<USS Cervantes> Just to Get Some Air

Just To Get Some Air

Oriana Bell
Saskia Lar

All her work had made Oriana extremely hungry. And
when the social historian was extremely hungry, only
Klingon food would do. "Baby chortlings, extra raw,
and blood sausage," she barked at the Dulcinea?s
replicator, "and an orange juice. Large!" 

She grabbed her tray, resisting the urge to pull a
wing off the chortling before even finding a seat. She
couldn?t remember the last time she?d eaten, and she?d
been planetside last time she had a decent Klingon
breakfast. She surveyed the ship?s lounge, and noticed
Lar in the corner, eating her own breakfast. 

"Oooh?Saskia!" 

It must have been fate. The ship?s xenobiologist was
just the person Oriana wanted to see. She skipped
over, trying to keep her tray from bouncing too much
and spilling OJ on the ever-so-appetizing pile of
oozing sausages. "Hi!" Oriana smiled. "Mind if I join
you?" she asked, her tray hovering above the table in
anticipation of Lar?s response. 

 Saskia had come to the Dulcinea in order to try and
soothe her nerves, which, had they not been frazzled
enough over the past couple of days, were now just
about at their end following her conversation with the
Andorian captain. She forced a smile on her face as
one of the chortlings seemed to begin to wriggle off
Bell's plate. Perhaps the slime from the blood sausage
was what made them so slippery. "Please," she said to
the ensign, and motioned for her to sit. "You'll have
to forgive me. I'm?I'm a little tired."

"I know what you mean, Saskia. It?s been a bizarre
couple of days. I am exhausted, too...AND hungry!" 

Oriana picked a chortle from her plate,
unceromoniously bit the head off, chewed and swallowed
before continuing. 

"I?ve been trying to figure out why the rate of decay
varies so much between the various artifacts the
Slytha?an have uncovered. I was wondering if it may
have to do with the proximity to the wormholes?or
even, something in the air, so to speak." 

 Oriana could sense Lar?s distraction, although not
the cause. Normally, Oriana would have excused herself
and enjoyed her breakfast?and she WAS enjoying it?in
solitude. But circumstances were not
normal--especially not for the poor Khefiraan, who may
cease to exist in less than one of their decades if
something was not done. 

"It'll definitely be something to study once we get
all the rest of this mess cleared up. Mallory and I
did take some soil and air samples, but?" Saskia
trailed off, and took a thoughtful sip of her tea.
"Well, it seems that one never can tell what's going
to happen tomorrow. Perhaps someday I'll get the
chance to run an analysis."

Oriana stabbed a sausage with her fork and smiled.
"Perhaps I can help." She paused to wash down the
blood sausage with the fresh squeezed OJ. "I minored
in ecology at the Vulcan Science Academy. I'd like to
do some research of my own, anyway, about the effects
of the air on the artifacts. If you gave me a battery
of tests to run, and a sample of air, I could do it
all simultaneously and report back to you with my
findings." 

The lieutenant's surprise registered immediately
within Oriana's empathic senses. "Thank you," Saskia
replied, quite sincerely. "I'm sorry;" she continued,
shaking her head as if to shake herself awake, "I
don't mean to seem rude, but quite honestly I didn't
know you'd be interested in such a thing." She nodded.
"Yes. It would take it off my mind. Thank you,
Oriana." 

 Sensing Lar?s sincere gratitude, Oriana had to shake
off a twinge of guilt. Lar was becoming, perhaps, her
closest friend on the ship. To deceive her this way?
She reminded herself that this was for the benefit of
not one, or two, people, but an entire
species?Ambassador Spock?s words rang in her mind,
"The needs of the many?." 

"Oh, hey, I?m sorry," Oriana said suddenly. "I?m the
one who?s being rude! I didn?t even ask if you wanted
a chortle." She pushed the tray slightly closer to
Lar, pointing to the pink, wiggling avis on her plate.
"Go ahead," she said to her friend. "Help yourself." 

"Oh, no, thank you," Saskia said, obviously trying to
be polite and hide her distaste. "I'm afraid I've
never really cared for chortles." 

"You sure?" Oriana asked, and helped herself to
another. "They're really good. Especially when they're
extra raw."

 Saskia's gaze went from Oriana's face and back down
to the blood sausages. Suddenly, she made a sound that
made Bell jump back, as she wondered if the other
woman was about to be sick. But no--speaking of
chortles--that was exactly what Lar was doing. She
placed a hand over her mouth as her lips curled up
into full-blown laughter. Her other arm went to grab
her side, and Bell sat there, puzzled, as Saskia sat
and laughed. By the time she was
finished, there were tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry,
Oriana," she choked out, "I don't know why this is
funny?it's just?this wasn't where I expected to be
today?it wasn't where I expected to be at all?"

An awkward silence followed. Oriana forced out a
nervous laugh herself, struggling for some segue that
would encourage without letting loose a flood of
emotion. "I don't think it's what any of us expected.
But I think that kind of goes without saying, huh? Is
it ALWAYS like this on the Cervantes?"

"I don't know," Saskia said, shaking her head and
wiping her eyes. "Excuse me, Oriana?I think I need to
go back to my quarters?thank you for an?interesting
breakfast." Without another word she strode out of the
Dulcinea's doors.

The emotions stampeding through Saskia's mind had
passed too rapidly for Oriana to read them, and then
she was gone, leaving Oriana wishing for a piece of
toast to lap up the remnants of blood sausage on her
plate. "Strange girl," Oriana said with a shrug.




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