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Day 14 [1235 hrs.] Horticultural Homicide

Horticultural Homicide
STARDATE 57591.58
TUES MARCH 24, 2381
1235 HRS.


[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Arboretum Café | Deck 20 | Vector 03| USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Numen
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Cross leaned back in his chair and inhaled deeply before he sipped his coffee, letting the dark aroma of his favoured drink tickle his nostrils and entice his taste buds with a hint of what was to come. Closing his eyes, Cross took a long sip of the bitter liquid, the warmth of the steaming beverage seeping down into him and warming him to the core. Letting out a sigh of contentment, Cross opened his eyes and peered out from where he sat alone at a small table in the Arboretum café, the location providing him with a perfect view of the Arboretum below. It had been just over a week since he and Commander Stark had strolled along the paths which wove their way through the Arboretum, and while he had been to the Arboretum café numerous times for meals in the days since, he had not yet gone back to the Arboretum.

Perhaps after his lunch he would go for a short walk to clear his head. The notion brought the makings of a smile to his lips as the server approached, depositing his meal before him and offering a refill on his coffee. An offer he accepted with a broad grin.

The plate which was deposited before him held the same meal he had ordered when dining with Stark on the occasion he had just been thinking about. Falafel, though with a side of fries this time. Picking up a fry and popping it into his mouth, Cross chewed slowly and let his gaze travel over the greenery of the Arboretum, the humidity and scent in the air of the café provided by the gardens and greenery which spanned the floor of the deck below. No matter how many time he had come to the café, he had never tired of the view. Nor had he tired from the scent, the healthy, green aroma which filled the air and held in it the very hints of thriving life.

In short, the place was heaven.

Taking up another fry, Cross repeated the action of popping it into his mouth, then the action of slowly chewing it as he gazed out over the area below. Finally, Cross move on to his falafel, picking up the pita wrap and taking a large bite, enjoying the flavours which mingled in his mouth as he watched a teal-clad crew member slowly ambling along one of the numerous paths below. Another mouthful, another few moments spent watching the young teal-clad woman wander along the paths. Everything seemed right in the world.

That is when the shadow fell across the table…

Re: Day 14 [1235hrs] Horticultural Homicide

Reply #1 –
[Ensign Seren | Corridor > Arboretum Café | Deck 20 | Vector 03| USS Theurgy]
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att: @Fife


There was no alternative solution. Seren had pondered extensively over the issue and the decision he had made was undoubtedly the most logical approach. The remaining remedies entailed long and cumbersome bureaucratic procedures, and while the young counsellor thrived in bureaucracy like any self-respecting Vulcan, on this occasion time was against him. Too much time wasted on unproductive pursuits and all his endeavours, all his efforts would be futile. Something Seren cannot permit. A failure was unacceptable with all that was at stake.

Thus the counsellor was a man on a mission. A mission that drove him through the corridors with a purposeful and firm pace, employing the most optimal route to reach his goal. Of course, he didn't rush his steps, haste was something improper of a Vulcan. But he didn't halt his steps at any point, he didn't partake in any of the brief small talk attempts in which several humans tried to ensnare him in some of the tubolifts and he tracked his path as straight forwardly as practicable.

While he traversed the Arboretum without using the paths outlined for ambulation, Seren extracted his personal padd from one of the hidden pockets within the wide sleeves of his copper-coloured attire. The reddish dot that signalled Liutenant Commander Cross's location remained stationary at the Café that overlooked the botanical garden. Since Seren had started to track him, the tactical officer had spent 13.5 minutes in the cafeteria, more than ample time to consume his midday meal. The ideal situation for both of them to abandon the lounge as soon as Seren informed him of the current situation.

Several doors, corridor segments and a turbolift later, the young Vulcan made his way between the café tables. There was a muffled murmur of conversations in the room from officials who shared thoughts before or after consuming food or, what Seren had never managed to understand, DURING the intake of food. Despite the time he had cohabited among members of different species, Seren had never been able to fathom the rationales of such habit. It retarded food consumption, communication (at best) was highly inefficient during those times in a high percentage of cases, and there was a high probability of unpleasant occurrences. All of which could be circumvented by the logical Vulcan practice of eating meals in silence, with a focus on ingestion rather than scattering one's attention in several idle tasks. Seren, like all his peers, was a devoted multitasker, but despite this, the logic of focusing only on that specific activity was undeniable.

A quick glance at the room allowed him to locate his patient's unequivocal hairless skull on one of the tables closest to the windows that surveyed the garden below. Seren traced a beeline to that table, oblivious to the startled glances of some parishioners and the question of one of the waiters about whether he wanted a table to position himself right behind Cross. The young Vulcan couldn't help but be displeased when he discovered that his calculations had been inaccurate and that not only the tactical officer had not finished his midday meal but that he had barely begun to consume the food. Vexed by this setback, Seren halted within a step of Cross' seat, crossed his hands behind his back and stiffed his posture (even more), determined to wait until Cross finished with his meal ingestion.

Of course, he didn't hesitate to stare at Cross, in the event that he decided to acknowledge his presence. Unfortunately, that also led him to watch in detail as the former hybrid consumed his food. He was using his hands. Something manifestly barbaric, characteristic of unevolved societies. Worse still something absolutely inconceivable on a touch telepath, where hands were an important and key factor. Seren inhaled deeply and closed his fingers tightly around each other, as he repressed the deep-rooted taboos in his upbringing. He compelled himself to remember that, despite his mostly Vulcan features and his reconfigured DNA, Cross was not educated as a Vulcan ought to be. In fact he only considered himself a member of their shared species tangentially.

So Seren mustered his willpower, and observed how the superior officer stuffed food into his mouth. How the highly oily product left greasy smudges on his fingers and over his face and how crumbs of considerable size according to the young man's standards began to pile on his uniform's lap. In spite of all his self-control, the upper corner of his left eyebrow inadvertently twitched.

Re: Day 14 [1235hrs] Horticultural Homicide

Reply #2 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Arboretum Café | Deck 20 | Vector 03| USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Numen
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Cross tried to ignore the shadow which continued to loom over him, despite the fact that the person had neither stepped into view nor spoken. He tried to turn his attention to the beautiful view below as he took another bite of his falafel and slowly chewed the mouthful, but found the gardens unable to hold his attention over the distraction of whoever it was that had decided to just stand awkwardly behind him. Swallowing the mouthful, Cross placed the half-eaten wrap on the plate in front of him and took up his mug, taking a long sip of coffee before slowly turning in his seat to investigate who the creeper was.

As so it was that Cross found himself gazing up at Ensign Seren.

Seren stood there in his typical rigid manner, hand behind his back as he stared at Cross in silence. Cross returned the stare, raising his mug to his lips and taking a long, exaggeratedly loud sip of the bitter beverage as he locked eyes with the counsellor. Seren remained silent, and Cross began to wonder if something had happened to unhinge the man. Or perhaps this was simply how Seren was, awkwardly staring at people as they ate. Or perhaps he had simply decided to torment Cross, to attempt to study Cross in the most annoying manner possible. Cross took another unnecessarily long and loud slups of his coffee, still holding eyes contact with the Vulcan counsellor. Smacking his lips in an exaggerated manner, Cross finally decided to end the silence.

”Is there something I can help you with, counsellor?” Cross asked, absently reaching and taking up a fry. Popping the fry into his mouth, he chewed briefly before speaking again, the words being forced out around the half-chewed French fry. ”I don’t know about Vulcans, but Humans would consider you standing there staring at me to be hajari creepy, Seren.” Cross finished chewing and swallowed before he continued. ”If you’re going to hajari stare at me, at least sit down.” Cross gestured to the chair on the other side of the table he at, then turned back to his plate and took up his falafel once more. He took a large bite of the vegetarian meal and chewed slowly as he waited to see if the counsellor would join him at the table, or if he would choose to simply lurk behind Cross like some sort of creature of torment.

