Educated Guesswork

Posted on Thu Jul 13th, 2023 @ 8:18am by Commander Benjamin Jamesson & Lieutenant JG Calanthe 'Cal' Diaz

Mission: Sojurn
Location: Relea
Timeline: Day 337
4614 words - 9.2 OF Standard Post Measure

"I figured you'd still be here."

Here was a subjective term that, in general terms, simply meant the ship itself. Whilst several of the departments, her own included, had found more to do planetside to address current professional obligation than pulling long hours aboard Atlantis squandering opportunity, the Engineering crew had been very much welded into place as the expertise had come to them rather than the other way around. Calanthe had realised, and found herself entirely unsurprised, that confining Ben to the ship was barely much of a punishment; he wasn't prone to giving himself permission to leave very often anyway.

Which was why she'd taken it upon herself to come to him. Breakfast each of the four mornings, either whatever she'd been able to order to go or, on one occasion, something she'd attempted to make the replicators create for them. It had been an interesting start to the day, though her experimentation had at least produced a sequence that came close to a passable coffee substitute. She held two travel mugs of it now and wore a crooked grin of defeated affection for the fact that he'd utterly failed to avoid winding up elbows-deep in work despite being released from solitary confinement. She'd told him at breakfast that morning that she expected to see him for dinner; it had only been hours later that Cal realised she probably hadn't made it clear enough that she was entirely sincere in her demands.

Reaching out, she held out his coffee.

"I also figured, if I didn't come start prodding you now, you'd never been ready for dinner in time." She hitched an eyebrow at him. They had been trying, with patience and honesty and a healthy dose of respect for each other's boundaries, to make best of their mutual desire to forge a friendship on their own terms. It meant she had to stop trying to second-guess what he expected of her, and certainly stop worrying that she was somehow a disappointment that didn't measure up to the version he was grieving. It meant being brave, and that meant giving him the same amount of hell she reserved for all her friends. "You do know what the time is, right?"

Fixing an engine could be a challenging and complex process that required a combination of knowledge, skill, and patience which Benjamin had in abundance. Depending on the type of engine and the extent of the damage he also had time but staring at the communication relays that he was currently deep inside he was sure he had just run out as the communication chief was standing there holding out a coffee to him.

"Dinner?" He questioned confused as he moved to crouch to accept the coffee with both hands. "And no... about three I guess." He was not hungry so it could not be that late but you never know he had spent several days existing in a time warp doing what he wanted when he wanted.

"Try closer to 5pm. You've been free to move about for almost half a day and probably haven't moved more than a few feet, right?" Ducking in a way that was far less necessary for her than it was him, Cal negotiated her way closer and bent to look at what he was trying to do. "Something not behaving?"

“Communication relays around the ship.” He said sitting down properly on his bottom and took a sip of the offered coffee. It was perfect but he could not believe he had wasted the day and had not really done anything to really solve the issue. It was frustrating as something in that terminal kept blowing communications between engineering and science.

Cal winced, finding it somewhat unpleasantly ironic that it was her departmental requirements keeping him stuck on the same problem. Negotiating her way into a sitting position, she peered once again at what he'd been working on and gave him an apologetic grimace. "Well," she said after a moment to gather her ammunition, "you know what makes problem-solving way easier? Food." Though her expression remained animated with feigned seriousness, Cal's eyes twinkled with mischievous humour. "And stretching once in a while. How about," she proposed, "you leave the ship...I know, scandalous but hear me out. You leave the ship, come eat dinner with me, and then I'll come back and work on this for a while with you." Her features relaxed into a reassuring smile. She'd already explained a desire to know a little more about how the systems her department relied upon actually worked; spending time at work with him wasn't really a waste of an evening.

He started to argue but her theory and logic were not only sound but actually what he needed. He was aching in places that he did not know he was using at that moment but it was better than staying there even if the jobs needed doing whilst others were working on the engines to get them to work. "That would sound like the best of both worlds." He decided quietly wrapping his hands around the mug. "I could do with stretching. There is a knot in my back that is twinging." He admitted nodding.

