Things that go bump in the evening

Posted on Mon Dec 27th, 2021 @ 4:54am by Lieutenant Myne Redal & Captain Natacha Patani

Mission: Season 5: Episode 3: CAPETOWN
Location: Arcadia Bar and Lounge
Timeline: MD08 2000
4044 words - 8.1 OF Standard Post Measure

//ON//

There were few things that Natacha loved more than being a Marine. And as she moved up the ranks and gained responsibility, there was a certain amount of "paperwork" that accompanied that responsibility. For example, as the new executive officer of the Elysium's Marine Detachment, she was having to review training records, service records, unit records...

It was an unfortunate fact of life that a Marine officer had to be as hard charging in the file room as she was on the battlefield.

So, like the Trill Natacha had met earlier in the day, the Marine officer wandered into the lounge with her nose buried in her PADD, dressed in her duty uniform.

Unlike that Trill, however, Natacha was perfectly aware of what was going on around her. So when a nearby waitstaff member twice her mass carrying a tray of drinks slipped and began falling backwards, Natacha reacted with preternatural speed. With a grace rarely seen outside the cartoons she loved, Natacha chucked her PADD so that it landed squarely on a nearby table. She then stepped behind the falling waitstaff member, steadying them with a left hand in the center of the server's back while catching the tray of drinks with her right.

Natacha handed the waitstaff their tray back to a round of applause as she retrieved her PADD. The Marine then began looking around for the operations officer she was meeting.

Speaking of the Trill, Myne entered the lounge not long after Natacha. Actually just in time to see Natacha save the poor waiter and the round of applause she received as a result.

Myne waited for Natacha to take her seat before approaching the table and waving at her with a wide smile. Myne actually dressed up for once, wearing a nice casual summer dress, which was covered in flower patterns or various colors. This left her arms rather exposed which showed quite a few healed-up burn marks.

"Heya Captain! Nice acrobatics earlier. Was that the yoga thing? Is this seat taken or are you waiting for someone?"

"In part," Natacha answered, unconsciously giving her uniform tunic a straightening tug. "In part to other training, as well as my physiology." There was a pause before the Marine added, "You look very nice in that dress, Myne."

Looking down at herself, Myne blushed slightly and sat down. "Yeah, you look very nice in uniform too. The whole no-nonsense badass look suits you. And it makes you look really cool." She replied a tad nervously. "And you looked really cool doing that thing earlier too."

Natacha gave a curt nod. "Does this lounge have a signature drink?" she asked.

Myne shrugged. "I have no idea, sorry. I usually only drink Ferengi brews and I don't actually come here often. Okay, I do at times, but always stuck in my own little world when I do."

"May I order for both of us then?" Natacha asked. "Any allergies I should be aware of?"

"Sure. Just don't order anything from Earth for me please. Earth drinks and food tend to give me some serious tummy aches. Other than that and insect bites, no allergies!" Myne explained smiling.

The hulking waitstaff whom Natacha had assisted earlier was at their table, almost as if they were prescient.

"A Samarian Sunset for my friend," Natacha began, "And a cup of fish house punch for me. Alcohol, not synthehol in mine." When the waitstaff disappeared, Natacha explained, "My digestive system handles synthehol and alcohol differently, which is why I prefer the latter over the former." The marine paused before adding, "Are you allergic to chocolate? For some reason, you strike me as someone who enjoys chocolate."

"Oh, I don't do alcohol at all. Bad experiences with Sudra on that topic. He liked the bottle a bit too much and Earth food. Maybe that's why I can't really stomach them now." She mused and nodded sagely. "Chocolate? I don't think I've tried it. Again, overall I have been keeping my distance from Earth foods. Coffee for example makes me feel like someone is in my stomach trying to punch their way out."

"Sudra was a previous host then?" Natacha asked. The waitstaff came back at that moment, placing a glass cup of a light golden liquid in front of Natacha, then a glass goblet containing a clear liquid in front of Myne.

