A Cultural Exchange

Posted on 16 Apr 2015 @ 9:22pm by Lieutenant Oren Idris Ph.D. & Chief Petty Officer Pax Inyo

2,406 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: Episode 08 - NIMBUS
Location: USS Galileo, Deck 3, Security Offices
Timeline: MD -03, 1400hrs

[ON]

With Landi fed and taken care of, Oren immediately set about his daily plans. He needed to get some literature on Klingons, their culture and language and then all but lock himself in his office studying. But before all of that, there was one person Oren had been dying to meet since the night before so, without further stalling, he immediately made his way up one deck to security office, a place he rarely went to.

Pax had already been in overdrive while everyone had been on leave and she'd had little else to occupy herself with which left little to do in the armory, save for some old repair projects and stock rotation. She had finished her last patrol walk and been relieved and was now drawing up some training plans and looking through crew files to see who she should send memos to about their firearms certs.

She heard footsteps. "With you in a sec." She said, not looking up from the console while she finished a line.

"I want to buy you a drink," Oren announced after walking up to the console and resting his hands on it. He hadn't expected a Grazerite on the ship when he'd finally managed to track down who the performer was from the night before. He'd been so impressed by her gall that he couldn't wait to meet her.

"Well, hey, how could I pass that up?" It was then that she looked up and saw the drink offer-er had a baby face that made her believe whatever he could buy her would be virgin. She leaned an arm on the desk. "I've seen you around. With sciences, right?"

"Yep!" Oren said, rocking on his feet with his hands now planted behind his back. "Oren Idris, pleased to meet you. I was so impressed with your song last night, I had to come and see you!" he said excitedly.

"Chief Inyo. Call me Pax." She took a polite little bow while seated. "Nice to meet you too Mr. Idris. I'm wrapping up here anyway. Let's scoot." She stood up while she locked up the computer console access, logged off the clock and then bent down to sling her lute case over her shoulder.

Smiling, Oren took a few steps back and watched her get ready. "Just call me Oren," he said politely, falling into pace with her as they left the offices. "Do you always carry that with you?" He motioned to the instrument at her back.

"Not always, but often. I've had a song brewing for a while so I brought it along today. Glad I did too. We had a long wait earlier with getting out of dock. Gotta have some way to pass the time."

"I couldn't agree more," Oren replied with a nod. "I usually practice my dance moves or read poetry." With a cheeky grin, he nudged Pax. "Unless my boss walks in. Then I'm studying ancient manuscripts and brushing up on my etiquette."

"Dance is etiquette. Poetry. Manuscript. Same difference. I can't see how you could get into any trouble there. What is it you do then? Some sort of Anthropologist?"

Oren nodded. "Yes. Socio-cultural anthropologist and archaeologist," he confirmed. "Not the most exciting fields, but I like them. Can't really imagine myself doing anything else." 'At least for now,' Oren added mentally. After 50 years in the field, he was beginning to wonder if maybe it was time to move on to something else.

"Not exciting? That's like solving ancient mysteries and telling all their old myths and folklore and figuring out how they got along, right? Sounds exciting enough to me."

"I think so too, but not a lot of people take it seriously," Oren explained with a small shrug. "I have to say, I don't know much about your culture."

"I'm guessing you mean Grazer. Most people in Starfleet are more or less familiar with Earth, anyway." They came to the lounge and Pax looked around. "I could try to answer any questions. But I gotta tell you, I'm probably not the first person they want representing the planet to others."

Oren chuckled. "In my experience, those are usually the people you want to talk to," he said, spotting an empty table before leading them both there, still talking.

"Besides, I don't think one person can really represent a planet. It's too diverse, even the small ones. Something that's good on one island, can get your arm chopped off on another," he pointed out in a tone much lighter than most would use when discussing such matters.

"Don't I know it." Pax muttered with a twinkle in her eye.

As they settled at the table, Oren looked sheepishly at the menu, then at Pax. "Um, you might want to be the one getting the drinks, since I can't order alcohol."

Pax had guessed as much by his looks. "Alright, be right back." Pax went to the bar and waited a minute, returning to their table with two glasses of hard cider. She wasn't sure if she'd get into trouble for getting one drink for a minor, but she'd had alcohol well before 21 and never gotten into any trouble over it. But she was a little confused. "So how old are you anyway? I mean, it's a real feat to become a bonafide scientist before you're old enough to buy your own hooch."

"Not if you're seventy-five," Oren pointed out with a small shrug. "I'm El-Aurian, so I'm still considered a minor by my peoples standards." He looked down at the drink she'd brought and cautiously glanced around for a moment before taking a small sip. As the liquid hit his palate, he felt goosebumps explode all over his arms and legs.

"Oh, well, that explains a lot!" She laughed. "You're more than twice my age, old timer. So I'm not sure what you already know about Grazer. I'm actually distantly related to former president Jaresh-Inyo, who is probably the most well known Grazerite. My dad worked in his administration, but that was when I was a kid. You were probably in your 60s then."

"Oh, stop, you're making me feel old," Oren joked, smiling widely at her. "I don't really know much about Grazer. There are so many cultures, even with my lifespan, I'd still end up only being familiar with a fraction of them," he admitted. Thinking, he tried to come up with a question to begin with.

"I haven't met many Grazer. Is it common for you to leave your homeplanet or colonies? Or have I just not been paying attention?"

"Grazerites mostly stick to the home front, but they're here and there in Starfleet. More of us travel with the peace, diplomatic corps, or science and research divisions, that sort of thing. It's unlikely you'll find many others in Security roles, but there's been a few. I've never found myself on the same posting with another Grazerite though. Not sure what the stats on our enlisting in Starfleet actually are. My turn, let me ask a question. "She took a sip of her cider and looked thoughtful. "Is it true that some El Aurians made their home on Earth long before Earth officially ever made first contact with the Vulcans?"

