From: Jamie LeBlanc (plainsimplegarak_at_yahoo.com)
Date: Wed Oct 29 2008 - 19:28:53 PDT
“Transformation” (Continued from “Rememberance" (PATRIOT) and “Hanging Around Waiting on Pop-Corn" (STONEHENGE))
~*~*~*~*~*~
Location: E4 Moon
Stardate:
Scene: Campsite
Time Index: variable to accommodate for other posts.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Calcination: The first stage of alchemical transformation: “The breaking down of a substance by fierce heating and burning usually in an open crucible until it forms a fine ash.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
“You owe us a song.” Iszhlana Vort waggled a spitted marshmallow at the Andorian CMO accusatorily.
Aerdan perked a brow. “I don’t have a song.”
“Of course you have a song. Everyone has a song. Even Peter had a song.” Izzie grinned, waving her tail in the air. “though it wasn’t a very good one.” She added in a stage whisper.
“Hey!” the Brit protested. “Row-row-row Your Boat is a highly accepted human camping song.”
Izzie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but everybody’s else’s song was fun.”
Ronnie chuckled a bit. “I thought Peter’s song was fun.”
Urika Shar, meanwhile, leaned over and prodded the neurosurgeon. “Yes, but you are the only one who admitted that he sang *dirty* songs in school.”
Aerdan turned, giving the trill his most innocent expression. “We were young, bored and studying *anatomy*” It prompted a round of snickering from his crewmates and a confused expression from the CMO. “What, it makes perfect sense to me.”
“You’re *so* not getting out of this one.” Matthew chuckled, looking between Izzy and Aerdan.
“Agreed.” Peter was grinning. “You’d need a miracle.”
As if on cue, the blue shimmer of a transporter beam enveloped the Andorian, leaving a very confused and slightly upset Izhlana ready to implore him with puppy-dog eyes and a bagful of marshmallows. “Or a rescues from Captain Zanders.” She groused, sitting down and consoling herself with some sugar.
Location: E4-Base
Scene: Mad’hron Zander’s office
Aerdan found himself unceremoniously dumped into the middle of Maddie’s large, comfortable office rug. Bits of leaves and twigs were still stuck in his hair and they drifted placidly to the carpet.
“You’re shedding.” The Vulcan captain murmured with a hint of a smile to break the ice before her face turned cautiously sober.
The Andorian perked a snowy brow and brushed the last bits of vegetation free. “So I see” he murmured, raising his gaze towards his former CO. “I assume you’re running this great maze?”
Maddie hid her smirk extremely well. “Training exercise, doctor.” She paused, and her expression softened a bit. “But that’s not why I brought you here.”
He furrowed his antennae together and frowned a little. “Captain, what’s going on?”
Captain Zanders waved a hand in the air. “Aerdan, I apologize for the beam out, but there was no good way to contact you otherwise…”
The neurosurgeon bit his lower lip and took a step forward. “That doesn’t answer my question, Mad’hron.” he prompted, his voice in a thin, focused lisp.
“Aerdan…” her dark eyes washed over him with a tone of worry. “There’s a priority message for you from Federation Records…”
Slowly the medic’s eyes widened. The Records department was responsible for the upkeep of the personal records for all Federation citizens, and getting a priority call from them usually meant very bad news. A call from Federation Records was the nightmare of every family who saw their loved ones travel out into the galaxy not under Starfleet’s banner. Aerdan’s brain cycled through the possibilities – and none of them were coming out good. Slowly he felt his blood run cold. Biting his lower lip he looked up to Maddie. “Where can I go receive it?”
“I have a back office.” She pointed towards a door, and looked back towards him, “I hope…” Her voice trailed off.
“I hope, too.” Aerdan murmured.
~*~*~
The Federation bureaucrat who faced him kept his expression eerily calm. He brushed back a greasy lock of hair and introduced himself as Deputy Secretary Kevin Tamberline before he set his hands on the desk in front of him and got down to business. “Commander Jos, are you aware of the situation between the Federation and the Dominion?”
Aerdan leaned back, surprised at the question. “If you mean the war, then yes, I am aware.” He watched as the man on the viewscreen flinched at the words.
