What is Nourishing

Posted on Fri Jun 6th, 2025 @ 6:27am by Lieutenant Commander Rin & Lieutenant JG Sylorik MD & Lieutenant Commander Savar cha'Salik hei-Surak Talek-sen-deen [Taylor]

Mission: Season 6: Echoes of the Zynari
Location: Corridor, Deck 14
Timeline: MD 5, 1244 Hours
3493 words - 7 OF Standard Post Measure

His fingers throbbed.

Sylorik walked with the rigidness of someone willing their body to remain upright out of principle. The remnants of his surgical frock clung to his frame--half-buttoned, collar askew, the left cuff stained an unpleasant greenish hue that would eventually require enzymatic processing to remove. His gloves were gone. And so was his patience.

The data PADD in his hand, though light, felt increasingly heavier with each step. His thumb was pressed tight to its edge, knuckles almost white. A data transfer like any other--but this one carried more than simple metrics. It carried evidence of an escalation. An error in judgment, if one were feeling very charitable. Or sabotage, otherwise.

Non-corporeal aliens.

It had taken nearly four hours to stabilize the patient. Four more to safely extract the replicated substance--a gelatinous compound not unlike silicon-based resin, indistinguishable to standard sensors but catastrophically indigestible. It had fused with the gastric lining and burned lesions into the pyloric wall. Sylorik had never seen anything of the like before.

Neither, apparently, had the replicators.

He paused just outside the counselor's office. Closed his eyes. And breathed.

His chest rose and fell with deliberate cadence. Control returned in tiny, pulsing, careful increments. He reached out and tapped the door panel.

A voice came from within and the doors parted. The room smelled of tea and a gentle antiseptic--like a surgical suite someone had succeeded in civilizing. Sylorik stepped in.

"Lieutenant Commander Savar," he began, voice smooth but ragged around the edges. "My apologies for the delay. The patient's condition was protracted."

He extended the data PADD.

"Dr, Sylorik." Savar greeted. The two had been together with three other Vulcans trapped inside a malfunctioning holodeck. It had been a revealing experience to say the least. Savar accepted the PaDD, giving it a cursory glance as he waited for Sylorik to go into further detail.

"Crewman Emily Persad, Operations. Presented with acute abdominal pain after consuming a replicated evening ration. Analysis confirmed the substance contained chemical binders incompatible with humanoid digestion. I believe the replicator was tampered with by one of these incorporeal beings. The alterations were subtle and precise. But clearly not meant for corporeal lifeforms."

He paused.

"The crewman is stable. However, she now refuses to ingest anything. Even water. I've initiated intravenous measures along with metabolic supplements, but she will require sustained nutritional therapy. Oral intake is necessary. Without intervention, we may see a cascading effect--dehydration, immunosuppression, psychological decline. I am recommending immediate counseling, sir."

His tone did not shift. But his stance swayed a little. Shoulders dipped slightly. The exhaustion, until now carefully suppressed, betrayed itself in the barely-perceptible slump of his frame.

"Normally, I would handle it myself," he added, almost as an afterthought. "But I appear to have misplaced the last fifty-seven hours."

He blinked. Then, with a flicker of wryness so faint it could almost be missed, he looked down at his hands.

"I have also, it seems, forgotten to eat."

Sylorik sneaked a glance at Savar's computer terminal which bore the time: 1252 hours.

"Replicators on Decks Seven through Seventeen remain offline on the orders of Doctor Sthilg and Lieutenant Esquivias." Sylorik closed his eyes momentarily, forcing his brain to bear-up. "Doctor Anderson attempted to convince me to rehydrate a protein bar. I politely declined."

He paused again. This one heavier.

"... I now question that decision."

He didn't sit. Not yet. Perhaps out of respect for Savar's office--or perhaps because sitting meant the possibility of not standing again for some time.

Savar listened and catalogued all Sylorik had said. in regard to the patient as well as himself. "Doctor. Thank you for coming to see me and giving me the details of this case. "I concur in that Crewman Persad needs immediate counseling to correct this refusal to eat which was brought on by her unfortunate accident." He paused as he looked at Sylorik, "A personal note Doctor, you are tired. Your stance reveals this and you have admitted you have misplaced the last fifty seven hours. Further you need nourishment. The dining facilities on Deck Ten are operational having been spared the 'pranks' of our unseen guests. I recommend you have a meal before you fall over. Therefore I suggest you accompany me and we will dine together."

Sylorik straightened, somewhat marginally.

"If the dining facilities on Deck Ten remain operational," he said, with the tone of someone re-evaluating the universe through the lens of a grumbling stomach, "then I will accompany you."

