Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Sharah Fayth (Medical) in side sim - Plant Food

Posted by Lieutenant Markus Woods (Chief Science Officer) in side sim - Plant Food

Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Sharah Fayth (Medical) in side sim - Plant Food
Posted by… suppressed (3) by the Post Ghost! 👻

(snip)
Once the doors shut she leaned against him again, resisting the urge to tug at her hair. “It’s okay, she was nice. They all are, even if they stare a lot and are curious. It’s not their fault.” The doors opened and they were on the opposite end of the deck from her quarters. Sharah was at the very end of a corridor along the outside hull. As few ‘neighbors’ as possible. The only request she ever made, usually she was lucky to get it. She pressed her palm to the biometric reader - she liked them. The door swished open and she stepped inside. It was a studio layout. There was a door to a small refresher to the left and her bed was to the right along the outside hull of the ship. A work station was immediately to the left of the door, a couch and short table directly in front. There was a small replicator as well and a tote that was half packed or unpacked. The room was very neat and tidy, in direct contrast to her mental head space.

Sharah

Markus helped her in and then took her over to the couch, easing her down, sitting or laying, her choice. Then he moved over to the replicator, and begin pulling things out of the energy matrix. Coming back, he had a glass of water, an ice pack, and a cool compress. ‘Might not be much, but outside of medication, it helps with my migraines when I get them.’ His mental contact was gentle, feather-light. He pressed one cool hand to her forehead, and let the other scoop into the back of her neck, just for a few moments. It would help any shock from any of the colder stuff.

“Do you go through this every time you transfer ships,” he asked, his voice barely above the idiot air scrubber systems.

Markus

Sharah sat on the couch, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around her legs, as small as she could get. It didn’t help, but it was instinctual. His hands were cool and teased at easing the burning throbbing. The headache wasn’t really the noise at this point, it was the after effect of diving into storm and the tension and pain that caused. She rested her head into his hands and allowed his touch to be an anchor point in the dizziness. She avoid telepathy for the moment and moving her head. “Every time. Even sometimes if a large portion of the crew gets transferred out.” The words were soft and slow in coming, careful of her own volume. As the dizziness eased somewhat she leaned back, expecting the couch cushions but partially leaned against him.

From the vantage point of the couch, the work station could be seen. There were several real books on the shelves behind it, and two pictures. A third frame could be seen face down on the desk. There was a large visual display that was blank and then another on a swivel arm. It was a geographic map with hundreds of different color coded lines on it. If Markus was familiar with alien planets he would recognize the geographic map as a globe of Betazed. There was an assortment of PaDDs on the desk top as well. On the small bedside table was a small delta wave device, a stand alone alarm clock and taking up the majority of the space was a beautiful cherry blossom bonsai. It wasn’t as big as the bonsai Markus had, but she was budding and beautiful. Her pot sat in a water bowl and was covered in fine gravel and a velvety layer of moss.

Sharah

For the moment he remained still and quiet, with her leaned against him. Shifting a little, he set it so she could lean back against him more. Though his focus was on her, his gaze slowly traveled around her quarters, taking in the space. It was, of course, smaller than his. But for a starship it was spacious and comfortable. The inducer and the workstation stood out to him, as well as the bonsai across the way. The space, he realized, had a calming, soothing effect on him, even as he worried over her quietly. Whether it was by her design, or by nature of the makers of the Viking-class itself, he wasn’t sure. He only hoped that it helped her.

Markus

Sharah found his presence very soothing and comfortable. But after a moment of being leaned against him she was able to wonder why that was and the fact she barely knew him but yet his presence was so familiar and welcome. When silently offered she accepted the ice pack on the back of her neck. Her quarters were meant to be neat and orderly. In a life filled with chaos it was soothing to her to come here at the end of the day and everything had a place and a purpose. After several long quiet moments, where Sharah was curiously confused by how she was reacting to Markus she stirred. She stretched out of the curled up position she had been in and sat up some but not away from him. She wasn’t better but more just accepting the way she was being buffeted. Better would take longer but acceptance and familiarity with the mind around her helped keep her above water. ‘Do you want something to eat or drink? I asked you to dinner.‘ [not to have to take care of me.] She waved towards the desk and the display there. She had also offered to show him her research. ‘I’ve been tracking the movements of all the people we know to be like me.‘

Sharah

At her question about something to eat or drink he gave a half laugh. “I was going to ask you if you wanted or needed anything,” he murmured aloud. “And if you want, I can make dinner while you show and tell on your research?” Multi-tasking was something most people weren’t good at, statistically. Some species were better than others. In many ways each task equally suffered. But sometimes, something that was mostly mindless and menial when mixed with something that required more focus. Sweeping a floor and going over physics equations at the same time, for example. Of course, they could replicate something, and it would still be good, just not as good as actual cooking. And if they had fresh, non-replicated ingredients to start, even better. But he doubted like there was anything like that on hand. Even the arboretum wasn’t meant to actually feed a crew of a thousand.

