"Studies"

[Guest Laarell]

Laarell flopped into her chair at Science, late into third-shift, dismissing the on-Bridge officer and settling in for some zen-scanning. Sensors off the bow, good. Stern pallet -- good.

 

Laarell -- tired.

 

She'd spent a busy day -- up at dawn for the Satarimi cloud city. This had meant she'd had about three hours of sleep-time, once the ceremonies and receptions and endless diplomatic functions had ended late in the night. Then a dawn "sky-tour", which gave her the opportunity to holo-pic some of the surface aerially -- though the "three-hour tour" advertisement was... discomifiting.

 

By mid-morning, she'd seen enough water and beach and surf that would normally make her happy to return to cloud-dwelling. But the planet was a classic O-class, the very definition of Pelagic; scanty in terms of land-masses -- something that was appealing to the side of her that was geologically inclined. Supposedly the continents had "sunk" into the sea -- and Laarell wanted a look at that sort of seismic activity. But rocks were never her strongpoint...

 

Which had brought someone else into the equation. Laarell always prided herself on her scientific acumen and skills of observation, but even the greatest set of senses and Sci's best tricorder couldn't beat... well.... There was something useful being able to tell how old a rock was, whether it had volcanic influence, whether it was local or brought glacially, just by taking a bite of it.

 

This was why she brought Kahrak along. Kahrak was... a genius when it came to the random hoodoo and boulder. There wasn't any mystery in how he'd been about ready to jump to the top of Starfleet's geology division -- and Laarell felt just a bit guilty for dragging the Horta onto Excalibur right when he had the chance to max out his favorite career track. But Kahrak was the one who'd first planted the idea in her head, and if she had the opportunity to give him a bit of fieldwork (and an accompanying alien snack), she'd give it to him.

 

They'd spent a few hours out on various islands, collecting samples, data, and, in the Horta's case, bite-sized treats. Planets where rocks lay about were all-you-can-eat buffets, a concept which always highly amused Laarell -- especially when she forgot that not everything mineral was tasty mineral.

 

That's disgusting," he wheezed, and somehow, he ejected a large piece of a marbloid from wherever his mouth was.

 

"I thought you liked marble chips."

 

"Not when they're laced with sulfur!" he complained.

 

"Oh." Laarell pondered that for a moment. "So that's why you didn't outright destroy the travertine deposits when we went to Yellowstone."

 

"I should have learned my lesson," he bemoaned his sad, silicon fate. "Beware things with yellow streaks."

 

Kahrak had one of those minds which managed to function like a computer -- sometimes Laarell thought Hortae were part android. He was already forming some sort of hypothesis on the events which brought about the land-mass degradation, which was making her head hurt with the physics and chemistry of it. Then again, the Horta was working on post-doctoral level work on geological processes -- naturally she couldn't be expected to keep up with everything he said.

 

In short, he'd determined that something in the geological timetables usually associated with continental drift was off -- by a few epochs. The Horta, as always the conspiracy theorist, was convinced that something unnatural had occurred, and had therefore abandoned her with suggestions she spend her time doing some "cultural research" -- in short, she should go learn more about the people while he tackled the hard sciences.

 

Kahrak always had such faith in her. Her ego always took curative hits with him around; he was a good reality boost for the Orion.

 

Thusly alone, she'd spent the rest of the day recording the telekinetic artists, listening to folk tales (some of which she hoped might help out the Hortan theories of "how the land sank into the sea"), and then, work done, the evening imbibing on a cloudy terrace overlooking the sea.

 

Productive day, yes. But tiring. And Laarell was happy to crash again on her ship, without the vague fear that soon she would go crashing over the edge of a cloud city.