Rutherford Meeting Vessa
Posted on Sat Oct 10th, 2026 @ 4:24pm by Lieutenant Junior Grade Ralen Vessa & Captain Elijah Rutherford & Griffin Blackwell
3,116 words; about a 16 minute read
Mission:
Orcrist Mission 2: The Long Watch
Location: Prancing Pony
Timeline: MD 01 1200
Now Elijah got word of an arrival of the Assistant CAG and as what his prevalence of doing, he determined he'd get to know the newest arrival on the Orcrist.
He wasn't wanting to have the meeting in his Ready Room, as he preferred things to be a bit more casual. As it was he'd been told by his wife he had better make sure he had lunch.
A message was sent to Vessa, to meet him at the Prancing Pony.
Eiijah smiled as he stepped inside the lounge, for there just at the entrance was the facsimile of the Orcrist on display. He made his way to his accustomed table, to where he could see who was there but also have a quiet area to eat and talk. Griffin gave a nod towards him as he stepped inside.
The bartender a tall barrel chested man, his shoulders broad his black hair that was tied back into a pony tail had some streaks of silver in it. He looked like he could have been a fighter from the pages of the Tolkien books gave a nod. He motioned towards the table where and also motioned with his finger one or two, Elijah raised two fingers in answer.
The table was set in a quiet corner, it being made of hewn wood, which was well cared for. The chairs comfortable. A candle contained in what appeared to be a lantern was there in the middle of the table. There was also a light scent scent of citrus coming from the table, of which the rich dark brown wood was cleaned with.
And now Elijah waited, his tunic top unzipped slightly just for comfort.
Vessa had expected the Captain’s ready room.
Instead, his message had directed her to the Prancing Pony, which either meant Rutherford preferred informal meetings or he had decided disciplinary paperwork went down better with lunch.
She was willing to find out.
The lounge earned a brief pause when she stepped through the doors. Her eyes went first to the model of the Orcrist displayed near the entrance, then over the heavy timber, lantern light and deliberate old-world atmosphere. Someone had committed to the theme. Probably more than was healthy.
Still, it was warmer than another office.
Vessa spotted Rutherford in the quieter corner without difficulty. Dark blond hair, broad shoulders, command red. He looked much like his personnel photograph, though the loosened tunic suggested this was meant to be less of a formal summons and more of a conversation.
That did not necessarily make it safer.
She crossed the room with her jacket fastened and her hands loose at her sides, taking in the exits, the bar and the Captain himself out of habit rather than concern. The bartender looked capable of throwing someone through a bulkhead if the medieval décor ever demanded authenticity.
Vessa stopped beside the table.
“Captain Rutherford.”
She gave him a small nod, respectful without becoming rigid.
“Lieutenant Junior Grade Ralen Vessa, as requested.”
Her gaze moved briefly across the set table before returning to him. A faint smile touched her mouth.
“I’ll admit, when the commanding officer asked to see me on my first day, lunch wasn’t the first possibility that came to mind.”
Watching as Vessa made her way towards his table, Elijah took note as to her reading the room. That stood out to him, and it was something he approved of. For someone being a pilot having that sort of alertness meant whoever she flew with, or whatever Vessa flew, there would be more chance of survival.
"Disciplinary conversation? You know you're the third person who has wondered about that." Elijah having an amused smile, his eyes reflecting it as well.
"Please have a seat, and we can order lunch. I have looked at your record, and, as far as I am concerned once you stepped onto the ship, whatever happened before that is in the past."
Vessa’s smile widened.
“I’ve sat through enough disciplinary meetings to recognise the opening moves.”
She pulled out the chair and dropped into it, far more at ease now that he had made the ground rules clear.
“But if you’re serious about leaving the past where it is, Captain, I’m not going to argue with you. That would be a terrible waste of personal growth.”
Her eyes held his across the lantern-lit table, amusement bright in them.
“I should probably warn you, though. Some of those lessons didn’t take.”
An eyebrow raised at her statement.
