Atoms in Space

Posted on 05 Mar 2013 @ 2:49am by Raifi Zaren & Amril

2,039 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Episode 03 - Frontier
Location: USS Galileo: Deck 2, Transporter Room 1
Timeline: MD02: 1200 hrs

[ON]

There really were a limited number of places he could go, but he couldn't just sit, could he? He needed to move, to talk to people, to get an angle on how to approach the upcoming survey in a way that suited him. Jool had her way of looking at things, and that was fine. That was why Trija had insisted she come along. But Zaren had his own style and it required people being willing to talk to him. Wandering Deck 2, he found himself at the Transporter room. Well, at least he was allowed to go in there, though he'd no wish to use the terrible machine. Still, he peeked his head inside the door... then cocked his head to the side, blinking at the figure inside. Vorta. Starfleet uniform. Would wonders never cease. "Hi."

Amril was at the transporter controls, running a diagnostic more for his own benefit than because he needed to make sure it was working. He looked up as someone entered and greeted him. In the time it took for his lips to form a smile, his analytic mind started to evaluate the man before him. A trill, but a civilian, not one of the civilians he'd seen on the ship normally, this one was wearing real civilian clothes. He decided it was one of the reporters. he would have to be careful.

"Ah, greetings," the vorta said pleasantly.

"Never liked those things," he lifted his brows, pointing to the transporter the vorta was working on. "Maybe it's just that the physics of them escapes me. Sorry, I'm not interrupting, am I?"

"Well, I am not particularly inconvenienced, Mr....?"

"Zaren. Raifi Zaren. Either name will do, but no 'mister', if you please," Zaren grinned.

"Ah, Mi- Zaren, excellent. What can I do for you?"

"Just taking a look around. Stretching my legs. Mind if I just keep you company while you're doing... whatever it is you're doing?"

"It is not particularly interesting," Amril replied, "just a diagnostic."

"It's interesting to people who don't see it every day," Zaren assured him. "And you're... let's see. That's a lieutenant's collar and you're not Trill, so you must be Amril. Am I right?"

"A fascinating way of deducing that," the vorta replied diplomatically, "but yes, I am."

"Lieutenant Amril, I'm sure you hear this all the time, but how exactly did you come to be here?" Zaren lifted his brows curiously.

"Oh, an astute question, Mister. Zaren," he replied with a chuckle, "Unfortunately, however, I am not sure that Starfleet wants to make that information public."

"Sure, of course. But then they probably don't want to make it public you're working aboard this starship either, I don't imagine. There's no mention of your species in your public personnel file. So, strictly off the record, anything you can say?"

"I don't think Starfleet is trying to hide my existence," Amril responded, "otherwise they would not let me be out and serving on the ship. They may not be advertising it, of course."

"Either way, my lips are sealed until I get the word one way or the other." The Trill smiled, "Am I supposed to take the lack of answer as a hint?"

"Not at all, Mister Zaren," he seemed to have forgotten the earlier request to avoid using 'mister,' "I will happily tell you about anything you want to know that is not sensitive."

"All right," the Trill murmured, leaning carefully against the side of a console so he wouldn't accidentally touch anything. "Tell me about you, then. What you can. Since I don't know what's sensitive or not." He grinned. "Do you mind?"

"Oh, well..." Amril started to run another diagnostic, "I am not a very good storyteller. What do you want to know about me?"

"Anything and everything," Zaren murmured. He really didn't want to have a conversation that went 'question', 'can't answer', 'question', 'can't answer'. He'd always abhored those. But he'd never spoken to a vorta before. "What's your hearing like?" he asked, pointing to his own ears. It had to be amplified somehow by those ears, didn't it? Or maybe he was like the Ferengi, and just had a ton of nerve centers in there.

"Oh, excellent," Amril informed the Trill cheerily, "Vorta have superbly developed auditory organs. It is a useful skill to have as a diplomat."

"It certainly is," the Trill commented. "Is that what you'd like to be doing? Diplomacy?"

"I'm quite happy to be doing this," Amril replied, "I am primarily a logistics expert and I am the most help to the Galileo working in operations."

"But you consider yourself a diplomat of sorts? Perhaps from the vorta?"

"Oh no," he was quick to assure the man, "I no longer hold allegiance to the vorta or the Dominion. I represent no one but myself."

"How did that come to pass? I've never heard of one of your people separating themselves entirely from their clan. You must still have connections with them, mustn't you?"

"None at all," Amril replied, "I have not seen another member of the Dominion in over ten years, nor, might I add, do I want to."

"Why not?" Zaren asked intently.

"That is a complicated question. In part it is because I disagree with the way the Founders... behave."

"Could you be more specific?"

Amril was silent at first, thoughtfully watching the readouts on the operations console. At length, however, he offered an answer. "I... did not want to serve the Founders during the war... I wanted to do other things, like explore. The Dominion did not want that, of course, so I had to stand against them, defy them. That's what I did, I left."