“We don’t use the word ‘war’ here.” He chided nasally. “But since you are aware of the hostilities, I will cut directly to the point. The Dominion sent a small task force to engage the task force in Starfleet’s defense perimeter around VEGA VI, and three small attack vessels broke through into Federation territory and mounted an espionage and attack mission on the ROMA Starbase and engineering research facility. Starfleet forces were able to arrive in time to prevent any sensitive information from falling into the hands of the enemy; but we suffered eighteen civilian casualties. Your wife, Kirla Ferr, was one of the fallen.” Tamberline ended with a smug expression that seemed to say that eighteen people was a very small price to pay for the safety of the Federation in this not-war.
Very slowly the CMO felt a lump form in the back of his throat. Despite the poor relationship history with his wife the news crept up and hit him far harder than expected. “How…?” he asked, his voice dry.
The secretary blinked and spoke as calmly as if he was discussing cheeses rather than a death-count in a war zone. “I cannot release that information at this time. The ROMA Station is under a communications blackout to preserve the sensitive information held there. When there is a public release I can grant you communications access to her supervisors.”
Leaning forward, antennae curling angrily front-wards, the Andorian medic shook his head. “If there was a blackout how did you get information?”
“Standard post-incident coded communiqué.” Tamberline sighed. He wondered why all these people got so mad all the time.
Aerdan rose up off his chair and leaned towards the viewscreen. “I don’t care about communication blackouts at the moment; I want to know how my wife died!” he snarled, hints of violet and navy rising into his cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” the Deputy Secretary replied, sounding anything but. “I will give you my contact information so you can receive your requested information as soon as it is released. Good day, Commander.”
The screen flashed to black, leaving the CMO staring, enraged and wild eyed at an empty viewscreen as the UFP logo popped up onto a navy background. “Good day?! How the hell am I supposed to have a good day?!” he yelled, shaking an ineffectual fist at the viewscreen. He turned and started to pace, deep into muttering a long string of choice Andorian cuss words when the door chime rang. “What?!” His soft tone carried through the door before it slid open to reveal Maddie’s all too perceptive face.
“I take it things are not OK…” she broached carefully.
The neurosurgeon shook his head, his voice light and sardonic. “Oh, things are fine, Captain. Just fine!” He stopped pacing mid-stride and turned to face her; with an expression that looked like someone had just slapped him square in the face.
The Vulcan hybrid nodded slowly, “Care to talk about it?”
Aerdan perked a snowy brow as she walked inside and closed the door behind her. “Are you going to lock the door until I talk?” he asked, still remembering his last holodeck conversation with Phia.
“That isn’t my style.” Mad’hron smirked lightly, “though knowing you I might make an exception.”
“Why does everyone say that?” he groused, resuming his pacing.
The Captain suppressed a small smile. “Because, moreso than my other friends, you have the uncanny ability to close yourself off, doctor. And while it does you good to speak about things, one practically has to tie you down and forciably drag the truth out of you before you’ll talk.”
The CMO flushed a sudden shade of navy and turned towards the wall with the viewscreen. “Something happened to my ex-wife…” he started in a low tone.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Dissolution: the second stage in Alchemical transformation: “The dissolving or transforming of a substance into a liquid.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
Location: USS STONEHENGE
Scene: Sickbay
“You’re back early…” Arjan perked a brow as his brother passed through sickbay.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” The low, quiet, angry response resonated through the room.
“Right. *And* you’re in a lovely mood…” The older brother tried his very best grin.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Aerdan still refused to turn around to face him.
“And as stubborn as always. Come on, Aer, you love me… what’s up?”
Turning, the CMO’s eyes widened and he yelled “I DON’T want to talk about it!”
Eyes wide, Arjan backed away and gave a small nod. “Allright. You don’t want to talk about it!” He shook his head as the younger Andorian left the room as swiftly as he had entered it. “Sheesh, what’s eating him?”
~*~*~
The night had not gone well, and it left Aerdan Jos sitting on the couch in his quarters, Ishe curled up against him finally asleep. He didn’t know of any good way to tell a child that her mother was dead, only how to hold her close as she cried herself to sleep. Now he found himself mulling the same thoughts over and over again in his head. While he had long ago lost the spark of love in his relationship with Kirla; he had always hoped they could find some peace to their relationship rather than endless antagonism. It shamed him to think that their last parting followed on the heels of an unresolved argument.
And then there was Ishe.
For the little girl who always wanted her mommy to come back to her, hearing this news was a particularly difficult blow. Aerdan sighed n the chilly darkness. He didn’t have good answers to her questions tonight. He didn’t have good answers to his own. He slowly shifted Ishe to a more comfortable sleeping position and stood up to stretch, walking over to his communications panel. He felt the need to talk to someone who wasn’t his brother.
