Exploring Marchwiel

Posted on Fri Oct 8th, 2010 @ 3:48pm by Captain Elsie Halliwell & Captain T'mpest Michaels & Lieutenant Commander Dylan Blake & Lieutenant JG Jason Fisher & Lieutenant JG Nykala Marstin & Lieutenant Jimmy Cooper

1,279 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Structured Shoreleave - Marchwiel

ON: DOCKING AIRLOCK, DECK 15

T'mpest spent several hours going over as many records as she could to learn about the people on the planet and their culture. They were mostly pre-industrial and wore simple, homespun clothing.

She was first to arrive, dressed in a simple skirt and vest of dark green, her hair and pointed ears covered by a kerchief. The soft cotton blouse reminded her of ones her Scottish ancestors used to wear. She had her dirk carefully sheathed and tied to her calf.

T'kaarch had done his homework, and dressed himself as the local priests. Not because he was religious or anything, but because it was custom for priests to never show any part of bare skin, which was precisely what he needed because of his fur. This meant a completely white robe with headpiece, a black scarf-like thing around the head, and large leather-and-cloth boots.

He nodded to T'mpest. "Commanderrr, you look.. differrrent." It wasn't meant badly, he just didn't know what else to say about the strange clothing. Of course, in that light, he himself looked even worse..

Zhukov was the next to arrive. Their research had shown that due to the gravitational nature of the planet and it's odd orbit around the nearby star, that the people on the planet appeared to be much older then they actually are. The doctor had done a magnificent job of aging him by about ten to fifteen years by adding gray hairs to the hair he had left on his head, and my placing a few age spots and wrinkles around his cheeks, eyes, and forehead. She had also added horizontal ridges to his chin, the defining characteristic of the people on Marchwiel. The modifications would last for about a week, and over the course of that week, he would actually begin to look younger. It was a strange sensation for Vladimir, knowing that his hair would return to color and that the aging process would reverse itself.

Vladimir had decided to wear green and white, the colors of the local city-state of Eyton. The long robes he wore were white cotton, with a green and gold woven belt, and sandals. On his belt, he wore three leather pouches. One held his phaser, another a tri-corder, and the third was an mini emergency generator which could function as a force-field, a holo-emmitter, or a power booster. He also carried a brown leather backpack that held three days rations, a ground cover, a blanket, and a change of underclothes. His communicator was on his chest, but on the undershirt that was completely covered by the robes. He also carried a long wooden staff in his right hand for a walking stick.

He nodded at T'mpest and T'kaarch as the three of them waited for the rest of the away team to arrive.

Jason Fisher strolled through the doors, garbed in tan robes, a belt and a white headdress. He was also clearly not happy. "Don't get me wrong," he began addressing no one in particular, "I understand the need to blend in as much as anyone," he continued with a brief glance at the T'mpest, "But, seriously?" He waved his hands up and down the length of his torso, "I mean come on, I look ridiculous!"

Zhukov smiled at him. "Look at it this way, Jason, you get to pretend to be someone else for a week. It can be fun, trust me." he stated. "You won't have to deal with replicators, holodecks, ships systems, or duty rosters for at least three days." said Vladimir.

"I'll remind you of that factor later when we've keeled over from exposure or something," Lieutenant Blake's voice carried across the gather officers. He emerged dressed like the other members of the party in long robes that kissed the polished floor with each stride. They appeared tatty, ill kept with dark blotches staining the washed out blue hue, and continued upon the off white color of the tunic beneath.

He carried a bundle of cloth in his hands, presumably to wrap around his normally modern buzz cut hair, but right now the strands had been stimulated creating a mane of long, unruly hair which he'd hurriedly tied into a pony tail.

Zhukov chuckled a bit. "We won't die of exposure. Disease, starvation, heat exhaustion maybe, but not exposure." Vladimir said in a joking manner.

Irritated by his own poor choice of words Blake grunted, attempting to wrap the bandage around his new hairstyle with little success. "Still, you make it sound so inviting."

"It'll be fun," T'mpest assured him. She looked around at the others. "I must say, you all look great." As an archaeologist and historian, she was looking forward to this trip.

Zhukov looked at T'mpest. "I read the first chapter of that book you gave me last night. Was pretty interesting. All about the first settlers in the area." he said to her. "So who are we still waiting for?" he asked her.

She smiled. "I'm glad you like it." She looked around at those who had gathered. "I think we're all here."

"Yup, time forrr me to be rrreligious." T'kaarch bowed his head in prayer and started chanting strange words.

T'mpest tried not to giggle at the nonsensical words. She picked up a cloak and cloth pack with her bedroll and a few necessary supplies. She walked over to Zhukov. "As this is a patriarchal society, it is not seemly for a single woman to travel with a group of men. If we run into any locals, would you mind if I were with you?"

Zhukov nodded. "Yes, that's a good idea, T'mpest. I think we should probably pair up Doctor Marstin with either Blake or Fisher. No offense, T'kaarch, but playing the religious priest, you wouldn't have a woman with you." Vladimir said.

"Not and remain a member of the cloth," T'mpest agreed. She looked at the other three. "Any preferences as to who gets whom?"

"I'll go with the doctor," Fisher chimed in quickly, "At least they'll be hope for me if I get sick... or attacked... or..." he trailed off with no real idea of what he was going to say. He had felt somewhat negative about the whole mission from the start and it seemed to be catching up with him.

Surprised by the swiftness that Fisher had staked his claim, Blake looked on, helpless with his headdress askew.

"Hmm, no cute girrrl forrr me?" Something started bubbling again as he thought about Sehra and Blake, but T'kaarch decided to ignore it. "Wherrre is Lieutenant Marstin? If we want to get to ourrr campment beforrre darrrk, we will have to go soon." He referred to a cavernous place in the desert area they picked up on the scanners. The next day they would then travel on to go to the biggest city-state in the area.

Nykala saw everyone gathered near the airlock and hurried towards the group. "Sorry, to keep everyone waiting had a little mishap in sickbay."

Checking over her outfit and gear one last time Nykala smiled apologetically at the group."I'm ready as I'll ever be."

"Doctor, I must say that you look the part." said Zhukov. It was time to go. "Alright, now that we have everyone here..." he said as he walked over to the airlock controls. He tapped a few buttons and the airlock decompressed and opened to reveal a sandy gravel canyon floor with bright sunshine up above. "Shall we?" he asked as he started to head out the door, motioning with his hand to the others to follow him. It was time for another adventure.

 

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