Promised Land - Part I
2375
"This affinity" [the Captain replied] "is sufficiently striking in the case of alkalis and acids, which, although they are mutually antithetical, and perhaps precisely because they are so, most decidedly seek and embrace one another, modify one another, and together form a new substance." ... "Forgive me," said Charlotte, "as I forgive the scientist, but ... the choice seems to me to lie entirely in the hands of the chemist who brings these substances together. Once they have been brought together, though, God help them!"
Unexpected. That was certainly the best word to describe the experience. Or maybe it should not have been. Maybe she of all people should not be this surprised. Yet she was walking these streets, her astonishment of course completely invisible to anyone but the man by her side, the man who took all this with his usual open mind and unquenchable curiosity, and she was both puzzled and - no point in denying it - somewhat overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensations.
All of the Empire seemed to be coming and going, checking the wares of the countless merchants at their stalls and shops, haggling, laughing, shouting and waving greetings, it was inexplicable how they were even able to hear their own thoughts. Throngs of people clustered here and there at particularly popular spots and the scent of pastries, flowers and ale wafted above it all in a symphony that was both intriguing and beginning to give her a minor headache.
And through it all they moved, the people, the scents and the noise, the man beside her carrying the little one who so excitedly waved her arms at all this commotion and she, the one who should have looked more familiar to them, yet still drew more bemused glances than the man and child with eyes as dark as night skies.
Once again she reminded herself to adjust her body language, to walk as casually as possible, after all what use was it to leave the uniform behind if one still moved as if trapped in hostile territory?
Her mate caught the fleeting thought and chuckled while at the same time turned a bit to prevent the little one to snatch a - well, some sort of bread, apparently - from someone’s basket.
'Almost there, Imzadi. But you do look as if you could use a drink’
Though their bond she sensed his amusement, mingled with mild concern.
And she did not object when his hand reached for hers, not only to reassure but for the logical reason that otherwise they might get separated in the crush.
To the casual onlooker she was only a stately looking woman in somber, if somewhat old fashioned robes, moving serenely through the bustle of the market. But everyone who looked longer than the fraction of a second would notice something a bit off, unless of course they saw the alien man and the lively child first.
It was just as well that he had insisted on carrying the little one, she was so enthralled by her surroundings and interested in everything from a small bird perched on a roof to the lettuce-like blue leaves offered at a stall, there was no telling what might have happened if she somehow had gotten loose and decided to do some exploring of her own. Just a few days ago the child had yet again proven her extraordinary speed and resourcefulness when she had escaped their quarters - and incidentally her father who had fallen asleep from exhaustion - and arrived on the bridge, followed, inexplicably, by Lieutenant Eichenlaub’s cat. Thankfully, the Captain had taken the episode with good humor and simply asked that both child and cat should be returned to the safety of their respective quarters.
“Svai! ‘akov!” obviously, they had reached the shop her mate had been looking for, and the child happily announced that fact.
“Yes, little one. Very pretty flowers. No, we need to ask first… oh dear.” She had managed to grab a blossom of most pleasing color and scent and presented it to her father by way of literally waving it under his nose.
“Lagga” the shop owner nodded, favoring the child with an eye-crinkling smile. “She sure knows what she likes. You are from the lloannen'galae ship?”
“Hm? Oh, yes. I’m sorry. Good day to you.“
“The very same to you and yours,” the elderly man replied with a small bow and a glance in the tall, silent woman’s direction. “May I offer you a refreshment?”
“Why yes, thank you.“ the younger man nodded and gracefully accepted the cup, just barely saving it from his little one’s inquisitiveness “I heard you have seeds for sale as well? Would it be possible…”
The ebony-haired woman left her beloved to dive into all the botanical marvels this planet had to offer, the brief smile in her mind barely visible at the corners of her mouth. The joy he felt over being here, able to immerse himself not only in what was both his profession and passion, but the entire culture, so alien and so fascinating, the deep pride and happiness he felt when the child in his arms shared in his delight by demanding to be shown more plants, more of everything, and was indulged by a most courteous and truly patient merchant - it all radiated off him like heat from the desert soil, warm and constant, even after dark has fallen.
She slowly wandered the shop, yet again bemused by all the abundance of fruits and flowers, offered by a world so unlike her own. It was difficult to conceive what those who first came upon this place must have felt - a paradise with golden skies after an eternity of hardship.
