Ensign Amelia Semara - Nesting

[+ Ras El Heem]

Love the way Max portrayed what it's like being a telepath! Eloquently done.

 

 

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(( Flashback - Casperia Prime, Nantahala Valley, Vayaxe-Ambato Wilderness ))

 

The waxing laurel crown of Casperia’s blue-white rings welcomed the frantic riot of brilliant blossoms carpeting the rolling valley floor where two Betazoids trekked.  Above them, radiant sun flashed off imposing still-white peaks, the hot high-altitude sun swelling the creeks beneath until they overran banks and became rushing rivers.  If you stopped to watch, you could almost see the Casperian mountain spring unfurling right before your eyes.

 

But Amelia and her daddy, Tyvan, weren’t stopping until they found what they were looking for.

 

Now well into her teens, Amelia no longer dragged behind on these hikes to escape modernity.  She forged ahead, wading into freezing brooks and standing atop rock piles as she searched for hiding spots of fish and butterflies that returned to the high country for food and mates amidst the panicked flourishing.  Even her telepathic senses could now feel out the nervous, alien current of larger animals almost as soon as her daddy’s did.

 

The pair only broke for lunch on a rock that looked out from the shade of a leafy forest onto a large grassy basin.  A herd of wooly elk-like creatures, grime and moss hanging from old winter hair not yet fully shed, grazed in the distance, unaware or uncaring of the Betazoids across the reedy lake counting this year’s pregnancies.

 

Comfortable mental conversation bounced back and forth between the two: it was the second year in a row the herd was so well-fed and healthy.  At this rate, the elk would run out of pasture!  Not to worry.  Nature knows all about balance, Tyvan reminded his daughter.

 

Amelia smiled while she sucked down a hot soup to ward off the chill clinging to the shade, the conversation continuing.  She’d long become accustomed to this manner of communication, and there were no rules about thinking with your mouth full.  It helped telepathy didn’t disturb the wildlife the way speaking out loud did.

 

But they weren’t here just to see the sights.

 

Tyvan: ~ You ready to practice some more, chibaena ? ~

 

Amelia mulled it over.  She enjoyed the sort of telepathy they were up here to practice even more than she admitted out loud, but there was still an undeniable otherness to it - and that she was mastering it quickly.  What would grand-mama and grand-daddy think if they found out?  Or her friends?

 

Her daddy reached his hand out to reassure her, a sense of comfort radiating from his sun-stained smile framed by a rugged beard.  Naturally, he knew exactly what was going through her mind.

 

Tyvan: ~ You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. I’d be happy just to sit and talk. ~

 

Amelia: ~ I know, pa. It's just… :: trailing off :: ~

 

Tyvan: ~ I know. ~

 

A mental exhalation passed between them.  Nothing needed to be said when it was all there plainly felt.  Tyvan was proud of Amelia no matter her path, and he trusted her to choose well for herself.

 

As they sat, a bird, drawn in by the promise of food, landed in a bit of grass.  Her brilliant red crest stood out against iridescent black flight feathers.  Picanixus Casperiana Haraxxis - a rough Casperian analogue to Earth’s Magpie or Crow.  The significance of its appearance was not lost on her.  It held nigh-religious standing among the first Betazoids to settle the valley.  According to them, the bird had welcomed them to share the valley they now lived in and showed them the best places to settle.

 

Amelia tossed a few nuts from her pack, a local customary gesture of thanks for the good fortune the bird brought.  It picked them up in its short beak and gobbled them down. It cocked its head at her, and she got to thinking.

 

Amelia: ~ Maybe… ~

 

Tyvan grinned, already knowing what his daughter was tempted by.  Few humanoids could resist wondering what it would feel like to fly under their own power, but few had her ability to actually find out.

 

Tyvan: ~ Try it!  Take your time. I’ll be here the whole time. ~

 

Already Amelia’s smile was sparkling, insatiable curiosity turning into her habitual enthusiastic determination under her daddy’s encouragement.  She rearranged herself comfortably on the rock the way he’d taught her - the way she always did when preparing for an intense telepathic experience.  She reached out, first feeling his husky, solid, familiar presence anchoring her own just in case she lost her way, then she let her person spill out then join with the bird…

 

A cape of feathers wreathed her shoulders, flowing down her back.  She opened her beak - Kwa-kee-ki-he-he-he!

 

A strange bird call came back at her high and clear came back at her from the giant blonde-feathered creature that offered food, as such creatures often did. Amelia laughed.

 

Hop-hop-hop.  Kwa-kee-ki-he-he-he!

 

She wanted more food, but the giant one gave no more. Rude!

 

Hop-hop-hop.  Kwa-kee-ki-he-he-he!

 

Didn’t it understand?  It was the time for laying - the time to eat, eat, eat!

 

Fine, then.  Time was short, and bugs and berries wouldn’t eat themselves. And there was a nest to build!

 

A big hop, wings unfurled, and her chest and back labored and churned through the air to bring her up above the trees, untying gravity's tether with hard work.

