Simple Matter Assemblage

Posted on 03 Feb 2013 @ 9:33am by Raifi Zaren

3,352 words; about a 17 minute read

Mission: Episode 03 - Frontier
Location: USS Galileo: Deck 4, Arboretum
Timeline: MD01: 1640 hrs

[ON]

He'd read as many of the reports and rules as he could stand; it wasn't that he didn't appreciate that they were trying to keep their work unaffected by the presence of outsiders. He knew very well that having a journalist watching you over you shoulder was at the least distracting and at the most rage-inducing. But being restricted from entire decks and treated like he was five and this was his first time on a starship was... enormously frustrating. And he was not in the mood to sit around and listen to Jool whine about her hair.

So. Food. Food was always an excellent answer. And fortunately, they'd at least allowed him to go to the mess hall. At 1640, Raifi had been hoping there would be some officers in the mess hall, well into their meals and ready for a little R&R. A game of tongo wouldn't have gone amiss. Or poker. Spades. Bridge. Chess. Anything really. A little friendly action. But instead, the mess hall was relatively quiet. Not much laughter or merriment here. He was used to the wild bars and restaurants on the station, or the ships during the war where every sought to let off steam. But here it seemed like actually came to... eat. And they all seemed so introspective. Well, it was the start of a new mission; an amazing mission. They probably had a lot to think about.

Grabbing a large mug of hot chocolate from the replicator, he wandered out again, looking around vaguely. It was too early to go back to his quarters and he was too wired. Slurping some of the chocolate, he wandered to the turbo lift. He needed to find an officer, someone who could let him in to some of the rest of the ship. It wasn't like he was looking for anything in particular, but he was curious. Why shouldn't he be? He'd never been on a Nova. The turbolift took him directly to Deck 4 without him asking - and why not, when that was the only other place he was allowed to go? Strolling out, he considered going to the Sickbay. Despite the chill they inevitably had, he always felt comfortable among biobeds and medical officers. It was like coming home. But it was his first night on board and there was plenty of time for all of it. With another slurp, he turned and headed directly into the arboretum.

As he stood under the hologram-induced pale blue sky, Zaren breathed in. Air was always fresher near greenery, no matter how good the oxygen replication systems on the ships were. And there was a lot you could tell about a ship from its garden. How well maintained it was. What sort of plants they carried. Where there were... animals on board, he quirked a brow at the small hole dug near the entryway. Tucking his thumbs in his pockets, he wandered onto the grass. Nice give. Well built. Pleasing slope. An unfamiliar grass, but still sweet and bright. Like a good dry white wine. And there was a woman, kneeling beside a bush with a pair of pruning shears who looked like she was considering stabbing him with them. More and more interesting. "Hi," he said with a casual wave.

Maenad's duty shift had ended almost an hour ago. Another long and arduous day spent mostly on the bridge. Getting away from her console and monotony, she'd decided to come putter around in the arboretum. The roses needed pruning after all, and she loved the outdoors. Lightyears from Earth, this was the closest she could get. She was snipping away near the base one of the larger bushes, thinking to herself that the roses had come out in a beautiful bright red.

She was glad to be alone. It felt real enough, too. The only thing that reminded her that it wasn't real was the faint rumble of the ship's engines, which also reminded her that there was a whole crew all around her too. Then the sound of someone saying hi confirmed that she was hardly by herself at all. Maenad looked up from her pruning and saw someone she'd never seen before.

What was he? She was on her knees, staring up at him. He was quite tall, too. And covered in tattoos. So many tattoos. And his nose was pierced. She narrowed her eyes; he wasn't in a uniform, and she had never seen him before. The first impression that she got was that he had a rotten attitude, despite his very cordial greeting. "Is there something that I can help you with?" she asked, holding her shears with both hands against one of her thighs. Her sleeves were rolled up past her elbows, and one of her arms was visibly scratched from a thorn.

"I'm positive you could." He breathed deep, then sighed, "No lida trees."