Sha-ka-ri - they must have thought. Mirage, an illusion brought about by faulty sensors and minds desperate to find something, anything after the long, cold night of space.
She could imagine the joy when finally every sensor reading was confirmed, when it was clear there was no illusion. What she could not imagine was the sensation of actually seeing, touching, knowing, for the first time. Tracing the petals of a delicate, magenta-hued blossom with long, slender fingers, she experienced that sensation of something important, some discovery just beyond the reach of conscious thought.
But then the sounds of footsteps made her turn and from the look on the men’s faces it was clear both had concluded the trade to mutual satisfaction.
“Your lady has the same exquisite taste as your daughter it seems”
“So she does” there was laughter twinkling in the black eyes and before she knew it, her arms were filled with exotic flowers, the warm and sweet scent almost making her dizzy. There was no point in protesting, as neither her mate nor the merchant who smiled so readily and insisted on feeding the child pale purple berries he called ‘ihor’ would have listened.
She took great care to not do the polite man any discourtesy by showing even the mildest sign of exasperation and inclined her head gracefully.
‘Only one more stop, Imzadi’
He tried to wipe some of the purple berry juice from the little one’s face, but only succeeded in spreading it a little further. Despite herself, she felt a surge of silent laughter wanting to erupt. ‘Only one? I must admit to astonishment.’
“We can always take the grand tour.” he chuckled and turned back towards the man with the silver streaked hair
“Thank you again, and - Jolan tru?”
“Jolan’tru.” the merchant confirmed with a small bow.
Promised Land - Part I
2375
O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea,
Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free,
Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam,
Survey our Empire, and behold our home!
These are our realms, no limit to their sway,—
Our flag the sceptre all who meet obey.
(Lord Byron)
If they had drawn attention to themselves before, they certainly did now.
Sure there were a few off-worlders cautiously navigating their way through the crowded streets, watched carefully by civilians and uniformed personnel alike, but for the most part people were too busy to spare more than a glance or two. So, the people from that lloannen'galae ship had received permission to do some shopping and what they called ‘exploring’. They better behave themselves. There were more important things to worry about. Dinner for example. And why was no one watching this inquisitive child? She was going to get hurt if… well that was certainly a sight for sore eyes.
Amidst a chorus of chuckles and some irritated glances, the Betazoid chased after his little one, trying to prevent another incident like the one with the bread and the flowers, but Deities knew this child was not only fast but near unstoppable if she wanted to.
And now she was.. oh dear. The crate with pale lavender colored berries had caught her attention and with a joyful gurgle, the toddler leaned over the edge and… tipped over.
A quite puzzled but thankfully not angry looking merchant retrieved the child whose face and wild black curls were now satiated with berry juice.
“Ihor.” the little one declared proudly, prompting an actual grin from the woman with the salt-and-pepper hair. “Aren’t you just…” the woman cradling the little girl in her arm paused when she saw a rather breathless male coming to a skidding halt in front of her, his face displaying equal amounts of humor and embarrassment.
What did this alien want?
“My sincere apologies, Madame. I will of course reimburse…”
“This is YOUR child?”
The woman looked back at the little girl with the elegantly shaped ears and noted that indeed her unusually black eyes looked very much like … well, judging from the way she waved her little arms at him, …
The way those Feds were interbreeding, it could confuse even the most reasonable person.
“You should be more careful.” she said sternly, handing the child back to her father.
“Indeed he should.” A stately looking woman walked up to them, one eyebrow raised in a most eloquent manner. But there really was no doubt about that one’s heritage. Was the whole Fed Fleet going to converge at her shop today?
‘Seven point four minutes. A new record I should think.’
‘Proving my point that you CAN leave the two of us out of your sight for five minutes. Just not seven.’
‘Point four.’
‘Quite right, Imzadi. Quite right.’
Snorting in mild disdain, the elderly merchant pointed at the Vulcan woman “Not very logical to leave these two running around causing trouble, is it?”
“I am inclined to agree.”
“Thought so.”
About 12.8 minutes later, the three of them were making their way down another street, leaving behind a woman who had not only been well compensated for the lost fruit but in fact had sold her entire supply of Ihor for the day. Might as well stock up on them since the little one had developed a taste for it.
