BackSim - Lt JG Alieth - Unrepentant criminal [[PART 1]]

[Alora DeVeau]

((Room 06-0501, Deck 6, USS Thor, On the night before Thor's arrival to New Bajor's system))

 

The room was immersed in a warm half-light, which was the price for honouring the repose of her roommate. Close to a corner, on the floor, the minute flame of a meditation lamp flickered dimly, about to drain the last dregs of the fragrant oil that fed it. Over her bed, Cheesecake dozed on her back, shaking one of her hind legs gently as her nose twitches nervously. 

 

A chase and prey dream, for sure. 

 

Alieth sighed and stretched out her arms over her head, all her attempts of meditation fruitless so far.

 

There was only one way to solve that and to appease the mild trepidation about the new mission that stalked her mind, sullen and hostile and unwilling to be suppressed.

 

Tea.

 

There was a tea for each and every situation and this was one of those that called for the most widespread, soothing and relaxing blend, the one that had become popular even among restless humans.

 

But like all things, what is well done feels right, so Alieth tapped into the replicator the parameters for a teapot at the suitable temperature for the ceremony and then headed for the small chest at the foot of her bed.

 

She opened the lid daintily, fumbled around a bit, and finally extracted an old cloth-wrapped case.

 

With reverence, she unfolded the packaging and then opened the box, revealing a family heirloom that had miraculously survived the QSD accident:

 

A half dozen cups, handmade out of dark clay, that had been passed down from one generation to the next since her ancestors were merely desert nomads, rebellious and fierce wild people who were reluctant to accept Surak's teachings.

 

Of course, years had not passed unnoticed for the tiny pieces, and the countless events and hands they had been through had left their mark on them. The glaze had flaked off in several places, while chips, dents and fissures were evidence of a long life of use.

 

 In fact several of them had been shattered at some point in their past, split into several irregular pieces. However, her forefathers had seen the value in repairing those loyal objects and had recomposed the delicate pieces together with precious metals that were once highly valued, since that fracture, that imperfection did not make them useless, but rather spoke to the history of the object and its capacity to recompose itself and endure.

 

It spoke of resilience and the fugacity of time.

 

And arguably of the stubbornness that ran through her bloodline.

 

In the replicator's niche, the kettle hissed, boiling water escaping from its spout. Alieth picked up one of the cups and a small bag of herbs that she had brought from Vulcan and made her way to the appliance.

 

During the next few minutes, her mind was only focused on preparing the infusion as well as drinking the first sip.

 

One of the corners of her mouth curved lightly. This little ritual never failed to reassure her, and focused her mind on what it should be done.

 

Which, at the time, entailed the commission of a crime. 

 

Once again.

 

Thus, Alieth drained the cup she had used and cleaned it meticulously. Then she took up its companions and with them all walked to the replicator.

 

In a few minutes, she had scanned the exact design, with all its details and imperfections and introduced their pattern into the replicator.

 

That way she was able to produce an exact copy of the cups, which she stored in a box just like the one she had brought from Chi-ree, except that it was white.

 

As she was sealing the lid, a sudden thought crossed her mind. She chose one of the replicated cups and placed it on the desk. Then she took the cup from which the replica had been modeled and placed it in the box she was going to gift.

 

Her friend would never know that one of the cups was centuries old, yet part of Vulcan's soul and serenity would be with him, as long as he used the cup.

 

An apt price for the marine's friendship and to calm his troubled spirit.

 

Now, she only had to sneak onto the marine deck.

 

In the wee hours of the night.

 

And make it to the Chief's office.

 

A genuine challenge for the nocturnal Vulcan criminal.

 

[[TBC]]

 

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Lt. JG Alieth

Medical Officer

USS Thor NCC-82607 

Fleet Captain A. Kells, Commanding

Author ID number:  E239702A10  

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