Mementos

Posted on Sat Aug 31st, 2024 @ 12:17am by Lieutenant Commander Leothon Rook

702 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: Episode 1.01 - "Ad Astra"
Location: Rook's Quarters, Deck 8, USS Carina
Timeline: MD 03, 1300

Leo's new quarters on Deck Eight faced almost directly port, the same direction he remembered from the old ones. Like most of Carina so far, there were subtle differences from Galaxy. The most notable, of course, was that the family quarters there had been on Deck Eleven, where the windows sloped up and outward. On reflection it was a good reminder that this wasn't his old home, although it's a shame he can't sit on the windows while reading anymore.

His carefully labeled boxes of belongings were waiting for him when he arrived, which was a pleasing difference from the cluster that was his previous change of posting. That time everything that he wasn't carrying in his duffle had ended up at the Academy's Mare Island Annex of Comparative Philosophy in Vallejo, California. There wasn't a lot of stuff that followed him around, and anything truly irreplaceable had been shipped home and a replicated copy kept, but what he did have was important. Once he was sure it was all there, he turned toward unpacking and displaying it all

Much of what he had were small keepsakes from various missions over the year. Leo had made a point since joining Starfleet of trying to get something from every planet he visited, sometimes meaningful and sometimes just a cute trinket or bauble snatched from the gift shop of a spaceport or tourist trap. Mostly they were from Vallejo, with its constant string of second-contact and logistical support missions, as the Yoko had spent most of its time in space. By far the largest use of space was for printed books, filling shelves that covered most of the inboard wall of the compartment. Then there were many tchotchkes, mostly little figurines of local animals, all lined up in a row by date. A few larger gifts were interspersed, and by the replicator he hung all his Starfleet awards and some family photos.

Mixed among these items were a few really risque ones. A row of old books, a framed copy of a Federation accession treaty, a Zee Magnes prize from the turn of the century: nothing especially flashy, save for a carved fire opal sculpture of a phoenix in one corner. They were all things Leo hadn't collected himself, but had inherited from past hosts. Most Trill found that sort of thing to be morbid or gauche at best, and a possible sign of moral degeneracy and reassociation at worst. Rook's hosts had made it something of a tradition, though, partly for sentiment and partly for spite.

It had started as a quite small request: take care of a specific potted miniature berry bush, something that horticulturist Corian Rook had helped breed to better survive on Trill's first off-world colony. Iolanthe had thought nothing of finding a shelf for it, right up until some sneering remarks about needing to let go of the material trappings of the previous host. Several decades of dogged attention had seen the plant and its sprouts thrive, along with the writing of quite a few scathing poems, short stories, and articles about the importance of cherished memories. Kaduin had been a bit more circumspect, as befitting a diplomat and politician, but still kept complete first editions of all Iolanthe's writings and a descendant of the bush in his study. Clarinia had possessed little concern for public opinion or anything else that wasn't exotic physics but kept up the tradition. Tairte had spent half her time away from Trill and touring her exhibits around the Federation, and a little heterodoxy had never hurt an artist's reputation.

If Leothon Rook were a reasonable person, he would have stuck it all in a closet somewhere. He was already under enough scrutiny by conservative Trill busybodies given his politically suspect degree and off-Trill origins. He did not get to where he was today by being an entirely reasonable person.

Once all the physical objects were in place, Leo turned his attention to the replicator and hefted a case of isolinear chips.

"Okay, computer. Initiate admin access to the replicator database. We are not going on a deep-space mission with only whatever dreck Starfleet has shoved in this year's default menu."

OFF:

 

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