She held her eyes on him, trying to figure him out. Either she wasn't very perceptive or he wasn't very clear, and since she was always perceptive she deduced that it was the latter. "No," she agreed. "What do you need?"

"Conversation that isn't about hairsprays. I'll take any other topic." He nodded to the rose bush beside her, "Those are Terran roses, aren't they? I've only ever seen the Bajoran variety in person. Fewer thorns on these."

"Maybe," she thought, but then looked down the underside of her left arm. A long red scratch arced from her elbow to her wrist. It looked worse than it was because of her skin's whiteness. "But equally as damaging." She'd cut it while pruning the inside of the bush, and it stung. "What can I help you with, Mister...?"

"No 'mister'. Raifi Zaren," he introduced himself. "Or just Zaren," he eyed the scratch on her arm. It was a flesh wound and not too deep, but it couldn't have been comfortable nonetheless. "And you're not Donald Zimm, unless I've lost my sense of Terran naming customs. Have a medkit in here somewhere?"

Maenad rolled her sleeve down to hide the scratch, ignoring his mention of a medkit as she rose to a stand. She laughed a little, "No, I'm not Donald Zimm. I am Maenad Panne. Are you looking for him?" Maenad licked her lips. "I don't recognise you, I'm sorry," she said with a politely curious frown. She knew that his tattoos and piercings were definitely not Starfleet-sanctioned.

Panne - the Chief Science Officer. The last time he'd spoken with a Chief Science Officer for a Starfleet vessel, it had been Eve. Things changed. "I am now that I know there's no lida in here. There's a wide variety of uses for the tree - the bark is healing, the berries are delicious, the leaves are fragrant." He paused, "There's no reason for you to recognize me. Unless you've been following the FNN coverage of the Romulan refugee situation..." he searched her expression.

"Oh," The News, "Well, I..." Maenad laughed, shifting on her feet. "There are quite a few Trill on the ship. We do have lida seeds in storage; maybe we should get same lida trees in here." She anxiously scratched at the back of her neck, looking down at his feet. No, she hadn't been following the Romulan refugee situation. For the past two years the news only ever talked about Romulan refugee this, Romulan refugee that - she had gotten sick of it. "If you want some fruit, I can give you some," she smiled, then winced from behind closed eyes. "I mean, I can show you how to work the replicator." Stupid, she called herself. "They must have lidas; I am sure that they do."

It was a new ship. Maybe their replicators worked differently or better than the older ships he'd been on. Starfleet did seem to always be upgrading. "I'd appreciate it; have you tried them before?" He rubbed his hands together, "As for the seeds, yes. I'm a fair hand at gardening myself; I had a lida tree on Trill. Well, Arjin and Velen both did. But I'm fairly certain I could manage it, perhaps assist your botanist. It'll give me something to do other than moan over not having access to more of this ship." He looked around, "Aside from the lack of lida, you've got a nice place here. The ground slope is far better than any of the arboretum's I've been in recently. Although, I think you might have voles."

"Thank you," she said, dropping the shears by her feet. Vole, vole... she wasn't familiar with the term, but wasn't ready to quite ask what a vole was. She led the way by implication toward the arboretum office, leading him past several flower and vegetable patches - the 'forest' and woods were on the opposite side. At the top of a very small hill was a long single level windowed building, but the building was in fact no building at all. The holographic sky extended down the walls into a false horizon, which made it appear as though the building, which was actually a series of offices, was a standalone structure. It was really just built into the wall of the arboretum, but it didn't look that way. The doors slid open to reveal a complex mainframe of computers which regulated the arboretum's many complicated atmospheric and environmental conditions.

The room was longer much than it was wide; various consoles and displays were situated beneath the windows that looked outside, and several larger master system displays showing maps of power distribution, humidity, hydration, air currents, temperatures, and others, were displayed on the wall opposite the window. There was another door, however, immediately across from the office entrance which Maenad led them through. Here was a staff room with a couch and chairs, a fold-out table for eating, and a bathroom. One wall was lined with lockers, and there doors to several supply and storage rooms. There was a replicator on the wall nearest the folding table.

