(( First Promenade, Decks 225/226, Deep Space 224 ))
“I don’t know if this is right,” said Dothea. “Aside from the spiritual risk of tempting the spirits with this kind of demonic exercise, should we really be messing around with a historical artifact that your weird friend stole from the city’s museum?”
Sal’Sal stood up, ready to fire back at Dothea with one of her trademark rants, but as she rose from her seat, she cracked her head on the ornate Pyrellian crystal chandelier and erupted into a wail of pain and another round of tears.
Hanohi poured Sal’Sal another glass of wine, and as she calmed down, all four amateur conjurers returned their attention to the ancient device.
Yogan rolled his eyes at his latest psychodrama, Beidol Tro’s 2387 classic, The Belonging Season. The last couple of novels he’d burned through left him disappointed, and he was hoping that this sophomore effort by the acclaimed author of The Zest of Life might have been able to turn out a pleasing sequel. The Belonging Season was nowhere near the calibre of Embers Within Ashes or My Kingdom of Thirst, but the first chapters had been promising, if weird.
Setting the PADD down onto the table, Yogan blinked a few times and let his eyes and mind wander across the space station’s expansive promenade. Every time Resolution returned here, there were new establishments to visit, new cuisines being peddled. It was exciting to see the place so bustling with activity, so full of life. The polar opposite of the Romulan settlement on Oreen V, from which Yogan and several of his fellow officers had recently returned.
(( Flashback – Romulan Settlement, Oreen V ))
Yalu: Once the walls and roof are done, we can transport down the furnishings.
MacKenzie: It seems like you guys are just about there…
Jolara: I, for one, will be very thankful when we are completely finished.
Ketteik: ::claps Yalu on the shoulder and grins:: Thanks in part to the fine work of our blueprint interpreter here.
Yogan accepted the compliment graciously, even though it was he who had installed the beige wall panel that had temporarily derailed the project.
Yalu: It was a team effort.
Nicholotti: We are almost there. And then we'll have a place to protect someone from these very storms.
Sherlock: You got a few extra hands now. Finish it off and get inside.
Sirin: That seems wise.
Yalu: This planet has some wild weather. Maybe we should leave them a few dozen ponchos when we’re done.
MacKenzie: ::pointing to the sky:: This thing gets any more serious, they’re going to need more than ponchos.
Nicholotti: And so are we.
Ketteik: ::nods:: Some areas are likely to flood. But I’m certain that the Romulan settlers are more than aware of them by this point.
Yellir: Maybe some non-metallic umbrellas too, just to avoid getting struck by lightning.
Sherlock: ::cringing:: That's a scary thought.
Sirin: Is there much more to do?
Yogan gestured over to the far end of the dwelling, which was still missing a few panels and through which a small amount of rain was beginning to fall.
Yalu: Just a few more steps to complete the build.
Yellir: There was a hiccup, but we fixed it! Everything is fine now, and we should be finishing up before the downpour or any more thunder gets here.
Yalu: Once we’re done down here, Gemini can transport down furniture and drapes and things, and the house will be ready to occupy.
MacKenzie: Sounds good – we were just talking about how we’re starving. I don’t suppose there’s anywhere to get hasperat around here… ::looking around at the practically desolate settlement, then shrugging:: …Too much to ask for?
Jolara: Just a few more pieces, if someone wants to give me a hand, we’ll be free… uh finished.
(( End flashback. ))
Indeed, the project had gone as well as could be expected, and Gemini departed the following day with the Resolution homebuilding team in tow. With any luck, the few dozen Romulans they had rescued from the Briar Patch would be integrating well into their new home by now, lending their skills and expertise to their new neighbors in the pursuit of further developing their little society. For Yogan and the rest of his crewmates, it would be back to work before long. The repair crews had basically taken over their Nova-class home and the rumour was that she was nearly ready to return to service. Yogan jotted down a note on his PADD, reminding himself to volunteer for a shift painting the hull. It was his little ritualistic way of saying sorry for crashing Resolution into a planet, and thanks for holding together.
The station time displayed on the PADD screen alerted Yogan that his presence was soon required elsewhere. The captain had invited the crew to a gathering at everyone’s favourite DS224 watering hole, Molly Malone’s.
Lieutenant Yogan Yalu
USS Resolution NCC-78145
As you liberate yourself in metaphor, think of others, those who have lost the right to speak.
— Mahmoud Darwish