Hitting the panel, he punched in the communication codes for GATEWAY station, hoping to at least have a rousing row with Cade Foster if all other signals failed. His entire expression dropped when he received an unfamiliar face from Starfleet command. [I’m sorry, sir, but communication with GATEWAY station is temporarily restricted.]
Aerdan shook his head, “Is everything restricted today?” he asked more sharply than he intended. The woman on the otherside of the viewscreen shook her head sorrowfully.
[No, sir. Didn’t you hear the news?]
“I’m behind on my news.”
With a very empathic gaze, she transferred his com panel over to the FedCom broadcast covering the destruction of the CHANTICO. Aerdan felt his jaw drop as he read the list of names of the casualties. By the time he got all the way down to ‘Cade Foster’ he could feel his head spin. “I don’t believe it.” He whispered as he let the screen go dark. “I just don’t believe it…” Shock was fading fast to anger and he walked into the kitchen, took a glass from the sink and threw it into the replicator so hard it sent showers of glass across the wall glistening before they were dissolved into nothingness. “I just don’t believe it!!” he yelled in a strangled tone, trying desperately not to wake his little girl as he slammed his fists down on the counter.
He stood there, letting rage fade to numbness and finally exhaustion. Dragging his feet he crawled back towards the couch and collapsed beside Ishe, staring off into the darkness.
For the first time since he was a small child, Aerdan Jos cried himself to sleep.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Separation: The third stage of alchemical transformation: “The making of two components separate from each other.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Location: USS STONEHENGE
Scene: CMO’s Quarters
Starfleet had a knack for uncanny timing.
Aerdan was shamelessly brooding in his quarters, waiting as Maddie tracked down Rharn and trying to discourage his brother from bringing the entire medical staff and a five course brunch over to cheer him up when the call came in from Starfleet Medical.
He had not expected it to be anyone important and was caught staring at Commander Kimberly Hawthorne, head of Starfleet medical in the sector, trying to hide the factthat he was, in fact, in his pajamas. [Have I caught you at a bad time, Commander?] she asked in her unerringly calm tone.
“No.” He lied evenly and sat down. “What’s going on, Commander?”
[Starfleet has suffered heavy casualties on the forefront of the Dominoin war, Doctor.. and we want to try to implement a new organization for the medical department that streamlines our medical resources.] She spoke in a soft, businesslike tone. [The intent is to try this system out on the USS PATRIOT, one of the warships near the Dominoin border, and if it is successful implement on other frontline warships.]
“Alright… I follow you, but I don’t necessarily understand why you’re contacting me if this is to be implemented on the PATRIOT.” He murmured, groping for a cup of something caffeinated.
[Of all the Starfleet vessels in the fleet, currently the STONEHENGE is the only one that is honestly overstaffed with doctors.]
“Commander… the STONEHENGE is hardly overstaffed…” He started to protest.
[You currently have five individuals qualified to serve as a chief medical officer on a starship: Kagiso, Ford, Suvek, Sef, and of course, yourself. You have the largest compliment of surgical specialists, as well as civilian specialists; and the strongest nursing team in the fleet.] She reasoned calmly.
“We also have a highly sensitive and important mission.” He countered.
Hawthorne shook her head lightly, [I appreciate that, Commander. But I need experienced individuals to help with this restructuring.]
Dr. Jos felt his antennae droop into his snowy hair. “You want me to give up some of my team?”
[I want you] she replied bluntly.
Aerdan felt his jaw drop as he blinked at her in the darkness of his quarters.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Scene: Sickbay: CMO’s office
The older brother turned, his mouth falling open. “You can’t go…”
Slowly, Lieutenant Commander Jos shook his head. “Arjan… need I remind you that I’m thirty-five years old? And you’re even older.”
“Don’t remind me.” The other Andorian groaned. “But, I mean, this is your ship. Your sickbay… you can’t just leave!”
Patiently, Aerdan took in a long breath. “Technically it’s Starfleet’s ship and Starfleet’s sickbay; and I’m Starfleet’s officer.”
Arjan started pacing, shaking his head. “Yes, yes yes, I know all that… but you also get a *choice.*” He sucked a breath through his teeth. “They can’t send you away if you don’t agree *to* it.”