"And what lessons are you referring to? What I am looking for and have been looking for are people who can think for themselves, have skills that can benefit this ship. I wasn't looking for perfection. If I would be looking for perfection, I'd be the last person on this ship to be in command."
His eyes twinkling, as Elijah stated this.
"A file written about a person doesn't truly tell me who they are. Sure it tells me what they have or haven't done. Maybe what sort of trouble they may have gotten into. This though is the here and now. And we are meeting face to face and having lunch."
Vessa’s mouth pulled to one side.
“Nobody’s perfect. A Vulcan might argue the point, but they usually do.”
She reached for the menu, letting the warm lantern light catch across its surface as she opened it.
“And I wasn’t offering examples, Captain. Some lessons are better left buried with the people who tried teaching them.”
Her eyes lifted over the top edge of the menu, humour still there, but the line beneath it firmer now.
“But the here and now works for me. You want to know who I am, ask. Just don’t expect the file version. She sounds exhausting.”
Vessa glanced down the menu again.
“Also, since this is apparently lunch and not an ambush, what’s actually good here?”
Elijah nodded, "I agree. As for what's good There is food that steps into the genre of this place. I do like the steak and ale meat pie. Also there is the usual fare that you can order as well. "
A shadow dropped across the table, and Elijah looked up.
It was Griffin.
He had a plate with several muffins upon it.
"Baked these earlier, " His voice having a gravelly quality to it.
"What can I get for you, or are you just deciding still. Also coffee, tea--something else?" Griffin asked.
Vessa looked from Elijah to Griffin, then back to the menu.
“Steak and ale pie,” she repeated. “So Humans pour alcohol over meat, wrap it in pastry and call that lunch.”
Her mouth curved.
“You’re a strange people.”
The muffins earned a brief glance, but she left them where Griffin had set them.
“I’ll have the Ranger’s board. Smoked targ, roast roots, dark bread.” She looked up at Griffin. “And Bajoran fire-pepper relish, unless the theme requires everything to taste historically beige.”
She closed the menu and passed it back.
“Coffee too. Black.”
Her eyes returned to Elijah.
“A Ranger’s board in a tavern named after a horse, aboard a starship.”
A small smile touched her mouth.
“Somehow, that still makes more sense than baked alcohol and meat.”
"Its just the flavor." Elijah stated.
Griffin's mouth quirked as if he wanted to smile, his eyes having a fire to them as he looked at Vessa.
"Oh no beige flavors, we do have the fire sauce and how hot do you want it. Some of them can be registered as weapons."
Elijah chuckled.
"Just how hot do you want it, as Griffin has quite the assortment. One of it. I feel is aptly named."
Griffin gave out a deep chested laugh.
"Ah yes. Elijah's Extreme Regret. "
"Yes, that." Elijah stated trying to hold a straight face.
Vessa’s attention shifted fully to Griffin.
“Registered as a weapon?”
Her smile widened.
“Now we’re talking.”
She set the menu down and leaned back in her chair, looking entirely too pleased by the prospect.
“I’ll take Elijah’s Extreme Regret. Properly made, not the version you give people because they’re new and you don’t want them crying into the bread.”
Her eyes flicked to the Captain.
“And if it’s only ‘just the flavour’, you can have some too.”
She looked back to Griffin.
“Put it on the side, though. I want to know whether it earns the name before I drown lunch in it.”
A rumble issued from Griffin, a corner of his mouth twitching.
"I may have colored water, the mild stuff for those who want it. The bottles I have in my larder are real and have the real heat."
He glanced over towards Elijah.
"You've got a fiery one there, hope you keep her. The more spice for this ship the better."
Griffin turning to get the orders for both Vessa and Elijah.
Elijah watched as Griffin headed away from the table.
"He decided to come to this ship from the other one I commanded." Elijah remrked turning his gaze back to Vessa.
Vessa watched Griffin disappear towards the kitchen, then looked back at Elijah.
“Followed you from another ship?”
Her eyebrows lifted.
“Captain, you’ve got yourself a stalker.”