A sympathetic grimace was partially Calanthe's attempt to ignore the impulse to knead her fist into the tension between his shoulders. Physical contact had been something she'd been very careful about, along with respecting a decent personal space. Every now and then, she caught him looking at her with more grief than anything else and it served as a reminder of what she represented. Falling into step beside him, she kept her own hands wrapped around her drink and blew away some of the steam that rose from it. "We don't have to go for anything fancy," she reassured. "I spent most of the day trying to document First Contact for the archives and my head is pounding." It was more the frazzled sensation of having focused for far too long on something intricate and complex. "Even now, I'm not sure whether I've left an accurate depiction or if humanity will be forever known around these parts as the people who attracted the attention of space penguins in the midst of chaos and ruin."

"It would not be the first time that we have attracted attention in chaos and ruin." He said with a shrug. "Any mark that is anything other than pain and nasty intentions is good in my older books." He smiled. "How about I close all this up, shower and find something that is not my uniform to wear and we can see if there is anything like an entertainment area and just get some fresh air?" He offered compromising on her plan a little.

The smile on her face suggested Cal probably wouldn't have refused if he'd offered to dress up in chainmail and wrestle one of the sea cows for her entertainment, though she would have argued that nobody would pass up that opportunity and not live to regret it. "Deal. I'm going to check in at the office here, I'll meet you outside in half hour?"

"Works. Thank you for this." He added as he started to put things back where they belonged and closed up the circuit. It was not hard to down tools even if he felt a bit guilty for his team maybe still working but the thought evaporated as he stepped into the shower and let the hot water wash over him. He was not dirty but it gave him the feeling of being clean very quickly. Within in 25 minutes, he was dry and waiting on the gangway in a pair of jeans, boots and a flannel shirt that felt warmer than anything else under his jacket.

Calanthe, despite being the instigator and most insistent interrupter of fixation, was predictably about three minutes late and moving at a speed that suggested she had jogged the last part whilst wrestling with her jacket. It was white, an impractical colour anywhere else except their current location, and the hood was lined with fur that framed her face perfectly once she tugged it into place. Like most things designed to protect, it seemed impossibly large on her and swallowed her somewhat but at least she no longer froze moving back and forth between the ship, the habitat and the archives.

"Sorry," she apologised breathlessly as her heels clanked against the gangway on her way down. "I got talking." This, in no universe, was any surprise at all.

Ben rolled his eyes at her and nodded. That was not at all surprising at all to him in the slightest. Of course, she got distracted talking, she was a communication officer. It was a personality trait for them. "Of course you did," He laughed resisting the urge to hold out a hand to her. He shoved his hands into the borrowed grey jacket and looked her over quickly. "Well, you will not be freezing any time soon."

"That is entirely the point," she declared, stuffing her hands into gloves and them shoving them immediately into her pockets as they moved beyond the docking yards into the open air. She loved the snow but she and the cold had a love-hate relationship when it came to feeling her extremities. A year living on the kind of food Atlantis had available had shaved off the few spare pounds she didn't have that might have acted as natural padding. "I think they've finally turned up the temperature controls in the habitat for us but no such luck in the archives. It's bearable, just, as long as I don't sit in one place for too long."

He could understand that. Not all species were made the same but the Releaians seemed to be more than gracious in trying to help them in any way possible. "Should wear some... long johns... I think that is what you call them. You know the thermal layer under your clothing." He said thoughtfully wanting to help her. The fresh air was biting but it was exactly what he needed to clear his head.

"I thought about it but at what point would it be considered taking advantage of their hospitality?" The Realians had been very gracious and generous so far, and certainly her work in the archives had earned Calanthe additional scope to replicate personal items, but with the potential to fabricate anything, she felt some obligation to think about their lives beyond this visit and what would the best use of resources moving forward. So far, besides from the jacket and the boots that had become necessary for navigating the snow, the only real thing she'd allowed herself to indulge in was fresh art supplies.

“I am sure replicated stuff like that does not actually require anyone more matter or require more energy than what is already put into it. It’s recycle more than anything. Why a lot of the items are freely available.” He had not used it much himself other than for engineering tools as his Realian counterpart had said was needed to fix some of the items that he had said was needed.