"I did not know you were a joined Trill," Natacha continued. The Marine leaned over the table and tapped the rim of Myne's glass. A swirl of orange and gold luminescence appeared in the clear liquid. The swirl streamed out to fill the glass, until the entire drink turned a dull non-luminescent gold.

"How are you with Raktajino?" Natacha asked, taking a sip from her own cup.

"Yep! Sudra was the previous me. Academy instructor back on Earth actually. And sorry that I didn't say I am joined. Usually I don't really think about it, you know? It's just a part of who I am. And to make sure this doesn't come as a surprise later, in total I am around four centuries old. Well, you know what I mean." Myne nervously tried to explain making a mess of things.

Though her attention was quickly taken by the glass once Natacha tapped the glass. "Ah!" She gasped as she saw the color change. "Wow, I did not expect that. So cool!!" The young Trill clearly was utterly fascinated and clapped her hands excitedly. "I have never seen something like this. What is a Rakta-jino?"

"Raktajino has been described as Klingon coffee, but I suppose that would be the equivalent of describing Parrises Squares as four man basketball." Natacha shrugged. "I'm not really sure how 'real' Raktajino is made. It may be one of those things in which ignorance is bliss."

"Oh no, never tried it clearly. The me that used to hang out with Klingons some way back wasn't exactly into their culture that much. Anyway, tell me more about yourself. Why did you pick the marines? Aside from you know, cool factor! Someone who prays to Yoga and peace seems a strange choice for phasers and knives."

Natacha wasn't quite sure what to make of Myne. Natacha had met several Trill before, but never a joined one. Considering that joined trill made up less than two percent of the population on Trill, that was understandable. Natacha always imagined that a joined Trill would behave like an elder sister in the Sangamithra Society.

Natacha supposed it wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that a joined Trill would behave in such a mentally disorganized manner. It was simply not how Natacha had envisioned a joined Trill acting.

"It is something of a long story," Natacha began. "Are you familiar with the concept of lost colonies?"

Myne first and foremost dared pick up the glass and bring it to her nose. After taking a quick sniff to get the scent of the brew she took an equally quick sip. She made the liquids dance on her tongue for a moment before swallowing, which then turned into a more passionate drink and a loud hum of approval.

"Delicious!! Thank you Natacha, this is a surprisingly tasty drink!" Myne said as she placed the glass back down and brought her palms together to tap on her lips. "Lost colonies? Hmmm, nooope. Don't tell me Humans lost entire colonies? How can you loose a planet in the first place?"

"The early days of human space exploration and colonization coincided with Earth itself being somewhat fragmented," Natacha began. "Some colonies intentionally broke contact with Earth. Others lost contact with Earth due to disasters, both manmade and natural. Some of those disasters occurred on the colony, some on Earth. Follow me so far?"

To her credit, as airheaded and easily distracted Myne might seem at first glance, the promise of knowledge certainly had her paying attention. Actually, Myne seemed to be oblivious to everything around her except Natacha and her story. "Yes, please go on." She urged, taking another sip from her drink without removing her glance from the marine captain.

"I grew up on one of those lost worlds," Natacha explained. "Randeer Three, my home world, was rediscovered less than two decades ago. The rediscovery prompted a change in my world's governing body. The new government decided that certain adolescents such as myself needed assistance in fitting in with the new cultural structure, and asked for Federation help in setting up this program. There was a Marine gunnery sergeant who was part of the program." A frown appeared on Natacha's face. "It's difficult to put this into words, but that Gunnery Sergeant is the reason I wanted to become a Marine."

Nodding slowly Myne finally spoke in a soft tone. "Sounds like you found someone you looked up to? I think? I am happy to hear that your world found its way back into the Federation. I apologize for my own lack of knowledge regarding Earth and Humans. The thought of an isolated, cut-off world sounds strangely sad and lonely."

"Depends on the world," Natacha mused. "As you can imagine, I made a study of the subject. One or two of the rediscovered worlds had become utopias. Or close enough, at any rate."

