Posted by Lieutenant Markus Woods (Chief Science Officer) in Another New Ship

Posted by Lieutenant Sharah Fayth (Medical) in Another New Ship
Sharah couldn’t believe how many times she’d transferred duty stations since she had graduated from the Academy. But after that last mission on Ark Angel it was apparent to her that she was NOT cut out to be Chief Science Officer. Ollie had gone off to places unknown, Joseph…she missed him, she mourned him because she had no idea what had happened to him. Tabris left with his kids. She missed them, her goddaughter and godsons. But she wrote every week. She was happy for them. It was time to go back to what she was meant to do and that was being a doctor. So it wasn’t a demotion in rank, but she was no longer a member of the senior staff and she’d had to take a transfer to a new ship. That was okay with her. There were too many memories on Ark Angel.

She liked the sickbay here on Viking. A lot of the crew had left or transferred and so there were openings. She enjoyed learning from the Klingon CMO. And now totally on her own, she was working hard to control her…illness....her ‘condition’. She knew she’d never be able to turn it off, but she would get closer if she just kept at it. And one of those things would always be her plants.

And that is where Sharah found herself, every day, after her shift, in the arboretum, listening to the music, her hands deep in the dirt, helping to care for the plants. She couldn’t turn off the rest of the noise, but the music she heard here was joyful and beautiful.

Fayth

Deck 15 was away from the more populated areas of the ship. It was more utilitarian in general. The arboretum was still new, but teeming with life. Half of it was dedicated to botanical pursuits, medicinal plants and decorative plants. A significant portion of the rest was dedicated to gardening, providing food sources for the crew. While replicator food was healthy and generally good, fresh food kept the energy requirements down and could often make for better meals. The whole thing helped with morale in so many ways, and was entirely volunteer-maintained.

Terraces and vertical farming planters abounded as well as hanging plants and planters from the ceiling. The air was warm at around 26°C (80°F), and moderate humidity, with the ventilation system keeping a gentle breeze moving throughout. The smell of loamy, earthy soil, fresh plants, fresh air, and moisture filled the air. It was as close to being outdoors as one could imagine, save for maybe a good holodeck sim.

The doors to the arboretum opened quietly, allowing Markus to slip inside. He’d changed out of his Science blues, or at least the top, swapping for an indigo shirt and a gray hoodie with the sleeves pushed up to around his elbows. The full spectrum lighting was welcome and as the humidity and warmth washed over the man he felt a layer of stress peel off of him. Making his way farther in, the doors sealed, keeping the canned air of the corridor out.

He took a few moments to stop and smell the roses, figuratively and quite literally as one of the crew had a small cluster of them growing not far from the doors. Instead his more hurried pace he’d come in with, he strolled at a leisurely pace along one row of flowers and plants only to come around the corner and almost trip over another of the crew who was working away, and listening to something upbeat.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, reflexively reaching out a hand as if to forestall their fall, catch them, or offer something to grab onto if they did fall. The other reached up to pull out a small bud from one ear. “I didn’t really do a thorough check to see if anybody else was in here.” Momentarily he kicked himself for being a clumsy idiot. For a scientist who’d been through a few vape fights and handled his own in kickboxing tournaments, was a general sports enthusiast, he still managed to do dumb stuff from time to time.

Woods

Sharah had ‘heard’ him coming, not focusing on what the ‘noise’ sounded like or the specific thoughts that were being said. And so she had moved out of the way…sort of. She tended to get so immersed with the plants that she lost herself. She had been warned over and over again not to do that. However, it was the only relief that she got from the constant bombardment, the turbulent ocean that she couldn’t control. Most days she surfed above it able to maintain the boat and it’s position. Other days she simply kept it from capsizing, and others she drowned. The plants were simple, their emotions basic, their needs few. Their consciousness was on a deeper more primal level.

And that is what had her working in this particular bed today, the music, their harmony was disrupted. One of the red campion’s roots had gotten tangled and it was strangling. And so she’d been working and digging and gently untangling, moving about to undo the knot and had ended up, she was no longer in the flower bed, but in the middle of the path as she worked.

So as Woods came around and almost tripped over her, she had moved away from the new ‘noise’ - instinctual - but not quite far enough or fast enough. She ended up semi crashed into a sitting position in the dirt from where she’d been crouching. And with the sudden pull back to reality so did her awareness of the noise and storm that raged around her, making her wince noticeably with a sharp intake of breath. She resisted the urge to pull at her hair. “Sorry,” she saw the hand extend from her peripheral vision, and instinctively moved away. Betazoids didn’t need touch to use their telepathy, it was strong enough without it, and Sharah was…well Sharah, and stronger than most. She’d learned a long time ago that touch made the noise significantly worse. So she’d learned to avoid casual contact. “I should not have been working in the middle of the path…” She pulled herself up an inquisitive look crossing her face as she turned to look at the person she’d tripped, “Oh…it’s you.”

Fayth