Kardasi Translation:
Hajari - Fucking

Re: Day 14 [1235hrs] Horticultural Homicide

Reply #3 –
[Ensign Seren | Arboretum Café | Deck 20 | Vector 03| USS Theurgy]
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att: @Fife

For 2.2 minutes Seren and Cross mutually observed each other in silence, the first standing without any disruption in his posture, the latter making notorious efforts to highlight the activity in which he was engaged. The coda of the second and sonorous Cross' gulp triggered a new tremor at the top of the Counsellor left eyebrow. Seren had to respect the time of consumption of food of the former hybrid but he should admit that the Liutenant Commander's manners were nefarious at the best. Still, acknowledge of that fact didn't make Cross's demeanor more palatable to the young Vulcan's taste. Seren couldn't help but take that martyrdom as a necessary evil to get what he needed.


Finally, Cross addressed him. Seren blinked a couple of times as an answer, before he sat in the chair in front of his patient, attempting to keep as far away from Cross and the vision of the bolus inside his oral cavity as possible. "In Vulcan it is customary not to interrupt others during the ingestion of food, so I was waiting till you completed your feeding," he explained succinctly as he stretched the hem of his garmet to smooth out an imperceptible wrinkle. He focused his gaze on such an endeavour for 1,157 minutes before raising his head again to look at Cross anew.

For an instant, he pondered over disclosure the reason he was there. Certainly to do so could cause the interruption of Cross' meal, but at the same time it would save him from the sight of the man masticating. That argument acquired almost the same importance as the mission that had brought him there. In addition, Cross had inquired about his presence there, so the most logical course of action was to answer him. Finally, Seren made up his mind, leaned back lightly and folded his hands over the table. "I would have not interrupted you at this moment if I had not required your exact skill combination to save a life."

Re: Day 14 [1235hrs] Horticultural Homicide

Reply #4 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Arboretum Café | Deck 20 | Vector 03| USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Numen
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Seren explained that, for Vulcans, it was customary to allow someone to eat uninterrupted. Somehow, Cross felt that lurking silently over someone as they ate was worse, but Cross never claimed to understand his pointy-eared brethren. Cross took another bite of his food and watched as Seren seemed to inspect the garments he wore, the counsellor seeming rather preoccupied with his appearance. Had he not been Vulcan, Cross would have suspected that it was done out of vanity. Seren would most certainly deny any such accusation, but Cross filed the information away. It might come in handy should he ever wish to torment the counsellor.

Cross had just took up his mug and was taking a sip of coffee when Seren seemed to come to some sort of decision, looking up at the former hybrid and finally speaking. Cross raised an eyebrow as Seren confessed that he was seeking Cross’ help on a matter of life and death. Cross took another sip of his coffee, regarding the other Vulcan curiously as he considered what Seren had just said. Finally, placing his mug back on the table, Cross spoke. ”Saving a life?” Cross repeated, his tone level. ”If it was such an urgent matter, why would you not just bring it up immediately rather than lurking over me while I eat? Why not bring it up as soon as you arrived?” A thought struck Cross then, his face taking on a curious expression. ”My exact skill combination?” Cross pushed his plate and coffee away form him and made to rise.

”Ok, now I’m hajari curious.” Cross admitted as he rose to his feet and waited for Seren to do the same. ”My skillsets are related to the Security and Tactical departments, so I’m looking forward to seeing what a ship’s counsellor could need my particular talents for.” The hint of a smile briefly ghosted across Cross’ features. ”And what you deem to be a life or death matter.” Cross held out an arm, gesturing for Seren to show him the way. ”Lead on, counsellor.”

Kardasi Translation:
Hajari - Fucking

Re: Day 14 [1235hrs] Horticultural Homicide

Reply #5 –
[Ensign Seren | Arboretum Café | Deck 20 | Vector 03| USS Theurgy]
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att: @Fife

Seren blinked a couple of times when Cross rebuked him about why he had not explained the reason for his presence as soon as he had arrived. "As I said, in Vulcan it is customary not to interrupt others duri..." he began to reiterate. However, he was unable to finish the sentence, as the tactical officer interjected a new question, simply by adding a query to the young counsellor's words.

Seren refrained from describing the exact nature of the capabilities he need from the other vulcan, relying on Cross to ensnare himself in the verbal pitfall he had set. And it didn't take long before he was rewarded for his patience when, barely a minute later, the former hybrid declared his curiosity about the matter, while putting down his cup and his half-consumed food and stood on his feet. If Seren were someone given to such frivolities, at that moment he would have been pleased, but he was above such minutiae, so he simply emulated him in a smooth motion. No haste, of course, but only diligently.

"As you will verify when we reach the location of the issue, the particulars about it cannot be divulged without the relevant context," he explained cryptically as he stared one last time at Cross to assess his readiness. There was some curvature in one of the corners of his mouth, a glow in his eyes that was unbecoming of a Vulcan but which, nevertheless, could be interpreted as a positive disposition among most emotional species. Certainly, it was quite different from the aggressive snarl or the sardonic smirk with which Cross had graced him in previous encounters, so Seren found it satisfactory.

Without further ado, the young Vulcan crossed his hands behind his back and steered his steps toward the nearest turbolift. A short trip in it would take them to Transporter Room 5, from where they could be transported to Transporter Room 2 if they were successful. However, the counsellor was uncertain whether they would be forced to make a stopover in Vector 2 before they could reach his chambers next to the library on the Helmet. After all, the repairs that were being carried out all along the starship made it particularly difficult to navigate from one Vector to another. However, Seren didn't partake of this concern with his fellow shipmates and just waited for the turbolift in silence.

Re: Day 14 [1235hrs] Horticultural Homicide

Reply #6 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Arboretum Café | Deck 20 | Vector 03| USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Numen
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Cross followed Seren through the corridors or Deck 20, neither man speaking as they made their way to the turbolift. Cross had no idea which Vector Seren’s quarters were on, and only hoped the journey wouldn’t take overly long.

Seren had said he couldn’t divulge any information about the incident which he claimed to be both life threatening and in need of Cross’ skills, though exactly which skills had yet to be revealed. As seemed to be the case whenever Seren was involved, Cross found himself carrying a growing sense of annoyance within himself, though as he thought about it Cross supposed it could be a holdover of the emotional instability he’d experienced the day before, the memory bringing a green flush to Cross’ cheeks as he followed the shorter Vulcan. The blush of shame had mercifully subsided by the time they reached the turbolift, sparing Cross the monotone rebuke that he had no doubt Seren would express were he to see it.

”I still don’t see what could be so urgent that requires my help, Seren.” Cross grumbled as they rode the turbolift to Deck 24. ”Surely you’d be better off enlisting the help of someone form Medical? Security?”

Anyone other than me? Cross added silently, his face wearing a neutral expression as the turbolift ground to a half to deposit them on Deck 24. Cross knew he had little choice but to resign himself to his fate as he allowed Seren to lead the way once more, following close on the counsellor’s heels as they made their way to Transporter Room 5. Seren wasn’t likely to change his mind once he had made it up, stubborn Vulcan logic and pride wouldn’t allow it. Cross considered stopping, considered sneaking off and avoiding Seren, though Seren’s brief and vague explanation of the situation had left Cross’ curiosity piqued.

