Old Souls with Fresh Faces

Posted on 20 Jun 2014 @ 11:18am by Lieutenant Oren Idris Ph.D. & Commander Norvi Stace

2,065 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Episode 06 - Legend of Souls
Location: USS Galileo - Deck 4, Chief Scientist's office
Timeline: MD04 - 14:22

ON:

Checking the next thing on his schedule, Oren had to admit, he was starting to get a feel for the place. Sure, he didn't know anyone (not really) but that was a good thing. He could handle meeting new people. After all, it was part of his job to be a people person. After the meeting with the Executive officer, Oren had put little Landi into his bag, hoping for the best. It was unfair to have the puppy run after him with her little legs. Unfair bordering on cruel, really. With her snores barely audible from the depths of the bag, Oren walked as quietly as possible and, two turbolift rides later, he was faced with the Chief Science officer's office.

This time, he didn't bother checking his appearance too much and just pressed the chime, hoping she was inside. 'Should've checked that before,' he thought, but then shrugged to himself, waiting for a reply.

Like a castle about her, Stace was surrounded by walls and turrets of data padds hemming her into her desk. Her office was small, adequate for the size of department she had, but still too small to organise her workload adequately without looking as though she was hiding from the world, barricaded by reports and schedules and meeting notes and mission briefings. She paused, placed down the padd in her hand, and looked towards the sealed door as the chime reverberated about the walls. She sighed, thankful for the interruption, and then rose to fully see beyond the data padds. "Come in," she called out expectantly.

Plastering on his usual carefree smile, Oren stepped in and looked around. His gaze finally fell upon the large stack of padds. Eyebrows raised, he let out a slow whistle. "Wow...glad I'm not the department head," he said without much though before smiling at the woman behind the desk.

"Hello. Oren Idris, reporting for duty," he said.

Scattered by her current predicament, Stace almost rudely waved to the man before her. "Remind me, if you please..." she trailed off, moving the padds off the chair in front of her and clearing a channel with which to speak to him through from her side of the deesk. "I know it's only a small ship, but I'm still getting used to the faces I have already met." She selected a padd that was to hand and scrolled through it. "Idris, Idris, Idris... Ah, there you are! Of course. The Archaeologist. Do, please, sit."

Oren chuckled a bit at the fellow scientist. He couldn't really blame her for being a little scatterbrained. He definitely would be with that amount of paperwork.

"Yes," he nodded as she realised who he was and moved to sit down. "Thank you," Oren added, placing his bag down gently in his lap. "It's nice to finally be here and, speaking of, I'm really sorry for being late like this, I just lost track of the date and the time, which is...ironic, considering my people are supposed to be sensitive to it."

"Your people?" Stace questioned, reviewing the transfer request again with a slanted eye. "Ah, El-Aurian! I've only met a few of your species in my lifetimes but I always find them so fascinating." She paused and then winked suggestively. "Our species seem to have something in common." She stroked back her cheeks in two hands and allowed them to rest at her temples. "I get asked daily when people realise how old I am what the secret to my youthful skin is. Shall we guess ages?"

Oren grinned. "A challenge? Okay." With a nod, he stood up again, eyeing the Trill critically. "For you...let's see?" He walked around the desk, taking her in. His demeanor was relaxed, playful even.

"Judging by your current appearance, I would imagine your age, symbiont excluded, to be between twenty five and thirty Terran years," he began, thinking out loud as he paced the office.

"Factor in the average lifespan of a Trill and the symbiont....I'm gonna take a wild stab in the dark and say....between three hundred and three hundred and fifty?" he finished, then went on. "Unless we have to pick and number. I'll say three hundred and twenty five," Oren said quickly, coming to a full stop, once again in front of Stace's desk.

Stace's eyebrow piqued and an unamused expression spread across her face. "I'm about two hundred and seventy years old. Give or take a decade. And I can never quite reconcile the periods when my Symbiont is meandering about the milk-like pools in the Caves of Mak'ala. A day can seem like a week there. And a year like an hour. But my host is twenty eight. JUST. And now for you."

She cast a wandering gaze over the El-Aurian and narrowed her eyes in a deliberate attempt to betray her harsh judgement. "Five hundred and twenty six years old."

Oren actually giggled at her expression, but not unkindly. "Wow, my journey must've been rougher than I thought," he said, looking down at himself. "I'm actually only seventy-five. Well, almost." He shrugged. "My grandmother would say I'm practically a baby. But considering I've never dug up anything in my expeditions older than she is, that's not really saying much."

"And how old, pray tell, is she? Three hundred and twenty five years old?" Stace was not going to let this jesting go. And Oren knew this. "Anyway, welcome aboard, kid." She shrugged it off for the moment but made a mental note, smiling to him as she did. "Have you been assigned quarters at all?"

"Uh...I think it's on Deck 4, where the lab is. And I'm roomed with a Caitian, but I can't remember the exact name. Which is gonna be interesting, since I have a dog," Oren explained, glancing at his bag unconsciously. He'd left it half open and only a tiny puff of gray fur was visible.

