WARNING. It’s … a slight bit longer than the usual log and…
of monumental insignificance, so no worries if you skip it, eh-heh.
The turbolift’s humming came to a stop as it arrived at its destination. Katriel stepped through the opening doors onto the promenade level, and headed wearily for the Cantina. Her hands were empty as she had vowed it would be a short stop, no extended reading session, just a warm decaffeinated tea and then straight to bed, something she hadn’t seen in a little while thanks to the arrival of twenty five hundred refugees on station.
The assorted individuals and scattered families of Starbase 234 and New Romulus had been situated in various cargo bays and replimats across several decks and Katriel had done a great deal of overtime in sorting through the injured and assisting in getting people comfortable, quiet and calm. In all likelihood, it would be a while before any of them would leave, as officials would likely need the time to draw up proposals on how to redistribute all the Federation personnel or to determine the suitability and safety of a return to New Romulus in the case of the Romulan citizens. In the meantime, however, most of them seemed to be getting along well enough on DS13, considering what they had experienced and how strapped they were for space.
Her absent reverie was shattered just as she arrived at the bottom of the Cantina’s ramp and the sound of a girl’s quiet crying filled her senses. The Betazoid quickened her pace just a fraction and as she came over the rise, Swifty caught sight of her and gave off an explosively relieved sigh, exclaiming about ‘thanking the Blessed Exchequer that she was here’ and promising free tea for a month if the counselor would kindly take this ‘noisy brat’ off his hands. Said counselor pursed her lips as she stared down at the not-really-all-that-noisy human girl standing next to the agitated Ferengi. The child’s cheeks were wet with tear streaks as she stared timidly back at the newcomer with measured distress.
The counselor softened her expression and drew forward, bending down so that she was eye level with the girl. “Hey there,” she greeted softly, keeping her tone as kind as possible.
The girl sniffed once, hiccuping back another sob. “Hello.”
Katriel smiled just a little in encouragement. “Are you lost?” She glanced around the lounge, deserted by all but the cranky Ferengi at this hour. “How did you get here all by yourself?”
“Oh, please don’t be mad,” the girl’s tone turned to a plea. “We … we were playing hide and seek and I … I came a little further to hide up here and I waited and waited but no one came to find me and then when I looked, everyone was gone!”
Katriel’s glance turned up towards Swifty, who was still standing by disapprovingly. “She’s from the refugee freighter, I assume?”
Swifty confirmed and added that a group of children had been escorted through the promenade earlier in the day, in an attempt to distract them from the events of the previous days. The enlisted officer assigned to watching over the herd obviously hadn’t done a very good job, in losing one of his charges. Katriel’s eyes fell back on the child.
“I’m not angry, don’t worry. How about I find out who’s supposed to be watching you, and I’ll stay with you until they arrive? You can have a drink while we wait?” Katriel suggested. Her lips pulled into a smile as the girl tentatively nodded her assent.
“Okay,” was the whispered response. “Can I have hot chocolate?”
“You heard her, Swift. I’ll take one too, actually.”
The Ferengi grumbled as he shuffled back behind the counter to fill the order while Katriel pinged her badge to access fleet comms. Sure enough, the little girl had only just been discovered missing, and a panicked officer responded that someone would be up promptly to retrieve her. In the meantime, their hot cocoas arrived and Katriel corralled the girl to the back of the lounge area to wait, so that they’d be out of Swifty’s proverbial hair. The two of them sat on the red-cushioned window seat and Katriel opened her mouth to ask the girl’s name when –
“How come there’s no great bear in the sky?”
The counselor’s mouth shut abruptly as she puzzled over the question. “There’s no what?”
The young girl pointed upward at the glass dome that made up the promenade’s ceiling. “The great bear,” she whimpered in response. “I was looking for him, he’s always there in the stars when I look at home. But I can’t find him here.”
Katriel looked upwards in sudden understanding, her stomach sinking a little. A constellation. Somewhere in the sea of stars above Starbase 234, there must have been a pattern of stars that had been transfigured by imagination into that of a mighty bear. But now, light years away from that area of space, the configuration of stars would look completely different. A bit tragic, really, that such an art would be lost, thanks to the advancement of sentients into space.
“My mommy said that the great bear would always watch over me and keep me safe. But how can he keep me safe if he can’t see me?” The girl’s tone had turned distressed and those wide blue eyes were starting to look a little watery again.
The counselor searched the skies above them, her mind racing for a solution. These types of tales were far from alien to her, though Betazoid children were seldom told such fictions. What was the point when they could empathically divine the lack of truth in them? But Katriel couldn’t find it in herself to dispel the myth and magic for this one.
“Well… the great bear… he…” she mentally scrambled to find an answer. “He’s still protecting you because… he… asked Argo to.”
Katriel’s response was a surprise to both of them. The girl’s searching gaze lowered to stare at the Betazoid in startlement. “What is Argo?”
“Argo is…” Not the reality. “… a ship. A great boat, the kind that sails the seas.” Katriel paused for an extended moment. Argo’s namesake was genuinely a sea-faring vessel, this much Katriel knew. But the original mythology of Argo was not exactly a suitable tale for a child. Katriel turned her smiling gaze on the girl, her mind suffused with inspiration. “Have you never heard the story of Argo?”
The girl’s eyes were wide as she shook her head, her hot cocoa almost completely forgotten.
“Well, first … what’s your name?” Katriel asked.
The human child blinked. “Josetta,” she shyly responded.
“Josetta,” Katriel repeated. “What a remarkable coincidence, because that’s the name of the main character in the story of Argo.”
“Really??” Josetta was just old enough to question said ‘coincidence’, Katriel supposed.
