Roomies

Posted on 28 Jan 2015 @ 12:16am by Lieutenant Olsam Mott & Ensign Arandon Khnailmnae Ph.D.

1,777 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Episode 07 - Sojourn
Location: USS Galileo - Deck 3, Quarters 03-1305 JO
Timeline: MD43: 1600hrs

[ ON ]

"My last roommate was a cat," Olsam said plainly as he watched Arandon, sounding childlike in both content and tone; following it up with a big toothy grin didn't do much to help project intelligence. "Not a real cat. Although not a fake cat, either. He wasn't a figment of my imagination. Or, at least I don't think he was... His transfer was very sudden and coincidental. Maybe he was imaginary! Maybe my mind resolved whatever psychological trauma resulted in his creation, and he was no longer needed. Or maybe you've been here all along, and I just imagined you were a caitian. You're about the same height and build as Teth. Have you been here this whole time?"

Arandon just quietly unpacked his things through the seemingly endless bombardment of questions from the Bolian Doctor. Cheerful and upbeat was something he was rather used to, being from a pleasure planet, but Risians were a bit more subdued, they were seductive and alluring, and didn't talk your ear off. Arandon could only hope that his short answers would suffice to Dr. Mott.

Arandon, speaking a little more clearly than normal, his words were a bit cold but his tone had a certain youthful warmth to it, nave and aloof. "No Doctor, I just recently came aboard," He explained, calmly. Ignoring the rest of the Doctor's ramblings, Arandon took out his Horga'hn and went to place it on the set of drawers by their beds. It was a ritual one, a bit larger than the tacky ones tourists carried around. This was meant not for Jamaharon, but prayer and celebration to the great fertility goddess.

"Oh, you brought your own hand juicer," Olsam said, taking note of the Horqa'hn. He shuffled over, reached out to take it up, but then pulled his hand back after remembering some conversation with Tuula about how you shouldn't just pick up other people's belongings. It was a stupid notion, of course, but he didn't want to offend his new roommate on the very first day. "Do you like oranges? They're my favorite non-Bolian fruit. You can't really use a hand juicer for our native fruits, though. You need a hammer."

Arandon's eyes darted around the room for a moment, flabbergasted at the Doctor's lack of knowledge of Risian culture. "Doctor that's not a... 'juicer'."

"It's not?" Olsam asked, looking from Arandon to the statue and back again. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands, pretending to juice an orange on top of it. "Are you sure? It looks like a hand juicer... I mean, you'd need a really big hand, but still. Did you buy it on Qo'noS?"

"Have you never been to Risa?" Arandon was equally surprised at that notion as well.

"Of course I have," Olsam huffed, looking a bit miffed at the implication he was some sort of backwater hee-haw from the eastern continent. "Is that where you bought it? I never go in the gift shops there. I'm usually at the buffet."

"That's a Horga'hn, Doctor, it's a Risian fertility symbol," Gently taking it out of Oslam's hands. "Normally tourists carry around smaller ones, seeking Jamaharon. But this one completes an altar to the Risian Goddess of fertility, one prays for pleasure, among other things."

Olsam's eyes squinted at Arandon, and one could almost see the wheels turning in his mind. When he spoke, it all came out so hurriedly that it might as well have been one sentence. "Hmmm. So, the smaller ones are like a map to Jamaharon? I don't think I've been there. Is it like a club, or an exclusive island? I can't say that I've heard of it at all... Does it have something to do with this fertility goddess?"

Arandon gave a small laugh that sounded rather forced and sarcastic, but coming in his innocent tone of voice, it was masked. "Jamaharon is a Risian fertility right, it involves... well, more than I could describe in a short conversation." His voice adopted a sort of seductive undertone. "Most think it's purely sexual, but it has spiritual and mental components too."

Olsam seemed to blanch into a lighter shade of blue, and he looked down at his hands. He'd touched that...that...sex object. How many microbes had been on that thing? Eight million? Ten million? How did you "pray" with it? His mind worked over the possibilities, and he looked like he was on the verge of passing out. Was it impolite to sterilize your hands in front of a person after touching one of their belongings? Probably so, he reasoned, so he'd just have to wait until he could slip away to Sickbay...