“Arjan…” The younger turned, letting his sapphire eyes soften. “You don’t understand.”
“Try me.”
The CMO sat down on his desk and sighed a little. “In one day I want from traipsing blindly through my little path through life, to having a large number of people I knew and even loved gone. And my memories are caught up here. In this place. And despite the fact that I have friends and family here, walking through these halls; living in these rooms I keep seeing the ghosts of the past. I feel less and less like this is a ship and more like this is a flying coffin for faces from the past.” He paused and fixed his brother with a serious stare. “I have to get away, Arjan. I need to make a change. I might return here someday. I admit – you’re right. There is something about the STONEHENGE that will always feel like home. But right now I need to get some space from this place.”
Very slowly the elder gave a nod. “I think I understand…” He paused and sat down. “I have a selfish question to ask.”
“Shoot.”
Arjan looked casually across the office towards his brother. “Would you mind if I didn’t follow?”
Aerdan blinked. “I never expected you to follow me.” Slowly he sighed. “Actually, I should apologize… I didn’t think of you at all.”
“You never do.” Arjan shook his head, grinning. “But that’s alright, I already know what I want.”
“And what is that?” Aerdan perked a brow.
“I’m staying here.” The elder grinned, looking satisfied with himself. “Or at least I’m going to hope that Captain Alcedo doesn’t kick me out.”
“I don’t think she will.” Slowly the younger grinned and reached out for his brother’s shoulder. They ended up in a fast hug as Arjan dragged him close.
“I’ll keep your seat warm, OK?”
Aerdan smiled fondly. “Deal.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Location: E4 Moon
Scene: Campsite
Izzy swung her feet off the edge of her seat and chewed on apiece of roasted meat.
“How is it?” Urika Shar asked, sniffing her piece gingerly.
The Alterian shrugged. “I’ve had better.” She looked up to the big sky and the probably watchful eye of Mad’hron Zanders and said, “I wish I had a feast right about now.”
Matthew chuckled, noting that that trick hadn’t worked for quite some time. “I think we’re stuck with our foraged foods.”
“I said, I wish I had a feast right now…” Izshlana tried again, folding her arms across her chest.
Compliantly, a shimmering blue transporter beam appeared in the middle of the campsite. Izzie clapped and grinned, bounding over and nearly landing in the CMO’s lap. “Doctor? Are you my feast?”
He blinked at her. “I certainly hope not.”
“Where did you go?” Ronnie asked, clearing a seat for the Andorian. “We were worried.”
Aerdan signed and sat down, giving them a quick recap of the news he had gotten, finishing with, “Yes… I accepted the transfer. I leave tomorrow morning.”
“You’re kidding.” Peter said, staring at him with an open jaw.
“Do I usually jest, Commander?” Aerdan asked evenly.
“Well if you are it’s an awfully sick joke.” Matthew replied before looking over at the doctor. Furrowing his brow he added, “Tomorrow? So soon?”
Aerdan gave a thin nod. “I have to drop Ishe off on ANDOR before heading to the front.”
“So Maddie sent you back here for the night?” Izzie looked over at him, putting on her very bravest face. As if in response, the transporter hummed peacefully and a giant cooler of food appeared near the fire. “Oooh, *and* she sent us a good bye feast.”
Aerdan tipped his antennae downwards. So much for going out quietly. Izshlana dragged him forwards while grabbing something that looked like a shish-kebab. “Com’on, Doc… I’ll roast you something while you teach us that song you promised…”
“Do I have to?”
She grinned and sat in his lap. “If you don’t you’ll never make your shuttlecraft. I’ll make sure of that.”
Aerdan sighed and started to remember a tune.
~*~
“Aerdan…” Peter called, following the smaller blue man through the forest for a few paces. “Two things before you go?”
The CMO blinked and turned. “Yes, Commander?”
The Brit smiled a bit in the moonlight. “Don’t get yourself killed out there, OK?”
“I’ll try very hard not to.” He smiled back lightly. “What’s the second thing?”
Peter blinked back a tear and shook a finger at the Andorian. “Don’t you dare cause your next Executive Officer as much grief as you caused me.”
Aerdan copped the most innocent look he could muster. “Commander… when have I ever caused you grief?”
“Cairus, Dagorin, Anadalusia, Biscuits…” He started to tick off on his fingers.
