Kathryn Janeway
Arriving by transport on the planet Volan III
Volan System, within the Demilitarized Zone
"Well, I don't know. I think Gallist had a point about negative space. Take social interaction for instance: Isn't it just as important what we say as what we don't say?" Kathryn asked as she got up and opened the compartment under her seat to get at the luggage she'd stowed there.
"And I'd say there's certainly truth in that, I just think he takes it a bit too far - gives it too much emphasis, if you know what I mean. After all, you can't actually judge anything by what's not there alone, while you can judge it by what is there. Take your example for instance. If someone simply says nothing, assuming auditory communication only, what do you have to go on? You can make a blind guess based on whatever relevant past experiences you may have available to you, but that's really about it, isn't it? Now, on the other hand, if someone says, for instance, 'I wish the weather were nicer today' - even with something as trivial as that, you could draw far more of substance from that than you could with simply silence, couldn't you? True, it's all still largely guesswork and supposition, but it's like the difference between having to survey one solar system looking for a particular element as opposed to an entire space sector." Chell replied.
His father had been the captain of a survey vessel, that Kathryn knew from earlier in their conversation. She laughed amiably. "When you're right, you're right. I concede the point." She swung her pack around behind her and fastened it around her waist.
"Why thank you, Kathryn. And may I say, it's been a pleasure talking with you." Chell replied with a thoroughly genuine smile.
She smiled to him and nodded. "Likewise." She said as she turned to exit with the other passengers, leaving Chell to retrieve his own luggage.
She'd never yet met a Bolian who didn't love to talk, and the one she'd been seated next to for the last five hours had been no exception. The latest topic had been spatial harmonics, as it applied to interior design. Now, she'd be the first to tell you that she had a pretty good handle on the principles of spatial harmonics - she'd even read a paper by Gallist, a Bolian artist who's field of expertise could most closely be compared to the art of feng shui in Taren culture. The article had been published in the Farringdon, a preeminent journal in the field of spatial physics that she'd subscribed to during her academy years. As far as what made a room look good though? She'd honestly never really given it all that much thought until now. Even when she'd been reading Gallist's paper, she could only truthfully remember thinking about it in terms of scientific theory rather than what those theories had actually originally been meant to be applied to. Head in the clouds, her mother would have said. She would have said she had aspirations of going a bit farther out than that. A trip to the Vasray nebula, preferably aboard a fully equipped science vessel, for instance, still ranked fairly high on her to-do list in life.
Nevertheless, she'd found she'd actually been grateful for the distraction Chell had so ably provided her for the last leg of her journey. She was still less than sanguine on the merits of what she was about to do. She could fool herself into thinking it might go some other way, but, as much as she gave herself credit for being a very convincing person when she wanted to be, she knew Phoebe enough to know that she was probably on a fool's errand.
The fact was, nonetheless, the idea of her sister out here in the middle of all of this had been making her sick to her guts for months now. She'd tried talking to her over subspace, tried to bury herself in her work, tried to justify not coming here every way she possibly could, but it had been no use. None at all. Her gut still felt twisted up inside every night as she'd gone to bed. This was family. Her little sister. She'd close her eyes and see Phoebe smiling to her and offering her an apple or a flower, an ear to listen or a shoulder to cry on. She was that kind of person - generous to a fault, always seeing what was beautiful in the world... No, this was the only thing she could do, and she damn well knew it. On some level, Phoebe had to know it too, that's what was so frustrating in all of this.
Debarkation was a mildly slow affair, but she found herself among the first to set foot on the ground of Volan III's space port, many of the other passengers having more luggage than she'd brought with her to retrieve. She stood there a moment looking off at Mount Anwyn in the distance, people milling all around her. There wouldn't be anyone here to meet her, she'd hadn't told Phoebe she was coming - she knew that, if she had, her sister would easily guess why, and it would have only served to give her time to dig her heels in, and that was the last thing she needed.
As a way cleared for her, Kathryn decided that the time for musing over such things was over, so she set her path and started walking with many of the other passengers towards the railcar that would take her down to Tinsley, the city in the valley below. Phoebe lived on a farm somewhere out into the wilderness around the city, she didn't know where.
Considering her options, she decided she'd just have to find someone who knew of her sister's whereabouts and make a friend.