Fucking hell… Cross grumbling inwardly as they stepped into the transporter room, moving to the transport pad as Seren requested the transport. In short order, the pair were deposited in Transporter Room 2 on Deck 05 or Vector 01, Cross blinking away the tracers left in his vision by the glow of the transporter beam. Sighing, Cross turned to nod at the Ensign standing behind the transporter controls. He saw the young Trill woman giving him a slight smile before he turned his attention to the other Vulcan in the room. ”Let’s get this hajari thing over with. Where are we going?” As he followed Seren off the transport pad and out into the corridor, Cross caught a glimpse of alarm in the your Ops officer’s features and realized he had been growling the words at the counsellor. With a bit of effort, Cross smoothed his tone over and spoke again. ”It might help if I knew what sort of situation we were walking into, counsellor. Walking blindly into life-and-death situations isn’t exactly my favourite way of going about things…”

Kardasi Translation:
Hajari - Fucking

Re: Day 14 [1235hrs] Horticultural Homicide

Reply #7 –
[Ensign Seren | Arboretum Café | Deck 20 | Vector 03| USS Theurgy]
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att: @Fife

" The reason for the assistance you will provide will be disclosed as soon as we arrive at the location. The inquiries into the matter until we get there are meaningless," Seren said without moving his eyes to look at the other Vulcan with whom he shared the turbolift. "And the fact that I have requested your cooperation and not that of other crew members is due to the fact that no one else on the ship possesses the skill set that this situation entails," he remarked in a marginally admonitory tone. The Vulcan knew that was not the full truth. Not entirely. Rather, it was a biased and efficiently trimmed version of the facts, but if that's what it took to keep Cross interested, Seren didn't mind keeping a handful of data just to himself. Certainly there were twenty-three crew members who could assist him in that disaster, but none of them would be able to understand the significant importance of what was in hand. Either Seren was acquainted enough with them to allow them to intervene in such a delicate matter. And the only women who were really able to understand the significance of all this were either not in possession of adequate expertise or should not witness the disgrace this meant for the young Vulcan. Or neither. Cross, on the other hand, was an acquaintance, he knew that he possessed a more than satisfactory skill level in the matter according to what he had witnessed in his rooms and he had no idea of the importance of this problem for Seren, but he surely would endeavour to solve it, so he would neither reprimand nor humiliate him. In addition, it was logical to establish a relationship with his patient outside of the consultation, so that their interactions would be more fluent, and what more logical way to do so than to reverse their roles? It was logical to ask for help.

The remainder of the voyage to the Transporter room proceeded in an appropriate silence and both men materialized in the Helmet without any event having disturbed their course. However, while Seren acknowledged the good work of the young Trill behind the transporter controls, his patient inquired about their destination. Seren ignored it and walked towards the door of the room, not taking his gaze away from it. "We head to my quarters," Seren explained. That at least he could reveal without divulging any additional details that might divulge too much intel. "We must take another turbolift to deck 15 and proceed 7 meters to the left at the first junction once we reach the library and research room," he added, disregarding the rest of the former hybrid's enquiries.

The counselor kept a stern silence until they reached his quarters door, restricting himself to moving forward with determination. Eventually, in front of the doors, Seren halted and finally stared into Cross' face. The counselor paused for 24.07 seconds as he studied his patient's features. At last, he found his disposition adequate and spoke again. "You must promise me that you will not disclose to anyone whatever befalls here or the task you will undertake here," he requested. Then he waited patiently until Cross gave his agreement or the closest thing to it. Once satisfied, Seren placed his hand on the side panel of the door and stepped into his accommodations.

It was one of the smaller quarters reserved for the junior officers and yet, given the scarce furniture (even less than the standard for such accomodations) it seemed almost ample. The planet's subtle orange light dimmed most of the room, highlighting subtly the profiles of a virtually empty shelf, a workstation beside which was stacked a pristine pile of padds, a meditation mat occupying a corner where there should have been a couch, the profile of its lute... The bed, however, was brightened vehemently by a glowing lamp on a shelf next to it. It hovered, almost scorching a dying orchid. The plant barely had two leaves intact and a brown, dried flower that at one time must have been pinkish.

Seren hurried through the room towards the plant and caressed one of the wilted leaves with obvious concern. As he did so, the leaf fell off the plant, tragically tumbling onto the shelf. Seren's eyebrows sank 3.4 mm into his brow before he turned to Cross. "Save it"

Re: Day 14 [1235hrs] Horticultural Homicide

Reply #8 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Arboretum Café | Deck 20 | Vector 03| USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Numen
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Seren informed Cross that the reason his assistance was necessary would be disclosed once the arrived at their destination. Cross had more or less expected such an answer, yet still found himself feeling a flash of annoyance when he heard the words spoken. That annoyance changed to a sense of befuddlement when Seren went on to state that he had asked Cross because nobody else on the ship had the skills the situation called for. Cross doubted that was true, finding it hard to believe he held any skills that someone else on the Theurgy wouldn’t be able to perform, but decided not to comment on the fact as he followed Seren through the corridors.
As they neared their destination, Seren informed him that it was the counsellor’s quarters that they were headed to, adding a few details as to the direction they were headed. As they finally pulled up outside Seren’s quarters, the counsellor turned and stared at him for some time. The man’s silent gaze began to grate on Cross, who’s expression gradually turned from a neutral one to more of a scowl.

"You must promise me that you will not disclose to anyone whatever befalls here or the task you will undertake here,"

”Oh, trust me Seren. I won’t be telling anyone.” Cross said, his voice a grumpy growl. The truth was, he wouldn’t have said anything even without Seren’s request. Cross wouldn’t want people to think he was out socializing with the counsellor or becoming a stuffy Vulcan himself.

Seren seemed to accept his words as reassurance, the counsellor activating the door panel. As the doors hissed open and the two stepped into the small space that served as quarters for the ship’s junior officers, Cross found himself glad to have advanced in rank, though the quarters Seren inhabited were both slightly larger and more comfortable looking than those Cross had occupied aboard smaller ships, even with the barren appearance that Seren had given to the room. Orange light from the planet below cast a warm glow through the viewport, basking the room’s interior in a pleasant hue which Cross allowed himself a moment to enjoy.

The room contained little. A stringed instrument of some sort, a meditation mat, a neatly stacked pile of PADDs, and…

”Save it.”

Seren’s speech surprised Cross, the former hybrid having not paid attention to Seren as the other man crossed the room. Now he saw Seren stood by the bed, his hand extended out towards…

”You hajari inbred Kuevdasi! What the haja did you do to this poor hajari plant?!?” Cross snarled as he crossed the room with several quick strides, pulling up short to inspect the brown, dried and wilted husk of what looked to have once been an orchid. ”Haja me, what did he do to you?” Cross spoke these words to the plant itself rather than Seren, his voice much softer as he reached up and gently felt the one sad, remaining leaf which clung to it’s existence. The leaf seemed to droop further, as though mourning the loss of its friend, or perhaps simply lamenting its rotten luck at ending up in the quarters of the monster who had brought about it’s slow, torturous decline towards death. Cross turned a stern gaze to Seren, his pale eyes hard as he regarded the counsellor. ”Haja, Seren, I’m a tactical officer, not a botanist! Why wouldn’t you go to one of them for this?” Cross’ eyes narrowed, a dark smile spreading over his features. ”Were you embarrassed?” Cross’ voice had a hint of enjoyment beneath the gruffness of the question, his pale blue eyes seeming alight with a sense of glee. ”Did you not want them to know the horrific, horticultural homicide you’re committing behind closed doors?” Cross’ face was practically alight with glee, enjoying the chance to take a job at the counsellor. ”That’s rather illogical, isn’t it, Seren?”

Not waiting for an answer, Cross lifted the plant from it’s perch beneath the lamp and carried it to the table. Once there, Cross prodded a finger into the substrate contained within the pot, a frown creasing his features as his mouth uttered a wordless grumble. Cross pinched some of the substrate and lifted it up a couple of inches, crumbling it between his fingers. Sighing, Cross straightened, levelling a stern gaze at Seren.