Mark

“I only have the replicator, and not enough room to keep anything fresh. Besides…” It wasn’t safe for her to cook alone anyway. Last time she had burned her hand badly. “Quarters on my last posting had a kitchen. Mythology Class ships are a bit indulgent.” If he wanted to make something she wasn’t going to stop him. He felt as if he would like to and Sharah wanted him to do what he enjoyed. She got up moving through the dizziness, ignoring the half stumble as if it was part of her usual gait. She sat down at the work station, the display changing as she tapped a few keys. “We have records or mentions of super sensitives going back thousands of years, more really if you count folklore.” Data scrolled, EEGs, MRIs, other brain scans and blood work. “All are characterized but abnormally high activity in the paracortex, unsafe and dangerous levels of the hormone produced there, but doesn’t seem to affect other brain or bodily functions as expected. No commonality in blood types or in genetics.”

Sharah

“Not to worry,” he said. “Replicators for quarters are designed for food and drink but will still make quite a lot outside of that. I could make a pistol or phaser if I needed.” He slipped to his feet and made his way over, listening as he went. Within moments he had a nice induction plate and a wok in place, which was heating up. Then started pulling out a set of ingredients, and another device. Silently he warned her that he’d be making some noise, then quickly made what he wanted in the food processor he’d replicated, emptied it, then recycled the processor back into the replicator, done with it. into the wok went aromatics such as onion and garlic, then a little chili pepper. More meat and vegetables.

Sharah watched for a moment, feeling a little bad about the effort he was putting in. The only table in the room was either her desk and then the coffee table. She really didn’t have the space for a table and chairs. Well maybe she did, it just seemed to much clutter for just her. She moved some things out of the way so he could use some of the desk top if need be rather than bending over the coffee table. At the warning of the noise she slipped into telepathy and then stopped after finishing her thought. How strange to be so comfortable with someone she barely knew. It should be easy, she was Betazoid, but most people on her planet avoided ‘speaking’ to her, afraid they might catch whatever she had. The aroma he was creating had a wonderful focusing effect. Strong sensory experiences helped her focus. That’s why she loved working with plants so much, it focused all of her physical senses.

The fact that there were no genetic anomalies that they could find gave him a headache. There had to be a variation. The body didn’t just make itself wrong without a bad blueprint. “What about environmental factors? Radiation? Chemical exposures?… I know, I know. That sounds like a superhero origin. But those things do have an effect. Like cancer, or other alteration. My other thought is that maybe it’s some kind of metabolic issue, if it’s just over-active? What about other neurotransmitter imbalances or differences?”

Mark

“I’ve looked into that, there simply isn’t enough data to make any hypothesis. It’s possible there is a genetic component but there have only been 3 of us in the last century, that we know of. Well three of us that survived to adulthood. There were a few others, but…” There was a wave of immense sadness and gut wrenching fear, “They…didn’t survive....My mother has no telepathic ability to speak of but my father is considered one of our strongest telepaths. I thought that was the key, their combined DNA, it was the same for Hent Tevren, but that idea was discarded with Tam Elbrum. His parents were both strong telepaths and there were no ‘non-telepaths’ in his family. Of course that could be a lie. Elbrum is one of the great houses. It is possible they would not admit to such a thing. I was born in the cliff caves near my home during the occupation. I have been in contact with the environmental geologists and ecologists to see if there was something there,” Sharah, without looking, reached behind her to the shelf and picked up a rock. It looked ordinary enough but she turned it over and over in her hands, as if it held answers.

“But so far nothing that could be pinpointed to see if Elbrum or Tevren were also exposed to. I also thought it might be circumstances, like a type of psychic trauma. Right after I was born…the resistance attacked the Jem’hadar psychically. I thought perhaps exposure to that might have triggered my condition but there are no others like me. There are also no reports of any kind of intense psychic exposure to Elbrum or Tevren. As for over active systems, it’s just the para-cortex and the psilosynine produced there. And then there are the older tales, before more advanced medicine came along, myths really.”

‘That smells amazing.‘

Sharah

Working the ingredients over, he mixed stirring and flipping to make sure everything rotated and shifted to cook evenly. At her silent comment he just smiled. Pride and enjoyment rolled off of him, but mixed with frustration at the lack of data. Silently he called into question some of Betazed’s scientific practices but quickly waved it away. There was nothing he could do about that. No sense stressing over it. Much less in a way that she might take it as a personal matter. It wasn’t her fault. On any part of it.

‘In the words of the famous Sherlock Homes… “Data, data, data. I cannot make bricks without clay.”’ he mused silently, then went back to stirring. “What do the myths and legends say,” he asked out loud. There was always a grain of truth in those matters. Somewhere. Even if it was a dust mote, floating in a sunbeam. It started somewhere.

