Crops must blossom.

Posted on Mon 19th Jun, 2023 @ 6:54am by Jaeih Havraha

927 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Neither Yours Nor Mine
Location: Romulan Farm Complex
Timeline: MD 4: 1000

It seemed almost like a whole lifetime had passed in the time between the arrival of Jaeih on the station, and the current hour. The current hour found her confounded by the lack of growth of the foodstuffs at the farm she was building at the request of the Ambassador.

Jaieh would never have considered that she would take service with an Ambassador, or that she would ever rest her blades in a time of relative peace. The marked assassins never rested their blades, for the political infighting of the Council never ceased and the Tal Shiar was ever vigilant. The assassin's fingers itched, and she heaved a gentle sigh as she purposely pricked her finger on the edge of her blade. It was razor sharp and a bead of blood came painlessly to the surface of her skin. She smeared it on the blade, giving it the blood it wanted, and the feeling of relief that her blade had tasted blood this turning. Even if it wasn't in the manner she knew it should be, or even the manner that she wanted it to be. Bloodlust came easily to the woman, who had been

The young snot that had attempted to kill the Ambassador's nephew had almost been too easy a mark to count as a blooding on her blade. She hadn't even spilled any of his blood. Jaieh hadn't needed to sully her hands with him more than to dispose of his body. He'd thought himself so safe in his rank and position, that he'd done something so fundamentally stupid that it had cost him his life. His disappearance would never be reported, nor would his body be found. The generator aboard the Ehtevau had ensured that. She'd watched him burn to a fine ash before she had reported that the job had been done.

She was an assassin. A cold blooded killer. An agent of the Tal'Shiar. And now, beholden to house t'Saeihr.

And yet, here she was happily playing in the dirt like a farm child.

This is what you were born to do, this is what your ancestors did for generations. That traitorous little voice brought her back to reality, for it was true. Hers had been farmers, hectares and hectares of h'laai grazing and pens for various other fowl. Lakes and streams fed the land and gave her parents a rather prosperous farm. Eggs, meat, fish and of course feathers had been their source for sustaining themselves. They'd fed themselves from the kitchen farm area that was just behind the house. Only the ambassador knew what she was, who she truly was and she could content herself with the fact that her skills were now a part of a House. She had a Family. They were using her, surely enough but they were also going to Protect her and hers. Here, she could do what her biological family could not...carve a bit of the universe out for herself...and maybe her daughter might come to love this place and take it from her when the time was right.

The water flowed, the wind touched the tassels of the plants. The pollinators they'd brought in fluttered around here and there, and the soil was near enough to perfect that she could only tell it was different from the color. The temperature was perfect, the humidity was perfect- if a bit uncomfortable for her at the moment as it was simulating the heat of the mid summer's day on Romulus. Starfleet had some technologies that she was impressed by, and their ability to create biozones within an area that was fundamentally different than the other areas did just that.

The plants in question were green-ish, with a faint yellow tinge of unhealth that she recognized as a prelude to disaster. If they progressed fully into yellow, there would be nothing for her to do but replant, but nothing she knew to do for these plants would fix the issue. She'd learned some at her father's knee, and yet she'd been taken by the Tal'Shiar at the tender age of 7 and she just didn't remember everything. She'd fertilized it the way she remembered him doing, with a slurry of fowl shells and ground bone. She'd let them dry out the way the season would and watered them like rain falling. She'd tried watering more, she'd tried watering less. she'd tried terran blood meal, insects to increase the air of the soil, and various fertilizers and yet nothing here was thriving. What was she doing Wrong?

"Twain preserve me, I'm going to have to call that damned biologist."

"Computer?"

"State your inquiry"

"Do I have a biologist assigned to this area?"

"Affermative, there are several of various specialties assigned to special projects such as the Romulan Farm Project. What specialty do you require?"

"Plants."

"Lieutenant Claire Minelan, is assigned from to the special projects with a specialty in botany. Would you like to request her attendance to the farm directly?"

"I would." Botany was the word, she'd forgotten what the term was. Standard was a difficult language to learn in its entirety. The slang was absolute murder, and she would know.

"Lt. Minelan's calendar and duty roster have been updated. Her attendance to your problem should be forthcoming."

"Good. I hate to wait" Jaeih muttered with a sigh. Maybe it was time to get some food while she waited. She didn't have any idea how long it would take the botanist to finish the project she was working on at the moment.

 

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