”What species of orchid did this poor thing begin life as?” Cross asked, ”You know, before you scorched the ever-living hell out of it with that lamp and dried it to within an inch of it’s life?”

Kardasi Translation:
Hajari – Fucking
Kuevdasi - Shitscale
Haja - Fuck

Re: Day 14 [1235hrs] Horticultural Homicide

Reply #9 –
[Ensign Seren | Seren's Personal Quarters | Deck 15 | Vector 01| USS Theurgy]
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att: @Fife

Seren blinked several times at the vehemence of Cross' reaction. "I can assure you that my two parents were not genetically related," he stated as he tried to find the exact meaning of the swear words that the former hybrid was uttering. The counsellor had heard them previously, both from the tactical officer himself and from his memories, but the kardasi still sounded alien and harsh in his ears. Even the UT hadn't quite got the knack of the language, at least not completely.

"And as for what I have done with that plant..." Seren took a few seconds before answering, seconds that the tallest Vulcan took advantage of to move him out of his place and start analyzing the orchid. Before the counselor had time to react, the tactical officer pointed out that his profession was different from that of a botanist and in a surprisingly quick exercise of deduction drew his own conclusions as to why Seren had summoned him to his quarters.

Seren straightened up more than usual, his posture more rigid and his expression more stern even. "Embarrasement is, indeed, illogical," he calmly pointed out as he used all his self-control to prevent his cheeks and the tips of his ears from turning green. "The ship's botanists have more pressing things to occupy themselves with than to attend to my request, so it was logical to seek out someone from another department that was more inactive," he succinctly explained. "Also, I have been witness to some of your noteworthy horticultural capabilities." Seren kept excusing himself. For a moment he had the urge to embark on an exercise in flattery towards Cross, on the principle that emotional creatures were more inclined to collaborate with those who praised their abilities or their appearance. However, a cursory study of Cross' face informed him that the odds of achieving the opposite effect from the one he intended were much greater. "I was not attempting to engage in a vegetable homicide, I was trying to make it thrive," he murmured quietly in protest.

The young Vulcan inhaled and exhaled deeply, and finally he divulged the closest thing to the actual reason behind Cross' presence. "You are in fact the only one of my acquaintances from whom I could ask for help in this endeavor. The rest of my contacts either do not possess the expertise or would be socially unadvisable to ask for their assistance," he stated. It was certain that he could have requested help from his savensu, but given what had transpired between them just a week earlier he was reluctant to disclose further inadequacies on his behalf. "You were the best choice," he said without further explanation as Cross researched the withered state of the orchid. Seren peeked over his side, trying to monitor what Cross was doing despite his inelegant size, without adding further insult to Cross' obvious outrage.

When the tactical officer finally appeared sufficiently calm, he stated a question and Seren hastened to provide an appropriate reply. " It is a bleeding-heart orchid," he declared, using the translation of the plant's common name on his homeworld. "Hephaestusflosferam Sanguinemcordis," he went on, using the scientific name he had been given according to the Federation's scientific convention.

"Can you save it?" Seren tilted his head and his eyebrows sank over his eyes in deep concern. "I cannot live here if it perish."

Re: Day 14 [1235hrs] Horticultural Homicide

Reply #10 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Arboretum Café | Deck 20 | Vector 03| USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Numen
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Cross listened to Seren speak without looking at the other Vulcan, instead focusing his gaze on the rather pathetic specimen which sat on the table before him.

"I was not attempting to engage in a vegetable homicide, I was trying to make it thrive," Seren explained in a voice that was a murmur rather than it’s usual sure, steady manner of speech. Cross’ jaw tightened as he suppressed a chuckle, the former hybrid suspecting that this was as akin to Seren being sullen as he was ever likely to see. Seren continued to speak, ultimately concluding that Cross was the best choice.

When Cross asked what species the plant had been before it’s descent into this state bordering on outright decay, Seren informed him that it was a Bleeding Heart Orchid, Hephaestusflosferam Sanguinemcordis, the information causing Cross to nod absently to himself as he continued his examination of the poor plant.

”Can you save it?" Seren tilted his head and his eyebrows sank over his eyes in deep concern. "I cannot live here if it perish."

The comment gave Cross pause, the former hybrid tempted for just a moment to state that the plant was unsalvageable, possibly prompting Seren to leave the ship altogether. The thought certainly had it’s appeal, though Cross’ love of plants was stronger than his desire to rid himself of the counsellor. In fact, Cross’ love of plants stemmed from the first time he had left the camp where he had grown up, the lush greenery of the nearly infinite species being such a stark contrast to the sterile medical environment where he had spent the beginning of his life. He had also found that, with his constant battle with the chaos of his emotions, some of his calmest moments were found while tending to the plants he always kept in his quarters, the simple beauty and life of the leafy green vegetation having a soothing effect on the volatile tactical officer. And as luck would have it, he had a specimen of Hephaestusflosferam Sanguinemcordis back in his own quarters, that particular specimen acquired from the Theurgy’s Arboretum.

Not that Cross was about to share that last bit of information with the counsellor who was presently peering over his shoulder…

”Ok, Seren, I’m going to show you how to properly care for this poor thing.” Cross said with a sigh, glancing over his shoulder at the shorter Vulcan, who practically had to stand on tiptoe to see past Cross. ”You’re in luck. I have a Bleeding Heart in my quarters right now, so I should be able to help you.” As he spoke, Cross’ voice had softened from it’s usual growl it took on when dealing with Seren to a calm murmur. Apparently even this poor, emaciated specimen had the usual calming effect on him. ”You’ll do better on the other side of the table, so you can see.” Cross gestured to the other side of the table before straightening up. ”I’ll need to use your replicator. We’ll need a few things to work with. Starting with a new pot. This one isn’t ideal for an orchid.” The words were not accusatory, but simply stated as a matter of fact. Cross surprisingly found that he didn’t’ wish to berate Seren, but rather was happy to educate the other Vulcan in the proper care of such a beautiful plant. At least, he hoped it would be eventually.

Cross strode to the replicator, though paused when he arrived and glanced over his shoulder at Seren. ”Do you have any preference for patterns on the pot?” Cross suspected that Seren might deem the question to be illogical and irrelevant, but Cross found that a nice pot could add a certain character to the plant if held, and wanted to give Seren the option. The nice thing about replicators was you could replicate the pot to the specifications the plant required, and still add a bit of design to it to fit in with… whatever aesthetic Seren was going for.

The man’s quarters were pretty barren, not that Cross’ own were much better.

Re: Day 14 [1235hrs] Horticultural Homicide

Reply #11 –
[Ensign Seren | Seren's Personal Quarters | Deck 15 | Vector 01| USS Theurgy]
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att: @Fife

Cross seemed to calm down and, in lieu of his usual cantankerous and belligerent temperament, he displayed an almost proper, restrained demeanour. Formative even. Seren shifted his weight back onto the ball of his feet and he complied with the orders issued by the tactical officer with his head slightly tilted over one shoulder. The counselor felt curious, not only about what Cross was willing to instruct him, but about the sudden shift in the man's behavior. He was conducting himself nearly indidentifiably like a Vulcan. An unexpected and fascinating development even if the existence of a sessile being and the wholeness of Seren's Household were endangered.

As soon as Seren had assumed his place at the other end of the table, Cross relinquished his position and announced that he needed to use the replicator. A logical statement.  The young Vulcan simply nodded at the request and Cross proceeded to the device. The side panel emitted the customary beeps and clics as Cross introduced the basic parameters of the new orchid pot. However, before introducing the final instruction that would reproduce the planter in the replicator's niche, Cross hesitated. Seren tilted his head an additional five degrees.