 

A twist of the shoulder, and she banked around.  Hot air rising off the rocks caught in her feathers, easing the hard work, lifting her high enough to sail above the colorful carpet of flowers down to the shaggy brown beasts across the way.  She knew from experience: one could always find good eating there.

 

She circled, spying other birds clinging onto many of the beasts with sharp eyes.  She spotted one without a companion, and pumped her wings hard to bring herself to a stop atop its back.

 

She clung on with her feet, and rooted through the thick hair with her beak.  Perfect.  Many beakfuls here today!  A throat full of crunchy, ripe food clinging here.

 

Better still, excellent bedding!  Sated, she clung to the side, and pulled out wads and wads of shedding fur, holding them in her beak as she launched herself headlong into the air once again.  Home wasn’t far.

 

She cut a straight line back across the glittering pond, and dropped into a tree’s branches.  A bunch of twigs were already anchored into a solid knot of branches, but it was nowhere near complete.  More would be needed, so she set to work.

 

Back and forth, back and forth.  Into the air, then hurtling back down again.  Sticks, soft fur bedding, and a few shiny rocks for decoration all hauled up into the tree one beakful at a time.

 

Her chest and back ached from the labor, but the nest took shape.  It was a promise to the future, a tireless and instinctive hope for what would come next, breaking only to eat more to fuel the unrelenting work long into the afternoon and beyond…

 

Shadows started to turn, then lengthen, and Amelia finally left the bird to return to one place, one body.  She gathered herself in a comfortably happy quiet, and they began their way back down to be home before dinner. She let the memory of the otherness seep into her, the wisdom and experience of the Magpie becoming a part of her. It was like her daddy said. Understanding would be a long time coming, but for now it was enough to wonder at the rhythms of the wild.

 

(( Present Moment - USS Khitomer - Deck 14, Amelia’s Quarters ; En Route to Sector 001 ))

 

Today was going to be a very fine day. Very fine indeed.

 

Much like the magpie, Amelia was hopping about her quarters nesting in her room.  The time she’d telepathically communed with the bird was a favorite memory, perhaps because she saw something of herself in the animal. She understood the experience in a way she never had before: unpacking here was a plan to be aboard this ship for a long time, and a hope it would bring her what she wanted from life.

 

The couple of days prior had been nothing but sleeping, exploring the ship, filing reports, and generally squaring away paperwork, so finally getting the chance to settle in and make her room hers felt like a treat.  All the science projects she brought would have to wait for another day, but her personal things could be properly arranged. Clothes got re-folded or hung up after steaming out the wrinkles.  Candles, rugs, blankets, lamps, hair and skin products, various cooking and baking implements, inherited trinkets, and pictures from home: everything was put in its proper place.

 

But for all the cozy contentment of settling in, Amelia had an appointment to keep with the Captain, and she was not about to be late.  Shayne had made quite the impression on her during the mission: predisposed to action, but not haste, an able listener, but unwilling to be pushed, and having equal measure of delightfully aged crankiness and anxiety mixed with sincere concern with for his crew - there was no doubt in her mind he was the finest example of captainship there was in the fleet.  And she’d had the good fortune to be placed with such a captain on her very first ship.

 

Her mission was clear: she would stop at nothing to win his approval the way he’d won hers.  She had every intent of putting forward her festival day best, and this time there was no rambunctious non-corporeal cruiser-puppeting space puppy to get in her way.

 

She made certain her uniform was in perfect order, and did her makeup and hair in a smart, ladylike fashion, pulling her loosely curled hair to one side and securely pinning her locks above one ear.  Of her few inherited possessions, the pin was one she knew truly had a long history in her family back to some all-but-forgotten Betazoid princess. The pin was made from bright gold, fashioned in the filigree shape of the veins of a cherry-aspen leaf, the stem wrapped around a small but brilliantly sparkling orangish-pink padparadscha sapphire.  Wearing it marked her as heiress to her family name to anyone who studied such obscura.

 

Baked goods already stood ready from earlier that morning, but there was still one last thing that needed doing before her meeting.  She sat down at her table, pulled a piece of paper from a tidy crafts bin, and began writing in a neat cursive:

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Dear Lieutenant Jacin,

 

I hope this letter finds you well.  I wanted to express my admiration for your conviction, empathy, and endurance, and I wish this letter and accompanying tart to be a token of my gratitude to you and your leadership.  I regret I have run out of fresh fruit to share, so I have endeavored to bake these instead.  The fruit is a blend of Terran lemon and Bajoran kava to balance tart and sweet - perhaps inspired by our mission together. I hope you enjoy them.  I look forward to many more missions together.

 

In your service,

Ensign Amelia Magnolia Semara

 

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The signature flourished in something approaching calligraphy, she closed it in an envelope and attached it to a box full of the fresh confection with a little ribbon.  She carefully stacked it atop a padd and another box destined for the Captain, and stepped out of her room into the corridor.

One quick delivery to the counselor's office, then off to see the captain!

 

Ensign Amelia Magnolia Semara

Science Officer

USS Khitomer - NCC-62400

A239710MA0

 

 

Edited 23 hours ago by Ras El Heem