"See, that seems insane to me!" The expressive passion of the Communication Chief's tone forgot its company for a moment, forgot her attempts to be more measured and patient and gentle around him, and fell into the trap of being Calanthe. It involved a lot of talking with her hands. "How can you have everything you want fabricated out of thin air without some sort of expenditure somewhere down the line. At what point does everything turn back into a pumpkin?" The vague fairytale reference was a little out of place, given that the cold had already rendered her cheeks a flushed pink to match the tip of her nose and, whilst her jacket was almost to her knees and could have passed as a dress, her boots weren't made of glass and, beneath her hood, her hair was hardly fit for a quick dinner let alone a fancy ball. If this was a fairytale then Calanthe had missed the memo about suitable attire.

“They have a completely different approach to life and they are years more advanced than anything we can imagine.” He said simply it was intriguing to him but he also could see the magic it seemed. “So anywhere special or just the first place we see?” He asked moving to put her under one of the covers that ran along the streets better.

Cal didn't argue at the gallantry, possibly because it happened so naturally that she didn't really catch it. Instead, she was studying the options across the road, with an occasional glance at what was coming up ahead on their side. "I never thought I'd say this, but I may have had enough seafood to last me for at least a few days. I keep smelling a grill in action when I walk back to the habitat at night, it can't be too far away."

The man sniffed the air but smelled nothing out of the ordinary. “Any idea which direction?” He wondered quietly looking around for a sign of where the grill could be.

There was a reason, Lexi joked, that Cal was not in charge of navigational matters. Her sense of direction was not always the most reliable, which might easily have been traced back to a lifetime of being too short to see any useful distance ahead. One of the more pleasant things about Realian physiology was their tendency to be, on average, not that much taller than she was. It made crowds of them far less problematic to steer through.

She turned and walked backwards for a second, trying to get her bearings. "If we head towards the Great Library, that's the best guess I have." Glancing both ways, Cal stepped out from beneath the shelter of the shop awnings and crossed the street, making a beeline towards one of the cut-through arcades that would bring them out on the other side closer to their mark.

Benjamin nodded. That seemed like a logical route and he could see the great library in the distant so quickly followed his boots bounding on the pavement. It was not exactly easy squeezing past cut through but he followed. They were very much designed for Realian's and not a man who was 6'5 and built solid. It was why sometimes he wondered why he had become an engineer but all those thoughts disappeared as he heard strange clinging down one of the arcades.

Calanthe, who was far more accustomed of late to being surrounded by unfamiliar sounds, didn't notice it at first. Her gaze was locked on what she could see of the skyline, which was barely anything, in an attempt to get her bearings. "I think if we veer left, we might hit it."

The engineer nodded but stopped when heard the clicking sound again. It was like dolphins but deeper. For a man who grew up in the highlands of Scotland it was disconcerting. “That’s sounds like Releaian. Not been able to work out the clicks but it sounds like it.” It was more aggressive than he had heard any of them sounds but it was close.

An initial glance was cast in Ben's direction, surprised and then immediately attentive. Calanthe's next focus of attention was on their surroundings, which she slowed to a stop to properly consider whilst she turned her partially-trained ear towards the sound he was referencing. A frown creased her forehead. "That is Realian," she confirmed, having just spent a considerable amount of time trying to learn at least some basic phrases. Turning on the spot, she sought out the direction it was coming from. "It sounds distressed."

“Yeah…” Benjamin looked around trying to work out where it was coming from for a long moment before he started running down one of the walkways trying to work out where the distressed sounding Realian was.

"Ben, wait!"

It wasn't a protest at getting involved so much as a plea to remember that he moved a lot faster than she did, at least when it was slippery and she was wearing decent heels. Breaking into a run that attempted to keep up, Cal doubled-back and then paused for a moment to listen, frowning at the way the sound bounced off the walls. It was part of the echoic aspect of the Realian dialect, a sound quality that she'd been struggling to replicate all week because her vocal chords just weren't built for it.

"This way!"