Mark

There was an echoing feeling of frustration from her. There was no reason to not have more data. Betazed had been technologically advanced enough for centuries to have data and be able to track and analyze her condition. She sighed reaching into a drawer and pulling out a PaDD and scrolled through. “The earliest stories talk about demons who can control the minds of whole armies. Some mention great leaders who were able to predict with absolute certainty the actions of others and keep the people safe. Some talk about children who were possessed by the minds of demons, peacekeepers, shamans. They are all dotted with tales of immense pain and strangeness in the behaviors of the person. Later stories....many people cast the children out, left to starve, shunned them, afraid of them, some ran away on their own. Some returned, claiming to have been cured, many of the stories end, claiming the child eventually found ‘home’. The way they are written though it’s difficult to tell it home was an actual place or more an abstract idea.” At the word ‘home’ she pulled the swiveled display over and stared hard at the myriad multicolored markers and lines.

She tossed the PaDD down, frustrated. “We have more mythical and legendary stories of super-sensitives than we do hard data.”

Sharah

“My history is a little rusty,” he said, stopping what he was doing as the gears of his mind turned, rolling and turning the data, the stories over in his head. Yes, they were anecdotal, but there was no reason for anyone to lie about those events, so far as he knew. His own people had their own accounts of psychic and paranormal abilities. Hell, he’d tested high for ESP potential when he’d joined Starfleet. And then the encounter with the device seemed to have brought it out in a very big way. He was living proof.

“When did your people first attain warp drive?” Odd question, he knew. But perhaps the answer wasn’t on Betazed. Even more so, perhaps those folks had gotten offworld y other visitors. Or there had been outside influence by a species with no Prime Directive. Perhaps even the same species that made the device.

“The Avandar launched in 2139. These stories go back to our ancient history.” Following his train of thought easily she seemed willing to accept the idea that some off world alien visitors had something to do with it. There were legends of demons of pain and anger attacking whole villages. Instead of a super sensitive being out of control it could have been aliens. “Tam Elbrum left with Tin Man. His last message said that he had finally found his place, he was home.” Sharah sighed then, “But that was the last we heard of him. We have no idea if he is still alive or not. I would give almost anything to be able to talk to him.”

At the same time the universe was interesting. Everything had an equal and opposite. Balance of mathematical precision. Cause and effect. It stood to reason that if someone like Sharah was so strong and wobbling out of control in an erratic orbit, there had to be a stabilizing force. All life flows in a circle, and it can be terribly out of balance until one finds their center. Center, which one could think of as home. Maybe it was a place. Maybe it was a person. Maybe it was both. Maybe it was finding a missing aspect of ones’ self. Or even all of those things.

No closer to answers, he frowned and went back to attending to the frying and steaming food . REaching over he turned off the heat, then gave it a few more tosses, stirring it around, sending up billows of steam.

Markus turned back toward her, his stirring ladle in hand, half pointed in her direction. “Do any of these stories involve them having a partnership, sidekick, lover, etcetera? Or a place they visited often? Not necessarily the same place for all of them, but somewhere personal to each individual.”

Markus

Sharah was stilled momentarily by the focus Markus was giving the topic. She wasn’t sure what to make of it, no one, not even her doctors on Betazed had really looked at her research, not the social research anyway. She pushed it away though, she’d think about it later. She picked up another PaDD and scrolled through. “That’s what this is,” she pointed to the screen with all the color. “I’ve been trying to track where they lived, where they moved to or traveled. My planetary science expert on the Ark Angel helped me some. Trying to account for plate tectonics and climate change of time. If it’s there, I don’t see it. There are a few places, here, here, and here where they seems to over lap, but it’s by centuries at least. I would love to visit these places. I never got the chance.” Then she was quiet for awhile, going through notes and cross referencing stories from the first PaDD. She shook her head, “All those that claimed a cure or having found ‘home’…the ones who returned/went back, had a companion. Some married…the stories aren’t clear. At quick glance there are a few, the older ones, that talk about great leaders and such speak of spouses, but some seemed find and others not…wait…” she went back into the stories and then nodded. “All of them…the ones claiming to be healed, home, finding their place, they all either had a companion/spouse or spoke of one. There aren’t any details about them though.”

Sharah

Carefully he went to plating a few moments later, then shifted the wok back into the replicator along with the cooking gear, then brought over a steaming stir-fry with vegetables, rice, and what would have been beef it it hadn’t been replicated. This he sat down at the ow table in front of the couch. “Well, that’s a pretty good data point. We should take a closer look at it. A common through-line for a solve. It may turn out to be coincidence. Or it could be very important. For now… let’s get some food in you. In both of us. Bring your pads over here.”

This might turn into a working dinner, but he didn’t care. As long as she wasn’t miserable, and they could make progress, then that mattered the most. But in truth he was just happy to be able to spend time with her, and maybe help her. Rather than sitting in his quarters like a bump on a log.

Mark