"What about your world? How is it? How do you like it compared to Earth? Is it a utopia or close to one? Did you learn yoga on your world or on Earth? Is yoga the religion of your world?" Myne's curiosity got the better of her rather obviously. Her eyes did not leave Natacha's face for one second, as if eager to absorb as much as possible.

"When all you know is one world, like and dislike aren't words that come to mind," Natacha opined. "As for Randeer Three, if we had a religion before the Federation rediscovered us, I would say it was 'der Wille zur Macht.'" There might have been a hint of sadness, even despair, in Natacha's eyes when she said this, but only for a moment.

"I've been monopolizing this discussion. Tell me about Trill," Natacha prompted.

Catching the glint of sadness in Natacha's eyes Myne decided that maybe it wasn't wise to push it. She wasn't known for smart decisions, but every once in a while she got it right. Or at least she hoped she did. "No you have not. I really like hearing those things. I never knew lost colonies were a thing and I do like learning new things."

Taking a breath and another sip from her drink, Myne continued. "Trill? Well Trill is really just very very boring. The sky tends to have a hue of purple though, which is kinda cool when you learn most planets have a blue sky. But otherwise, a nice place to retire when you're old maybe? We do have flying fish and no insects almost."

"Do the fish actually fly, or do they glide?" Natacha asked, a look of open curiosity on her face. "I spent a few months on Earth, and they have a species of fish that can glide above the water for close to a minute."

"They glide. But calling them gliding fish isn't as catchy or amazing sounding as flying fish. Bad for tourism, branding is everything you know?" Myne chuckled. "They pretty much do the same thing but can also jump quite far above the water level too. They have four fins which they flap like crazy to do so. Quite funny looking if you ask me."

"Indeed. We had nothing like them on Randeer Three," Natacha quietly remarked. A thoughtful look appeared on the Marine's face as she added. "Our medical technology was very advanced on Randeer Three, particularly cosmetic surgery. I would even go so far to say that our cosmetic surgery was only half a century behind Federation standards when Randeer Three was rediscovered. I suppose this was because our social norm didn't approve of the display of scars caused by such things as cuts and burns..." The Marine let the last word fade into silence.

"Cosmetic surgery? Really? I was not expecting that to be a thing. Is getting scars that easy on Randeer Three?" Myne asked before she caught onto the way Natacha finished her last sentence. "Oh? Oooooh craap, these?" She asked embarrassed suddenly becoming very aware of the scars on her arms. But she quickly offered a nervous smile instead. "Yeah, I don't notice them anymore. I tend to be a little bit clumsy at times, and last time I had an argument with a console. The console won."

"I have noticed that individual from some cultures see scarring as so desirable that, when medical treatment is being applied to an injury, decline the final portion of the treatment that would remove all traces of the injury," Natacha observed. With a half smile, the Marine added, "And yes, on Randeer Three, receiving scars was very easy, particularly in certain professions. Medical professionals who left unnecessary visible traces of scarring tissue were considered inept."

"Huh, curious. I never gave such things much thought. Does this mean you look pristine and perfect like a porcelain doll all around? Despite all the training and wounds and all those things that come with being a marine?" Myne asked curiously. "So does that mean that beauty is like a virtue on Rendeer Three?"

"Symmetrical genetic traits are---were preferred by my home world's previous ruling consortium. This did not necessarily translate into the pursuit of aesthetically pleasing traits," Natacha answered. "The standards for the latter are subjective, while the former can be mathematically mapped. As to scarring, the accumulation of too many scars was perceived as proof of genetic deficiencies. Any number of undesirable behavior, such as recklessness or lack of situational awareness, could be 'read into' excessive scarring."

"Wait wait wait wait." Myne used both her hands in a slow down motion towards Natacha as she wrapped her head around what she just heard. "Let me get this straight. Are you saying you are mathematically perfect? From a genetics point of view? I am tempted to grab a ruler and start measuring." The Trill chuckled and shook her head. "That sounds kind of amazing. Though that last part, too much scarring and the behavior part, doesn't really sound so good." She said shivering slightly given where that train of thought led her.