With the Maquis presence in the area so thick though, she knew she had to be careful about all of this. She was a Star Fleet command officer on leave after all, and it was anyone's guess how that might play with the locals, given the current state of affairs.
Inside the railcar, she found a seat, took off her pack, and sat down by the window, leaning her pack against the car's wall under the window on the floor. No one sat down next to her before the railcar started moving, so she was left alone with her thoughts this time and found herself going over again just what she thought she might say to her sister when she found her... and just what she'd do if or when Phoebe didn't want to listen.
The time passed quickly on the short ride down to Tinsley and she soon found herself strapping on her pack and debarking again, this time onto a raised platform with stairs that led down to street level. She followed the flow of people down and, once at street level, looked around and tried to find a likely place to start her search.
She spotted a local cafe and decided it wouldn't be a bad idea to get something to eat while she looked for that new friend she hoped to find who'd help her locate her wayward sister.
She walked over, walked in, looked around, and went over towards the bar. There were about fifteen or twenty patrons, and several of them took notice of her. A few looked suspicious of her, but none looked hostile. The man behind the counter came over, offered her a greeting, which she returned, then she asked for a coffee. She hadn't decided what she wanted to eat yet. She turned around and looked out the window thoughtfully. A woman came over to her then.
"Hi there. New in town?" She asked in friendly fashion.
Kathryn turned and met her eyes. "That's me alright." She smiled to her, offering her hand. "Kathryn Janeway, pleased to meet you." She greeted, shaking hands with the woman.
A little of a bemused expression came over the woman's face. "Mariah Hanley, and likewise."
"I take it you're a native?" Kathryn asked as the handshake ended.
"Got that right." Mariah replied positively. "Care to join me for lunch? I'm good company?"
"I'd love to, thank you for offering." Kathryn agreed easily. Maybe finding that friend she'd been looking for was going to be easier than she'd thought? A bit of good luck, she always thought, never hurt anyone.
They went to sit down at one of the tables, Kathryn taking off her pack and sitting it on the seat next to her.
"So, what brings you way out to the boonies at a time like this, Kathryn Janeway?" Mariah asked right of.
Kathryn was surprised into a little of a laugh. "Don't beat around the bush, do you?"
Mariah smiled. "You wouldn't be the first to accuse me of being blunt occasionally, that's certainly true. So? You going to fess up?"
Kathryn shook her head a little and looked over and up as a waiter came over and offered her her coffee. "Thanks." She took it gratefully.
"Can I get you anything else?" The woman asked helpfully.
Kathryn thought a moment. "How about a bowl of the Kymanti stew, biscuits, and... maybe a small salad?" She asked.
The woman smiled. "Can do." She replied, turning to go report the order.
"They prepare everything by hand?" Kathryn asked Mariah.
"They do." Mariah replied.
"It's become something of a trend lately, hadn't it?" Kathryn mused.
"You don't approve?" Mariah asked.
"I never said that. I think it's a nice change of pace, in fact." She countered.
"A woman of adventure then. Good for you." Mariah approved.
"I try. Now, you'd asked me a question before... what was it again?" Kathryn ventured.
"I was wondering if you remembered." Mariah smiled, apparently enjoying herself now. "I asked what brought you here."
"Short answer? My sister." Kathryn replied, taking a sip of her coffee and thoroughly enjoying doing it.
"I have one of those. They can be a handfull." Mariah answered.
"They can at that." Kathryn replied. "But I love her dearly, all the same."
"What's her name?" Mariah asked.
"Phoebe. Her wife's name is Lauren, Lauren Jor." Kathryn volunteered.
"Hmm, they're homesteaders, right? From the farmlands further out?" Mariah ventured.
"That's them. Have you met?" Kathryn asked hopefully as her food came. Mariah already had a meal she'd been in the middle of, from the look of things.
"Only in passing a few times." Mariah ventured.
"So... you aren't in the Maquis with her then?" Kathryn asked plainly.
Mariah's eyes widened, then she smiled. "I guess I deserved that, didn't I?"
"Maybe just a little." Kathryn replied.
Mariah shook her head. "No, I'm not one... but your sister is?" Mariah asked.
"I'm afraid so." She admitted.
"And, am I to take it you don't approve?" Mariah asked carefully.
to be continued
and I'm always happy to get comments (even really short ones)