The former hybrid requested to know his aesthetic preferences about the prospective habitat of the plant.  A sensible request that Seren had not anticipated. A display of deference quite distinct from the hostility and antagonism that Cross was routinely shown toward the Ensign. The Vulcan blinked slowly, astonished despite himself. Particularly since he, in fact, had a preferential pattern for the pot.

"Design: S3LV-S2" he pointed out quietly. He didn't thank Cross deference. It was an illogical social construct. But his voice rang out slightly less austere than was customary for him. The replicator executed the order. In the hollow of the device, the flowerpot was revealed, following the basic patterns introduced by the tactical officer. The surface of the planter was arranged in a triangular patterning, each face oriented slightly apart from the adjacent ones. The surface was in appearance solely white, however, when the planet's slight glow impinged on any of the surfaces at the correct angle, the surface glittered in a multicolored litmus, revealing the hidden pattern on each surface, minute, rectilinear fractals. Everything seemed mathematically planned, except for a line that divided the pot in two. It suggested that the object had been broken at some point in the past and that someone had spent time and effort repairing the damage by joining the pieces together with a golden material. This gave a natural, almost organic quality to the piece.

Seren took the item with reverence from the replicator. It was a copy of something that was in his household, on Earth. A pot that he had broken when he was a child and that his father, for some reason, had decided to repair and maintain in use. For years the original one had ornamented the small space that separated their two bedrooms, and for Seren it had always been homonymous to a home. His thumbs outlined the ceramic profiles for a moment before he offered it to Cross.

"I find this model agreeable," Seren said, as he waited for her patient, now a docent, began to share his horticultural wisdom.

Re: Day 14 [1235hrs] Horticultural Homicide

Reply #12 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Arboretum Café | Deck 20 | Vector 03| USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Numen
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Cross punched in Seren’s requested design of S3LV-S2, applying the design template to the exterior of a pot design which would make a suitable home for the orchid, then waited as the replicator whirred to life, the pot materializing into being on the small shelf within the replicator. After studying the pot for a moment, finding the nearly hidden patterns and distinct geometry oddly to his liking, Cross lifted the pot, cradling it under one arm. He punched in several more orders, depositing the tools into the pot as they appeared. Once he had everything he needed, Cross turned and moved back to the table, placing the pot on the tabletop and removing the tools from within to arrange them to the left of the pot.

”One more thing, then we’ll get started.”

Cross moved back to the replicator, punching in the parameters for the same orchid medium he used with his own plants, then returned to the table with the bag, placing the mixture on the right of the pot.

”To start with, you were using the wrong potting medium for your plant.” Cross said, the words not accusatory but simply stating a fact. To illustrate this point, Cross took a pinch of the soil in the pot and held it up, crumbling it between two fingers. ”Orchid’s don’t grow well in dirt. They have much coarser roots than many other plants, and they tend to benefit from air circulation around the root systems. Dirt tends to clump together when it is watered, and can become packed around the orchid’s roots and strangle your plant.” Cross glanced at the rather pathetic specimen which sat on the table in front of him. ”That’s only one of the ways you’ve been killing this poor thing, but we’ll deal with that first.”

Cross opened the bag of orchid medium, lifting a handful out for Seren’s inspection. ”The best medium to grow an orchid in is coarse. Larger chunks of bark, perlite, grit, and moss. The bark and mess will hold moisture, but the large pieces will allow for some airflow around the roots as well.” Cross dumped the handful of medium into the new pot, then tipped the bag to fill it up to around the halfway point.

Cross then pulled the poor, wilted husk of an orchid from it’s pot, lifted a small instrument form the table which looked like a single chopstick, and began to gently work the caked dirt from the orchid’s root ball. ”See how this stuff’s caked onto the roots? You’ve been strangling this poor thing, as well as slowly baking it to death under that lamp.” Cross briefly glanced at the lamp under which the orchid had been residing. ”If this poor hajari plant could talk, it would probably have been gasping for air in between screams as you slowly roasted it alive.” A brief look of irritation flashed across Cross’ features, though it disappeared as fast as it had come as Cross turned his attention back to the plant, his creases in his brow disappearing at he worked with the brown, dried out semblance of an orchid. Cross’ tone changed again as he continued working with the plant, growing slightly warmer as he poked and prodded chunks of packed dirt free from the plant’s thick, coarse roots. ”Most orchids don’t need a lot of direct light. This little guy would do just fine without the added light, and certainly without the heat put out by that lamp. The UV spectrum put out by the standard lights in your quarters should be perfectly fine for keeping this little fella happy.” Cross seemed to have forgotten his habit of growling at Seren altogether at that point, his focus remaining entirely on the plant as he spoke, the words little fella having been spoken with a sort of affection and a slight smile.

The smile disappeared as Cross came to a realization. ”Haja,” Cross muttered as he worked at the dirt, ”I forgot something. Would you please replicate me a spray bottle full of water? We’ll need it later, but I can also use it to clean these root up.” Cross paused in his work, glancing at Seren for a moment. ”Out of curiosity, how often do you water the orchid? And have you been fertilizing it?”

Kardasi Translation:
Hajari – Fucking
Haja - Fuck

Re: Day 14 [1235hrs] Horticultural Homicide

Reply #13 –
[Ensign Seren | Seren's Personal Quarters | Deck 15 | Vector 01| USS Theurgy]
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att: @Fife

Seren leaned forward, his body looming over the table to peer closely at Cross's actions. There was a meticulous and delicate precision in the way the former hybrid worked around the plant, he seemed almost like a different person as he manipulated the small, shriveled-up sessile being. It was as if the activity was more effective than meditation for Cross, as if it allowed him to escape from the havoc of his own mind and steer him towards something more constructive. It was a fascinating discovery that he should study in more depth in the future. Perhaps the level of influence of that activity could be channelled into mastering the emotional morass that governed so much of his demeanour.

However, this was not the time for such lucubrations, so Seren set his counselor condition aside for a while to focus on the advice that the tactical officer was providing. Cross elaborated on the ideal substrate conditions for that botanical genus while at the same time he released the orchid's roots. Despite his calmer behaviour and his educational discourse, the glaucous-eyed Vulcan was unable to avoid interjecting a couple of snarky comments and a few profane words in Kardasi, while his features regained for a moment the bitter expression that seemed to inhabit perpetually in his features. However, that harsh expression soon faded, and Cross regained an almost relaxed countenance in barely 1.23 seconds. Spurred on by the almost proper attitude he was demonstrating so far, Seren indulged in a slight correction. "You need an organ capable of moving air akin to lungs to enable the ability to speak or some kind of telepathic capacity. To the extent that I am informed no vegetable organism has developed any of these competencies in Vulcan, so your proposal of an orchid gasping is quite illogical," he remarked without averting his eyes from Cross' hands. "Furthermore, in the event that this Hephaestusflosferam Sanguinemcordis had been able to communicate with me I would have corrected my attitude towards it so that it would not be subjected to the torture you have described." Seren's words were delivered with his usual dispassionate manner. After all, the young ensign's purpose was to make the plant thrive, not torment it. Despite the strange ideas that Cross seemed to harbor about him and the culture he embodied, Seren respected life and had no inclination toward sadism. It was, after all, an unreasonable attitude.