She settled back in the chair, clearly entertained by the idea.
“Could be worse, I suppose. Yours brings food and apparently keeps weapon-grade hot sauce in the larder.”
Elijah chuckled at Vessa's comment.
"Well yes and he's good cook. He's a keeper."
When Griffin disappeared from view, Elijah turned back to Vessa.
"The hotter the better is your form of spice." he said musingly.
"Have you been able to explore much of the ship?" picking up one of the muffins Griffin had delivered and proceeded to butt it. Elijah had chosen a blueberry muffin.
Vessa gave a small shrug, as though her tolerance for food capable of stripping paint was perfectly ordinary.
“Hotter the better. If I’m not regretting at least one life choice halfway through, what’s the point?”
She settled back in the chair while Elijah attacked his muffin, her gaze wandering briefly over the Prancing Pony before returning to him.
“I’ve seen some of the ship. Flight Operations, the hangars, simulator bays, Sickbay. Found my quarters eventually.” Her mouth twitched. “And now I know where the bar is, so I’ve got the important systems mapped.”
The Orcrist was an Akira, which meant a lot of her attention had naturally gone towards the spaces built around launching, recovering and keeping small craft alive. Those parts made sense to her. The rest was still corridors, deck numbers and doors that all looked suspiciously alike.
“I like her, though. Akiras were built with teeth, and you can feel that once you get near Flight. Plenty of room for fighters without the whole ship feeling like somebody bolted a carrier onto an afterthought.”
She glanced towards the room again.
“Still getting used to the medieval tavern hiding inside it.”
His eyes looked over the Prancing Pony once more, a fond smile appearing.
"It is rather unique, but fits the Orcrist." Elijah taking another bite of his muffin.
His eyes drifted back to Vessa.
"You've been to the flight deck and found your way to your quarters. How would you like to go to the bridge after lunch?"
Elijah's eyebrow quirked upwards when he asked that question.
Vessa paused with her hand near her coffee.
“The bridge?”
Her eyebrows climbed, and a grin started to form.
“Careful, Captain. Keep this up and people are going to think you’re promoting me.”
She lifted the cup, took a sip, then set it back down.
“But yeah. I’d like that.”
Her gaze stayed on him, bright with genuine interest now.
“I’ve seen plenty of flight decks. The bridge tells you what kind of ship you’re actually serving on.”
"Good, as I feel its in a practical nature to have thsoe who know how to fly one craft to have the skills for another area."
Just then Griffin showed up with their food, placing it down in front of them.
"Enjoy." Griffin's voice rumbled, though there was a twinkle in hie eyes.
He also placed a bottle of Elijah's Extreme Regret next to Vessa's plate.
"Here, this be yours." then he turned around without another word and walked away.
Elijah gave out a chuckle as he watched the receding back of Griffin.
"Interesting, I think you've just been adopted." picking up his fork to dig into his food.
Vessa looked at the bottle Griffin had deposited beside her plate, then after him as he disappeared back towards the bar.
“Adopted? Good. Saves me having to make friends properly.”
She turned the bottle once in her hand, reading Elijah’s Extreme Regret again before setting it beside her plate with considerably more care than the name suggested.
The Captain’s earlier comment stayed with her, though. Vessa could fly far more than fighters. Shuttles, runabouts, transports, anything small enough that the controls still felt immediate rather than distant. Given a helm and sufficient motivation, she could probably keep something much larger pointed in the right direction too.
That did not make her a bridge officer.
There was a whole department aboard the Orcrist trained for that, and Vessa had no particular desire to wander onto their turf pretending that throwing a Valkyrie through a combat turn translated neatly into starship operations. Still, seeing the bridge interested her for entirely different reasons. Fighters never operated alone. Every launch, recovery, tactical vector and bad day in the cockpit ultimately connected back to decisions made up there.
She reached for her fork, then eyed the bottle again.
“Bridge tour after lunch, then.”
A grin tugged at her mouth.
“Assuming this stuff doesn’t kill me first.”
