Arboretum Excavations

Posted on 11 Mar 2015 @ 10:11pm by Lieutenant Oren Idris Ph.D. & Ensign Arandon Khnailmnae Ph.D.

3,551 words; about a 18 minute read

Mission: Episode 08 - NIMBUS
Location: USS Galileo, Deck 7, Arboretum
Timeline: MD -02, 08:30hrs

[ON]

Leaving Devin's office, Oren felt both relieved and worried. Despite the disparity of emotions, he was glad that, above all, he'd reached out to someone rather than closing himself inside of his quarters. The fact that he'd actually gotten dressed and made the walk towards her office felt like a good sign, like maybe this time he wouldn't spiral into the shell he was years ago.

Walking with Landi a step behind him, Oren led them to the Arboretum, making sure he took the long way there. Anything to fill in those empty fifteen hours. Coming into the artificial sunlight, Oren swallowed a small lump of anxiety forming in his throat, but without success. The Arboretum suddenly felt miles wide as he stepped into it, silently glad that at least he had Landi to focus on. Keeping his head down in the hopes of avoiding contact, he took a short stroll around the gardens before finally settling onto a bench, his legs crisscrossed under him. As his muscles relaxed, he realised just how tired he was. His limbs felt like lead when he reached down to unhook Landi's collar. Immediately, she jumped up onto the bench with him, nuzzling his arm.

"Go run around," he told her, putting her gently back on the ground. It took him a good three tries before she finally seemed to get what he wanted and began sniffing around. Oren leaned back on the bench, focusing his attention on Landi, and how simple her life seemed. He envied her, in a way, having no higher thought, no job to think about, no responsibility.

He watched her begin to dig in a spot several feet away, and shook his head. Paying her no mind for the time being, Oren took a look around the Arboretum for the first time since coming in. There weren't many people in, which he attributed to the time. When he looked back at Landi, Oren's eyes widened when he saw the flowers in her mouth.

"No, no,..." he began weakly as he scrambled to get off the bench. Half running to her, Oren kept his eyes on the nearby horticultural lab, hoping Van Zyl wasn't on duty there. The last thing he needed was for him to come out and begin a long lecture about respect and the circle of life or some other nonsense that somehow condemned flower picking. As Oren reached for the flowers in Landi's mouth, she barked, jumping around playfully, happy that her master seemed to take an interest in her again. Immediately, she jumped up on him, trying to lick at his face. Trying to fend her off, Oren attempted to undo the damage she'd done, but there was no hope for the small patch of hopefully decorative flowers.

Arandon looked up from his work tending to a group of samples he had planted a few days before. Writing in his leather bound, parchment volume in exacting detail, his concentration was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of paws on soil. Looking up, Arandon saw a dog now bounding around the Arboretum with a few plants in its mouth, trying to capture the attention of its owner, who's thoughts were... slow, sad in their ambient tone. In contrast the dog's thoughts were a hum of activity, giving off a pleasant if disorganized song. Getting up from his crouched position, Arandon walked over to the man and his dog.

"Are you having trouble?" Arandon asked, his tone was soft and muted, it wasn't angry at all at the disorganization of his Arboretum. Well he said his but that technically wasn't true. Not that anyone else seemed as adept at taking care of it though.

Trying to wrangle the puppy and get her to stay still, Oren turned to look over his shoulder at the offer of help. It came from a man he hadn't seen on board before. He looked tall, especially to Oren, who was kneeling down in the dirt. But somehow, he imagined the man would tower over him even if he stood up. Most men did.

"Who, me?" he asked rhetorically as Landi broke out of his grip and began digging into the dirt again, effectively sending half of it flying all over her owner. Coughing, Oren raised his hands to at least keep some of it off. "No trouble, she's just...lively," he managed, shaking his head as dirty flew into his blond hair.

Arandon nodded with a slight raise of his eyebrow, perhaps dissatisfied at the continuing destruction of the flowerbeds. One flower was excusable but perhaps digging up half the arboretum was another mater. "Yes I see. I wasn't aware we kept dogs aboard." The first part was dismissive in wording but not tone, the second part was a bit appreciative, despite the ongoing destruction.

"Yeah, I think there are two, including Landi," Oren answered, trying to get Landi to come closer. Desperate, he grabbed one of the dug up flowers and wave it at her in what he hoped was a tempting rhythm. "The other belongs to the Chief Engineer," he added, shoulders slumping when he realised Landi wasn't even looking at him anymore.