The smaller man smiled slowly, a warm expression. “That wasn’t grief! Those were… unusual displays of affection.” He paused a bit, mischief draining into his eyes. “In the meanwhile, I left Daisy’s biscuit recipe with my brother and Ardy. I’m sure you won’t run out.”
“Get over here.” Peter grabbed the Andorian’s arm and gave him a short hug. “Next time we’re all on R and R together you had better look us up. Promise?”
Aerdan sighed and returned the gesture warmly. “Promise.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Conjunction: The fourth stage of alchemical transformation: “The joining of two opposite components.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Location: Long Range Shuttlecraft ISIS
Scene: Passenger Bay
He felt odd, watching as the STONEHENGE grew small and slipped into the darkness of space, almost numb like he was saying goodbye to an old friend. In comparison, beside him Suvek looked remarkably uninterested in the whole affair. The older Vulcan leaned back in his seat and looked over towards the newly minted Chief Surgeon attempting a conversational expression. “We meet upon Gateway Station in one week?”
“That’s what the orders say.” The neurosurgeon replied evenly. “You are heading back to Vulcan?”
The scientist gave a curt nod. “I am overdue to re-attend a Kohlinar cleansing. If there were more time I would repeat the entire ritual.” He spoke as if he was going to get a physical check-up.
“I see.”
“I assume you are headed back to your homeworld as well?” Suvek returned, attempting a conversational tone. It fell into the same flat voice he used for diagnoses.
Aerdan shook his head a little. “I don’t want to, but I don’t have a choice. My daughter needs to reconnect with her grandmother; and the PATRIOT’s mission highly discourages me from keeping her with me.”
“Logic follows your second statement, but not your first.” Suvek chided.
The Andorian gave a sigh and forced himself not to roll his eyes at the Vulcan. “My daughter just found out her mother died a few days ago. She badly needs a mother-figure in her life right now and I can’t provide that without taking her home. Though I worry that she will feel abandoned.” He trailed off, shaking his head and cutting off his discussion before it became too emotional.
Suvek watched the younger man and leaned back with an air of wisdom about him. “Children are more resilient that you give them credit for, Doctor Jos. It is the older generations who do not take change well.”
Both white brows slid upwards at that and Aerdan considered Suvek carefully. “You have children?”
The older man nodded evenly. “Two. And I had a wife once.” He paused and stared out the window for a second as the stars slid by. “Logic dictates that we do not let what happened before prevent us from fulfilling our concerns and duties of the present.”
Aerdan jaw dropped slightly. “I didn’t know you gave advice, Lieutenant.”
“I do not give advice, Commander. That was merely a statement of a logical conclusion.” Suvek’s eyes sparkled very slightly as he fell back into his unreadable silence.
~*~*~
Location: ANDORIA
Scene: Jos Familial Residence, in the far north.
Aerdan leaned lightly against the wall, and sucked in a long tired breath. Ishe stirred lightly in his arms, fast asleep. The transporter hummed to life and deposited both of them in a small, comfortable living room with a low ceiling and a soft yellow-orange glow. He sighed a little. “Well, at least he didn’t change the codes. I hope that means we’re still welcome.”
He stepped off the platform, looking around the darkened rooms, not venturing to call out. Antennae perked forward he could hear voices.
“Who the hell would be stopping by so late? I thought I told Mierl not to come by until tomorrow.” The voice was a dour, older male.
A soft female voice followed on his heels, “Maybe it’s important, dear. Please try not to get upset.”
“Upset? Dekai, my darling, I’m not upset. I’m simply going to tell him to leave.” A short, thin, well groomed older Andorian waved his hands in the air as he walked into the room. “Lights at sixty percent.” He spoke before he looked up, “Mierl, I thought I said…”
“I’m not Mierl, Father.” Aerdan’s voice was soft and lisping. Mithran Jos snapped his head up, his jaw dropped, and walked headlong into a lamp. Behind him Dekai looked up and her face lit up.
“Aerdan! My dear what are you doing here?” She sounded positively delighted.
“Yes, what are you doing here?” Mithran sounded anything but.
Aerdan raised his sapphire eyes defensively towards his father. “Do I need permission to come home, or should I leave?”
“Nonsense!” Dekai picked the lamp up, tossing it into the hands of her still-stunned husband and pushed forward. Ishe stirred and shook her head, blinking at her grandmother who grinned again. “Is this Ishe? Oh my goodness, she is so big!” She held her arms out and scooped the girl up, carrying her over to the low couch.
