you to know I'm here and willing. I take a very active interest in the lives and well-being of my crew, and to be frank, I prefer to be close with my officers. I believe in friendship and trust more than military-style discipline--which isn't to say I don't believe in discipline, and I won't pretend not to have authority, but I prefer the personal to the impersonal." He cracks a full grin. "But, that's all in my file, so no need to get into it too much. I'm more interested in getting to know you, right now, and for you to get to know me."
The commander continues to keep his demeanor very cool and even, though he does nod. "My previous commanding officers have preferred 'Dex.' It is... efficient." His preference on the matter is kept perhaps suspiciously silent. "I appreciate your willingness to talk, captain. And while I will keep that in mind, my history, as you might say, is history. Should you have any questions, I am happy to answer them, but I don't require any counseling services." He moves right along. "That said, you should have recieved the code to my cybernetic limiter. If trust is your concern, you should understand the trust and faith I am putting in you to use that code wisely." As for the rest, "Otherwise, I'm sure I can adapt to your leadership style, captain. I have done my reading on you and I don't foresee any difficulties in that regard."
Arc listens to all this, his expression going vaguely still. Then he nods, smiling faintly again, and says, "Right. Well, Dex, you can be assured that I will use that responsibly. For the record, if it were entirely my decision, the limiter isn't how I'd have dealt with your situation. I think you'd be better off learning personal control than being controlled artificially. But I'm sure that's something we'll have time to explore more extensively in the future." He lifts his head a bit, regarding Dexios thoughtfully. "If you don't mind my saying, you seem pretty stiff. I'm going to blatantly breach protocol, now, to demonstrate the fact that I'm not a stickler for protocol. So, Dex, is there anything I can do to get you to relax a little? Offer you a drink, maybe?"
The limiter is a bit of a touchy subject, and the first to get a more demonstrative expression from the man. His brows furrow. How demonstrative! "It was the only way the Admiralty would allow me to serve, out of fear, naturally, but not entirely unfounded fear. I do hope that one day my service record will convince them that the device is no longer necessary, but I don't wish to push issue, lest they think I want it too badly." He's exhales slowly. It's almost a sigh. "And that is one of the reasons I adhere to protocol as much possible. I have also found it makes those... aware of my condition more comfortable when I do so." He then clears his throat. "I apologize if I am making you uncomfortable, captain. I will try to be more... casual. I will take a drink."
Arc rises from his seat, stepping not over to the replicator but to a small locker in the corner, which he opens and removes a bottle and two glasses. He sets the glasses on the desk, sitting down again, and uncorks the bottle, pouring a fairly generous measure into each glass. "I don't normally drink on duty," he admits, "but we're in port, and someone else has the bridge, anyway." He gives a small wink, then gestures to the glass. "Do you care for bourbon, Dex? I've always liked it." He brings the glass to his lips, pausing to enjoy the smell before he sips it. Then, setting down the glass, he says, "I won't draw it out, but I'll make it a point to keep notes on the inhibitor situation. As I can, and of course if I judge it right, I'll write up my recommendation to the fleet toward having it removed, but my argument will hold up a lot better if I have plenty of evidence to back it up. I hope I can help."