"Oh. A fertility rite. Got it. Well. That is definitely not a hand juicer, hm? I guess I just never noticed them before... I usually don't pay much attention to that sort of thing, unless a patient has some kind of sexually transmitted infection or the like. Or a routine gynecological exam. But then it's not really 'paying attention' in the same kind of way, is it?" Olsam cleared his throat, feeling like they might be getting off on the wrong foot, but pressed on. It was an important to show an interest in other people, no matter how much it made your skin crawl. "What sort of spiritual and mental component? I wasn't aware there was a component to sexual intercourse that went beyond the physical. At least, that's what the medical texts say."

Arandon set the idol back down and breathed for a moment. "It's better to experience it for yourself Doctor, I'm sure any description I could give is inadequate," Arandon said, moving back to his bags, mostly full of clothes, academic journals and the odd personal knickknack.

Olsam's nose turned up slightly as the young man faced away. He wasn't sure it sounded like something he wanted to experience himself. He'd never had a spiritual encounter a day in his life, and describing a sex act as having a mental component just sounded down right invasive. He filed it away in the back of his mind to ask one of his friends or colleagues about, maybe Tuula or Norvi. Better understanding it might come in handy while trying to save a Risian's life one day.

"Uh, so... You're from Risa? I'm from Bolarus," Olsam said, making his way around to the galaxy's most obvious introduction. "Have you ever been to Bolarus? We don't receive as many visitors. We don't have any idol thingies either, but we do have a lot of hand juicers."

Arandon simply nodded. "I see," It was in his interests to be kind to the man and he didn't have any plans not to be, but he didn't make friends well, or at all in a certain light. The Bolian Doctor's exuberance was also certainly something that might get on his nerves. Arandon liked the quiet. He could only hope that he could get some in his own quarters. If not there, then his place of work. Still, Arandon could make small talk, best to get it done and over with. "Have you been away from Bolarus long?" He asked, shifting through his clothes.

"A very long time," Olsam said, completely oblivious to anything reserved about the other man's personality. "At least fifteen years. Although my family just came to visit me. They have a way or tracking you down, don't they? Or at least Bolian families do." He dropped his voice, as if speaking to himself. "No matter how hard you hide..." He perked back up almost immediately and picked up an errant PADD to give himself something to do with his hands. "Have you been away from Risa very long? What do you do? You're not a doctor, are you? We've already got too many of them, and they just keep sending more and more. I don't know what Dr. Allyndra is putting in her casualty reports, but they must think people get injured here right and left."

His tone was a soft and muted, but a bit robotic. "Yes, this ship does seem to suffer from a surplus of personnel, and an inefficient use of space." Arandon observed, his statement simplistic. He ignored the other comments about family and his home.

Olsam narrowed his eyes slightly, as if seeing his roommate for the first time. He quietly observed his movements for a brief moment and then moved on to his physical features, which seemed vaguely familiar in some way. Something about the cheekbones and the line of his earlobe tugged at a memory in Olsam's mind until it worked loose: Vulcanoid. Or, more accurately, Romulan, given the skin pigmentation. He remembered reading something about the variant of radiation produced by the star in the Romulus system giving a unique shade to Romulan skin. It explained a lot, given what he knew about Romulans. Were you supposed to tell a Romulan you knew they were a Romulan, he wondered? Probably not. Seemed like a good way to end up killed in your sleep and that wasn't really the way he saw himself going.

"Uh. Yes. Very inefficient," Olsam mumbled, trying not to ask a half-dozen questions about the curiosities of a Risan-Romulan hybrid. The internal arrangement of their organs, for one, had to be absolutely fascinating. His eyes kept darting to the medical tricorder sitting on the desk, but he managed to keep his hands from snatching it up. Barely. "Well... Uh. I suppose I should...you know...go do some doctor things, hm? Somebody has probably broken their ankle, or maybe I can rearranged Medcart B. Again. Just, let me know if you need anything. I'm right down the hall. In Sickbay. Three doors down. On the left."

Arandon simply nodded. "Yes, I should report to Commander Stace myself," Arandon continued unpacking his clothes. Gently taking them out and placing them on the bed. Once done with that, he would see Commander Stace. He also needed to unload the soil and plant samples he carried with him, but that could wait. He needed to decompress a little bit first. The Galileo was proving to be a bit stressful on the first day.

"Oh, right, she'd be expecting that," Olsam said, pausing in the door frame to cryptically add, "be sure to tell her hello for me and that her blue snookums misses her. Don't worry, she'll know what I mean."

[ OFF ]

Lieutenant Olsam Mott, M.D.
Assistant Chief Medical Officer
USS Galileo

Ensign Arandon Khnailmnae, Ph.D
Botany Specialist
USS Galileo

RSS Feed