Stace's eyes smiled, but inside her whole body tightened up. She wasn't against dogs or pets at all. And the same with babies. If she had one of her own she would care for it deeply and love it as she should. But others' didn't seem to cause the same rise out of her. When mothers brought their children into the department to show off their offspring, Stace always felt a disconnect. She was always the one still manning her console pretending that the expectant results she was hanging on for could not be left, when in fact she just couldn't be bothered.

"He looks... adorable," she feigned. "What's his name?"

"Her name's Landi. And don't worry, I'll never ask you to babysit." He winked. It was one of those moments when he was really glad he had that little niggle of empathy in the back of his head telling him when the mood was off.

"Or show you images of her when she's doing something cute," he continued, joking. He understood her, after all. Not everyone was like him, excited over...well, everything that moved. Young as Oren was, he knew some people just didn't connect with things instantly the way he did.

Stace, feeling refreshed after such an honest dialogue, smiled widely at the archaeologist. "Phew!" she said, wiping her brow emphatically and with a wink. "But how well do dogs and Caitans get on? Do you know?"

"No." Oren shook his head. "But it looks like I'll definitely find out," he added with small chuckle. "So, can I ask something?" Without really waiting for a reply or, gods forbid, for her to say the old 'I think you just did' nonsense, Oren carried on.

"What's the Science department doing at the moment?" He was eager to get knee deep into his work and it showed with the way he wiggled with excitement in his seat.

"At the moment," Stace replied, interlacing her fingers on the desk in front of her, "everything. Being a science-specific ship, we always have our hand in one thing or another. But my assistant chief is an excellent facilitator and Lieitenant Pendleton shares the workload with me as Chief Research Officer. It might do you some good to check in with both of those too." She narrowed her gaze onto the 'young' man before her. "Are you familiar with the Lyshan III mission at all, Doctor?"

"Um..." Oren shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I may have glanced at the briefing. Cardassians stuck in a mine?" he said, hoping he was at least close because, damn it, he'd had a very long day.

Stace tapped the data padd, looked over to her console and did the same. "I've sent you a brief outline of what we're doing here, Doctor. It might be worth just having a read through in case I send an assignment your way. This one has us a little perplexed."

Oren gave Stace an apologetic look before turning his attention back to the padd. As he read through the report with an experienced eye, his expression turned serious. "Metaphysical manifestation," he read aloud, the previous joviality gone from his tone completely. "That's odd," he admitted, scrolling through the report. "Miners are superstitious as a group but these are mostly Cardassian. In my experience, Cardassians are one of the most realistic races I've ever met. They're paranoid, but even that has a reason behind it. They wouldn't abandon their work without a very good cause."

The mining work, while a joint effort between the Federation and the Cardassians, was mostly benefiting the Union. "No Cardassaian would do something as drastic as quit over seeing a ghost." He didn't take his eyes off the contents of the padd. "Yeah, missing miners would do it," he concluded, seeing that piece of information. "Then again, these aren't a typical group of Cardassians." He carried on, speaking to himself more than Stace. When he finally looked away from the padd he said: "Do you have more information on the colony itself? When it was established, population, circumstances of employment, wages etc?"

"Not to hand," Stace replied honestly. "But a few of us travelled down to the surface a few days ago to interview the remaining miners. Just to get a first hand account of what was experienced, if you will. I can forward you that over should you like." She stopped and sighed, looking intently at the man before her. "Anyway, we can get you up to speed once you have settled in a little. Is there anything that you need, Doctor? Or do you have any questions about the department as a whole?"

But Oren seemed entirely focused on the information at hand. "I worked on a Nova class about two years ago for several years, so I assume the department itself runs very much the same." His voice was distracted as he tapped away at the padd for a moment before realising he may have been acting rudely. "Oh, what do I need?" He paused, thinking. Nothing came to mind immediately. He didn't really understand why he needed to 'settle'. He was here, wasn't he? That meant he was settled in his mind. But he was new and being pushy was seldom well received.

"Not that I can think of, Lieutenant," Oren decided. "But if I do, I will be sure to let you know." He looked back down at the padd, distracted again. He needed to contact some people. Cardassians were never really his area, but he knew someone who could tell him what he needed to know.

"My door's always open to the crew, Doctor," she replied with a smile. "If you need anything then let me know."

"Will do. Now, if you don't mind, I think I'm going to go drop my things off and, I guess I'll see you on my first shift tomorrow," Oren told her, smiling back. He stood up, holding his bag against his chest. "It was a great pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant Stace."

"You too," Stace replied with a smile. She held out her hand and shook it. "Remember should you need anything..."

"Don't hesitate to tell you," Oren finished with a good-natured nod before leaving the office, ready to strike another thing off his to-do list.

OFF:

Lieutenant Norvi Stace
Chief Science Officer
USS Galileo

&

Oren Idris PhD
Archaeologist/Anthropologist
USS Galileo

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