He allowed Savar to lead the way.

Lunch, at least in theory, awaited.

* * *

Location: Deck 10
Timeline: 1303 Hours


Rin had come to a similar conclusion. So she had made her way to the Intergalactic House of Pancakes. She hadn't been here in a while. It had been a go-to with her friend Myne before Myne's transfer, and it didn't feel quite the same without her. It seemed the least crowded of the restaurants, although such a statement was definitely relative. And pancakes were comfort food. And Rin could definitely make use of that.

Waiting for a very busy waitress to take her order, Rin pulled out a PaDD to continue working, despite the fact she had promised herself she wouldn't. She needed to take a break. But she couldn't very well sit here doing nothing, right? She promised herself she'd put it away once her food came out.

Deck Ten was brimming with bodies--uniforms of every department intermingled with civilians, all moving in irregular flows between storefronts and eateries like little rivers. Sylorik kept pace beside Savar, his step precise despite the low-grade ache starting to settle behind his temples. The fatigue was mounting. It was not something he would typically acknowledge unless it threatened functionality but even he could not ignore the faint tremor in his fingers as they passed through a particular aroma that smelled alarmingly, like candied protein.

The first two restaurants they approached has queues snaking out into the promenade, with waitstaff overwhelmed and patrons visibly annoyed. Tilting his head slightly, Sylorik registered the volume of ambient noise and the sheer density of bodies as a moderate menace to efficiency. A third venue--Guillo's--was closed entirely, its front display darkened and posted with a blunt "Out of Service" placard. The possibilities had narrowed.

At the far end of the curve, the Intergalactic House of Pancakes appeared open for business. Inside, it was particularly crowded--off-duty officers crammed into booths, civilians hunched over carb-heavy dishes, laughter ringing off the walls with a sort of synthetic cheer. By any metric, it was not a logical choice. And yet Sylorik and Savar stepped through the threshold and scanned the interior with typical clinical detachment.

No open tables. No unclaimed chairs.

A female officer sat alone in a booth near the rear wall, a data PADD in hand, posture slightly turned from the crowd.

Sylorik paused.

Savar looked over the sea of bodies, that were crowded into the restaurant, then to Sylorik. "I feel this is our best opportunity to get lunch. Das Alpine Haus is consistently crowded, you must make reservations any meal. Cosmic Confections is a bakery and pastries. That said, I do not see any open tables or booths. Do you?"

Sylorik glanced back to the female officer seated alone at the booth. He was loathe to intrude upon another individual's space--especially having had his own space intruded upon many times since coming aboard--but his stomach and his fatigue cried-out.

"Given the lack of alternative seating and the current operational constraints, it may be prudent to inquire whether she,"--he gestured gracefully to the female officer at the booth--"may be amenable to shared company."

"Agreed." Savar replied. "Let us inquire before we order ." He said as he walked towards the booth and its lone occupant. As they approached, Savar said to Sylorik, "I will let you inquire as you are the one who saw she was alone."

Sylorik cast a sidelong glance at Savar, one brow lifting in measured thanks. "I thank you for your willingness to delegate this diplomatic overture to me, Commander."

He turned toward the booth, stepping forward with surgical precision. Pausing at a polite distance from the lone occupant--a human female with cybernetic implants on the left side of her face--he inclined his head slightly, hands clasped firmly behind his back. "Lieutenant Commander," Sylorik said, noticing the pips on her collar. "My colleague and I find ourselves confronted by a scarcity of available seating. Would you object to a temporary... consolidation?"

Savar nodded."I am always glad to be of assistance Doctor." as they drew nearer the table.

Standing to one side, Savar could now see that the booths occupant was Lieutenant Commander Rin. the Elysium's third officer as well as its chief intelligence officer. Stepping forward, he added. "I am sorry for the intrusion Commander Rin, however there is nowhere else to sit."

"By all means. The company is welcome," Rin assured them, waving toward the seats across from her. "I felt a bit guilty having a table all to myself, but it was the only choice available."

As they were seating themselves, she tucked the PaDD away. She had met Savar before, but Sylorik was new to her in person.

"Lt. Commander Rin, good to meet you." She offered a hand to Sylorik. While she recognized his face from his personnel files, Rin had long ago discovered that using someone's name when they had never met tended to make them uncomfortable, so she left such introductions open so that they could introduce themselves.

Sylorik grasped the proffered hand and shook gently. "Lieutenant Sylorik," he said with with crisp enunciation.

"Thank you Commander, your willingness to share the booth is most appreciated. I assure you if another option had been available we would not have intruded on your privacy." Savar replied as he slid into a seat opposite her.