“I never said you needed permission to come home. You didn’t answer my question.” Mithran hissed. “It has been seven years, boy. You disappeared and now you come back wearing what? A Starfleet uniform? You could have at least sent a message beforehand.”
Aerdan let his antennae tip downwards slightly. “I didn’t have much time; and it’s difficult to get personal messages through quickly with the Dominion conflict.”
“Excuses, excuses.” The older Andorian accused, his antennae flickering forwards. “And you still didn’t answer my question.”
“Kirla Ferr is dead, father.”
Mithran stopped, mid-thought, the wind taken out of his sails. “You’re kidding.”
“We have disagreed many times, Father, but have I ever jested with you about something like this?”
Slowly the elder Jos shook his head. “No, I suppose not.” He paused as Dekai left Ishe sleep and went to stand beside Aerdan. “How?”
He shook his head lightly. “I don’t know. No one will tell me; only that the Propulsion Institute was attacked.”
“By the Dominion?” she asked, trying to get the two men to sit.
Aerdan simply nodded. “Details are being held by the Federation.”
“By the Federation or by Starfleet?” Mithran asked sharply.
“Starfleet had little more than a liason on ROMA Starbase; and that was only because they were the Propulsion Institute’s largest patron. Face it, Father… Starfleet is not the all-encompassing evil you portray it to be.” The younger doctor put a hand on a nearby table to emphasize his point.
His father shook his head, “I never said that Starfleet was evil, Aerdan. I said that I didn’t agree with their politics, and I don’t agree with their wars.”
“Starfleet didn’t go out and start this war, and they didn’t kill Kirla.” The younger returned. “But they are preventing the Dominion from knocking on our doorstep.”
There was a long pause, punctuated by Dekai leaning forward, preparing to break up an argument, when Mithran sighed and spoke two words. “I know.”
Aerdan Jos looked up and blinked, surprised at the words. “What?”
“I’m not stupid, Aerdan. I have read the reports. The real ones, not this trumped up FedCom crap. I know what’s going on.”
The younger shook his head a little, “and still you disagree with their policies.”
“I am a Federation citizen. I have all the right in the universe to disagree with the military.” He paused, thoughtfully. “But I don’t hate them.” He watched his son carefully, “and believe it or not, I don’t hate you.”
Aerdan eyed him dubiously. “You were furious when I left.”
“I don’t deny it. I was furious for a long time.” Mithran paused again. “But then again I didn’t expect to be seeing you return as a lieutenant commander, either.”
“Funny how that works.” Aerdan murmured.
“So, if you’re going to stay, you might as well be useful and help me make a bed for Ishe.” Mithran rose and headed back towards the sleeping chambers. Dekai got to her feet, leaning over to give Aerdan a little kiss before dragging him back down familiar hallways.
And that was that.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Fermentation: The fifth stage of alchemical transformation: “The putrefaction and concurrent addition of living elements into the substance to encourage transformation”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Location: ANDORIA
Scene: Streets of the Northern City Ilised
“Aerdan Jos?!” The voice was bright, pleasant and familiar. It made the neurosurgeon turn in the middle of the darkened street and search out the source. Two figures ambled happily up. The taller one was an Andorian with a strong, thin, handsome face and a friendly grin. “It is you!” he spoke, reaching out for the smaller Andorian.
Aerdan slowly let a smile spread across his features. “Shae? I didn’t expect to see you on ANDOR.” He grasped his friend’s hand and shook it warmly before looking to his companion: a short young Bolian who was absurdly bundled up against the cold. “Kierx! What are you both doing?”
“Shoreleave!” Shae Kaikura replied, looking extremely pleased. “The Della Nova is getting a refit on its defensive systems because of the Dominion conflict and so we all get some time off. I’ll be heading to E4 next, will you be joining?”
Slowly Aerdan shook his head. “I have been transferred, Shae.”
“Where are you going?” Kierx asked, his breath forming foggy clouds outside his parka.
“USS PATRIOT.”
Shae winced a little. “I suppose they need doctors closer to the front lines.” He paused, looking at the smaller man. “How do you feel about the change?”
Aerdan chewed his lower lip as the three walked down the square. “I have mixed feelings. I hated leaving the HENGE, but I think it was something I had to do.”
“Ja will miss you. She fears that Cade Foster will come back to torment her.” Shae chuckled lightly, remembering how frequently his wife complained about the human CMO.