"It's quite easy," Maenad told him. "All you do is as stand next to it and tell it what you want. If it's on file, it will appear. It doesn't produce alcohol or weapons without proper clearance or programming, but it has pretty much every food you could ever dream of," she explained, staring at the materialisation pad. She turned to him with a bit of a smile. "Give it a try," she stepped back, hands clasped at her lap.

She thought he'd never used a replicator before. Interesting. "One bowl of lida, washed and cold," he spoke firmly, then waited as the bowl of berries materialized on the pad. He plucked one from the bowl and chewed thoughtfully. Not as off as they usually were, but still, "Go on," he said, encouraging her to try one. "Do you know if these replicators create the actual chemical makeup of the items, or just a general imitation?"

"The whole thing," she said to him, reaching into the bowl for a lida. "It's identical to a real lida." Maenad rose it to her mouth but stopped. "It's simple matter assemblage," she said with a shrug, then popped it into her mouth and bit down. She wasn't expecting the crunch of the pit, which made her cringe. And then came the sourness; easily one of the sourest foods she'd ever eaten, and her face showed it. Maenad swallowed, then spat the pit into her hand. "To answer your question; no, I have never had one before," she pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, trying to push out the sourness.

He hissed. "I always forget about Terran sensitivities, here-" he turned to the replicator. "Small bowl of sugar." He nabbed the bowl as it appeared and held it to her, "Try a pinch. It'll help."

She did only out of courtesy, and sprinkled some into her mouth. It was impressive how well it worked. "And you eat these all the time?"

"When I can get them," he nodded. "They're excellent for your health. They're good for the skin, improve circulation, increase melatonin levels to even out sleep cycles, lower blood sugar levels, and if you eat about twenty, they can reduce pain in the absence of a good hypospray." He paused. Thank you, Selik. "That, and they're delicious. Although they're usually more tart than this. It may have to do with ripeness."

Maenad nodded as he spoke. Whatever their benefits, the lida was not going to enter her daily palette. "Well, now you know how to get them," was all she could think of to say. She led the way back outside through the office and had to squint at the sudden change in brightness.

Zaren poured the lida into his pockets and took a sip from his cooling chocolate, following her back out into the arboretum. "See," he said, pointing to a small hole in the dirt near them. "Voles."

There was that word again. Perhaps her English wasn't as good as she thought. It was rare that she didn't know her vocabulary. Sure enough, there was a hole in the grass. Probably the size of her hand, she thought. Maybe he meant hole, she wondered. "Yes, I wonder how that... hole... got there," she said, looking down at it with her hands on her hips. She squatted to get a closer look. It didn't lead anywhere, either; it was just a hole. Like it had been dug. She frowned. "I wonder who did this," she said.

"Animal," Selik asserted in Zaren's mind. "See here," he pointed to where the dirt had little hooked grooves. "Paws. Flat with shallow nails. So... voles, moles, rahikis, schverogs, dogs... diggers."

Aha! That was exactly who'd done this. Stone and that damned dog. She narrowed her eyes, looking up from the hole as the realisation dawned on her. "It was a dog," she said to no one. Maenad stood up, pushing some of the dirt back into the hole with her foot. She looked at Zaren. "So, what are you going to say about us?" The question shot off like it was a perfectly natural thing to say.

"No idea as yet," he answered gamely. "I haven't met anyone yet. Well, Eve, but I haven't seen her in years, so I can't make too many assumptions there." He straightened from the hole, dusting off his knees, "What would you like me to say?"

Was there any nice way to answer that? Maenad held her silence for a moment, until she realised that she had to say something; she couldn't just ignore him. "Good things," she said, glancing at him. "I don't know, is that a trick question?"