It was her turn to veer off, headed towards one of the underground ramps that created shortcuts under the street itself. They were used predominantly by the locals for moving produce around efficiently, Cal had learned.

Ben turned around at the call and turned to follow, nearly hittting his head as he ducked underground. He would never had thought of it being from down there. He stopped to get a sense of direction properly. “Stay back.” Benjamin said grabbing her hand to put himself in front.

It was gallantry Calanthe didn't necessarily feel inclined to protest, if only because it was a lot darker down there than seemed necessary. That didn't seem right. "There should be more lighting than this," she attempted to whisper, which by Cal's standards meant that it carried at least a few metres further than intended. "Maybe someone's hurt themselves in the dark."

“Hello?” Benjamin said into the darkness and abruptly stopped as he saw three people down the dim alleyway. He could see two people standing over a Realian who was on the floor. Benjamin started down the alleyway and watching as the two people turned to see the pair of humans stood there watching.

"Is something the matter?," Calanthe called out, the least cautious of the pair. "Do we need to get them some help?" Without having a distinct reason for why, the brunette hesitated as the standing pair turned towards them, suddenly in no rush to push past Ben's reassuring bulk though a hand against his back suggested he think again before getting too much closer. It took a lot to override Calanthe's impulsiveness but even a lack of familiarity with the pushed-in features of the glaring aliens couldn't account for the menace that suddenly filled the air.

“You off-worlders do not belong here.” One of the figures commented as he started to move towards them. Benjamin did not flinch or move away.

“I do not think you belong here either.” The engineer commented back looking past the figure to where his partner was still leaning over the Realian who was silent now.

The hand against his back curled into the fabric of his jacket.

"We only came to see if someone needed help," Calanthe reasoned, wondering if even a pair of them would be stupid enough to take on someone of Ben's stature. "Everything down here is quite audible up on street level," she added, as much as a warning as an explanation.

“I am not leaving someone down here alone with them.” Ben said simply as the man snorted and glanced back before moving forward still. He did not like the interruptions especially from someone who was pink and far to fleshy.

“Listen to your girl, fleshy.” It growled as it threw a punch that Ben moved away from and moved Calanthe back from as the companion started coming close as he saw that a punch had been thrown.

Calanthe had to step fast to keep up with Ben's insistence, though there was something about the sluggish way the alien lunged that made her realise, despite everything, that there was an air of familiarity to its companion's stagger. "They're drunk," she declared, shaking her head and moving once again, with Ben as shield, to get out of the way of an uncoordinated shove. "I don't think starting a fight is necessary," she added one last time for good measure, though she very much doubted now that reason was going to work. "You'll bring half the street down here wondering what you're doing. Why don't you just leave, we'll make sure this local gets the help they need." It was a diplomatic way of giving them an escape without losing face, even though Cal very much doubted now that they had been trying to help the Realian in any way.

“And you think I care about what these foolish sea food think?” He snorted making his face even more contorted as he swung again and this time connected with his jaw sending him back a little.

“I tried.” Ben said, not sure if it was to Calanthe or them but he launched himself back at the being and knocked him down, surprising the man with the force of the tackle.

Left exposed by the engineer's intervention, Calanthe stood for a moment, frozen in indecision. Since when has Ben been a brawler? Admittedly, being punched by Nate hadn't lead to retaliation, and this was clearly some sort of very suspect transaction that had the Realian cowering and terrified, but she wasn't sure that would matter much if this wound up on Gerhard's desk again. Deciding the best course was the remove the source of contention as swiftly as possible, the brunette attempted to round the grappling pair to reach the scared local, stopping only as a hand grabbed her around the arm.

The stench of the creature's breath as the alien's companion dragged her in close to sneer at eradicated Calanthe's appetite for dinner immediately.

"Nice try, little worm. All pink and wriggly, just crawled out of a dung-heap I bet." He yanked harder when she attempted to dig her heels in. "I'll just throw you into the harbour with this snivelling pota'ah to feed the fish."

"I'd honestly rather you didn't," Calanthe retorted and, instantly her mother's daughter, aimed a knee at what she hoped was a universally-predictable location for genitalia.