Sylorik slid easily into the seat next to Savar and studied Rin. He studied her silently for a moment longer than etiquette would encourage--though no rudely so. It was his professional gaze--practiced and discreet--examining her clean cybernetics along her orbital ridge. Realizing he was pushing the bounds of acceptable behaviour, he glanced around the busy restaurant.

"I promise, it's no problem. Counseling tells me I spend too much time on my own, anyway." She glanced curiously at the wall beside them, where the shadows of the three of them were cast. "Interesting, one of the main forms of Zynari mischief I've been experiencing is that my shadow seems to have a mind of its own, although it's behaving itself at the moment. Maybe they're trying to keep me company."

"Indeed. These Zynari are full of surprises and mischief." Savar replied sparing a glance at the restaurant wall where their shadows were cast upon it. "I have not experienced that form of prank. However it seems are shadows are behaving, let us hope they continue to do so."

Sylorik turned to examine the wall for a moment, his gaze narrowing with the kind of analytical interest given more to lab cultures than metaphor.

The brief lull in the conversation was punctuated by the arrival of a waitress, likely experiencing a shift to remember with all of the chaos. She wore a standard apron over a neutral-grey uniform but what drew the eye was the projection band that wrapped around her forearm. It was a sleek, elbow-to-wrist device that emitted a softly pulsing three-dimensional menu in midair.

"Good afternoon," she said with brisk cheer. "We're recommending the lentil-quinoa flapjacks today--gluten-neutral, low-sodium, replicator-free. The smoothie of the day is passion fruit and... Andorian winter chard." Her pause suggested that she also questioned the pairing. "You can swipe through the full menu if you prefer."

She turned slightly, angling the projection toward them, its interface blooming open with a wavy shimmer of translucent icons.

"Indeed." Savar replied as he looked over the menu, "I would like the silver dollar blueberry pancakes and Vulcan tea please." As he waited for Sylorik and Rin to place their respective orders.

"Short stack, a side of bacon, and coffee," Rin ordered, the exact same thing she had ordered the last 32 times she had come here.

"I will also have the short stack with a fruit salad and a Tarkalean tea, bitter," Sylorik said, completely uninterested in studying the menu any further. Hunger had completely overtaken any other motivation he might have.

The waitress thanked them, extinguished the three-dimensional menu and hurried off to have their orders prepared.

Sylorik found his gaze returning to Rin. It wasn't borne of rudeness--he had seen enough trauma and augments to quell any unprofessional impulse--but simple academic curiosity. Former Borg were rare in medical circles, rarer still in positions of command, and rarer even in social settings involving pancakes. She struck him as biologically remarkable.

"So, how are you two fairing with the Zynari?" Rin asked, a poor attempt at small talk.

Sylorik folded his hands on the table as if assembling his thoughts in some invisible shape. "The Zynari," he began, "appear to possess a fascination with experiential disorientation. Commander Savar and I were involuntarily relocated to the holodeck."

He exchanged a knowing look with Savar.

"Indeed." Savar replied and continued. "The Zynari remind me of teenagers, rambunctious teenagers who are continually pushing the boundaries on what they can do. This behavior if not stopped will lead to someone or a number of people being injured or worse."

Sylorik nodded in agreement before shifting his attention to Rin. "Given your position as Intelligence Chief, what are your thoughts on our current situation, Commander?" His eyes met hers across the table--calm, analytical, but not unkind.

"I have never considered a comparison to teenagers," she responded, her voice calm and methodical, not too unlike a typical Vulcan. "That is something I will need to consider. I've been trying to discern a pattern of behavior - the types of pranks played, the individuals who are targeted, and so forth - and have come up with little other than their interactions with children are markedly different from those with adults. The children have reported hearing them talk, although it must be remembered that many children have "invisible friends" who they believe talk to them as well. The behavior with the children is more playful. Toys fly around and the children laugh and play, whereas with adults necessary items fly out of reach or disappear altogether, which becomes annoying or dangerous.

"I have considered that the adults may be frustrating the Zynari as much as they frustrate us," Rin continued. "The Zynari want to play, and we're not responding as expected, so they continue to escalate, not fully understanding the repercussions of their actions. The teenager scenario is certainly possible. Teenagers don't always understand repercussions either. They also push back against authority, and children have no authority, so their behavior it quite different toward them. Or, like teenagers, they may just be bored."

"I think the crew is struggling to remember this is a First Contact situation," she added. "The Zynari are very alien to us. We can't assume they view of the world or behave the same way we do. People talk of how to fight them, and I understand the potential need for that as things continue to escalate, but I'm still hoping to find a way to communicate with them, to understand what they want, and to express the problems their behavior is causing."