“So did you find the one we’re looking for?”
“There is a 98.7 percent probability that this merchant will have… no, ko-kan. I do not believe you should attempt to climb this roof. The bird would be long gone in any case.”
“Ku’shel.”
“Indeed.”
The Vulcan woman stood in the warm sunlight filtering through one of the windows, attempting with limited success to stop her nose from wrinkling. The scent of the exotic flowers she was carrying mixed with the intense aroma of the wines in this shop was proving quite … interesting.
As was, for that matter, the icy politeness of the shop’s owner who now was showing minor signs of frustration as well.
The little one, once again safely on her father’s arms, was completely entranced by the play of light on the purple blue liquids and thankfully seemed not inclined to take another shot at exploring.
‘Imzadi?’
“What about this one?”
The merchant’s really quite striking features showed a small frown now as the elegant Vulcan woman slowly shook her head. Following her nose, quite literally, she picked up one of the samples provided and held it out to her mate.
“This, I should think.”
“Holy Rings of Betazed.”
A wave of amusement coursed between the Vulcan and the Betazoid, unseen and unfelt by anyone but possibly the little one who gave a small giggle before waving her little hand at a beautiful pitcher made of stained glass.
Leaving her beloved to negotiating the price, the raven haired Vulcan was at first surprised to hear the low price asked by the merchant. Surely, this wine was worth a multitude… when she heard her mate’s counter-offer however, both brows shot up in utter astonishment. Was he attempting to buy the entire store and four more like it? Yet his smile conveyed that he was rather certain what he was doing … fascinating.
And indeed, the merchant seemed pleased. Surprised, as his brief glance in her direction confirmed, but pleased nonetheless.
This would require further research. But for the moment, she would either need to find a place that was slightly more quiet than this bustling, exuberant city, or a bottle of the wine. Either should suffice.
[Some time later, USS Bellerophon, Transporter Room two]
“Evening, Commander. Mr Tyrax. Had a good time?”
“You could say so, Chief.” the Betazoid chuckled, shifting the child’s weight a bit. She was leaning against his shoulder now, breathing softly and clinging to the ‘Lagga’ she had been given by the first merchant.
“Don’t mean to bother you, but there’s a shipment of seedlings and such sitting in the cargo bay and someone’s been throwing a fit. Import regulations, health concerns, whathaveyou. Science signed off on it but you know them bureaucrats, they want the botanist who ordered them things to take a look.”
“Of course they do.” The dark eyed man turned to his Imzadi who simply nodded and placed the sweet smelling flowers carefully onto the stairs before holding out her arms to the little one.
“Well, those people are nothing if not prompt, have to grant them that. Where to, Chief?”
“Cargo bay three, Mr Tyrax. And aye, prompt they are. Stuff arrived over two hours ago.”
“Not bad considering the gentleman had to order some of the stuff himself first.”
He gently placed the child into her mother’s waiting arms before picking up the flowers and smiling at the two people who meant more to him than even a Betazoid had words for.
Chief Bonan watched with a father’s practiced eye how carefully the Vulcan Commander held the little one with the wild black curls and grinned just a bit when he saw that the girl could barely keep her eyes open. Yup, asleep. Amazing how kids could do that, really. “Good night then, Commander T’Sora.”
“Good night, Chief Bonan.”
She walked down the corridor to their quarters and felt the child stir in her sleep. For a moment, she experienced a surge of concern. Vulcans, even hybrids, rarely dreamed and if they did, it was usually a sign of distress. There was the temptation to enter that dream, it would be so easy, and make it go away, leaving nothing but peace and comfort. Chiding herself just a little for this possible overreaction, she carried the little one into their quarters and ordered low lights. Studying the face framed by unruly black hair, she felt her grip tighten around the girl’s small body. Sakarra did not complain, although the smile lingering on her happy features grew just a little wider and she relaxed against her mother’s chest.
Dreams of birds and flowers and a golden sky floated at the outer rims of the girl’s consciousness and if anyone had seen the expression on T’Sora’s face, they might not have recognized the calm and unshakeable Science Officer. Feeling her daughter’s rapidly beating heart under her hands, the Vulcan smiled enigmatically. “Vakh hal-tor ish-veh.”