“Really,” the Betazoid confirmed anyway and smiled when Josetta’s reaction indicated she was still young enough to be carried away by the marvel of it. Katriel sat back a little in her seat, her hands clasped around her warm mug of cocoa, and settled into The Patient Storyteller’s voice.
“Now Josetta, she lived in the kingdom of … Aldebaran, which was a great and very prosperous one. But one day, a great and enormous … creature of shadow came and stole the sacred treasure of Aldebaran.”
Katriel brought one hand up to gesture at the sun. "It was called the great Golden Pearl of Aldebaran and was key to keeping the kingdom safe. Without it, Aldebaran would be helpless to invaders, so the king of Aldebaran knew it had to be retrieved. As the king had a mighty navy of ships, he sent a ship full of his sailors to sail after the shadow creature.
“But the shadow creature was too powerful and simply smashed the ship as it approached. Aldebaran needed the Pearl, so the king was forced to send another ship and another after that. Some made it farther than others, but none of them succeeded in retrieving the Pearl.”
“How many ships did the king send?” Josetta’s eyes were wide with sorrow for the lost fictional sailors.
“Umm… twenty… no, thirty… seven. Thirty-seven ships.” Katriel paused as she thought over that impromptu decision, then nodded as she fitted the final pieces together.
"Now Josetta’s brother was in the king’s navy and he was a sailor on the thirty-ninth ship. Josetta was afraid because she knew that if her brother’s ship set sail to battle the creature, it was possible that he would be killed. She was determined not to let that happen, so when the thirty-eighth ship was about to depart, Josetta disguised herself as a sailor and snuck aboard.
“That thirty-eighth ship was the Argo,” Katriel added. “And it was the swiftest ship yet, with the bravest crew. When Argo came upon the shadow creature, it brought one of its arms down to smash the ship like it had done all the others, but the Argo was too quick and came out unscathed from the blow.”
“But how did they beat the shadow? They can’t just outrun it, they have to get the Pearl back!” Josetta exclaimed.
At least she’s invested, Katriel mused. “Well, with Argo on the other side of the shadow creature, they were able to see the Pearl in its other arm, kept in a huge black sack that prevent its light from coming through. It was Josetta who gave the sailors the idea to cut the sack open, so the Argo sailed swiftly for the sack, dodging every time the shadow creature tried to smash them. The crew drew their swords and sliced the bottom of the bag open, and the bright Pearl of Aldebaran fell out onto the Argo’s deck.”
Katriel pointed towards the sun again. “And do you know what happens when a great big light shines on a shadow?”
Josetta did know. “It goes away!”
“And so the great shadow creature was defeated and Josetta and the Argo returned to the king with the Pearl,” Katriel concluded the story with no mild amount of satisfaction. “As a reward, the king declared that the Argo and all its sailors would forever be the guardians of Aldebaran and so they have sailed the sea of stars ever since, protecting everyone who comes their way. Including you, Josetta.”
The human girl was in awe. Frankly the Betazoid was just as impressed with herself. It must be the sleep deprivation. Josetta’s gaze rose to the stars again, her eyes squinting at the dots up above. “But where is it?”
Katriel was prepared for this, too. In the telling of the story, she had simultaneously searched for a pattern of stars that she could conceivably pass off as a ship. Sure, no one else would know or ascribe the same meaning to said clump of stars. But what did that matter? She leaned in towards Josetta and reached an arm up towards the glass dome. “There. Do you see those brighter stars, there? They form the body of the ship and there is the sail.”
“Oh, I see it, I see it! Wow, the Argo!”
“Josetta!”
The two stargazers looked towards the new voice, an adult human male pacing towards them from the ramp. He looked a little frantic and dressed in a Starfleet uniform that was a bit worse for the wear. Not in Argo’s colors, however.
“Daddy!” Josetta jumped up from her seat as the man came close and scooped her up in a hug. Katriel rose more sedately to her feet, waiting patiently for the moment to pass. The other officer’s arms clasped tightly around his daughter’s frame, squeezing briefly before relaxing. Then he set her down, taking Josetta’s hand, and turned an apologetic expression on Katriel.
“I’m so sorry, I’ve been helping with the settlement of … all of us, so I had to leave her with the rest of the kids and they went on that tour thing and --”
“It’s quite all right,” Katriel interjected, not wanting him to ramble on an unnecessary explanation. “It was no trouble to watch her. Swifty might like an apology, I admit, but don’t give him one. You’re from Starbase 234?”
“Yes,” the man’s expression darkened a shade, then he shook it off and extended a hand. “William Gene.”
Katriel returned the handshake politely. “Counselor Sedai. Your daughter’s been very good, don’t be too hard on her.”
“Oh, I won’t. I can’t afford to be,” Josetta’s father smiled painfully, looking down at the subject of their conversation. Josetta’s attention was rapt on the newly christened Argo constellation, oblivious to any discussion regarding her. “Our home is not the only thing we lost when we left H’atoria.”
Katriel’s glance sharped on reflex as her head tilted and she read between the lines and the blurred flashes of memory. Josetta’s mother didn’t make it off the station. “I’m sorry.”
The man didn’t respond immediately, as his glance remained on his daughter. “Other people lost more.”
“True,” was Katriel’s noncommital response.
They stood in silence for a moment or two longer, before William shook off his stupor. “I better take her back down. Thank you again, I’m really very sorry about any inconvenience.”
“It was no trouble,” Katriel reassured him. She turned to address Josetta instead. “It was very nice meeting you, Josetta.”
Josetta beamed, her earlier distress mostly forgotten, for now. “Thank you for the cocoa!” she chirruped as her father led her away.
“You’re very welcome.” She watched as the pair moved away and disappeared down the ramp. Her head tilted back to stare at the ‘Argo’ in the sky.
I only wish I could do more.
