Camaraderie

Posted on 15 May 2015 @ 10:11pm by Lieutenant Oren Idris Ph.D. & Lieutenant JG Kalos Jang Ph.D.

1,991 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Episode 08 - NIMBUS
Location: USS Galileo, Deck 7, Callisto bar
Timeline: MD -02, 1900hrs

[ON]

Sitting in the back of the Lounge, Oren fiddled with the tiny ornate hourglass he'd found earlier that day. The table in front of him was covered in paDDs and old paper books with faded, yellowing pages. On the floor, next to the chair Oren was sat on but clearly visible from the entrance, sat a glass filled with red liquid.

As he sat there, eyes down on the hourglass, one of Oren's arms was stretched to the side, one yellow page hanging from where it was pinched between his index finger and thumb. On the page, there was an unmistakable smudge, a shade darker than his drink.

Space! Kal had decided after his personal log that it was time for a drink, to celebrate finally getting out into space. The Callisto Bar wasn't too busy, but it wasn't abandoned, either. Going to the bar, Kal ordered a stardrifter, deciding it seemed appropriate to the occasion.

As he sipped his drink, he looked around the lounge. In the back, he spotted Idris. After meeting on the starbase, Kal had seen him often to say hello whenever their paths crossed around the department. He was staring at what looked like an hourglass. After a bit, he couldn't resist. Kalos Jang was nothing if not curious, and he walked over to where Oren was sitting. "Doctor Idris," he said as he approached. "It's good to see you."

Oren looked up, broken out of the little trance he'd lulled himself into staring at the hourglass. He smiled weakly but at least it was genuine. "Kalos," he replied. "We're not back to Doctor Idris, are we? Call me Oren." With a final shake of his hand, Oren set the page on the table in front of him. "Please, join me."

Looking around the table, Oren took some of the books he'd set on the nearby chair and relocated them onto the table before. "Sorry, just give me a second." Setting the hourglass from his lap onto the table, Oren shuffled the books and paDDs around to make room for Kalos.

Kal took a seat at Oren's table and watched as he shuffled everything around, raising an eyebrow. "I came in and I saw the hourglass--which I don't think I've ever seen outside of an antiques shop--and being a naturally inquisitive man of science, I had to come over and find out what you're doing. So, Oren, just what are you doing?"

"Oh..." Oren glanced down at the hourglass, as if noticing it for the first time. He shook his head. "I'm just reviewing my Klingon customs and language. I've forgotten a good bit," Oren explained with a small shrug of his narrow shoulders. "As for the hourglass, it's not related to all of this," he continued, motioning to the papers on the table with one hand and taking the hourglass in the other.

"It was a gift from my grandmother. I thought I'd lost it, but I rediscovered it today, in my office."

"Yeah? Well, that's cool." Kal peered at the hourglass. It looked to be in pretty decent shape, but he had no idea how old it was. Kal had always been bad with antiques. "How old is it?"

"Well...." Oren turned it over a few times. The sand inside, a dark purple colour, stayed still in one half. "I can't be a hundred percent sure. My grandmother said she's had it her whole life, so...probably about a thousand years. The writing." He turned it over to show Kal the bottom (or top) of it, which was covered in writing. "Is apparently old El-Aurian, but I don't know what it means."

"Holy crap. I don't think I've ever seen anything a thousand years old before." Kal leaned closer as he inspected it. "Is she still around, your grandma?"

"Yeah, she's still alive," Oren confirmed, nodding. "Don't know where she is though. El-Aurian's are...flighty. Especially the older ones." With that, Oren handed him the hourglass so that he could get a better look.

"She told me that the sand in there is from El-Auria," he explained, motioning to it. "I always thought it was really beautiful."

Kal turned the hourglass over in his hands, being careful with it. He'd never really had much time or use for things so old. Kal always kept his head in the future, to where things were going instead of where they'd been. But this was cool, too, in a different way. The sand was a deep, rich purple. Fine, almost powdery. "It is pretty," Kal said. "Is this the sort of thing that got you interested in archaeology?"

Oren let out a huff of laughter, shaking his head. "Not really. I got interested in Archaeology because it seemed like a natural progression from Anthropology," he explained. "But I learned to love it. It's easy to forget the past, that there was a whole other set of people living in the Universe before us, even before them. That they had lives, left tracks."

Kal carefully set the hourglass back down on the table and pointed at it. "I will admit, that's pretty cool. Don't let anybody know I said that, though. I'd lose my standing in the high-tech world of futuristic sciences."

Oren let out a small laugh, feeling a little lighter than he had hoped. "It'll be our little secret," he promised, leaning back in his chair. "How is the world of futuristic sciences, by the way?" he asked. "How many complaints have been filed against you and your little friends so far?"

"None, so far," Kal said. "Other than some side-eye and the like." He smiled. "Did you get a look at the admiral when I told her I worked in nanotech at the inspection, though? I think she might've turned a different shade of green than normal."