Savar quietly and listened as Rin explained her thought process with the Zynari and their expectations with the crew and the crew with them. When she had finished he spoke his voice even and modulated. "An excellent and insightful explanation Commander. I am most impressed. I am of the opinion that if we are to have a meaningful relationship with the Zynari it is imperative we learn how to communicate with them. You are correct in saying this is a First Contact situation and care must be given to remember that. A common ground must exist between us and the Zynari and when it is found, I believe all will become clearer for both sides. I also feel that a closer look on how children interact with the Zynari will help the adults deal with them. I believe the term is 'open mind' and that is what we the adults must have, Not be closed or bogged down by our own constraints. Only then can a relationship be formed and move forward and hopefully be beneficial to all parties."

The waitress reappeared, her wrist-mounted display now dimmed to a low glow. With an efficient flourish, she placed the dishes on the table--Rin's coffee and bacon arrived first, followed by the twin short stacks, the fruit salad, and a delicate steam rising from Sylorik's tea. Another plate was brought forward with Savar's blueberry pancakes and tea. Her cheer remained intact despite the chaos surrounding her. "Let me know if you need anything else," she said before vanishing once more into the fray.

Sylorik waited until she'd gone before he spoke again, eyes momentarily fixed on his stack. "Considering our recent adventure," he said evenly with a glance to Savar, "it's worth noting that once relocated to the holodeck, the Zynari did not subject us to overt peril. Rather, we were presented with highly specific simulations--each one derived, I suspect, from our personal histories. Emotional flashpoints. Moments of contradiction." He paused, glancing between Savar and Rin who were now enjoying their meals. "In each instance, there was a subtle tension between the perceived logic of our decisions and the illogic of their outcomes. I cannot say with certainty, but it is plausible the Zynari were attempting to probe the limits of Vulcan detachment. A test, perhaps. Or an invitation to... reconsider." His tone carried no discernible judgment, but only framed the word as having extra weight.

Savar had been sipping his tea but he now pushed it away from him and carefully considered his next words. "Perhaps not a test but rather a comprehensive study to see how we would react to these incidents from our respective lives and how we would react at being confronted with said incidents along with what if anything we learned or would as you said Doctor reconsider."

"I read the report on that incident," Rin stated, stabbing her pancakes with determination. "It's the most complicated interaction between crew and Zynari I'm aware of. I've been trying to brainstorm how we might use the holodeck to communicate or initiate a similar psychic connection."

Sylorik raised an eyebrow at the thought of a psychic connection with an incorporeal entity. "Perhaps our sojourn in the holodeck was not incidental," he said, clearly deep in thought. "Rather, it may have constituted a demonstration--a gesture regarding their preferred mode of interaction. The Zynari have exhibited the capacity to manipulate multiple systems aboard the Elysium with precision. However, what they may lack is a means of interfacing with our consciousness directly. A telepathic intermediary might not be a convenience, but perhaps, a necessity."

"Hmmm. A valid and logical statement perhaps we can elicit the help of a telepath preferably a Betazoid to act as a bridge between us and the Zynari as Vulcans are touch telepaths and I fear would make a poor choice as a bridge between the species." Savar stated.

"Agreed," replied Sylorik. "However, I would hope the Commodore might proceed with caution should she attempt a gambit such as this."

"Good grief, I've totally forgotten that Vulcans are telepathic," Rin said. "I'm more tired than I thought. I haven't been running the equipment that keeps my implants optimized, because if the Zynari mess with it I have a really bad day."

Sylorik finally cut through his pancakes and tasted a forkful. He decided the maple syrup was far too sweet for his liking and mentally noted to request no toppings in the future--should he ever find himself ordering pancakes again. "Commander," he said, indicating the xB. "It is disconcerting to learn your Borg implants are not being maintained at optimal calibration. Given the current variable--specifically the Zynari's demonstrated capacity to interface with critical ship systems--it impossible they could attempt to access your implants as a point of ingress. I would advise a comprehensive diagnostic and recalibration in Sickbay."

"May I also suggest Commander, that you check on your implants safety/security features to prevent any tampering with them. This can be done as part of your diagnostic and recalibration session in Sickbay. I'm sure Engineering would be glad to assist or make recommendations to you." Savar said just before swallowing a forkful of blueberry pancakes.

Rin sighed and winced a bit that she had not thought of these herself. "Right, do it under supervision. A very logical solution." Then, knowing how many people avoid Sickbay, even when they say otherwise: "I promise to go to Sickbay as soon as I'm done with pancakes. But first, definitely, pancakes."