"Landi, come here!" Oren suddenly said, hoping his tone was hard and authoritarian. He failed miserably, as Landi only looked up at him and began wagging her tail while digging. It wasn't a surprise though, as Oren knew his relatively high pitched voice was hardly strict on the best of days. No matter how hard he tried, he always ended up sounding like a high strung teenager.

"Dogs are still animals, as cheerful and as loyal as they are." Arandon mused, his voice mumbling in parts. "Arandon Khnailmnae," He said with a nod of his head to Oren. "I'm a Botanist." He tacked on a smile.

Oren made a face, scrunching up his nose. "Sorry?" he attempted, hoping the smile was good natured. Although his empathy was out of whack at the moment, Arandon looked sincere. Suddenly remembering the man's introduction, he shook his head. "Oh! I'm Oren Idris. Anthropologist," he said, glancing back at Landi, who seemed to have stopped digging now that her master's attention was elsewhere.

"Tell me we didn't dig up something that saves lives," Oren said hopefully.

"Nothing grown for that explicit purpose no," Arandon said looking at Landi. "This area is purely cosmetic, the fact that some of these plants have medicinal qualities is incidental." His words continued to be academic but his voice was soft. "Of course it is unsightly." He added with a brief sigh.

Oren frowned, looking at the dug up mess. "I'm sorry," he said again, looking genuinely distressed at what Landi had done. "I'll help you fix it," he offered, smiling slightly.

Arandon was a bit hesitant to bring others in on the upkeep of the grounds, but these plants were purely cosmetic. Plus it wasn't hard to sift some dirt around was it? "All right," Arandon said softly with a small smile. "I'll get you a pair of gloves and a trowel." Arandon moved back over to the doorway of the Arboretum to grab some tools, leaving Oren to round up his dog.

Oren nodded, watching his leave before looking down at Landi again, who suddenly seemed less interested in the plants now that Oren's attention was elsewhere. Giving her a look, Oren lifted her up into his arms. She went easily enough, staring up at him as she panted happily. He had just finished trying her leash to the bench when he heard footsteps approaching again.

Arandon came back a little over a minute later, carrying two pairs of gloves and a sack of equipment. "Here," Aradon said, lobbing the gloves over to Oren. "We can plant seeds instead of transplanting specimens, time to do so anyway." Arandon walked over to the first in a series of spots Landi had dug up and set the sack down.

Oren caught to gloves and slipped them on. They were a little big but he said nothing out of politeness. After all, it wasn't a big deal, he could work with this. "I've never really done much gardening," he admitted, following Arandon's lead. "So, just tell me what to do?" he asked, glancing at Landi to check on her. She seemed relatively happy, scratching away at her neck nearby the bench.

"It's not hard." Arandon made a slight grunt as he kneeled down on the grass. "Just fill in the hole about half way, we'll work from there." He said, handing Oren a trowel with a slight smile. Arandon started working while Oren seemed to be a bit preoccupied, and was a bit hesitant to start working, letting Arandon take the lead. Sweeping the dug up soil into the hole, Arandon began to slip into a sort of blissful, repetitive motion, letting himself be engrossed in the simple physicality of reaping new life.

Taking the trowel, Oren took a moment to get used to the feel of it before starting to work. "This isn't usually the kind of digging I do," he said, feeling a need to fill in the silence between them. It was an annoying habit, one that he knew wasn't highly regarded among his people, but it was what it was. He wasn't in the mood to pretend.

"I'm an archaeologist, but I haven't been to an actual dig in decades," Oren admitted, taking a handful of dirt and smelling it, curious to see if the dirt in the Arboretum smelled any different from dirt on an actual planet.

"Decades, really?" Arandon said, glancing over for a moment before continuing to pile the soil into the hole. He wasn't surprised at Oren's youth, his own people lived for over 300 years, but he was surprised at a proclaimed archaeologist wouldn't have been on a dig for such a long period of time.

"Yeah, I've always been more interested in cultural anthropology," Oren admitted with a small shrug. "So my archaeological work was always just an extension of that," he explained, gathering up the dirt they would use for planting into neat little piles. "I enjoyed it...well, as much as someone can enjoy months on a dig on some colony no ones even heard of." Glancing over at Landi to check up on her again briefly, Oren went back to digging. "I do miss it sometimes though."