The tactical officer proceeded to relate the plant's light needs, which made Seren tilt his head, slightly confused: "This orchid comes from Vulcan, so I deduced that its light and radiation needs would be closer to those of the desert. I have attempted to recreate The Forge's conditions for it, except for the geomagnetic instabilities, obviously," he explained. The fact was that the counselor hadn't even considered the likelihood that the plant came from one of the gentler areas of his native world. Compared to planets with more temperate climates, such as the Earth, which had very diverse and different ecosystems, Vulcan had very little variation in terms of biotopes, the differences depending mainly on the greater or lesser influence of wind, the specific characteristics of the lithology and topography, and the presence of precipitation (or the proximity of the area in question to the few seas and lakes on the planet). With the exception of these small variations, it could be assured, with little margin of error, that any living being in Vulcan was adapted to the harsh desert conditions, which is what Seren had tried to emulate for the orchid. Obviously, his assumption had been wrong, which had promoted the plant's decline. This realization concerned Seren so much that he overlooked the fact that Cross was referring to the plant as a sentient being. Once again.

Cross halted on his work, raising his gaze to the face of the younger Vulcan. "Out of curiosity, how often do you water the orchid? And have you been fertilizing it?" he asked after petitioning him to replicate a container dedicated to moisturizing the dwindling plant. Seren took a few seconds to answer, as he concentrated on typing the commands into the device that would provide the watering mixture and its container. "I used an NPK fertilizer with the addition of sulfur blended into the water, 1-1-3 proportion with the sulfide in alternate doses," he explained as the small spray materialized in the replicator's nacelle. Seren retraced his steps back to the table. "I irrigated the plant with 30 milliliters of this fluid every three days," he described, depositing the bottle, which could barely contain three doses of water under the counselor specifications, next to Cross

" Incidentally, a minute ago you alluded to the plant as a masculine entity," Seren pointed out with curiosity. "Given the current state of the plant I cannot confirm if this is correct, if it is a female or hermaphrodite plant as is often the case in angiosperms. Is this relevant for the future care of the orchid? It will improve its condition if it is given a partner of the opposite gender?," he asked, staring into Cross' eyes.

Re: Day 14 [1235hrs] Horticultural Homicide

Reply #14 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Seren's Quarters | Deck 15 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Numen
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Cross only half listened as Seren made mention of the fact that the orchid lacked the necessary organs to both scream and talk, the former hybrid having become somewhat accustomed to the other man’s manner. Seren’s literal take on such things made sense, given his logical Vulcan upbringing, though Cross wasn’t about to hold back with his own comments because of that. It also helped that Seren’s comments didn’t provoke an annoyed response from Cross, concentrating on the plant as he was.

When Seren went on to explain his line of thinking which had brought him to nearly bake the plant to death, Cross had to admit that his reasoning was almost sound.

Almost.

Cross sighed as he looked up from the orchid for a moment, regarding Seren with an almost amused expression. ”I’ll admit, drawing that conclusion based on Vulcan’s climate could be considered logical…” Cross’ mouth twitched with the hint of a smile, which took considerable effort to hold back. ”Though it might also have been logical to do a search of the database to find out what sort of environment these orchids grown in.” Cross turned his attention back to the orchid, continuing to remove the packed dirt from it’s roots. The smile finally won out, spreading over his features. As he worked, he glanced at Seren out of the corner of his eye. ”Just saying…” After a few more minutes of working, Cross listened as Seren answered his question regarding fertilizer and watering, nodding as he listened.

”That amount of water is fine, though I’d suggest only watering it once every 7 days. Much like the orchids on Earth, Vulcan orchids thrive in a state of near neglect.” Cross accepted the spray bottle which Seren brought back form the replicator with a nod of thanks, then continued speaking as he started misting water onto the roots to help soften the packed dirt. ”A 1-1-3 ratio fertilizer might be a bit heavy on the potassium. I’ve got a Vulcan orchid in my quarters along with one form Earth, and I’ve been feeding them a 20-20-20 ratio which I dilute quite heavily in the water I use. I don’t know it that’s the proper ratio normally used for Vulcan orchids, but mine seems to like it just fine.” Cross glanced at Seren and shrugged. ”In my experience, when it comes to plants as long as they’re doing well and thriving then there’s no point in changing what you’re doing.” Cross looked back at the emaciated orchid he held before him, reflecting the Seren perhaps should have picked up on such a thing. This orchid was certainly not thriving…

The spray bottle was doing a good job of loosening up the dirt, and Cross used a cloth to gentle rub the moistened dirt away from the roots. Seren spoke again as Cross worked, bringing up Cross’ reference to the plant in a masculine manner. Cross heard the words, an puzzled about them as he placed the orchid down into the half filled pot. Seren continued, stating that he couldn’t confirm the plant to be a masculine entity in it’s current state, but asked if it was relevant to the care of the orchid. Cross glanced up at Seren with a confused look as Seren went on, asking if providing the orchid with a partner of the opposite gender with assist the orchid in thriving.

Cross blinked.

Then Cross blinked again.

”The ha….…” Cross caught himself, cutting off mid-sentence and staring at Seren blankly for a moment. All the while, his mind was working, a devious idea taking form in his mind. ”Of course it would help! Plants get lonely, and having a friend would definitely help it recover.” Turning his attention back to the plant, Cross began adding small amounts of the orchid medium to the pot, using a chostick-like tool to gently work the medium down among the plants’ thick roots. ”Most people don’t believe plants have feelings, but I firmly believe they do. They benefit from being talked to, and from being around other plants.” That wasn’t entirely a lie. Cross talked to his plants quite frequently, and firmly believed it affected them. Besides which, grouping several together had the benefit of increasing the localized humidity, which would certainly benefit the orchids.

That wasn’t going to stop Cross having a bit of fun with Seren, though.

”In fact, there are some who believe that orchid benefit a great deal from having a designated life partner. Some cultures who have close ties with the flora they coexist with even perform weddings for their plants. I knew someone who did that with their orchids, and her plants were incredible!” Cross looked at Seren with wide eyes. ”I’ve never seen such healthy plants, and they almost never stopped flowering!” Cross looked back down at the pot and continued his work. ”I haven’t married my new orchids yet. There’s three of them, and I don’t want the odd one out to get jealous, so I’m waiting until I acquire a fourth before I pair them off.”

Cross was rather proud of himself, having managed to keep a steady tone and a straight face throughout the delivery of such a ridiculous statement. He fell silent now as he worked, leaning down over the orchid as he worked the bits of orchid mix into the roots. ”I’ll need to replicate you a humidity tray once we’re finished. Basically a shallow bowl with pebbles in it. Keep it topped up with water, and it’ll raise the humidity in the area around the plant. Married plants can share a humidity tray, so they both benefit from it.”

Cross made a mental note to talk to Blue and have her hack the Theurgy's database to alter the info in case Seren tried to confirm what he was saying.

"Once you get this little guy a mate, I can show you how to cross-pollinate them if you like..."

Re: Day 14 [1235hrs] Horticultural Homicide

Reply #15 –

[Ensign Seren | Seren's Personal Quarters | Deck 15 | Vector 01| USS Theurgy]
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att: @Fife

When Cross pointed out the flaw in his logic in regard to the research of information about the orchid, Seren couldn't help but concede that he was correct. Although he didn't verbalize this information and just kept staring at the former hybrid's performance with a slight tension in his lower lip. It was certain that an inquiry would have been an ideal procedure, but Seren had not estimated that kind of deviation from the pattern of the Vulcan flora. Moreover, his father had cultivated so many different plants and so many varieties of them that he could never imagine that their care would be particularly complex. A perception that had proved to be erroneous. His current workload, various commitments, and the increase of time spent in his meditation sessions had distracted him from researching about the care of the vegetable until the problem had reached the current critical stage, which obviously had demanded an expert's assistance. An expert who, at that time, highlighted his misconception.