Oren's smile widened slightly. "Yeah, for a minute there I thought she might throw you into the brig for suspicious activity," he told him, shrugging. Reaching down, he picked up his drink from the floor and took a long sip. "How do you like the ship so far?" It seemed like a pretty harmless question, Oren thought. The last thing he wanted was to say something offensive and screw up a working relationship, superficial as it was between them. But Kalos seemed pretty easy going, and Oren didn't feel too nervous around him.

"It's all right. The department leaves me to my work, and apart from the occasional flag officer worrying about the Borg, I've had freedom to do what I want." Kal's smile widened. "And we're finally getting underway. Seeing what's out there. I mean, it's taken getting used to. I don't know many people. But, what the hell, there's time, unless I get sucked out into space during war games."

"Perish the thought," Oren commented, shaking his head. "Don't worry, you'll get to know more people as time goes by. It's a small crew, eventually everyone will be in your business," he explained. The fact that it was such a small crew worried Oren. He'd been lucky that day so far, but he wondered how long it would before he ran into Ellsworth, or K'os. Or worse, both of them at once. The thought made him frown, souring the good feelings he'd accumulated during the day.

Oren's frown was sudden and deep enough that Kal couldn't exactly ignore it. He said, "What's that about?" He made his own frown to show what he was talking about. "Everything all right?"

Oren's face softened slightly, making him look sad rather than severe. He shook his head, forcing a small half-smile onto his face. "Not really," he admitted, not having the energy to conceal his problems. "I'm just going through a rough time right now." He didn't want to burden Kalos with anything. He already felt bad enough unloading all of his issues to the counselor, even if it was her job to listen to them.

"Ah." Kal took a drink as he thought that over. He didn't know Oren well enough to pry, but he didn't feel right just blowing that off, either. "Romance troubles? I looked the same way last time I got my heart broken." Kal had been sixteen, but he didn't see any reason to delve into detail on that front.

Oren blinked, a bit shocked at how quickly Kalos had read him. Granted, there weren't a lot of options one could tie to a man his age looking sad, but it was still unexpected and a little awkward. Not trusting his words yet, Oren just nodded.

"Yeah. I drank alone, too. It's like this universal look men get." Kal finished his drink. "We get self-reflective and kinda loathing. I went looking for fights. I'm glad you're more mature, or you'd have broken a chair over my back by now."

Oren couldn't help the small, ungraceful snort that left him at the mere image of himself throwing a chair at someone. "Don't worry, I just get stuck at the self-loathing stage," he said, shrugging as he sipped his drink. "This isn't even alcohol," he pointed out, holding up to glass.

Kal laughed at that. "It doesn't help much in the long-term, anyway. You want to talk about it?"

Oren shook his head despite his actual wishes. He did want to talk about it with someone whose job wasn't to listen, but he didn't want to depress Kalos. Ruining someones good mood wasn't going to make him feel any better. "You really should think before asking someone that," he said instead, giving Kalos a small, sad smile. "You never know what you're getting yourself into."

"I've got nowhere to be," Kal replied. He held up his empty glass. "This was alcohol, so I'm not allowed to go back to work, anyway. Besides, you'll probably have to return the favor someday.

Hopefully not. At least, that's what Oren thought, but he said nothing, knowing that it might be taken the wrong way. "Well, I already spoke to the counselor," Oren explained. "It's why I'm here and not in my quarters. She gave me the day off, but told I'm not allowed to be alone." As he spoke, Oren hoped Kal wouldn't judge him after figuring out the implications of such advice from a counselor.

"And here I am. Your luck is getting better all the time." He paused long enough to get another drink before asking, "It was a pretty serious one, huh?"

"Actually, it wasn't. Well, I felt serious about it, but I always do. I got too invested and he just...decided he wanted someone better," Oren explained, looking down at his half empty glass. "It made me think of other things in my life and that's always depressing."

"That is depressing," Kal said. He looked at Oren as the El-Aurian stared down into his glass. "It sucks, getting dumped, and you gotta feel like hell for a little while. That's the process or whatever. This other guy, whoever he is, isn't better than you, though. Screw that. You're good people."

Oren smiled weakly. "Thanks, Kal. That's sweet of you to say, but...I honestly don't blame Ellsworth." Feeling a bit like a broken record, Oren sighed, tired. "We're too different and it was stupid to hope something would come out of it."

"Well..." Kal let out a Farian curse. Back on Farius, the careful application of swear words was considered something of an art form. There were poets who took up the skill. Since aliens on the planet outnumbered native Farians by a wide margin, Farian was frequently peppered with other languages. Oren might've recognized a word or two that could turn the air blue. "Sometimes all you can do, then, is curse, have a drink and feel like hell."

[OFF]

Oren Idris, Ph.D.
Archaeologist/Anthropologist
USS Galileo

Lieutenant Kalos Jang, Ph.D.
Nanoengineer
USS Galileo

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