Zaren absently twisted the ring on his little finger as he listened. Ten years before would have been right at the end of the Dominion War. "What about before you left them?"

"Before I left them, I do not really know how to answer that. I left during the first opportunity I had. I coordinated a research facility before that. I was not involved in the war, if that is what you really want to know."

"It's not my intention to offend or pry, Lieutenant; I'm curious. I collect stories, you see, and yours is one I haven't heard before. To resist the Dominion... it was difficult for the fleets of the Federation to stand against them, let alone one man. How did you manage to avoid involvement in the war?"

Amril chuckled. "Not every vorta commands a fleet of jem'hadar," he pointed out, "I did much the same thing as an operations officer would do at one of the Federation's science stations. They only took notice of me when I tried to leave."

During the War, as far as Zaren knew, nearly every Federation station had been focused on means of defense and retaliation. "What sort of research?" he asked.

An astute question, Amril thought, smiling easily. "Genetic research," he replied, "Not all vorta are administrators either, we make excellent doctors and scientists. I was not a researcher so I cannot give you any details on any of the projects, though I was particularly fond of the project that attempted to locate the gene causing rapid DNA degradation in a population of one of our member races. They asked for the Dominion for help, so we assigned some of our scientists to solve the problem. Unfortunately I do not know the results."

It was a contradiction. He didn't know any details about any of the projects, but he was fond of one specifically for its details? "Which member race was that?"

"They are called the Dutari, very intelligent and they have advanced technology, but they are peaceful and devote their time to trading."

The lines in Amril's head between what was 'involvement' in the Dominion war effort and what wasn't were fairly fine, but that wasn't terribly uncommon. "I haven't heard about them. What sort of trade do they engage in?"

"Just about everything. Their planet is filled with resources and they also trade goods between other races. They are fine merchants."

"And none of their trade supported the war effort?" Zaren wondered aloud. "Not even economically or peripherally? I'm not questioning your veracity, but it seems like a rather involved project for a research vessel in the middle of a war if there wasn't some benefit to the Dominion."

"Oh, not at all," Amril said, amused, "I do not mean to say the Dominion did not benefit. Of course it benefited, but the Dutari never came to this side of the wormhole. I was merely mentioning a project I knew of, since you seemed interested. That has nothing to do with how I ended up here."

"I am interested, in anything you're willing to tell me. I haven't had an opportunity to learn much about the species on the other side of the wormhole. Stories, of course, but nothing definite. I'd love to know more about the Dutari, for instance, and also what other sorts of research you found interesting before you came through to us."

"Well, perhaps we can arrange for a more in-depth discussion at another time." He smiled knowingly, "I am sure you have several stories you would like to write about Starfleet's vorta for your public information dissemination network?"

"I'd be happy to go off the record, if that would make you feel more comfortable. It's more my own curiosity. I don't feel compelled to share everything I learn with the network."

"I would not want to conflict you," Amril assured the man affably. "If I tell you something in an interview, you may spread it however it is you do. I'm well aware of what your job is."

"My job isn't my life. It's how I choose to go about doing the things I feel I must in my life." Zaren lifted a brow, "Know what I mean?"

"I'm afraid I do not," Amril admitted.

"You don't have - you know - things you do outside work? Hobbies? Outside interests? Dreams for the future?"

"I have not thought about that a great deal. But I have expressed an interest in anthropology to our chief science officer. It's a fascinating subject. I must say I also enjoy the opportunity to explore with the Galileo."

"Right, that! The thing that makes you interested in past civilizations. That drives you to see new places. Those are your desires. The force of your pagh, as the Bajorans would put it. For me, I let those interests guide me to my job. So, it doesn't define me. It's something I do, because it helps me accomplish the needs of my pagh. See?"

"I- yes, I think I see." Amril smiled, then continued, "Is there more you want to know?"

"Always," Zaren canted his head with a broad grin. "What is it about anthropology that interests you?"

"The development of cultures. The origins of the societies you have developed in the Federation are fascinating in their variety."

"There's not a variety of cultures on the other side of the wormhole?"

"Oh, there is," Amril replied with a smile, "But I am on this side of the wormhole and when I was on the other side I did not have an interest in anthropology."

"Ah," Zaren watched the vorta curiously. "If you've some time free, over the next few weeks, I'd love to pick your brain about them. We don't know... anything really... about the people on the other side of the wormhole, aside from their battle tactics. Might not be a bad thing to understand them as people and not just enemies."

"I think that would be an excellent idea," Amril said, clasping his hands with apparent delight. "I will gladly tell you what I can."

"I will gladly listen," Zaren answered with a quick grin. "Send me a message when you've got some time. Day or night." He held his hand out to the vorta, "I'll look forward to our next conversation."

"As do I."

[OFF]

Raifi Zaren
FNN Journalist
USS Galileo
(pNPC Lilou Peers)

Lieutenant Amril
Chief Operations Officer
USS Galileo
played by Psylus Anon

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