Familiar Paths

Posted on 19 Jan 2024 @ 6:01pm by Lieutenant Commander Temerant Bast

924 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Shoreleave
Location: Deep Space Nine

Deep Space Nine.

Lieutenant Commander Bast stood on the second level of the Promenade, leaning over the railing, watching the crowd walk by. The space station was Starfleet's primary foothold in the sector, but it was definitely showing its age. Despite the Starfleet Corps of Engineers' best efforts, the integration of Federation technology in the old Cardassian construction was beginning to tear apart at the seams. The docking mechanisms were sluggish, and the power distribution systems were struggling to keep up with modern demands. Living quarters, initially designed for Cardassian physiognomy, had been adapted as best they could to the broad variety of Federation citizens, but the flaws were starting to show. The station, now approaching sixty years of use, should be due for a replacement soon, thought Bast.

But then, rumors of a replacement had been circulating for over a decade, only to be pushed back a few years because of shifting priorities at Starfleet Command.

This had been Bast's home for about a year, a lifetime ago, as Wilem Bast had been one of the scientists assigned to develop countermeasures to the Dominion's weaponry during the war. The hallways and corridors felt familiar, yet oddly foreign at the same time, since Temerant hadn't spent that much time on this station.

The contradiction of events such as navigating these corridors, things which felt both foreign and familiar, had made him feel dizzy, at first. But now, after being Joined for nearly a year, he'd gotten used to the sensation, and even took pleasure at rediscovering some things, and seeing them in a new light. Of course, seeing things in a new light didn't apply to these corridors, which were still incredibly dark, and had never been adapted to Federation standard illumination levels. Some of the corridors in the Habitat ring were darker than even the Caves of Mak'ala.

He took one of the walkways leading clockwise around the Promenade, and along a side corridor that led to a small Trill restaurant that Wilem had been fond of. Nothing like Temerant's sister Auri's cooking - she'd been awarded three Bolian stars in last year's Best Restaurants in the Alpha Quadrant guide. But a taste of home would be welcome after the harrowing mission at Antioch.

The kiosk had been right next door to a Bajoran merchant's shop. A middle-aged widower, with two children, a boy of twelve or so, and a younger girl half her brother's size but with three times the mouth. Wilem had been fond of them during his time here, as the girl reminded him of his own daughter.

Temerant navigated the crowds, and eventually found himself facing the front of the Bajoran tinker's shop. The man himself was nowhere to be seen, but a rather striking Bajoran woman was there. She had short, curly red hair, striking green eyes, and her ceremonial Bajoran earring was showing signs of age. She was wearing a simple dress that enhanced her shapes but a bit frayed at the wrists from tinkering with the items for sale or repair.

Temerant walked past the shop over to the next stall -

And found an Andorian tailor's shop where the Trill restaurant used to be.

He walked back to the tinker's shop, and approached the woman.

"Hello there," he said. "There used to be a Trill restaurant here. Do you have any idea if it just relocated elsewhere on the station?"

She looked up at him, her emerald eyes boring into him with an intensity that he suddenly knew were matched by the mouth on her.

"You must be Kayla," he said with a smile.

"What's it to you?" she asked defiantly. "How do you know my name?"

"I knew you when you were this tall," he said, extending a hand somewhere around waist level. "I did a bit of business with your father."

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, taking in the sight of a Starfleet officer barely older than she was, talking about business dealings with her father when she had been but a child.

"Back then I went by the name Wilem Bast," he clarified.

She paused her movements of straightening the merchandise on display, and looked at him with disbelief in her eyes. "Wilem," she repeated. "The older man who used to bring me..."

"Koralan-spiced caramel? I remember how you used to love these. Wilem passed away last year. I'm Temerant Bast, I in herited the Bast symbiont, along with all of Wilem's memories."

"Sorry to hear that," she replied. "Wilem was a good man, my father spoke of him every one in a while."

"How is your father?"

"He retired back to Bajor five years ago, moved in with my brother and his family. Left me the shop."

"I'm sure the shop keeps you very busy," said Temerant, "I'll let you get back to business."

"Business is mine to keep," she replied with a crooked smile, looking at Temerant from head to toe. "Don't expect a customer for another couple of hours. Come on in the back - I've got a few Koralan caramels of my own," she said, putting a sign on the table that said "Back in 15 minutes".

- - - - - - - -

An hour later, Temerant strolled the Promenade with a smile on his face, adjusting his uniform and whistling a cheerful tune here remembered from Lamora's repertoire, and took his leisurely time returning to the Cygnus.

- - - - - - - - -

A post by

Lieutenant Commander Temerant Bast
Executive Officer
USS Cygnus

 

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