A chuckle from Elijah, "Hope it doesn't kill you. I survived , I'm sure you will as well." giving a grin.
Once lunch was finished, they proceeded out the door of the Prancing Pony.
=======
Bridge
=======
The lift door opened, revealing the bridge, Elijah stepped out, moving to the right to let Vessa step out.
"Have a look around even, have a seat at the helm if you so wish." his voice filled with warmth and also a hint of pride as well.
Vessa stepped out of the turbolift and gave the bridge a slow once-over.
She had been on enough of them that the sight itself was not impressive anymore. Different layouts, different ships, same basic concentration of responsibility and officers with enough pips between them to make bad behaviour professionally expensive.
Her eyes went first to the main viewer, then the tactical and operations stations, before settling briefly on the helm. Someone was already there doing their job, and Vessa had no intention of making them move just so she could play tourist.
“I’m good,” she said when Elijah offered the seat. “I’ve got a healthy respect for people touching other people’s controls without being invited.”
Coming from her, that was almost funny.
She wandered a little farther onto the bridge instead, careful not to get in anyone’s way. It felt different from Flight Operations. Quieter, in some ways, but the kind of quiet where every console mattered and somebody was always listening for the next thing to go wrong.
Vessa glanced towards Elijah.
“I’ve been on bridges before. Usually there are just fewer people up here who can ruin my career with one sentence.”
A grin crept in.
“Nice view, though.”
Elijah turned his back to the viewscreen, looking towards the aft section of the bridge.
"There is a station for Rohirrim Operations," Elijah stated with a bit of a smile, moving towards that section. "I think it's rather self-explanatory as to what its purpose is."
Vessa followed his gaze towards the aft station, and this time there was no need to puzzle out what she was looking at. The layout gave it away almost immediately: fighter status, launch and recovery sequencing, patrol assignments, tactical vectors. The bridge-side nerve centre for everything that happened once Flight stopped being safely tucked inside the hangars.
“Yeah,” she said, moving a little closer. “That one speaks my language.”
She let her eyes travel over the displays, already mentally connecting them to the boards she had seen down in Flight Operations. From here, though, the picture was wider. Less about one squadron and more about keeping several flights moving around the Orcrist without turning the battlespace into an expensive traffic accident.
A faint smile touched her mouth.
“So this is where somebody gets to tell us all where to go while we pretend it was our idea.”
That, at least, felt familiar.
Elijah chuckled at Vessa's comment.
"Something like that. Though I would hope that those who are out there flying have some say as to where they are going."
His gaze went towards the station then back to Vessa.
"It gives the Rohirrim a presence here on the bridge as well. Someone who knows what is happening out there, and can let us know what you need from us."
A slight smile appeared.
"Instead of us just telling you where to go."
Vessa stayed by the Rohirrim station for another moment, following the information moving across the displays. Fighter positions, launch status, recovery windows, tactical assignments. Seen from up here, Flight looked different, but not unfamiliar.
“Yeah. I like that,” she said. “Someone up here who actually knows what’s happening outside the hull, not just what the tactical display says is happening.”
Her eyes tracked one of the flight markers before she looked back to Elijah.
“And if we need something from the ship, we’ve got somebody here who speaks the language. Saves a lot of shouting.”
Vessa gave the bridge one last look, then shifted towards the turbolift.
“Thanks for the lunch and the tour, Captain. I should get back to Flight before Hayter decides I’ve gone missing on my first day.”
A faint smile touched her mouth.
“I’m trying to pace myself.”
An answering smile, and a soft chuckle, as Elijah gave a knowing nod.
"Yes, can't have that happen, though you do have an excuse. Its the captain's fault. not that you asre one to use something like that."
Another gaze around the bridge of the Orcrist. "Welcome aboard Vessa." Elijah said. Moving to not block her way.
Captain Elijah Rutherford
CO
USS Orcrist
Lieutenant JG Ralen "Scorch" Vessa
Deputy CAG
Flight Commander, East Mark Flight
USS Orcrist
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