The young Vulcan let that his eyebrows descended faintly over his dark eyes, and devoted himself to carefully studied the lesson in order to prevent a similar failure in the future. And in following Cross's instructions to the letter, as well as in setting aside 44.6 minutes of research on Hephaestusflosferam Sanguinemcordis care this same day, after his end-day meal. At the same time, he took one of the neatly stacked padds on the desk and proceeded to make careful notations about the tactical officer's recommendations, while he continued to interrogate the man about the issue. His gaze merely wandered between the small screen and the work that was being performed around the plant.

He only raised his eyes when Cross seemingly hesitated to provide an answer. Yet, he found only an appropriately restrained expression on Cross which offered him a quick and detailed explanation of the benefits of keeping vegetables in community, especially if a stable pairing was established between two of them. Certainly, it was a strange concept that was bordering on logic, but Seren was aware of some cultural groups that had a strong relationship with the flora and fauna that composed their environment and, through his experience with the small botanical garden that Selv had maintained as well as his predisposition to walk around the Arboretum, ha has the proof that vegetation was more often than not maintained in communal arrangements. So, despite the bizarre concept and the highly unreasonable idea of engaging in conversation with a being unable to answer his disgressions, he took the information that Cross had given him as good. Even more so when the man claimed to have empirical evidence of the fact. In previous days he might have doubted the veracity of his words, but the impeccable behavior shown by the former hybrid since he began working with the withered vegetable encouraged him to trust in the veracity of his statements.

"I consider that for now, to provide a companion will be enough, I need to investigate about the most suitable individual to cohabit with this specimen, even more if it is recommended that they should share a humidity tray", stated Seren eluding the suggestion about the cross-pollinitation. " In addition, I estimate that its current state is quite far from optimal to engage in reproductive activity. Once it has had time to thrive along with its future mate, I will ask for your assistance in arrange the bonding ceremony and then I will explore the possibility of breeding them," he said earnestly. Seren paused for a few seconds before asking the next question. "Is there any particular area of interest about what i can make a discourse to the orchid in order to improving its growth? Can music be of any benefit to its improvement? Any particular genre, perhaps?," he inquired, nodding at the lute that lay at the foot of his bed.

Re: Day 14 [1235hrs] Horticultural Homicide

Reply #16 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Arboretum Café | Deck 20 | Vector 03| USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Numen
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It was all Cross could do to keep a straight face as Seren agreed to get his plant, still quite pathetic in it’s current condition, a roommate for it’s humidity tray. Seren went on to add that in it’s current state, that state being sad and rather pathetic, it would not be optimal to engage in reproductive activities.

Glancing at the other Vulcan, Cross thought to himself that the statement likely summed up Seren’s romantic life as well.

Cross again turned his attention to the plant as Seren made mention of seeking Cross’ assistance in arranging the bonding ceremony for the plants. Cross smiled, but spoke to mask his grin. ”That’s the last of the orchid substrate. It’s got a nice new home.” Cross straightened from leaning over the plant, then retrieved some sphagnum moss and added a layer of the stuff on top of the substrate. ”Keep the spray bottle full. Mist the moss so that it’s moist once a week midway between waterings. It’ll help keep the air around the orchid humid.’ Cross informed Seren. The former hybrid paused as Seren posed his question about what to talk to the orchid about, and about whether or not music would be a benefit to the plant.

”I don’t think they have a particular interest in anything, really.” Cross admitted, ”You can pretty much talk to them about anything. I think they just like the attention. You could always try various subjects, and see if any provoke a different response.” Cross shrugged. ”They don’t talk back, but they’re great listeners. Mine seem perfectly content to listen to me grumble about my counsellor.” Cross gave Seren a wink and a grin, then glanced at the lute which Seren had indicated a moment ago. ”As for music, I’ve heard people say plants respond well to it. Mine certainly don’t seem to mind it.” Cross moved to the foot of Seren’s bed, leaning forward to inspect the instrument but made no move to touch it. ”I’m assuming you’ve been playing this?” Cross asked, glancing over at Seren before straightening up once more. ”You could also try playing other music for it, though I don’t think it’ll mind one way or the other. I’d stay away from Klingon Opera though. How the Klingons listen to the stuff is beyond me, and I doubt your little green friend… er… brown friend right now I guess… would be any more fond of the genre than the rest of the galaxy is.”

Cross moved back to the table and leaned down to inspect the orchid once more. ”It will likely take a bit of time for the orchid to show improvement, but this should certainly help. Give him some water, keep him away form that hajari lamp, and it should perk up again.” Cross turned and looked at Seren. ”You could also try an easier plant, if you wish to add more to your quarters. Cacti and Succulents from Earth are pretty low maintenance. I had several in my old quarters before…” Cross trailed off, then shrugged, not finishing the sentence. A brief image of a cactus with a Borg ocular implant embedded in it flashed through his mind before Cross turned his attention back to Seren. If you need any more help with this little fellow, you can always message me on my PADD. Preferably before it gets as bad as this again…”[/color]

Kardasi Translation:
Hajari – Fucking

Re: Day 14 [1235hrs] Horticultural Homicide

Reply #17 –

[Ensign Seren | Seren's Personal Quarters | Deck 15 | Vector 01| USS Theurgy]
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att: @Fife


Seren reclined again over the desk, his gaze intently focused on Cross' movements, his concentration sharp as an engaged trainee. The addition of moss and indications regarding its moistening were received with a sharp nod before the addition of the instructions, verbatim, onto the Padd. Cross proceeded to instruct him on suitable conversation subjects for the sessile being, which proved to be... anything. The vagueness of the guideline left him puzzled, which caused that he blinked a couple of times as he stared at his small screen. He was still trying to formulate the instructions in a more logical way when Cross' statement about his complaints regarding his appointed counselor made his move his gaze from the device. The young Vulcan stared at his patient for 23.5 seconds. "I do not comprehend why you have the need to complain about your counsellor. In my experience he is a qualified professional and a remarkably correct and polite person," he reproached Cross without the slightest alteration in his tone of voice. "In fact, some of my acquaintances value my company in high regard, as savensu Hathev" he pointed out.

But the former hybrid changed the subject immediately, referring to the musical preferences of the plant, which turned out to be almost as ambiguous as the conversational topics that were beneficial to it. However, unlike his previous pronouncement, this one didn't include a cutting remark directed towards the counsellor, but rather even seemed to be intrigued by his person. Marginally. "I have indeed been practicing the lute on a regular basis in the vicinity of the orchid," he reported. A sudden thought made him tilt his head to one side, pensive. Seren made his way across the room to stand beside the tallest Vulcan, bent down and took the instrument between his hands. "Lately I have been practising an antique human style known as 'blues,'" he explained, ripping the strings gently. The musical instrument emitted a soft and melodious sound, although certainly melancholic. "I am aware that it is considered to be a taciturn genre, perhaps something more spirited is advisable," he pondered, caressing the strings in a meditative manner. The instrument responded by emitting the first chords of a cheerful music for dancing.

