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Sam_SemaJ

observations - log from Sam Sema'J

Dr. Samuel Sema'J was not an anthropologist. His last class in anything like field anthropology was at Starfleet Academy. That seemed a lifetime ago. It was - he was an entirely different person now. Since that time he had come to grips with the loss of his wife, established a military career and established an even more fruitful academic career. While psychology ran somewhat parallel to anthropology, they were quite distinct. So it was not necessarily with a trained eye that the newly re-commissioned Lieutenant scanned the scene around him, but it was certainly with a trained mind.

 

While the clues of a society's inner workings might be readily apparent to an anthropologist, Sam had to work from the inside out, observing individuals' interactions and behaviors. In most circumstances, Sam tended to squint when looking at something far away. This is, of course, not necessary when one has ocular implants, however the ocular muscles are designed for such a thing, and social cues tend to make them habitual anyway. In this instance however, Arcadia's counselor let the tiny mechanisms do the work, trying to observe as many things in as short a time as possible, without appearing to look at anything in particular.

 

Aside from the non-human crew from Arcadia, a Mithraan, a Bajoran and a Trill, none of the humanoids in the densely packed trading area seemed to have traits that deviated from human physiology. Was that a more protruding brow? That hairline seems quite low. Blasted anthropology, this was getting him nowhere. In glancing back at the trading matters directly at hand, the locals did not seem phased at all by the non-humans among them. Currency…that could be it…the implants darted and focused on a transaction, then another, and a third.

 

Different currencies all. The purveyors of goods exchanged them as if it were the work of a child's math class…and the values didn't seem constant. Though who knows when comparing handfuls at a distance? That wasn't conclusive in itself, different colonies among the nebula…different currencies. But still all human? The eyes snapped to another booth. A man trying a piece of furniture. He looked quite uncomfortable…it took Sam a moment to realize it, but the chair was not meant for a human…it bent and curved in all the wrong places. The man's…wife? Who could tell, but she had a knowing look…Sam had seen it long before. I told you so.

 

Sam's view broadened out and he tried to achieve the mental blur necessary to see patterns in such an amalgam of activity. As he suspected, non arose. The art, food, goods, clothes…all distinct, unique. And not all looking…humanish, if such a thing could be defined. This was only the edge of this territory, Sam realized, would one find more or less variety when continuing further into this strange region.

 

One thing was for sure…a vast variety of peoples, whether divided by species or simply culture he could not tell, trafficked through this ever-peculiar nebula. It was enough variety for one to wonder if it could all be contained within. Sam had seen much larger nebulas with much less-varied cultures. Everyone here was abundantly comfortable with the variety, this was business as usual. The other places Sam had seen this were places where people from far apart crossed paths and there was nothing to be done about it, mostly hubs of transit to the many Federation worlds.

 

The culture of trading made sense…the technology didn't. Development seemed to have stopped at a very certain point, everything built up around the very singular properties of this nebula. Were it's residents completely unperturbed by anything outside the gaseous cloud, this could be fitting…but Sam was not yet ready to buy that story. The genetic picture showed a much longer history for these people than Ariom's story, or the scene around him seemed to paint.

 

Sam had visited places where a very alien culture seemed to make complete sense in its own way for its own sake. This was not one of them. A vendor in a stall was shouting at the group and he turned his attention to this.

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