“You have… ooof.” He groaned instantly regretting following with him friends idea of attacking the lone fish walker.

Benjamin slammed his fist into his assailant just in time for back up to arrive in six Realian’s dressed in body armour. “Stop!” They yelled pulling everyone apart and saw the form on the floor.

Cal, who hadn't wasted any time moving away once her knee had hit its mark, was already crouched beside the terrified Realian when the predictable response team arrived. "Hey," she soothed quietly, not trusting her rusty attempts at glottal enunciation to risk a formal greeting under the circumstances. "It's okay, you're okay now." This close, she realised it was likely a young male, probably still considered a teenager by Realian standards, and that he was cradling his arm. "We'll make sure you get help." Craning her head around, the brunette called through the confusion, "I think they broke his arm." It was an intentional phrasing, an attempt to paint the correct picture of events before anyone else tried to twist things.

“They?” The Realian who had grabbed Ben back said glancing between the two groups and then the Realian who was not moving away from the woman’s touch or words.

“They attacked him.” Ben said as he was let go to wipe at the blood around his mouth. “We stepped in to save him.”

"They attacked all of us," Cal corrected, a fiercely unapologetic gaze shot towards the alien still curled into a ball on the ground before she returned her attention to the injured local. "Are you able to walk?" She waited whilst the young juvenile considered his options and smiled as he nodded quickly, just once. Rising herself, she offered him her arm. "What's the best way to get him medical attention?," she asked the security personnel, using on them much the same tone she turned on Gerhard once in a while when he was being too Starfleety.

The Realian did not flinch at the tone and just started to speak to the teenager in Realian to gather what had happened from him. Benjamin winced at the pain in his head and leant back against the wall waiting for the truth to come out. “I will get everyone support here.” He finally said in a language that the translator picked up to translate.

With the teenager tended to by his own, Cal cast her gaze back and forth between the two alien faces, finding herself no more adept at reading their expressions than when she'd first started to immerse herself in the attempt, and edged her way around to focus on Ben. A hand reached up to touch the decent-sized egg forming just above his eyebrow. Her expression radiated concern but her immediate response tried to minimise fuss. "You just won't stop putting your head in the path of oncoming fists, will you?"

“Nope. But I think this time I might need some medical attention.” He admitted slowly blinking a little as he leant more against the wall. For him to admit he might need help was unusual but his head was pounding.

A gentle, cold hand rested very gently against the swollen contusion. "I'll make sure you get it." Turning, she cast her gaze quickly around the group and spoke to the nearest security officer, currently in the throes of placing restraints on one of the assailants. "My friend needs a doctor, I'm not sure I'll be able to move him on my own. Is there some way to help get him back to our ship? Or treat his head wound here? It was quite a vicious attack," she added for good measure, having caught sight of the broken mess Ben had made of the alien's nose.

Ben said nothing as he slid down the wall to sit in the floor and sighed to himself as he held his head. The security officer looked at Calanthe and then Benjamin and nodded.

“We can get you back to your ship. None of our doctors are trained in your species emergency care yet.” He said quietly.

"Thank you," Calanthe replied with genuine relief and then, remembering her recent efforts, made a rudimentary effort to repeat the gratitude in formal Realian. The human vocal chamber wasn't capable of all of the noises but a close approximation had, thus far, been met with approval. She turned rather than squirm under the scrutiny of surprise and crouched to take Ben by the arm. "Oh no, you, no getting too comfortable." Again, cold fingers touched his face, settled against his cheek as a motivation to keep his eyes open. "We'll get you back and see if we can locate your friend, Hughes. He might be a bit more sympathetic and less inclined to snitch on us to Will right away."

“Yeah… he is my friend.” The man commented as her cool hands touched his cheek and his eyes opened properly. “Yeah Gerhard and Leroux are not going to be happy.” He sighed thinking he was going to end up being a cleaner by the end of this shore leave and attempt to fix the ship.

"This is way different to last time," the brunette declared, glancing up as one of the Realians appeared on Ben's other side to help her get him up. Watching him sway back and forth for a moment, she reached out to squeeze his hand and added with absolute confidence. "You've got me this time."