The sum of ones parts?

Posted on 12 Apr 2014 @ 1:09pm by Cadet Sophomore Grade Alenis Taban
Edited on on 16 Apr 2014 @ 9:47am

1,791 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Episode 06 - Legend of Souls
Location: Aft Escape Pod, Xepolite Freighter Jian'Karra - 1 day out of Lyshan III
Timeline: MD 2 - 0915 hours

The Ferengi may say that a person is the sum of their possessions.

That a person could fit their entire life into a single duffel bag - and most of that equipment and clothes assigned to them by Starfleet - would surely be a very sad state of affairs to most Ferengi.

The Cardassians would probably say that a person is the sum total of their family.

There would be nothing more pitiful to them than an orphan born to a single mother, who didn't even know his father's name and had been raised only on the meagre resources of an impoverished state and charity.

The Klingons might well say that a person is the sum of their foes.

A 20 year-old without foes, and yet to fight any kind of battle except one for survival, would surely be a disappointment to most Klingons: especially one who looked like a Cardassian, wore a Starfleet cadet's uniform, and had no house to fight for.

The Vulcans could say that a person is only the sum of their knowledge.

A second-year Starfleet cadet with little formal education beyond what he had learned there would seem paltry against even a pre-pubescent Vulcan.

Humans, and the Trill, say that a person is the sum of their experiences.

And it was in experiences that Cadet Alenis Taban was definitely rich. Few 20-year olds had lived and worked aboard a working freighter for over three years, let alone survived sleeping rough in a Bajoran scrapyard. Life growing up on a post-Occupation Bajor as a, very Cardassian-looking, Cardassian/Bajoran hybrid - as an orphan from the age of 4 - had certainly not been an easy path in life.

A loud banging interrupted the hybrid from his thoughts and spinning around he instinctively snapped to attention next to the bed on which his paltry worldly possessions lay in the duffel bag. "Come in!" he called out above the dull hum the Xepolite freighter made when at high warp.

The escape pod hatch swung open to reveal the, at first, smiling face of an older Trill male. Seeing the young Cardassian/Bajoran standing at attention seemed to bring a cloud over the visitor's face, which moved seamlessly into a scowl. "Gorram' it, son." splurted the older man. "It's bad enough you wearing that Starfleet clown suit around here, but please don't start saluting me or your room may have to revert to its original function as an airlock and escape pod!"

Taban sheepishly slipped into a more relaxed pose as the old Trill came through the hatch. "Sorry, muscle memory." he murmured.

The freighter captain moved to face Taban and, wagging his finger in the direction of the cadet's midriff, blustered "I tell you, it was bad enough when 'Lara decided to join the fleeters. She was my own flesh and blood so I had no choice but to support that decision. But you! You're just embarrassing me now. After I took you in off the scrapyard! All the others think I'm some kind of Starfleet recruiting service now!"

Alenis remained quiet for a moment. His eyes gazing directly but half-forlornly into the Trill's.

Berant stared back, locking eyes with his 'son'. The hybrid's eyes, with the ridged-nose between them, were the only part of his face which was recognisably Bajoran. He remembered looking into them five year's previously, when the desperate, bedraggled, and filthy 15 year old was dragged from underneath the warp core by Solomon. His face covered in muck and grime two pinpoints of gentle deep blue light stood out. They were totally out of place in the strong Cardassian features of the hulking hybrid. They showed the innocence and gentle spirit of a child. A child whose childhood had hardly been. Those eyes had been the only reason that he, Berant Amblitsio, CEO of the Amblitsio Freight Corporation, Captain of the Xepolite Freighter Jian'Karra, renowned (but never proven) smuggler-extraordinaire, had kept the teenage stowaway on his ship all those years before.

The moment of reminiscence was broken as the Trill's face twitched and he struggled to hold back a tirade of guffawing laughter following his joking rant. Through the belly-laughs he spluttered "That's why I could never stay mad at you, you big old lump."

Taban chuckled along, steadying Berant as the ship shook slightly with a speed change. Placing his huge right hand on the smaller Trill's shoulder he smiled down at the man he had come to consider his 'father' and speaking warmly, said two words "Thank you."

Amblitsio laughed again. "Great Sloth of B'moth, I don't know: my daughter gets a slug in her belly and loses the ability to express emotions, while my emotionless hulk of a stowaway goes and becomes soppier than a stuffed animal. What's the universe coming to?"