"I make no claims of being perfect, mathematically or otherwise," Natacha answered, a hint of amusement creeping into her voice. "Randeer Three was originally settled with the hope of developing a society where men and women could strive to achieve the tenets of what was known as Renaissance humanism." Natacha paused before adding. "There was an environmental disaster in the colony's early days which eventually created a distortion of that vision."

"Hey!! I heard about that! But given how bad I am at remembering or understanding Human culture, I think I might have misunderstood what Rebirthanisms is all about." Myne attempted a bit of humor, though not really feeling it herself either. "I am sorry to hear your world had to go through something like that. At least you got off world to play space soldier in a more, understanding environment? Starfleet might have its flaws, but it is a safe enough place for anyone to become the best version of themselves."

"Indeed," Natacha answered. She finished the last of her drink and signaled the waitstaff for a refill. "I am curious about your service in Starfleet. I confess to a dearth of knowledge when it comes to joined Trills. It was my understanding that each---incarnation?---sought new experiences for the symbiote to accumulate. Is it common, then for more than one host to serve in Starfleet?"

"It is more complicated than that. There are so few symbionts to go around and so few people compatible that there is rather fierce competition for the honor of receiving one. Only the best of the best among the unjoined Trills are chosen. Unless you are requested by the current host and the symbiont. Like I was." Myne explained as she looked at her glass and took another, longer sip from it.

"But you got the idea right overall. The symbiont wants new experiences and each host adds to that. But there are certain paths that symbionts do not diverge from. Some spend most of their hosts lives in Starfleet, maybe just changing departments. Others spend several lifetimes of hosts as diplomats and so on. For me, I am the second one in Starfleet out of ten. The only one to follow in the footsteps of a previous host really. Each host before me has followed their own paths with little in common between them."

Before Natacha could ask a further question, the hulking waitstaff she had assisted earlier brought a plate with a brown domed confection on it. The waitstaff presented a spoon to both women, and again thanked Natacha for her saving them from a spill earlier.

"This is a Ktarian Chocolate Puff," Natacha told Myne. "Made from seventeen different types of chocolate. Ktarian chocolate, not Terran chocolate," Natacha quickly added, "Though I understand the Ktarian and Terran cocoa beans are excellent examples of convergent evolution."

"Ktarian. Okay, the term convergent evolution is making me dizzy just thinking about it, but I am curious how it tastes!" Myne declared picking her spoon and staring at the plate hungrily. Though a little bit hesitantly. "Well, not the first time I die, so might as well dig in!" She declared and attacked the dome with her spoon valiantly. That first bite was delicious and Myne could not help but let out a loud hum of satisfaction. "Wooow, ok, this is delicious!!!"

"I would be careful," Natacha advised as she scooped some of the dessert with her own spoon. "My own metabolism requires a high caloric intake, so I can make no guarantee of this dessert on your metabolism."

"Nah, I am set in that regard!" Myne boasted as she took another spoonful. "I usually stress enough for ten people at a time. That is so slimming, you have no idea! Also, being shocked by consoles every now and then burns fat. Or so I have been told!" She smiled and made another satisfying yummy sound. "How did you find out about this delicious treat?"

"From the program I was enlisted in, when I was sixteen," Natacha said, as she finished another bite. "My...upbringing...had been more geared toward functionalism rather than aestheticism, especially when it came to fulfilling our dietary requirements. The enrollees of the program were introduced to various cuisines throughout the Federation and beyond." Natacha took another bite of chocolate before adding, "I must confess that I developed a taste for gagh. Not the replicated form. And definitely not stewed wistan gagh, even though all the Klingons I've met assure me that is the most palatable of stewed gagh."

"Wait wait, I need to think this through once more." Myne once again motioned for a pause. "You are telling me, you were trained on how to eat? Actually, eating fancy foods was part of your training? Why aren't there entire colony ships going to your planet to get that training? Are you kidding me? Gorging on all the delicacies as part of training sounds like a dream job!" She was clearly fascinated with it. Enough that she almost forgot about the gagh. "Oh and about gagh, I couldn't stand it. Actually, most Klingon food is terrible, which made living among them for a few decades hell! I literally had to smuggle in Ferengi food to cope with all the nasties."

