Do You Hear What I Hear?

Posted on 04 Feb 2013 @ 5:11am by Trija Natyal
Edited on on 04 Feb 2013 @ 5:21am

1,054 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Episode 03 - Frontier
Location: USS Galileo: LTjg Liyar's Office
Timeline: MD1 1540 Hours

ON:

I feel that life is / sorrowful and unbearable / though / I cannot fly away / since I am not a bird.

Liyar looked down at his plant and frowned. Poetry truly made little sense to him. Vaikreyan appreciated it, and most of the time they spent together was Vaikreyan reciting snatches of phrases. These ones were Japanese. You'll like them. Don't worry.

"I am Vulcan. I do not -"

Hush. Look, you can count it. Try again. yakumo tatsu / Izumo yaegaki / tsumagomi ni / yaegaki tsukuru / sono yaegaki wo.

Vaikreyan was mystifying him a little more every day. "I do not keep my 'bride' anywhere," he muttered to himself as she translated.

No, no. Susanoo's happy to be married. He's invoking protection, using the number eight.

"Yet, the common belief is that such tanka are merely utterances, notes." Liyar paused and grabbed the spray bottle, twisting it to mist-mode. An oddly acidic mixture, but it was necessary.

No, the content isn't important - watch it! Those are delicate. Oh, Liyar. Look, look, look. Count with me. 5-7-5-7-7 - snap. Snap. Snap. Feel it?

Liyar felt a little like someone was dancing in his head. Unusual -

He looked up, realizing that someone was standing by the door.

Trija Natyal strode through, watching the Vulcan tend to his plants. "Is there a particular reason you're talking to that plant?" she asked as she came to a stop in front of his desk. She held up her hand in a half-wave half-salute thing before dropping it abruptly. "Lieutenant. Trija Natyal, Federation News Network. I trust you've heard of our coming aboard."

"Affirmative," Liyar said.

Careful! Oh, she's so moody. And she's blue? Really? Are you seeing alright?

"Quite blue, I assure you," Liyar mumbled under his breath. "5-7-7-5-7-7, if you take the last compilation into account." He hit the desk in some kind of tempo. "Passing across / The new land of Tsukuba, / How many nights did we sleep? / Counting my fingers, / It has been nine times by night / And will be ten times by day. There is a decided break, right there."

Trija stared at him. "What in the name of the Deities are you talking about?"

No, no, no. 3 lines. 19 onji. 5 onji, 7 onji, and a third line equal to the 2nd. See? It's a prop! You need rhythm, Liyar. You're so out of tune, Vaikreyan clucked. At least, that's what she would do if she weren't a plant.

"My apologies. Vaikreyan requires mental stimulation each day or else she profoundly wilts." He stood and straightened up, placing the mist bottle on the shelf.

Trija boggled. She could see that those reports of the insane Vulcan Liyar were not exaggerated. He was talking to his plants. She remembered her mother, a gardener of her own House, telling her the best Livers talked to everything. But Trija was not on Betazed and neither was Liyar. Surely a Vulcan couldn't be Alive. "You're talking to a plant," she said flatly.

"I believe I said that. Miss Natyal," he offered her the ta'al.

Vaikreyan wasn't fussed either way. Of course no one believed she was sentient. It didn't help that her handler was a grown Vulcan accused of mental illness, either. Who cared? Everybody's a little crazy. She hailed from Anvsar IX. They took years to learn not to step on her root system, even with the connection they had to their planet. If these feet-people were going to talk over her, she was just going to keep talking, too! Many clouds unfurled / rise at cloud-decked Izumo; / Round you spouse to hold / raise many folded barriers / like those barriers manifold, she zapped it through their connection. 5-7; 5-7-7.

"5-7; 5-7; 7," Liyar corrected.

"Five seven?" Trija had the feeling that she'd walked down the rabbit hole. Liyar was reading a PADD and sipping tea as though nothing were happening at all.

"Vaikreyan is under the impression that I should appreciate poetry." He did not.

"Well, we can't all be winners?" Trija blinked. "Here." She pressed her own PADD across the desk. "And those are the first five requests we have for an officer escort."

If Liyar weren't a Vulcan, he might have shrunk. He was going to wilt, at this rate. Evelyn hated them all, and everybody else was busy with the Rojar surveys. His were almost complete. It was going to be him. He just knew it. Hush, tiny-Vulcan. It's fine. See? All fine. You've got too many barriers. You're all so tense. Relax. Nobody's wilting. Kotosara-ni medatsu hana nashi tsubaki-kana, she reminded him fondly.

Liyar took the PADD, shuffling his behind and reading it thoughtfully. "Affirmative. Your requests will be processed shortly. If you have any additional questions, I will attempt to answer them."

"We'd also like a list of people who are willing to be interviewed."

"A memo is circulating," Liyar nodded. "Once we obtain responses, I will compile the list." There were so many lists.

"Okay. Well. I'll let you... get back to your plant." Trija shook her head to herself and quietly backed out. Whether or not he noticed, she couldn't tell. He didn't look up from the PADD again. The door closed. Without his presence, she could almost feel the air shift and change, returning to normal phase. This was a terribly unusual ship. If they couldn't get any real stories, at least it would be interesting enough for them. She disappeared into the turbolift.

old pond / a frog leaps into / the water of sound / on a bare branch / a crow settles down / autumn dusk. Vaikreyan asked him thoughtfully as the blue lady ducked out. Her discomfort clung to the air. Liyar shook his head. Try again. Listen closely.

OFF:

Lieutenant (JG) Liyar
Diplomatic Officer, VDF/SDD
USS Galileo

Trija Natyal
Assistant Producer, FNN
USS Galileo
(PNPC Liyar)

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