"Was yours?" he asked with half-grin. "Honestly, there's nothing I can say unless I find out information. And then substantiate it. I came because a source informed me about the Rojar system and- I've been around a long time, but I've never seen any land that's completely uncultivated; even in the wilds of Bajor, there are footpaths. So if there's something positive, something inspiring, that I can share then I'll try my best to fit it in." He paused. "You can think about it. No need to answer now. I'd love to get your take on the system as we go along, though."

Maenad pursed her lips as she watched him talk. It was only a matter of time before he started talking about the real reason he'd come. She sighed, quietly. Whatever hopes she'd had for Zaren, it felt like she'd had some, they floated away like steam off a cup of tea. Everyone was interested in resources, money, finances, economics, profits. It disgusted her. He was sent to report how all the Federation's resource extractors could suck Rojar dry. "Yes, well," she muttered, "I will see what I can do."

"Won't we all," Zaren murmured, watching her curiously. "I don't suppose you play tongo."

That was that Ferengi game where you had to get as rich as possible. She hadn't played it for years, probably because she hated it. "I haven't played in a very long time," she admitted, feeling a tingle in her throat.

"What do you do then?" he asked. "I mean, in your off hours. In anyone's. I've never seen a ship this quiet."

"Well I..." she stopped herself. She didn't even know him. Who did he think he was? "I don't know, I read? Sit? Whatever I feel like. What do you do, other than looking for lidas to sour human mouths with?"

"I was looking for them for my own mouth, actually," he corrected. "Let's see. I write. I play the belaklavion. I meditate. I read the news. Look after my bonsai tree - she's a little over a hundred now, but I had to send her back to Trill while I'm here. I find people I don't know and talk to them about anything I can. So. What do you read?" He pointed to the rose bushes, "And do you need a hand?"

A small, real, smile broke on her otherwise indifferent face. She turned around to look at the rose bush he was pointing at. "Oh," she said, turning back to face him, "No, that is quite all right; I had just finished when you came in. But, you the play the belaklavion? And you have a bonsai tree that's a hundred years old?" Her interest was obviously piqued.

"A little over," he agreed. "Wretha, one of Velen's son's named her. She's a hundred and twenty...six now. Beautiful. And yes. Do you play?"

"Wow," she mouthed, "That's incredible. Is it very big?" Maenad asked, her eyes darting between his. "I wish I could play the belaklavion; it's such a beautiful instrument. I can hardly play the piano sometimes," she smiled, her cheeks turning a very pale shade of pink.

"It's... do you want to see it?" he asked, the way a doting parent might offer pictures of their child. "I've got a few shots of her on my PADD. But you play the piano," he mused. "That's brilliant. What sort of music do you play?"

Maenad smiled at hearing that. She'd never heard of someone keeping photos of their plant with them. "Yes, sure," she said. "I don't really play that well," she told him. If she said that she did, this Zaren might want to hear her play for him, and she would have to invite him to her quarters. She wasn't even supposed to like him. "I try to play classical," she shrugged. "Where are you bonsai pictures? You didn't really bring them with you," she said a little jokingly.

"They're on my PADD. Which is back in the VIP suite. As is the belaklavion." He grinned. "I got bored on one-eight-five. Would you like to see?"

Maenad's shoulders rose. If she weren't a grown woman, she might have clenched her in front of her chest too. "It is? You brought the klavion?" she smiled. "Yes I would very much like to see it," she insisted.

"Come on then," he led the way towards the door and nibbled on one of the lida from his pocket. "So. Classical. How long have you played?"

"Since I was little," she began as they walked out of the arboretum. Later, someone would find and grumble about the pruning shears she'd left in the grass beside the rose bush - the rose bush she'd not finished pruning despite her telling Zaren that she had. The work gloves she'd had on were next to them, and the pile of clipped branches and leaves was still there too. It had been a long time since Maenad had heard the sound of a real belaklavion, though.

[OFF]

Raifi Zaren
FNN Journalist
USS Galileo
(pNPC Lilou Peers)

Lieutenant (JG) Maenad Panne
Chief Science Officer
USS Galileo

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