"Yes the physicality of science is a very intense feeling. It's methodical, and yet it's so satisfying." Arandon said with an unusually clear and vibrant tone. "What did your last field work involve, might I ask?"

"I was on the J'naii homeworld, trying to study the dynamics of the gendered subculture there, but one year wasn't nearly enough time for it. They're very reclusive and secretive about themselves. The entire experience, while professionally unsuccessful, was very enlightening, personally," Oren explained, thinking back to that year with the androgynous people. He'd never felt that mix of comfort and discomfort before in his life. He also hadn't felt it since and Oren had vowed to go back there at some point, perhaps after leaving the Galileo in a few years.

"Their culture is...oddly refreshing and incredibly confusing," Oren stated finally, shaking his head, putting the trowel aside as he awaited further instruction.

"I was the same way." Arandon gave a wide smile at his recognition of something of himself in another. "On Risa there were so many different tourists but they all came to experience my culture or a comfortable touristy version of it. When I came to theirs, there were so many things I wasn't familiar with. How to act, what to say, how to say it." The list was a long one so Arandon hoped he could condense it. "I didn't even know how to use their utensils or that a handshake was a greeting." Arandon said with a soft laugh.

Oren smiled back honestly. "I know what you mean. When I first came to Earth, I didn't really get how diverse it was," he explained, re-positioning himself on the glass so that his legs were crossed beneath him. "A lot of it was the same, because of globalization, I guess, but there were still some distinct differences which I had to learn the hard way."

"I've only been to Risa once, though," Oren continued, watching his companion curiously and mentally chastising himself for assuming he couldn't be from Risa. Sure, he didn't look the way one would have imagined a Risian to look but, as an Anthropologist, Oren should have known better than that. Maybe he was spending too much time in one place.

"I didn't enjoy it much, I think I was a little too young." And too shy and uncomfortable.

Arandon could barely process such a statement. Perhaps it was his Risian pride or his racial desire to please others but the thought of one not enjoying their time on Risa was unthinkable, nay, impossible for him to understand. "How?" He said, his voice soft and whispering, as if recovering from a large blow.

"I'm just...not a sexual person, so all of the sexuality made me uncomfortable because I was really insecure about it back then," Oren tried to explain, shifting nervously at the fact that he'd apparently caused offense. "I haven't had a chance to come back when I was older." That was only a slight lie, as Oren very much doubted he would enjoy a stay on Risa even today, sitting on the beach and watching people flirt and pair off. "I did enjoy the weather," he added quickly, wanting to at least say something positive.

Arandon peered at Oren for a moment and tried to listen more to his 'song'. The ambience of his thoughts were quick in tempo, but lacking in a certain dimension. They were soft and sensitive, like every thought that corresponded to a note was painful to reach. And then below that there was nothing, nothing were a certain something should be. What was there for everyone else, was not there for Oren, though Arandon could not describe what it was. "Sex can be a bit intimidating at first, but it's an essential expression of life." The word 'essential' was projecting Arandon's own theological and personal views but that was true for most people. "Of course I've found that aliens don't really know what sex is, it's... spiritual and psychological, more than it is physical." Arandon mused, working his hands into the soil as he did, as if pouring his words into the soil.

Oren watched Arandon out of the corner of his eye, thinking over what was said. Arandon's words were those he'd heard many times over many years and, while he was very comfortable with himself generally, the events of the last few days had left him vulnerable, like a open wound. So the words struck something deep inside of him, and Oren looked down at the ground, swallowing hard. They were difficult to hear, further feeding the thought that he was missing something vital to the normal life experience. Like a piece of equipment, coming off of the assembly line too early; unfinished work.

Oren said nothing in response. He didn't know what he could say without endangering the fragile piece of mind he'd found in the Arboretum. Instead, he poked at the soil weakly.

Arandon continued working, it wasn't quite clear if he was oblivious to the turmoil of his companion or, as was more likely, glossing over the melancholic sounds his thoughts were making. Arandon was likewise oblivious to the fact that he had caused offense, or perhaps he wasn't, most of what Arandon knew or actually perceived remained a mystery to people. He was like a well trained servant in some respects, he was a master at ignoring outbursts, burying the unpleasant and inventing the fantasy that it never happened. Arandon merely looked over for a moment and returned to his work.

