[USS Vanguard] Last of the Great Party Animals

  • From: Kieran Darkwater <kierandarkwater@xxxxxxxxxxx>
  • To: ncv80221@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
  • Date: Thu, 3 Apr 2003 23:41:18 +0100 (BST)

"...so, in conclusion, despite the obvious neo-Surak stylings of the artifact, 
and its location in the Vulcan star system, neither the construction method nor 
the materials are commensurate with the neo-Surak period. More likely, given 
the fragmentation that occurred at that time, this is a piece from one of the 
Vulcan offshoot races that went on to found, amonst others, the Romulan and 
Reman cultures.

The significa..." The comm-panel sounded, once, interrupting Kieran's flow, and 
he laid the small, distended statuette back on the examination table with a 
sigh, peeling off the gloves as he pressed the button to acknowledge the 
signal. Reading the message, his irritated sigh deepened, as did the frown that 
creased his forehead, and he tossed the gloves over the partition and on to his 

"Can't he just post the review through the comm-system like everyone else?" he 
muttered, turning towards the door. "Does it have to be one of these damned 
parties every time we manage not to die somewhere?"

"Unable to compute. Please re-phrase the question." replied the computer, which 
despite his frequent attempts, he still couldn't convince not to reply to his 

"Ignore it..." he said, stepping through the doors of the Archaeology and 
Anthropology office, and out into the corridors.

"Another bloody party..." Kieran was still muttering as he slipped through the 
doors of his quarters, stopping inside for a moment to decide what he was going 
to do. Another evening surrounded by the press and squeeze of people was going 
to be a strain, and what he really needed to centre himself a little.

A quick command to the replicator, and he was slipping into the stiff, 
familiar, heavy cotton gi, and heading back out again towards the meditation 
suite. Checking there was no-one inside, he opened the door expecting to see 
the blank grid, and instead found himself in a gothic cathedral of some sort, 
overlooked by large, stained-glass windows and heady with the smell of tallow 
candles and old, heavily-oiled wooden pews.

"Who left this running?" he wondered, aloud, turning to admire the buttresses 
of the architecture, and the elaborate bosses on the domed panels of the 
ceiling far above his head.

"Well now, I can't reveal such personal details, you understand. I asked to be 
left on, there was some cleaning that needed doing." Kieran stared, for a 
moment, and the priest as though trying to puzzle something out.

"You are aware, of course, that Zephram Cochrane was an outspoken agnostic?"

"Why should that make a difference?"

"It just seems odd that someone would programme a priest deliberately to 
resemble and agnostic, that's all."

"Did God not create all the agnostics to look like himself?" The cassock swayed 
a little as the priest sat down on the edge of one of the pews.

"I don't think so, no. Now, if you'll excuse me, I was actually hoping to find 
a Bajoran Vadorek Garden here in which to meditate."

"And you can't meditate in a church?"

"I could, but the stone floor would hurt my knees... please."

"Very well, I shall finish my cleaning later. Enjoy your...whatever it was 

"Computer, alter programme - switch to the Vadorek Garden of Ket-nush province, 
Bajor." The scene rippled about him to reveal a well maintained lawn surrounded 
by lush flower beds and tall trees that rippled softly in a gentle breeze. From 
just out of sight, the sounds of waves rolling against a cliff, and the soft 
cries of sea-birds filtered through the gentle harmonies of crystal chimes 
turning in the wind.

Sinking to his knees, Kieran began tuning out the surroundings.


When, later than most, he finally made his way into 'The Party', things already 
seemed to be going well. Slipping into a small clear space by the bar, he 
sighed as Desdemona turned towards him.

"Mr Darkwater... tell me you are going to be adventurous this time."

"Just a glass of milk, please."

"Milk? Come on, it's a party. There are over a hundred thousand different 
bevarages programmed into this replicator, you know - aside from the large 
stock of the real thing we have behind the bar..."

"Really? Very well, then. Why don't you fire up your replicator, and get me an 
Nausicaan Fereth."

"Fereth? What's a Fereth?"

"It's the concentrated extract of the albumen of a small reptilian creature's 
eggs native to the Nausicaan homeworld."

"So, effectively, it's condensed milk?"

"Pretty much, yeah." She placed the glass of white liquid on the counter with a 
mock lock of tragedy.

"You know, you are quite incorruptible?"

"Let's hope so." He raised the glass in salute, and turned to find a reasonably 
quiet table, settling into a seat with his back into the corner, and hoped that 
it remained a quiet table until he could reasonably get out without causing 


OOC>Hey to the newby :) To everyone else, it's good to be back, isn't it? 

Lieutenant Kieran (Can't I say I'm sick and not go?) Darkwater

Anthropology and Archaeology Officer, Science Department

USS Vanguard.

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