"Um..." Oren blushed, his pale skin turning quite a few shades darker than usual. "I'm afraid I'm the wrong person to ask. I never met another El-Aurian besides my parents and they left their homeworld a long time before I was born. I was born on Bajor, just before the Occupation." Feeling embarrassed without really having a reason for it, Oren's shoulders slumped slightly. "I'm sorry," he said, unsure what he was apologizing for. After all, it wasn't his fault he was born on Bajor, or that he had no real connection to his own culture.

"Sure you are. Just another alien conspiracy cover up story!" She jested, trying to cheer Oren up and not let him slump into some sad sounding memories. "Ask me another question then, since you don't want to give away the truth about El Aurians running the Illuminati."

Oren giggled despite his discomfort. "Alright. What about gender roles? Are there any?"

"Yeah, more or less what Earth considers 'traditional' too. But a little less dichotomy between the genders. Able, working women are revered and patient and nurturing men are not considered effeminate, necessarily. I think it's because of the value they put on the home. Most homes are two parent things. I mean, you know how in human culture, voting age is traditionally 18? Well, on Grazer you can't vote in local politics unless you've had a kid. There's exceptions for infertility now but there didn't used to be. But even at that, there's a lot of shared parenting between the birth parents and the extended family. We call it the upsol, kind of like a family clan. The Grazerite word for Father is the same as for Uncle and Aunt is the same for Mother. But kids tend to use a familiarized version to distinguish their own folks."

"That must make for an interesting dynamic. Is adoption common or does the extended family take custody of children whose parents pass away?" Oren leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, listening intently.

"Oh definitely the family takes them in. If their parents married outside the upsol they have two upsols that could take them in. They don't even officially need to adopt like they do on Earth when a kid goes to live with her uncle. I don't think they have their own word for orphan originally. They seem to have adopted the term from federation standard. I never really thought about it, but now that you point it out, I never met someone without an upsol on Grazer. It probably happens sometimes though since extended families are getting smaller now a days. I guess Grazer's population is declining. They're really worried about it. I don't see why."

"Well, a lot of people worry about declining populations. Usually it's more complicated that it seems. The decline is mostly a combination of declining fertility rates and migrations. Lots of people leave their homeworld to explore the Universe, and they're usually young people. Some stay away," Oren explained, then shrugged, sipping his drink more carefully this time.

"You think after centuries of fretting about famines and overpopulation everybody would be glad for the elbow room."Pax shrugged off her Lyre strap and slid the instrument out to twiddle at the strings. "I guess it's even more pronounced for ElAurians though." Softly she ran up and down the scales and through a short melody. "You said you grew up on Bajor? I hear they have some wicked mountain ranges in one of the provinces."

Oren smiled. "Yes. Dahkur province has some beautiful mountains. My mother used to take me there before the Occupation, for camping trips and hikes. I used to love it. He'd go fishing, she'd set traps to catch small game we'd cook." His smile grew slightly as he spoke. Those were fond memories, some of the rare few he still remembered clearly before the shadow of the Occupation tainted them.

"Sounds like my idea of a perfect vacation. You'll have to take me sometime. On Grazer, most of the prized and populated regions are prairie like, or hill country, but there's some mountain ranges and A lot of Grazerites go on climbing expeditions. I try to go mountain climbing every time I visit. It's one of the things I like most about the place."

"Sure, I can be your guide," Oren suggested with a small smile. "But if you want to hunt, I'm afraid you'll be on your own. I don't think I could do it anymore, catch a little critter and kill it." Oren shuddered at the very thought.

Pax nodded. "It's not for everyone. I respect your sensitivities. All the same, fried fresh caught fish is hard to beat." She said while she strummed.

"I don't like the texture. Meat in general just make me feel sick to my stomach," Oren admitted, scrunching up his nose in disgust. "I mean, even replicated, when I know it doesn't come from an animal it just makes me feel...wrong."

"More for me. You'd get along great at a dinner buffet on Grazer. They don't fancy killing anything for food besides some unfortunate plant matter. They even debate about the feelings of plants now and again. Not sure what we'd digest then. Rocks or something." She stopped strumming a moment to swig her cider. "You're the anthropologist. What's the weirdest thing you ever heard of people eating?"

"Each other," Oren replied immediately, taking another sip of his cider. "There's a culture on a small world at the end of the Beta quadrant that me and a team of anthropologists observed a few years ago. They honoured their dead by eating them."

"That reminds me of those Earth stories of natives eating people's organs to possess extra senses and strength and things. Pretty freaky." She cleared her throat and jokingly started to sing something that came to mind.

"Give me your heart, little darlin'
We can forget this world ever happened
Move on with our lives
Give me your heart little darlin'
We can get up, get out, get started
Move on with our lives
Oh in regard to your respect
I can pay you a last one
And if you want to know what to expect
When I creep up carefully"
Pax strummed sharply and then mimed like she was holding a knife like a creeping cannibal, smirked, singing the rest...

"Cuz I don't understand it
This is not my fault
This is you, this is me, meeee-ee-e-e"
Give me your heart!
Get up, get out get started..."

Oren laughed, charmed. "You're very good at that!" he complimented. "I could never learn to play anything, no matter how much my parents and teachers tried. And it usually takes at least three drinks for me to start singing."

"Well, bottoms up then and let's pour another."

Grinning from ear to ear, Oren raised up his glass to her.

"Hear hear."

OFF
JP by

Oren Idris, Ph.D.
Archaeologist/Anthropologist
USS Galileo

And

CPO Pax-Inyo
Master-at-Arms
USS Galileo

Lyrics adopted from The Avatars "Give Me Your Heart"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7rKj6YLbTkI

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