Post by Deleted on Jun 3, 2017 9:24:24 GMT -8
"It's what you are, it's who you are. It's what we see when we look at you."
'Tekia' as defined by the people of Peleb USS Talon Cultural Logs - Gamma Quadrant Worlds
The hum of the Tricorder was the only noise besides breaking waves, the soft whisper of breezes, and the warble of indigenous sea fowl. Ensign Hesperus walked alone along the beach, the scanning instrument pointed out at the ocean, combing through various organic signatures for the figurative needle in a haystack. Her other hand held what amounted to a courier bag with breathing apparatus and specimen containers. Ten in all. Four filled with seaweed of different strains but of common variety, and one with a small flower she'd plucked root and all out of damp sand.
There was a specific, rare kind of seaweed she was searching for that had something akin to chromatophores; translucent naturally, it seemed invisible to the until a swimmer happened to brush into it, then, it would suddenly color up, appearing as though out of nowhere around whoever blundered.
Not dangerous in the least, it had a name in the local language that amounted to "Surprised by You", or "Harmless Jump Scare".
While the general orders were that of recuperation, Hesperus found a disposition towards discovery and exploration to be more satisfactory than frolicking...or meeting the Peleb people for that matter. A society where turning down hospitality was a serious insult presented a potential difficulty for a Zaldan that didn't appreciate politeness or courtesy very well.
This was part of the reason why she found an isolated section of beach to conduct her search and gathering on. Yet, it was not a completely isolated beach; her uniform didn't walk off on its own volition. Neither did her wetsuit, for that matter.
In the middle of changing, her uniform and undergarments neatly folded next to her wetsuit with combadge on top, she'd spotted the curious flower now in her possession. Her first specimen. Under the assumption she was by herself on the long stretch of saltwater and sand, Hesperus charged off, Tricorder, bag, and containers in tow.
When she returned, her uniform, undergarments, and wetsuit were gone, and in their place was a two piece ensemble made up of thin strings of elastic material connecting scanty triangle patches that barely promised coverage. Her combadge was set neatly on top of this new 'garment'.
The skimpy article of clothing was red. Patterned with splotches of yellow dots.
She was wearing it now.
She'd been wearing it since the afternoon when she arrived. And now well passed sunset.
Wondering to herself if the string up the back could get any less comfortable as she walked, and if she had inherited some sort of curse when it came to uniforms after being beamed out of one from the Flagstaff to DS10 several days back, she closed the Tricorder, then her eyes when a strong gust blew.
Cool.
Scented.
Moonlight.
Tranquil.
Sand that still bore the warmth of the set sun beneath her feet.
She was reminded of that first time she set foot on her homeworld, again. The input overload. This wasn't an overload, but a reminder that environments, real ones, were a gift to memory; a surreal blast of stimulation. There was something truly calming about this place, this world. Disconnected from warp cores, phasers, and holodecks, it begged one to consider the simple, yet intricate brilliance of life itself. Sometimes, all one needed was to breath, and to see.
The silvery light of the moon reflecting off the turbulent surface of the water was something hypnotic, and peaceful. Maybe she could tolerate the natives after all. She was disciplined enough to whether whatever, so maybe she could find it in herself to fraternize a bit with the locals.
Or anyone, really.
Hes didn't want to be alone, she realized.
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