Kari Wechsler <kari_daballa@...> wrote to aylhr@...:

=\/= RIS Aylhr =\/=

Being back on a starship suited Liall. As she made her
way back to her quarters from her duty shift at
Engineering, she admired the dark, metallic gray of
the bulkheads, the purposefulness of the corridor that
led only to discrete destinations, without unnecessary
deviations. Life in space made some people
clastrophobic. Even some of her compatriots back on
ch'Rihan in the engineering cadre had wanted to pursue
their serona on colonies of the empire, on worlds
where they could step outside and look at the sky -
not Liall. The enclosed space comforted her. Perhaps
it was her other side. The throbbing in the base of
her skull had gotten worse over the last hour... it
was past time for her hypo.

The doors to her quarters whooshed open. "Etrehh!" she
barked, as she entered and immediately hastened to
pull off the top to her uniform. "Begin..." the top
pulled over her head, upsetting the smooth braid of
black hair in back that fell to about her shoulders.
"... daily duty log."

The computer grunted, and Liall collapsed into a
chair, tugging at her boot.

"Duty shift proceeded as expected. The Dais'erien..."
she paused a moment, a boot in her right hand and left
foot braced against the coffee table, and contorted
her face. Damn, what was his name?

"Dais'erien... uh... sourbreath" Must remember to edit
this before saving! "... guided us around the main
arifv'etrehafwe floor and adjacent conduit tubes
today." The second boot came off. It was like
Aurielian chocolate to the starving. Liall sank down
into the chair as far as she could. "New cadet
orientation consisted of reviewing plasma conduit
routes and [she could barely contain a snicker] warp
coil flow controls. Very... thorough. I feel very..."
More laughter bubbling up. You can't laugh in your
duty log! Stop it! "... ahem, oriented to the Aylhr's
primary systems. The rest of the staff seems friendly
and helpful. Looking forward to working with everyone.
End log." A loud sigh, and she shoved herself up.

The new quarters suited her. She'd arranged her sparce
furniture in exact proportions of distance from one
another, following some geometric algorithm that she
was sure she could calculate, but didn't want to
bother trying. It just made sense to her. She admired
her new living space for a moment before starting up
to put away her boots.

"Etrehh!" She called again. "Give me a Tarkelian chai,
and don't skimp on the cardamom!"

Unhappy noises by the computer. Recipe unknown.

Another sigh. This ship needs all the help it can get!
The datacrystals with all her old recipes were still
packed away in the other room. Too much trouble. "All
right, fine. Give me a ch'Havran chai then. Hot. Light
on the cardamom. Surely you can do that, yeah?"

She picked up the steaming mug and inhaled deeply. It
was funny how you could get completely fatigued on a
day when no work actually got done. Eh, Galae? She
grinned and took a sip.

Putting down the mug, she headed to her bedroom and
began to undress. She loved the fleet, but the
uniforms could use some work. Once more comfortable,
Liall began pulling out her personal items from the
cargo containers. Romulan sculpture. A map of a Trill
moon settlement she'd found in a dusty market
somewhere. A Vulcan chess set. Her favorite mirror...
she took a moment to pick at her hair as she regarded
her reflection. Maybe I should try dyeing the green
streaks again? It had almost passed at the Engineering
cadre, and she still thought she had a pretty good
case... Rihannsu cultural grounds and all. And she
looked pretty good with the added color. She made a
mental note to think it over later.

She pulled out the small metal case with a discreet
Ferengi tri-cascade tumbler lock. It was heavy in her
hands. Unclasping the top, she withdrew a small metal
vial and an intravenous injector. Such ancient
technology, but the scientists hadn't figured out a
better way to introduce the serum. She grimaced and
pressed the spring trigger, and immediately felt the
sharp sting followed by a warm numbness in her skull.
The throb died away.

The separation started again. She occasionally called
it that - the feeling that some part of her was in a
clear, soundless room, sequestered from reality around
her. For some reason, she no longer wanted the chai.
Do we even drink chai? She wondered - one of those
questions she couldn't ask the others. They know -
they've always been Romulan. But she really wasn't
sure. Glancing around her quarters, she no longer
understood implicitly the pattern of the furniture.



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