Despite the awkward silence, Oren was grateful that Arandon didn't seem to want to pry, probably because he didn't really care. Oren dug around the soil for another few moments, until it was softer, easier to plant in. "So..." he finally managed, finding his voice. "What are we going to plant?" He didn't look up at Arandon though, keeping his eyes down on his gloves.

"Tulips," Arandon said with a bit of cheer, drawing out the 'u'. "Parrot tulips specifically." He said, gathering the bag of tulips from his satchel. "Make a little bowl in the soil, put the seed in, pour some water in," Arandon said placing a watering can between them. "And pull some soil over it, lightly packing it in."

Oren nodded, doing as he was told. He stared down at the small bulb he'd taken from the satchel. He ran a gloved thumb over the smooth, brown surface, letting his mind wander over the fact that something so beautiful sprang from a simple thing like this. "What colour?" he asked, taking a handful of soil before putting the bulb into the hole and pouring a little water over it once Arandon finished with the can.

"If all goes well, blue." Arandon said with a bit of a coo in his voice, more than a bit delighted at testing his genetic sequence for these flowers. The ability to create pure blue tulips had come long ago and every bored Botanist did it but Arandon was trying this particular hue, which also coded for flecks of white and pink.

Oren nodded. He didn't know anything about tulips, or flowers in general, beyond the fact that some of them were more beautiful than others. Curious, he crawled forward a little, staining his knees as he settled next to Arandon. "Is there anything we can do to make sure it goes well?"

"No not at this juncture," Arandon explained, pulling some soil over another bulb. "When they sprout, yes. Then you have to watch for the way the stems grow, how much light they're getting, how much water, things like that." He said.

"Demanding little things aren't they?" Oren commented without much thought, staring down at the soil. Taking his gaze away from it, the El-Aurian looked up at Arandon, studying his features. He looked relatively young, the same way Oren did. In fact, looking at them from the side, he imagined most people would think they were peers. He was good looking, Oren saw that, with fairly symmetrical features and an overall pleasant looking face, if a little expressionless. At least, it was in comparison to his own face, Oren imagined. He'd learned pretty early in life that he'd be terrible at gambling and lying, because every emotion he experienced somehow made an impression in his features, whether it was his whole face, or just his eyes.

"In a way," Arandon said, slipping into a mumbling tone of voice, concentrating on his work. Arandon continued to space the bulbs at geometric intervals away from one another, giving them amble room to grow. "Though I suspect archaeological digs also require a deft hand, and extreme patience." His tone was still mumbling though it wasn't exactly clear if he was still focused on his work.

"Well, luckily, I've always had patience," Oren said, tilting his head as he watched Arandon inquisitively. He was strange, Oren decided and immediately felt closer to him, but as the feeling stirred in him, he immediately pushed it down. He'd felt the same kinship with several others on the ship and that certainly hadn't amounted to anything good. "Deft hands do require practice though. I broke a lot vases when I began..."

"Nothing important I hope," If it was said differently, it might have been a joke, or perhaps it was and had fallen victim to Arandon's very professional tone of voice, that lent itself well to small talk. There was a particular undercurrent of warmth though, different than his normal tone. In his own way Arandon was enjoying the simple aspect of gardening and inconsequential conversation, it befitted the beautiful garden around them. No cares, nor worries.

The corner of Oren's mouth quirked up a bit and he said, "Well, the cracks make them look more authentic anyway." With that, he settled down in the grass again, watching the little piles of dirt where they'd planted the tulips. Inside, he mirrored Arandon's thoughts on how peaceful it was there in the Arboretum, digging around the dirty with a stranger. No expectations or hidden agendas.

"This is nice," Oren finally said, using his hand to make the small pile in front of his neater.

Arandon gave a wide smile. "Indeed it is Oren." He said, making another indent in the soil.

Sometimes it was the small things that got one through the more turbulent periods of one's life. In some ways it was like recovering childhood. Digging through the dirt, fooling around in the sun in a pleasant meadow, it was something out of an old poem. It was light and airy, without care or concern. It lifted the spirit by not burdening it with anything else.

[OFF]

JP by

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

Ensign Arandon Khnailmnae Ph.D.
Botanist
USS Galileo

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