“Cade’s gone… Dominion attack.” Dr. Jos murmured. Kaikura and Kierx winced.
Slowly Shae sighed. “You know? If we’re home for a last fling before we’re thrown back in the fray we should have some fun.” He looked over towards a comfortable, warm, dark low-clan pub. “Can I buy you a drink, doctor?”
Slowly Aerdan gave a nod. “That sounds good, Shae.”
~*~
Two hours later they were teaching Kierx how to sing a proper low-clan ballad, with half the pub joining in. Aerdan found, to his surprise that not only did Shae and he share a clan, but as did half the pub patrons. When one found out that all three of them were Starfleet officers serving in some way on the lines of the war several rounds of drinks were bought for them; and somehow they all disappeared as well. Aerdan even found himself drunkenly flirting with a particularly lovely waitress. Cade Foster would have been proud.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Distillation: The sixth stage of alchemical transformation: “The separation of a volatile component from a substance by heating so as to drive off the component in order to purify the substance as a whole.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Location: ANDORIA
Scene: Jos Familial house, living room.
It was inevitable; sooner or later there had to be a fight. Honestly the fact that both father and son had survived for two days without screaming at one another was something akin to a miracle.
It had started when Ishe had gone to bed and Mithran had asked what Aerdan planned to do next and devolved into a fight about parenting.
“Do you really think that gallivanting across the galaxy and dragging your daughter with you is responsible?” The elder Jos threw his hands in the air.
“I’m trying to let Ishe experience a wider variety of cultures than I ever saw.” The younger spat back.
“And I’m sure that life-threatening danger does her well, too.”
“Why do you think I brought her here? I can’t take her to the front lines.”
Mithran rolled his eyes. “And yet you order me, your own father, not to train her.”
Aerdan whirled and stabbed an accusatory finger at his father. “I don’t want you turning her into your next ‘neurosurgeon project.’ She will choose her own path.”
“I never forced you to be a surgeon. I prepared you for success.” The older man’s antennae turned downwards angrily.
Putting his hand on his hips, Aerdan shook his head. “You drilled medical information into my head since I was four years old.”
“Lot of good it did.” Mithran snarled. “You were too damn stubborn.”
Shaking his head, the younger donned a highly sarcastic tone. “Well I’m sorry I let you down.”
“Will you two stop it?” Dekai’s voice cut through the open room like a hot knife cutting through butter. “You woke Ishe up.” The young girl peeked around the corner of the door her grandmother was standing in.
“We were just…” Mithran started a feeble excuse.
“Just nothing. You were arguing.” She let her antennae perk up in a position of authority, waiting until both her husband and her son looked properly shamed. “Every single time you two get together you argue. This had been going on for the past twenty years.”
“We have nothing in common to agree about.” Aerdan muttered.
Dekai’s expression flashed with a fierce bright glow. “No, Aerdan. You’re wrong. You two are so damn alike you don’t even realize it.” She was rewarded with both father and son lifting their faces to give her twin gazes of shock, as if both were saying ‘how can you insinuate such a thing, we’re nothing alike!’ at the exact same time.
They looked so similar that Ishe peeked out from the door again and started to giggle. “Daddy, Grandpa… you look funny.”
Dekai chuckled a bit. “She got that right. You two look like foolish children.” She walked into the room and took a seat, letting that sink in before hammering her point home again. “Have either of you ever considered that the reason you fight so much is exactly because you’re too similar.”
Aerdan’s jaw dropped a little while Mithran sat down and turned his gaze guiltily to the floor. “That makes no sense.” The younger insisted. “Mithran Jos, the great surgeon wanted his children to take up his legacy… that’s what you always insinuated.”
Mithran continued to stare at the floor and when it was clear he wasn’t going to speak Dekai shook her head. “Insinuated, maybe. But your father struggled through his training. Nothing came easy to him. He wanted to give you the head start he didn’t feel he had.”
“But…” the Starfleet officer furrowed his brows, with a clear expression of confusion. “He was always a successful doctor; even when we were very young…”
“Only because he’s stubborn, determined and he never gave up.” She rose to her feet and scooped Ishe up, giving her youngest son a small wink. “I’m going to get Ishe some Snow-flower chocolate. You two can join us when you’re feeling more sociable.” She smiled lightly and walked out, leaving the older and the younger staring at one another.
“Is that true?” Aerdan asked after a long silence.