Having grown up so much on the freighter, Taban knew precisely what this meant. For the burly crew of the Jian'Karra that was about as close to an emotional conversation you'd ever get. An all male, except when Talara was aboard, crew of misfits, outcasts, and reprobates - most just looking for their next drink - tended to bond through insults, banter, and the odd fist-fight. It wasn't what you'd call 'normal', but to him it meant only one thing: family.

"Anyway," stated Berant, finally finishing laughing for long enough to re-straighten his face and revert to being 'the boss' "reason I traipsed all the way out to the arse-end of my rust-bucket is that the aft comms-relay's gone down again and you know how stroppy Solomon gets when he has to go into the ventral crawl-space. Last thing I need today is a stroppy - or should that be stroppier? - 7' Afro-Caribbean human stomping around Engineering like a giant black bear with a sore head. So I thought I'd make all our lives easier by letting you put all your Starfleet technobabble to use and fix it. We're about a day out from Lyshan III so it would be quite useful to let the Galileo and the base know we're coming in tomorrow morning. Last thing we want is an inspection for turning up unannounced. You know what those Cardassian pencil... pushers... are... like..."

He inwardly cursed as he realised what he'd said and tailed off. A single glance up to the obvious grimace on Taban's face was enough to tell him precisely what he'd done. Under his breath he muttered "Shit..."

The merest mention of his father's species made the Cadet tense up. Besides the Cardassian war orphans he'd grown up with in the orphanage he'd never met a Cardassian - certainly not a 'real' Cardassian: the kind of Cardassian who had assaulted and raped his defenceless mother after she had already endured endless days and nights of torture, the kind of Cardassian who had killed thousands of innocent civilians in inhumane conditions at work camps for decades of Occupation, the kind of Cardassian who would ally themselves to the Dominion and try to enslave the entire quadrant. One hardly needed to judge the individual actions with words like 'monster'. There already existed a word for such depravity, brutality, and evil: Cardassian.

And yet... therein lay the contradiction at the very heart of his pagh: Taban was half Cardassian. He may not have liked that fact; he may have detested it in every waking moment; it may have caused revulsion in even his gentle mother's kindly eyes and frayed the bond between her and the infant Taban; it may have prevented anyone from ever accepting him into their hearts his whole life as he rotted in a forsaken orphanage before he stepped aboard the Jian'Karra; but... that is who he was.

Instinctively his right hand moved to his ear, where his earring would normally sit, as he breathed deeply a few times before sitting down on the edge of his bed. As he rolled the edge of his ear lobe between his right thumb and the knuckle of his index finger his left hand slowly, but purposefully, crept across the bed to the end pocket of his duffel bag and unzipped it. From it he pulled out a small, slightly tattered, but definitely well-loved soft toy in the form of a Bajoran hara cat, which he held close to his chest for a few moments.

Berant stood entirely still. Still inwardly cursing himself for dropping such a shocking piece of news on the youngster so indelicately. He didn't know if it were better to leave and let Taban have a few minutes, or to try and speak to break the youngster out of his nigh-trance-like state. After what must have been the most awkward thirty seconds of his life he finally decided on the former and slowly backed out of the room, trying to catch the hatch as it closed behind him so as not to bang it. In that he failed and a loud clang reverberated around the ship. Raising his fist to his mouth and feigning to bite the top of his index finger he again inwardly cursed his stupidity and took a moment to try and re-centre himself.

While the Trill stood there silently the hatch suddenly opened again and the huge frame of the Cadet stepped through, his toolkit in hand and a smile on his face - as if the previous few minutes had never happened. "So, boss, what was the trouble with the aft comm-relay?"

Berant did a complete double-take at the sight. Unsure whether to believe either this or that what had just happened in the escape pod had indeed just happened. A pause followed while he worked his confusion out, before he finally replied "Right... errr.. yes. Sorry about that. Didn't think. Not entirely sure... just know it's not working. All I need to know is: can it be fixed? If it can be, what's needed? And how easily can we do it? And for the love of all that is good in this galaxy please do NOT tell me we need another spare part because you know what Solomon will say if we have to tell him that."

The pair's eyes met and after a moment's silence they both replied in unison, mimicking the deep rich Caribbean accent of the Jian'Karra's mechanic "You know how hard it is findin' spare parts for this bucket'o'bolts?"

The pair chuckled to one another for a moment before, with a nod, they went their separate ways down the corridor. Both preoccupied with what had just happened in the escape pod, but neither wanting to dwell any more than they could avoid.

OFF:

Cadet (Sophomore Grade) Alenis Taban
Operations Officer (provisional)
USS Galileo

NPC by "Moose":

Berant Amblitsio
Captain, Xepolite Freighter Jian'Karra
CEO, Amblitsio Freight Corporation

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