"I was being untrained on how to eat," Natacha answered, pausing before taking another small bite of the puff. "Prior to the Federation's arrival, individuals such as myself were given specially engineered synthetic foods to enhance our performance. Most of the population had a more varied diet, though there was still more of an emphasis on food as nutrients rather than food as enjoyment, even among Randeer Three's general populace. When I was age sixteen, the concept of 'dessert' was unknown to me. I still do not indulge in desserts that often, and probably overly rely on replicated, engineered meal bars, but the programming I received during my developmental years have been overwritten enough that I can enjoy culinary moments such as this."

"Untrained how to eat? The more I hear, the stranger it all sounds. Let's change the topic to something more pleasant. The more I hear the less I think you are telling me good things. So putting aside deserts, what do you like to do in your free time? And yoga doesn't count!!" She asked taking another large bite of the delicious treat.

Natacha paused, trying to think how to answer that question. If Myne didn't want to hear about yoga, she undoubtedly wouldn't want to hear about the other activities Natacha used to pursue mental, emotional and spiritual balance. And with Myne's declaration that Natacha wasn't telling her "good things," she doubted that the other woman would want to her about Natacha's holodeck replications of either the sports of Randeer Three, or those sports like cricket Natacha's ancestors played before they left Earth.

Then an uncharacteristic grin came to Natacha's face as she asked Myne, "Have you ever heard of the tales of the Roadrunner and the Coyote?"

Shaking her head slowly, Myne took a very careful bite as she narrowed her eyes at Natacha. Especially after seeing that grin. "No, I have not. Let me guess, they are religious figures on Earth? Though why would anyone pray to a supernatural, all-powerful being called Roadrunner is beyond me!"

"A legitimate question deserving after a legitimate answer," replied in a faux accent often used by the cultural elite of North America's New England region during the second half of the twentieth century. "It is something that has to be viewed to be understood."

Both Natacha's countenance and tone took on her more usual somber tone as she continued, "We could view a sample of the tales tonight, either in your quarters or mine, though I understand if your schedule doesn't allow for an extended viewing tonight. Perhaps then some point in the near future?"

"It has to be viewed? I swear, the more I learn about Human culture the more confused I am. And people tell me Ferengi are confusing." Myne huffed and took another bite of delicious chocolate goodness as she thought on the proposal. "It would have to be in your cabin. I actually have a roommate. Somehow Command T'Kara's cabin has problems with the power coupling. And someone in Ops assigned her to bunk with me. Which has been a delight!"

Taking another bite, Myne continued to volunteer information. "And she's already upset with me because I make too much noise and thus not letting her meditate. Also, I do function on a fifty hours day cycle so I am good actually for late-night viewings of things!"

"Then, if you have no objections, once we finish here, we can move to Marine country." Natacha suggested.

"Marine country?" Myne stopped mid-swallow to look at Natacha before breaking into a fit of laughter. "Marine country? Really? I swear, if I knew that's how the marine quarters were called I wouldn't have been on the run for a decade or so. Yeah yeah, I am ready!" The laughing Trill said putting the spoon down and shaking her head as if she had the revelation of a lifetime. "Marine country..." She muttered to herself in disbelief.

"I would keep the source of your present amusement to yourself," Natacha said as she stood. She straightened her uniform as she added, "As a rule, Marines have a very low tolerance concerning humor about being Marines."

Getting up Myne gave Natacha a cheeky grin. "In that case, what is the rule on people who've been on the run from marines in a previous life?" She asked as she got ready to follow and see the miracle of this deity Roadrunner with her own eyes.

//OFF//

Captain Natacha Patani
Marine Executive Officer
USS Elysium

Lieutenant JG Myne Redal
Assistant Chief Operations Officer
USS Elysium