“Find it funny that your father was the laughingstock of his first medical class? That his own advisor told him that he should consider veterinary medicine instead of neurosurgery?” The elder replied bitterly. He took in a breath. “Yeah. It’s true.”
Aerdan blinked. “No… I don’t find it funny.”
He trailed off and slowly both men took to staring out of the window, watching the snow fall. Finally Mithran turned. “What was the name of that ship you’re going to?”
“The PATRIOT.”
The older Andorian mused on that for awhile. “Want some snow-flower chocolate?”
Aerdan perked a tiny smile. “Sure.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Coagulation: the seventh and final stage of alchemical transformation: “The conversion of a thin liquid into a solid mixture through some inner change.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Location: GS2
Scene: Entry to the Promenade
Suvek was standing on the docking platform waiting for him when he arrived. The Vulcan looked inscrutable as always, and smelled lightly of fresh sandy plains and incense. “You look well, Commander.”
“I feel pretty well, Lieutenant.” Aerdan murmured. “I trust your trip to Vulcan was enlightening?”
Suvek gave him a slight nod. “It is logical to retain close ties to your past. I do not favor the human expression of… what is it? ‘burning bridges?’”
The Andorian nodded lightly. “I would agree. Sometimes I’m surprised how much we rely on the past.”
The Vulcan shrugged lightly as they walked down the hallway. “That reminds me, Doctor. I was supposed to give you this.” He dug a small tin out of his bag and handed it over.
Lieutenant Commander Jos’ antennae curled downwards and wavered. “What is it?”
“I do not know. It came from Commander Aspinall and Lieutenant Commander Aspinall” Suvek looked particularly unconcerned.
Aerdan felt a tinge of navy creep into his cheeks as he cracked the tin open to reveal a small basket full of bone shaped cookies, each frosted in a very lovely shade of pink, and each one piped in minty green letters that read ‘Good Doctor’ and a card that simply read ‘have you been a good doctor today?’ and was signed with a heart and the names of a large amount of the medical, security, counseling and engineering staff of the USS STONEHENGE. Slowly Aerdan held the package out and he started to chuckle, and them laugh, and finally to laugh so hard that tears started to roll down his cheeks. It felt like he was making up for over a year’s worth of missed mirth all at once.
Suvek perked a perfect Vulcan brow. “Are you all right, Doctor?”
Aerdan paused a moment in his laughter and grinned at his colleague, plucking one of the biscuits from the basket. “I’m fine, Suvek… but I have a question for you…”
“Yes?”
“Have you been a good doctor today?” The smaller blue man did everything in his power to stave off an overpowering urge to giggle as he waggled a biscuit in front of Suvek’s nose. In return the Vulcan eyed his superior officer as if the man had suddenly gone off the deep end.
“I assure you, Doctor Jos, I am always an excellent physician.”
“Good!” Aerdan replied, placing a cookie in his hand. “Then you get a biscuit.”
Suvek sniffed the confection carefully. “What if I do not want a biscuit?”
“Then there are more for me.”
The Vulcan held the cookie up and read the frosting, shaking his head a little. “This begs the question, Commander… have *you* been a good doctor?” he asked in a perfect deadpan.
“Suvek,” Dr. Jos replied soberly, “I have been a *very* good doctor.” He held up a second cookie and saluted the portion of the USS PATRIOT visible through the observation windows. “And I have earned my biscuit.”
Suvek rolled his eyes as if to say ‘why must everyone else be so illogical?’ as Aerdan peacefully munched on his biscuit and capped the tin.
It was looking to be a good change, after all.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
NRPG:
Well, here’s one brother of a long transfer post! Since I crossposted the HENGE and the PATRIOT and the PATRIOT is at GATEWAY I think I ended up sending this out to… everybody. O.o Wonder if that’s a record *chuckles!*
HENGE: Love ya guys! Hope you all enjoyed this :D
PATRIOT: Can’t wait to meet you guys! Here’s my (lengthy!) introduction. I usually don’t write posts quite this long!
GATEWAY: Um, hi! This has nothing to do with your mission, but if you read it I hope you enjoy it.
Kim/Peter: Biscuits?? Biscuits!!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Jamie LeBlanc
Lieutenant Commander Aerdan Jos
Formerly: Chief Medical Officer, USS STONEHENGE
Currently: Chief Surgeon
USS PATRIOT
"Why do we fly? Because we have dreamt of it for so long that we must"
~Julian Beck
From HyperNews_at_youth.net
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