Past Prologue

Posted on Wed Jan 1st, 2025 @ 1:37am by Captain Malcom Llwyedd & Lieutenant Gale Deekros

1,338 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Interlude 1 Gamma Quadrant
Location: USS Mirar
Timeline: 5 years ago

[ON]

“Your shift ended four hours ago, Mr. Deekros.”

The interruption to the blessed silence that had graced his work – and perhaps one too many brews of klaza leaves – made Gale jump from his chair. At least the voice was T’ara’s familiar purr; if it had been anyone else, there might have been a very undignified yelp for a newly minted Lieutenant j.g.

“Just a bit of personal research,” the Trill replied, resting his hand over his heart, feeling the pounding beneath his fingers slow. Maybe this last mug of klaza should be it for the night. “Do you remember that planet we visited last week?”

“Only the considerable work we had to do to the transporters to ensure we could beam into the caverns,” T’ara replied. “But please, tell me about what has inspired this late night.”

“There is so much I could tell you – the diversity of life in those caverns alone, and how they have adapted to a complete lack of sunlight, is nothing short of incredible. Xenobiology is going to be busy for WEEKS just categorizing the fungal life we found there, although we had to be extremely careful not to give offense to what turned out to be an empathic, fungal-based sentient life!” Gale chuckled, shaking his head. “It would be poor form to collect what we thought was a mere biological specimen that turned out to be some poor being’s child.”

“So, it’s a mushroom that’s turned your head,” T’ara said as she slid into the seat next to him, drawing up her feline legs beneath her.

“Not quite! It’s the soil that a particular mushroom grows in, and an entirely new mineral in said soil.” Gale pushed his half-full mug of klaza back, both because explaining his excitement to T’ara had re-energized him, and his hands were moving with such speed and fluidity he was worried he’d knock it over. “While one of our away teams was there, they observed a ritual. A trader to one of the underground villages had received some sort of head injury years back and had lost good portions of his memory. The fungal beings brought forth – an absolutely noble, stalk-like mushroom to the trader, said a few words over it – the anthropology teams have much more research on the ritual itself – and then made a decoction from it. Within...minutes, maybe even seconds, the man’s memory returned to him. Unfortunately, he also seemed to recover a rather nasty personality, which the trader’s wife – and I assume now his ex-wife – verified as being his original state, versus any effect of the fungus.”

“A rather bittersweet story, but I’ve yet to see how a cantankerous man regaining his memory would have you so….worked up,” T’ara said drolly, casually licking a front paw.

“I am getting there,” Gale said, good-natured, pushing himself out of his chair. It felt good to stretch – his poor knees were protesting at sitting for so long – and this tale needed more than hand gestures. It needed a confident stride along with them. “Some local researchers offered to take one of our away teams – including me – to see where this fungus grew. I was clever enough to take soil samples when I noticed the rock this fungus was growing on seemed different from the surrounding layers.”

A slight smile started to tug at the Caitian’s features. “You always have been clever. I assume this is where you found the precious mineral that you’ve isolated?”

“Indeed it was! It doesn’t bear well being replicated – nor does the fungus that grows on it, which explains the ritual significance of the plant. It makes me wish I’d taken more samples,” Gale said with a sigh, running a hand through the hair at his temple. “I still need to confer with some colleagues, specifically neurobiology, but if this mineral - I'm thinking of calling it karsite, after the figure in Trill mythology - if it can help unlock memories thought to be lost or destroyed, do you know what this means?”

And then T’ara’s smile was gone again as she slowly shook her head. “No, but I am starting to think it has something to do with one Arel Miztra.”

“No matter your feelings regarding her, even you would agree that finding a way to restore the lost memories of one of Trill’s oldest and most venerated symbionts is a worthy cause.” Gale let out a slow breath, trying not to clench his fists.

“I would find it far more worthy,” T’ara growled, flexing a single claw, “if it wasn’t yet another unacknowledged, unappreciated gesture you lay at her feet when you should be out of this lab. You didn’t befriend a single other crewmember on the Chionthar – I won’t stand by while you work yourself to loneliness on another ship.”

“Get out of my lab and do what? Play one of Lt. Whatever His Name Is’ games of Three Dragon Ante? Because that is clearly the wisest use of my precious, irreplaceable time.” Gale knew his voice was snappish, but Gods, T’ara of all people should understand he couldn’t squander his potential.

“His name is Wyll Ravengard, and maybe he would be wiser if he understood that making friendships and real connections to people besides your manipulative field docent is maybe the best use of your off-duty hours.”

“For the last time, she is not manipulative-”

“You were hardly in any position to turn down her advances. If you’d turned her down – when you were hardly a day past the age of majority – she’d have drummed you out of the program. I think,” T’ara hissed, “that qualifies as manipulation.”

Gale closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. “I – I have always been mature for my age,” he said. Something Arel had always always told him, but Gods, had she even believed it? Did he?

Perhaps seeing the doubt flickering across his features, T’ara paused. He heard her rise from her chair and felt the soft velvet of her thankfully re-sheathed paw on his shoulder. “Even the most brilliant prodigies need time to recharge their busy brains,” she murmured. “And more so, they need friends to help chase away those doubts that plague them about only having worth insofar as they are useful.”

Gale opened his eyes, bringing a hand to rest upon his friend’s paw. “Why would I need other friends when I have you?”

“Strength in numbers,” T’ara said with a smirk.

Gale chuckled. It was soft and maybe he didn’t entirely feel it, but he also didn’t want to feel this helpless frustration that seemed to have haunted him so long as he could recall. “Gods forbid I argue math with the sharpest experimental physicist I know. Maybe...perhaps, I can try joining you for a few more….social activities. One night a week at least.”
“Two.” T’ara’s paw flexed between his hand and shoulder.

Gale didn’t want to know how resistant his uniform was to a Caitian’s claws. “Very well. Two nights.”

“Excellent.” T’ara’s grin, showing off her canines, could have illuminated even the darkest cave on that planet. “We’ll start tonight. I’m sure you’ve had nothing besides too many mugs of your little pick-me-up, and we need to get some food in you.”

Of course, Gale’s empty stomach chose that moment to betray him with a gurgle. “I can hardly protest that now, can I?”

“And over dinner, we can go over a very interesting holodeck program Wyll is thinking of starting,” T’ara said as she nudged them both out of the lab. “Tell me, Mr. Deekros, what do you know about dungeons and/or dragons?”

[OFF]

Lieutenant Gale Deekros
Science Officer
USS Firebird NCC-88298

 

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