Lt. Commander Foster - Fireflies
Jamie LeBlanc
((Hong Kong District - Starbase 118)
The Hong Kong district of StarBase 118 was a feast for the senses. The air was scented with not only the options of delicious foods and beverages, but of fresh flowers and cut grass. The walkways were festooned with golden lanterns that cast a dim inviting light across the bazaar of food delights that led towards the waterfront, the air was pleasantly warm with the slightest breeze and there was soft music playing from a bandstand nearby to set the mood for merriment.
Foster: Seems a bit cruel to make you walk the gauntlet of delicious temptations before you get to the sitting area. You hungry?
Kel: I was going to say no… but given the circumstances, that feels like lying to myself.
Wyn’s bright blue eyes sparkled. He liked food – his fast Andorian metabolism pushed this like to a need at times – and he was an adventurous eater.
Foster: Pick something! They have quite the variety!
Kel: All right. But if I regret this later, I’m blaming you...
Wyn looked back at Ryden and offered the most melodramatically innocent shrug he could manage. Which was pretty darn good, he might make a decent extra on a soap opera holodrama with that acting skill.
Foster: I mean all the trucks pass the base’s rigorous food safety measures…
Which meant they were all well made, clean, well maintained food vendors that would clearly disclose any allergens.
It didn’t mean anything about whether any given person would like the taste of any specific option. Then again all of these trucks seemed quite popular and they likely had their most popular options on display.
Kel: All right… if I’m going to do this properly, I should probably stop defaulting to the safest option.
Foster: My father used to tell me that variety was the spice of life.
He offered encouragingly.
The truck that Kel was perusing smelled incredible. Warm and spicy and citrusy. The name was not familiar, but it sounded like a Betazoid reference. Wyn tried to remember how many times he had partaken of Betazoid food. He seemed to remember that it had a warm, spicy tradition and used a lot of culinary fruits and citrus.
Kel: This is either going to be incredible… or a very educational mistake.
While Wyn was more than happy to be a guinea pig where food was concerned, this time he quietly watched Ryden sample his choice.
So far he… looked like he was enjoying it! But Wyn couldn’t help but tease a bit.
Foster: So, are you gonna be ill afterwards?
Kel: Oh. No... this is definitely incredible. I stand corrected.
Foster: Fantastic!
Wyn ordered himself a spicy citrus curry-type dish that was served with some sort of tender flatbread instead of a rice or grain. It was warm and complex with a nice tangy bite to it. Very delicious.
And better yet, all of the food was served in easy to carry versions. So they could easily take a bite and then neatly carry the choice to the waterfront. Very smart!
Kel: You know, I keep telling my patients to take their downtime seriously. Hydration, rest, something enjoyable that has nothing to do with their duty shift.
Wyn nodded knowing all too well how that felt.
Foster: As all good doctors do. It’s so easy to tell someone else to do it.
Kel: I’m realizing I’m… not always great at following my own advice.
He spared a sidelong glance at Ryden, with a thoughtful expression.
Foster: You’re by far not the first doctor who has struggled with the idea of living by the advice they give.
Wyn was ashamed to admit that despite giving solid advice to hundreds of patients failed to track how bad one of the scars of an old injury had degraded to the point where he needed to schedule a considerably major surgery to correct it when it finally hit a critical point where he could no longer ignore it. At that point he had been the Chief Surgeon on StarBase 118.
Sure, most of his fellow crew thought it was directly caused by injuries on the mission, but Wyn knew the truth – he didn’t heed his own advice. That was several years ago now, and he was committed to doing better.
Kel: So... fireworks and food. I’ll admit, Commander… you may be onto something here.
Foster: I hope so! You need some rest and recuperation. We all do.
Kel: I might even call this preventative medicine.
He nodded to that with a smile.
Foster: I would call that accurate.
Kel: ?
At the end of the bazaar there was a stand with lemonade and Wyn gathered a cup for each of them, before they set foot onto the expanse of the waterfront. A dimly lit expanse of grass and beach that overlooked the water. You could just see the bonfires on the beach of Little Risa, sparkling like stars on the horizon. Wyn assumed there was a lot of drinking and dancing going on there.
Offering a cup of lemonade out to Ryden, Wyn held his up like a toast.
Foster: Well, here’s to following your own advice, Doctor.
Kel: ?
Foster: I think it was a fantastic choice. There’s a sort of peaceful calm here.
People were gathering, sitting on blankets or lounging on benches, eating and drinking, chatting and waiting for the fireworks to begin. It was just social enough to feel like you were part of something and yet not so crowded to feel claustrophobic.
Wyn decided to snag a comfortable bench before they were all snapped up.
Foster: I dunno, I have known my fair share of neuroscientists and neurosurgeons in my day and they all tell me that you brain needs rest. Not just sleep, but rest where you can just turn it off and not dwell on anything. Just… watching something and let it wander.
Watching the clouds was the example the textbooks all used. Quite, peaceful, creative. But fireworks weren’t that far off.
Kel: ?
He pointed across the way at the lights of the distant districts.
Foster: I guess to me they look like… fireflies. These luminescent bugs that were nd my dad’s house on Earth. What do they look like to you?
He was always curious to hear what other people’s references were. How where they grew up shaped how they saw things.
Kel: ?
~*~
tags/tbc
~*~
Lt. Commander Shar’Wyn Foster
Executive Officer
~Julian Beck
E239010ST0