STF

Another New Ship

Posted Sept. 26, 2021, 12:04 a.m. by Lieutenant Junior Grade Sharah Fayth (Medical) (Jennifer Ward)

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

Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Sharah Fayth (Medical) in Another New Ship

Posted by Lieutenant Markus Woods (Chief Science Officer) in Another New Ship
Posted by… suppressed (4) by the Post Ghost! 👻

(Snip)

Sharah was good at keeping her own thoughts to herself, it was blocking out others that was outside of her capability. She didn’t say it, but his thoughts about wanting to know more about her, curiosity, interest, attraction, were all things she’d ‘heard’ before from others. It didn’t have to be directed at her, she heard it anyway. It was unsettling to hear someone else’s thoughts and how they found themselves attracted to others…those were intimate thoughts and Sharah hated hearing them. Even if they were directed towards her. Such thoughts had created a type of trauma for her since she was very little. But she’d worked through a lot of that with Di’nui, the CNS on her last posting. Now, she might be embarrassed, or unsure how to respond to such thoughts directed about her, but at least such stray thoughts didn’t capsize her little boat now. At least not most of the time. “It’s good advice. No one knows that better than me.”

She looked down at what she was doing and then to the side at the tools in a small bin just out of reach. “Could you hand me watering can?” The roots were stuck and tangled in dry hard packed dirt, making it hard to untangle. She started singing softly, but Markus would hear it, but it wasn’t verbal or telepathic, it was empathic, and he would sense her total focus was on the plant in front of her.

Fayth

The flash that followed as she reoriented caused him to draw back a bit. He’d stepped on a mine. At her request for the water can he nodded. It was almost a third of a meter out of reach for him. Instead of getting up, his hand stretched out and then it slid into his grip? It was hard to tell from only the corner of one’s vision. Effortlessly he passed it to her, turning it so he presented it handle first. “Here ya go.” He’d gone mentally silent by then, the noise of his thoughts gone. But his emotions were still there in a mix of chagrin consternation, determination, and focus. All directed inward. He wasn’t exactly beating himself up, but he wasn’t happy either.

Sharah felt a strange energy almost telepathic but not. She allowed it to flow past her without further thought. There were so many things it could be and so many species and people on board she wasn’t concerned by it. She looked up and smiled her thanks. “Thank you, Markus,” as she took the can. She poured a little over the tangle.

For the moment he simply returned to watching, observing. Everything from body language, to the way she approached her task, tone of voice, or in this case, mental and emotional context. Not that he was trying to intrude, but rather taking in more information, learning, filing away for later. After a minute or two, he considered excusing himself. He’d only come in to relax for a minute and get a couple items for making himself something to eat, choosing to cook rather than purely replicate.

But the empathic song, while directed at the plant soothed his own nerves and he found his shoulders dropping, relaxing once more. Allowing himself the simple pleasure of listening, and letting it take him somewhere else. Closing his eyes, he seemed to almost fall into meditation, listening, becoming not just silent but still within a few seconds.

Woods

Sharah continued to work as her empathic ‘song’ continued to flow and spread. It promised the warmth of the sun and security of rich loam, and brought to mind a playful breeze and refreshing rain. There was no way to know what images a person would as robe to those feelings, but the feelings conveyed would be the same: peace, security, happiness.

Finally, the roots were untangled. With one hand she held the bush out of the soil while with the other she dug a deeper hole and loosened the dirt. She gently placed the roots into the loosened dirt and gently began to fill the space until the Champion was secure in its new spot with plenty of room to spread out. She looked up at Markus and gasped softly seeing him in a meditative like state. She knew though what had happened - her. She quieted the song slowly. She didn’t want to startle him. After there was guilt and apology. Her voice was very quiet, “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” She quickly started putting things back in the crate, while she mentally berated herself and reminded herself again why she was supposed to always never forget to be in control. And here she thought she might actually have a normal conversation, but she wasn’t normal.

Fayth

As her song began to fade, disappointment rolled off of him.Not in her, just that it was going away. He sighed a little. It wasn’t hard to pick up on her mortification. As she apologized he shook his head, bringing his hands up in a gentle but forestalling gesture. “That was lovely. You have nothing to apologize for,” he said. A little sadness tinged his words but only mentally. She thought she’d done something wrong, that something was wrong with her. “Sharah…” he said gently. “stay. Please. Everything is alright. There’s no need to run off.” A whiff of confusion drifted off him, as to why she would be about to flee, but at the same time gentle reassurance. This was a safe space, and more over, he could handle himself. He was a big boy.

Woods

Sharah sighed and it could be felt not just heard. How to explain without having to explain her illness? “I did not mean to influence your mood. I was just…” he would probably not believe her. Only one person had ever believed her about the plants, Uncle Ollie. She touched the leaves of the Campion, almost like it was a pet and not a plant. “He was hurting and cold. I was trying to make him feel better while I worked.” But she sat back down at the edge of the path. “I have to be careful of my…condition. It’s easy to get lost in the songs.” She could tell throughout their interaction that he was curious, had an active and scientific mind. She grinned, she wouldn’t exactly call him a ‘boy.’ And she turned red realizing he would have heard that thought as easily as she had heard his. And then curiosity on her part about how he came to have such talents.

Fayth

She seemed to calm a little and sat. He gave her a small, reassuring nod as he listened with ears and mind. “Plants don’t exactly have higher order intelligence, mostly. Most aren’t even on the level of animals. But they do feel. They are alive.” He nodded. “And they do respond to others as a lot of experiments have shown. They feel pain, they have needs. They respond well to positivity, care. A loved plant is always healthier than one that’s simply being taken care of ‘just because’.” Mark shrugged one shoulder. “I spent a lot of time in my grandmother’s garden and helping with her plants. Learned a lot.”

She tipped her head looking at him, he believed her. Most people didn’t despite even scientific evidence of such things. “When I was 10 I met a science officer, the botanist, on a ship that we had passage on. He taught me everything I know. He showed me how plants could help me and I could help them.” There was an image that flashed between them, of a very tiny bonsai tree and the word ‘Hope’.

“Condition?” At the thought about him not being a boy, he smiled. She wasn’t just a girl either, but a youthful though seasoned doctor, though she should have at least four more years to go. Genius-level intelligence there, easy on the eyes, and by everything so far, a good heart and personality. Crap. He caught himself, but then sighed. Whatever. There’s no point in walking on eggshells all the time.

She blushed at his thoughts, the color flushing her skin quickly. She should have four more years but again that was part of her condition. She took a deep breath and looked resigned. “My ‘condition’ is a heavy topic and a long conversation.” But she aknowledge that perhaps it would not be for him, long that is, except for maybe his questions. There was no apprehension there. She accepted he wanted information because he wanted to learn, to know, to have all the details, and not simply assuming he wanted to question the ‘oddity’.

At her subtle unspoken interrogative about his abilities, a flicker of an image popped up for a split second, like a single frame spliced into a movie, there and gone again. “Do you want the Cliff Notes version, or the movie version?”

Mark

“Which are you most comfortable with? If you want to share at all.” Then, rather than simply feelings and impressions he heard her ‘voice’ in his head. ‘I am curious, Markus, but you don’t have to share if it makes you uncomfortable or simply don’t want to.’

Fayth


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