Ensign Morton: V, N and the 'W' word
James
((The Mirror Gardens, Cryethrae))
After meeting with the Chief Science Officer, completing a tour of the labs, reading hundreds of pages of documentation and other files for her attention, Vala had turned her hand to other more meaningful duties. Now that her shift was done and she had some free time, she wanted to enjoy the Mirror Gardens. After all, this was one location she’d been particularly looking forward to visiting and she didn’t want to miss her chance. Especially since her last visit to the planet had been so beneficial.
Vala walked slowly through the Mirror Garden, taking her time to admire the crystal formations that had been so thoughtfully arranged throughout the space. Some were taller than she was, their glassy surfaces catching and redirecting light in gentle cascades. Clusters of chunky, substantial crystals anchored quiet alcoves, while delicate crystalline sprays emerged from between ferns and moss like frozen starbursts. The garden designers had clearly understood light. Every pool of water, every reflective surface worked together to create soft, shifting patterns rather than harsh glare.
A subtle harmony drifted through the air as the wind moved between the formations, each crystal contributing its own quiet note to the garden's song. The air itself felt different here, charged with a peaceful energy that seemed to slow her breathing and ease the tension from her shoulders.
She found herself drawn to a particular crystal whose surface gleamed with metallic gray shot through with pearlescent shimmer. It stood about waist-high, nestled beside a small pool where water trickled gently over smooth stones. The crystal looked almost liquid, like a glass vessel filled with swirling mercury that moved in response to some unseen current. As she shifted her position, she caught glimpses of her reflection fragmented and softened, as if the crystal was showing her a gentler version of herself.
Unable to resist, she reached out and touched the cool surface lightly, half-expecting her fingers to break through into liquid. Instead, she felt the unmistakable solidity of crystal, but with it came something else, a sensation like touching a tuning fork, except the vibration resonated somewhere deeper than her fingertips. It was as if the crystal was humming directly to her soul, a feeling both grounding and uplifting, like the moment when a perfect note resolves a musical phrase.
She lingered there, watching the patterns swirl within the crystal's depths, feeling the gentle vibration ease away worries she hadn't even realized she'd been carrying. As she moved on to the next alcove she saw Lhandon. He looked different to the last time she’d seen him. His eyes seemed red, and he looked so very tired. He smiled at her as though nothing was wrong but something seemed off.
Nilsen: Oh, hey V. It's good to see you.
Morton: Oh, hey, N ::She gave him her best radiant grin. Eyes twinkling with mischief:: It’s good to see you too. May I join you? ::Her voice was soft but playful::
Nilsen: Yeah, it’s good to chat without a mission or something to do. I trust everything is going smoothly with the deal?
Morton: As far as I can tell, anyway. I think Saa and Tasen are going to be as delighted as I am, once it’s all fully signed off.
Nilsen: Aw, nice, I've also got a bit of an interest too. This is a Corelial Olvo, a canny little thing. They can survive both in these pools but also out in the cold on the surface.
Lolagi IV, better known to its inhabitants fondly as ‘The Ocean Garden’, or ‘Home of the Three Moons’ had a very mild tilt of just 5 degrees. And with about 70 to 75% of surface water, the planet was comprised of Archipelagos, shallow continental shelves, small polar caps, coral reefs, rainforests, volcanic atolls. It was as different to this planet as could be. Vala had little interest in visiting the surface, coming from a tropical planet of warm seas, the ice, wind and intense cold on the surface of this planet was well beyond her comfort zone. Had the petite botanist been a plant, she would have shriveled up and died at the first stiff breeze. However, because life was so vastly different here to anything she’d seen or experienced before, that just made it all the more exotic and exciting.
Morton: ::Gushing:: Incredible isn’t it? Feel this stem. It's got this fuzzy coating that's almost like insulation. No wonder it can outcompete everything else when the wind picks up off the glacier.
Nilsen: I guess we humans, at least those ones on earth, call them weeds, but look what it can do here. I was a farmer growing up, so weeds were not always my best friend, but I like this one.
Vala hated the term weed, but she couldn’t blame anyone for using it. If anything it was a great conversational topic, and could you really call yourself a botanist if you weren’t on a crusade to wipe that word out of people’s vocabulary? When she responded, it was with characteristic good-humour.
Morton: It's funny how we call the most adaptable plants 'weeds'. As if being incredibly successful at survival is somehow a flaw. A 'weed' is usually just a plant that's too good at what it does for our convenience.
Many so-called enlightened species looked down on and villainised things that inconvenienced them. It didn’t matter if it was a plant or a scrappy bird… And on that thought she burst out laughing.
Morton: Sorry, I just had this image of the wharf-wings down at the harbour. They'll swoop down and snatch a krabok right off the stick before you can blink! Those golden-fried patties of shredded purple crab meat, still steaming from the vendor's oil, skewered on those little wooden sticks that make them so perfectly portable. ::Chef’s kiss. Her stomach growled longingly:: …and so perfectly stealable. Some people call them vermin, scavengers, or thieves. But really, they're just incredibly good at being opportunistic. They've figured out that people clutching expensive street food are easy targets, and they've adapted their whole hunting strategy around it. Instead of admiring their intelligence, we curse them for being inconvenient.
She gestured at the fuzzy-stemmed plant.
Morton: Just like these so-called weeds. Both are thriving exactly where we don't want them to, doing exactly what they've evolved to do best.
She grinned at him with a twinkle in her eye and let that story sit with him. She hoped he found the story of the plucky birds as amusing as she did. Even if he didn’t, she’d derived enough enjoyment from sharing the tale for the two of them.
Nilsen: I've been meaning to catch up with you. Tox's report of you was glowing - he actually used adjectives. I figured I need to know the person who impressed him so much.
Vala’s eyes widened as she detected his hint of mischief and the informal reference to Commander Arlill. It took her a moment to connect the dots there but when she did, her grin widened, she nodded approvingly and waggled her finger at him.
Nilsen: Commander Arlill is more casual than me when you get to know him. He's not by the books, he's very casual. In fact, if you want to get on his good side, call him Tox. He loves that.
She thought a moment about that and nearly fell for it too. An image of Jania floated into her mind. She did want to get on his good side. And not just because he had What was this? The USS Prankster? She scoffed.
Morton: I bet he hates it; doesn’t he? Is this a set up? ::She waggled her finger at him playfully::
Nilsen: Response
Morton: Probably some SOPA thing. Heh? Am I right? Senior Officers Pranksters… ::She tipped her head, trying to find the last piece of the puzzle.::
Nilsen: Response
Morton: oO Association! I should have said association, that would have been perfect. Gah! Oo
Morton: I don’t know about that! But yeah, I think maybe Commander Arlill is fine for now. So if you want to know this impressive person so much, let’s talk! ::Enthusiastically:: Tell me about where you grew up.
Nilsen: Response
Ensign Vala Morton
USS Octavia E Butler NCC-82850
O240205VM3