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Getting the place in order

Posted on Sat May 8th, 2010 @ 2:50am by Kasik Torr

Mission: Plotting New Courses. Season 1, Episode 7
Location: The Promenade
Timeline: Several days after the first arrival on the station

"One... Two... THREE..."

Kasik and the other three aid volunteers pushed as one, and the heavy chunk of rubble shifted aside with a clatter, out of the way of the stairwell.

Kasik wiped his forehead and dusted his hands. Had he thought to do those things in the reverse order, he might have managed to avoid the dirty smear of brown across his forehead. But he was to tired to think of details like that.

"Alright lads, I think we leave it at that for today. I'm done in!"

The other men nodded and collapsed in exhaustion. They'd got most of the Promenade cleared by now, but the going hadn't been easy. Most of the Federation types were busy getting docking clamps unstuck and jury-rigging federation parts into power distribution systems. Which meant the unskilled work like moving the wreckage out of the main walkways fell to the Bajoran aid volunteers.

Kasik didn't mind the work. When he helped out, it generally meant the other Bajorans felt better about the work - "if it's important enough for the Vedek to be helping out..." sort of thing.

But it wasn't exactly fun. Good exercise, but not fun.

With a grunt, he got to his feet. Giving a wave and a smile to the other helpers, he made his way stiffly around the Promenade towards where they'd begun to set up the temple.

The lights were still in the main shrine area. Kasik would have expected Voran to have finished work and headed back to straighten out his chamber about half an hour ago. The young Prylar worked far too hard for his own good. Kasik was going to have to make sure he relaxed a little, or he'd burn out in a few months.

"I'm back!" he called as he entered, collapsing into the nearest seat. Voran scuttled from the alter to the back to greet him.

"Good evening, Vedek... oh my! Your robes!"

Kasik glanced down at his Vedek's robes, smudged with various grease and dirt from the clean-up. He nodded.

"Yes... with any luck it'll stain and I'll have an excuse not to wear the blasted things. And I've said before - it's Kasik. I don't mind 'Vedek' when people are here for temple - if you must - but I'm not putting up with it when it's just the two of us."

He glanced up the front to where Voran had been working. There was another withered corpse on the table to the side of the alter - Voran had been binding him.

"What's that bring the count to now?" Kasik asked sadly.

"Forty Three," Voran replied soberly. "We're storing them all down in Cargo bay 9 for now - with the temperature turned right down. I'd like to take them down to the planet and perform a Rakesh pyre. But most of the transports are pretty busy at the moment, and no-one seems all that worried about the dead. I just hope the Starfleet people don't want them put in the matter reclaimator."

Kasik laughed.

"I can't see Lieutenant Solis letting an order like that go through. They'll get a funeral rite. It's just a little low on the official priority list right now."

There was the faint sound of movement from the doorway behind the alter - the area they were staying in until the station got the habitat ring straightened out. Kasik looked up in confusion, and shot a quizzical glance at Voran.

"Oh... yes! I forgot to mention," the young Prylar said apologetically. "Mylar Fol has arrived. He's setting up his chamber."

Vedek looked at the doorway thoughtfully. DS7 was a backwater post, better suited to being run by a younger Ranjen. Or even a mere Prylar - albeit one with a little more experience than Voran. He wondered what sort of Mylar would select such a lowly post - and if he had selected it himself, or been selected FOR it.

He stopped himself short of speculating in too judgemental a manner. A Vedek who had chosen a backwater post to avoid the politics of the Assembly couldn't really talk. What was that human expression? Something about houses made of glass?

Kasik rose with a nod to Voran to carry on with his work and moved through to where the sound was coming from - the chamber next to his own.

Mylar Fol Muris was probably in his seventies - a sombre looking Mylar, bald on top with wisps of white clinging to the back and sides of his head, and a prominent, slightly hooked nose. He wore clean, well pressed Mylar's robes of one of the oldest style Kasik had seen - probably dating back to before the Cardassian occupation.

The man was taking clothes out of a bag and carefully placing them one by one into one of the crates they were using for storage. He seemed the sort of man who did EVERYTHING in a careful, deliberate manner.

He stopped transferring clothes as he noticed Kasik, and bowed reverently. His glance seemed to take in the soiled state of Kasic's Vedek's robes, but his face remained impassive.


"Kasik," the Vedek replied. "I prefer Kasik. I'm happy to be called Vedek when services are on, but there's no need for it at other times."

"I understand, Vedek."

Kasik hesitated. He wondered for a moment if the man had just misheard him. But there was something oddly deliberate and firm about the man's words.

"We're not going to have a problem with this, are we?"

"I hope not, Vedek," the man replied calmly.

Oh. One of those.

"Alright then. We were thinking of holding the first temple service in five days. I'll probably speak at that one, but I'd be interested in you taking the next one. Are you comfortable with that?"

"As you wish, Vedek."

Kasik nodded. This man was going to be a barrel of laughs to work with.

"Alright then. Well... I'm going to go check in with Lieutenant Solis and let her know the walkways and stairwells on the Promenade are clear. I'll see you for evening meal?"

The man nodded, and returned to his packing.

Kasik laughed to himself. Hopefully, the habitat ring would be ready soon, or it could be a long week...


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