Seren kept strumming the strings inadvertently as Cross walked back to his spot by the table and presented the final instructions for caring for the decaying plant. Among other things, that he should keep it away from the lamp. Seren emphasized this statement with a couple of deep notes as he strolled through the tiny room. That short musical accompaniment made Cross sound even more grumpy, if that was possible. However, although his voice was still somewhat hostile, the tactical officer offered his assistance regarding other plants and encouraged him to consult with him if he had any need for help with the vegetable. This was certainly an improvement over their previous interactions, in which Cross had been very vocal about his dissatisfaction if he had to meet with the counsellor for a single second outside of the designated sessions. He wrinkled his nose a bit, making an effort to compel himself to perform an action he considered highly illogical. However, under the circumstances, he felt it was imperative. After he placed the instrument back in its stand, Seren turned to face Cross, inhaled deeply, and stated "Your assistance has been highly gratifying and beneficial," he declared to express his gratitude. "I will endeavour to follow your advice accurately and provide you with regular reports on its progress." Seren hesitated for 2.3 seconds before adding. "I would request your guidance concerning the election of any new specimen to accompany this one, and I would cherish deeply if you could guide me in doing so. Clearly this plant needs a partner," he declared with less confidence than he was accustomed to. "Besides, I ask you to consider a compensation in accordance with the assistance you have provided, and to communicate it to me as soon as possible," he added, running his fingers along the lute strings again. The instrument responded with a hesitant, placid, almost timid sound.

savensu -> teacher

Re: Day 14 [1235hrs] Horticultural Homicide

Reply #18 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Seren's Quarters | Deck 15 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Numen
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Seren had stared at Cross for a long moment when Cross had made his remark about grumbling to his plants about his counsellor, then finally broken the overly lengthy silence by stating that he couldn’t comprehend why Cross would do such a thing, adding that Cross’ counsellor was a “qualified professional” as well as a “remarkably correct and polite person”. Cross fought back the urge to snort out a laugh. Seren went on to remark that some of his acquaintances held him in quite high esteem.

Hathev, for one.

Cross simply shrugged, not wanting to get into an argument with the counsellor. He had no doubt such a debate would only leave him enraged, even with the work he was doing on the plant. Cross admittedly held Hathev in high regard, and he didn’t doubt that the two Vulcans would get along. That Seren continually seemed to lump Cross in with the other Vulcans was a frustration. Cross had only been a full Vulcan for just over two weeks, and would never behave like one. Yes, he had been seeking Hathev’s help in getting his emotions under control, but there was a vast difference between full emotional suppression and simply not wanting to break things every time he became annoyed. Or to not throw Ensign Briggs across another torpedo bay…

Cross pushed those thoughts aside as Seren spoke again, telling of how he practiced his lute near the orchid. Apparently the counsellor had been playing human style blues, and went on to muse that perhaps something more upbeat would do the plant some good. ”I honestly don’t know how much the plant would care about any particular genre of music one way or the other, though it couldn’t hurt. It’s certainly worth a try.” Cross said by way of reply as Seren fondled the instrument, causing a note to sound softly throughout the room. Seren kept up his strumming as Cross returned to the table and continued to slouch over the plant, the instrument filling the small quarters with a cheerful tune. Cross enjoyed old Earth classical and orchestral music, and the tune Seren played wasn’t bad, though Cross would chew off his own tongue before he admitted as much to the other Vulcan. Seren was already seeking him out and hovering creepily behind Cross while he ate, and Cross didn’t need the socially awkward counsellor to try adding music to the mix. People might think the counsellor was trying to woo Cross, or worse, they might think they were friends.

Cross fought the urge to tap his foot in time with the music.

Completing a few small final checks on the plant, Cross straightened and looked over at Seren, seeing the man putting the instrument back on it’s stand. Seren turned to him and, surprisingly, thanked him. In a very Vulcan manner.

Cross listened as Seren spoke, surprised to find the Vulcan asking Cross so come up with some way Seren might compensate him for his assistance. Cross blinked in surprise, sating at Seren briefly before blurting out. ”Why the haja would I need compensation?” Cross realized this might come across as rather harsh, and so continued. ”I haven’t done anything difficult. Repotting a plant hardly warrants any need of compensation.” Cross shrugged, turning to glance down at the plant in question. ”It’s all fixed up in it’s new pot. It should start to improve before too long. You can put it wherever you like, as long as it’s not right under that lamp. Remember to mist it between waterings, and it should come back from the brink.” Cross glanced at Seren. ”If you need any more help or advice, you can just message me and ask. That would probably work much better than simply showing up and lurking over me while I eat.” That had been both irritating and vaguely creepy.

Those words summed up Seren nicely, now that Cross thought about it.

”If you follow what I said, you should have no trouble keeping the orchids healthy. Though as I said, you might be interested in looking into some of the tougher, less demanding plants as well. I know Commander Hathev keeps cacti in her office, and I used to keep some aboard the Endeavour.” Cross shrugged. ”They can add a different look, and come in a range of shapes depanding on what species you pick. You might find the variety pleasant.”

Cross smiled slightly, imagining Seren being stuck my the tiny, sharp spines.

Kardasi Translation:
Haja - Fuck

Re: Day 14 [1235hrs] Horticultural Homicide

Reply #19 –
[Ensign Seren | Seren's Personal Quarters | Deck 15 | Vector 01| USS Theurgy]
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att: @Fife


At first, his patient seemed irritated at his proposal of a compensation for his services, and he fell back into the nefarious habit of cursing in kardasi. Seren blinked once before Cross seemed to revisit his statement and rephrase it in a different fashion. He considered his attendance unworthy of retribution, though Seren had a diametrically opposed opinion on the matter. However, he decided not to point this out and instead accepted the former hybrid decision with a single nod. For his side, the tactical officer repeated the instructions that Seren had already taken note of, both mentally and in his padd, as if he considered that the young Vulcan suffered from some cognitive deficiency that made him require such (illogical) emphasis. A certainly inaccurate assumption that made him raise his left eyebrow 0.6 centimeters.

"I will ensure subsequent inquiries are made in the form of a message henceforth. Nevertheless, I would like to state that personal interaction is usually more efficient in situations like this," Seren said after Cross' offer of further assistance or information if the counselor needed it. He remained silent for a few brief seconds before he added. "And I would also remind you that I was not 'lurking' behind you: I was merely waiting till you had finished the consumption of your meal, as you have proven to be highly inefficient in this simple task," he stated. Seren's estimates would have been correct for a Vulcan and for most of the non-Vulcan crew, but the tallest Vulcan seemed to be stalling his food intake in a totally irrational and unnecessary manner. He could possibly address this issue in the following meeting to get to the root of this need to waste time on unimportant activities. It was an illogical, whimsical and careless attitude.

Adjectives which, on the other hand, could also be applied to the Cross, appropriately summarizing its general disposition, now that Seren thought about it.

Whatever the case, Cross proceeded to suggest that he should add cacti to his small botanical garden. Seren tilted her head, recalling some of the succulent plants that inhabited the Vulcan grove of the arboretum. Certainly many of them were aesthetically pleasant and would surely give his cabin an atmosphere befitting his home planet. When Cross pointed out that Hathev kept several of these thorn-filled plants in her office, Seren nodded subtly. He was well aware of that fact, as well as of how the Chief Counsellor had been initiated into this habit of tending vegetables, something that his patient was possibly unaware of. However, that brief reminder of the event made him resolve to accept Cross' suggestion. "Once I have ensured that this orchid and its future companion are in optimum condition I will contact Cir'Cie to request some of the cacti from the Arboretum," he stated leniently. Or at least as leniently as he was able to do without shattering his impeccable facade of inexpressivity.

Cross looked somewhat pleased, and a smile briefly sparkled on his face. There was something peculiar about that smile, but Seren did not dwell on it too much. After all, a smiling vulcan was invariably something notorious. Without further ado, the young ensign took the new tray and placed it on the shelf next to his bed, spending several minutes repositioning it until it was perfectly aligned and balanced with the rest of the scarce elements on the shelf. For a moment, he held a small ivory box in his hands, until he decided to place it in the shade of the only leaf that the orchid kept, so that it was half hidden. After a short pause, Seren took the box again and placed it closer to the head of the bed, where the light from the window hit the hand-engraved spirals on the lid.

He then set about dematerializing the lamp that had scorched the orchid and rearranging the materials that Cross had used so that his rooms would look as neat and pristine as they had been previously. When he had finished, he raised his hand in the ta'al and said as a farewell. "Life long and Prosper, Lieutenant Commander." Cross responded awkwardly, as expected, and left the room, while Seren was left alone with his duties.



FIN
 
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