Gifts

Posted on Thu Nov 19th, 2020 @ 4:41am by Lieutenant JG Ryan Kade III

Mission: Season 4: Episode 2: Rest And Relaxation
Location: USS Elysium - Deck 6, Holodeck 2
Timeline: Day 1 - 16:00
1131 words - 2.3 OF Standard Post Measure

Blue and white granite paved the path that led to the front of the abode. It was unfinished and coarse, giving a satisfying crunch beneath the spurs when traversed by the odd visitor or passersby. The heel of a boot was lightly scraping across the path from just off the porch, back and forth, slow and meandering. A young man, early into his twenties, sat atop the two-step rise, moving his leg mindlessly around in front of him. The dull scraping and dice-roll sound of rocks beneath his heel seemed to mesmerize him.

Shick... shick.

His attire was casual, shirt, vest, jeans, and boots. The white tee was just the right size, leaving a slight impression of his fit torso while not being too tight. A sleeveless vest made of blue jean material hung over the shirt freely, unbuttoned. Standard-fit blue jeans were worn over the boots, covering them down to the ankle with a slight flare. The boots were a tan-colored fake leather, starting with spurs and ending in a steel toe. This attire was comfortable and familiar for him, a small taste of home.

Shick, shick, shick.

Clear blue skies were accented with mounds of Cumulus, white and puffy. A pure white that said there would likely be no rain. The air was thin and dry, making way for the sun to shine its hot rays directly into one’s soul. He could feel the intense warm glow that emanated from his skin on this perfect summer day.

Shick!

Ryan stopped for a moment as he inspected the wooden project in his hands. That last scrape of his pocket knife had clearly caught a troublesome piece of the wood, more resistant to his persistent whittling than he’d like. He lifted the project to eye level, staring at it from different angles. The tough spot wasn’t going to be a problem, since he was done chipping that side of the nacelle, anyway. It was a pretty good nacelle, attached to a pretty good- if tiny- representation of the Elysium.

His boot, which had been sliding back and forth across the granite walkway for who-knows-how-long suddenly stopped. The expression on his face fell a bit as his thoughts moved from the small wooden model to the real thing. His ship, his crewmates, the recent losses, the lingering feeling of doubt in the back of his mind. A small pocket of determination resurfaced as he shook his head, pushing all those thoughts away.

Almost done. Ryan thought, turning the wooden piece this way and that, inspecting his handiwork.

“Computer,” He looked up and left, towards what was an empty space out in front of the house, “activate the workshop.”

The computer beeped an affirmative as Ryan was getting up from the porch, pushing off the step he’d been sitting on to keep his balance. He looked down to see a mess of wood chips still on his pants. With a few slow, careful brushes- wouldn’t want a splinter, even the safety protocols could make mistakes- he removed the chips and they scattered about the ground near his boots.

When he looked back up, the little workshop had indeed appeared. With a click of his spurs, he swaggered his way into step towards the double-door entrance. A loud creaking was heard as their metal hinges, long overdue some lubrication, protested the sudden intrusion.

Everything was just as he’d left it. Ryan smiled. “Computer, bring all five of my projects in here and place them on the workbench.” Another affirmative twitter preceded the in-holodeck transfer of a quintet of wooden pieces, the ones he’d previously been working with on the porch, outside.

The first in line was the last one he’d created, a miniature version of the Elysium. Ryan picked it up, smiling. “You’re going to Ms. Derani.” He said aloud.

His hand reached down to a pile of sandpaper squares on the bench, taking a piece that was one-hundred-fifty grit. He scraped steadily around the saucer section, his hidden adolescent mind coming back up for a moment as he imagined the ship flying through space. He could almost see the people in the would-be windows; well, there would be windows, if he had the skill to chip so many little pieces in the side, but what little detail was there would have to suffice.

Next came the three-hundred-twenty grit sandpaper. Ryan scraped rapidly, now, making sure to adjust the angles when necessary, especially in trouble-maker areas like the spaces between the nacelles and the secondary hull.

Several minutes later, the surfaces were extremely smooth. His fingers slid in and around the pieces until he was certain it was gift-worthy. He didn’t know what he was doing half the time, but he hoped his coworkers would like them, anyway.

Ryan decided to go ahead and look over the other projects one more time.

The second piece was a longbow with an arrow tensing the string. With the tiny weapon sitting in his palm, he thought about S’hib. “I hope he likes you. I think he might, though his real weapon is much cooler looking!” A self-satisfied chuckle followed as he put it back down.

Next was a pot. That one, in particular, was a lot more complicated than he’d originally thought. Whittling a pot shape until it was hollowed out took time and there were several discarded versions that fell apart after getting too thin. “I think maybe Ms. Nerinath will take a liking to you.” He would’ve spoken her last name, but he wasn’t actually sure how to properly pronounce it.

The fourth in line was easily the most childish of his projects. Two hyposprays chained together like nun-chucks. A medic who practices martial arts? Yeah, this one was definitely a stretch. Getting both hypos to look the same was so time-consuming that he’d eventually given up on perfection and stopped when they were almost the same. “You’ll go to Mr. T’kek.”

Finally, there was project five. This wooden piece started with a simple shape, but after he’d given it the globe shape of a planet, Ryan was inspired to go ahead and carve it up further, making concentric circles along the outside until it resembled some sort of alien artifact. “You are for Ms. Morgan.”

That was it. He’d finally finished. It felt good, like how it felt to know your shift was almost over. Ensign Ryan Kade had but one thing left to do: deliver them!

“Computer, save projects and transfer to the replicator.” He pulled a small PADD out of his inner vest pocket, looking up an already-created list of his gift recipients’ personal quarters. “Save program. Exit.”