Finally off shift, but not quite ready to return to her quarters, Cadet P’Mala Dawes blended in rather well as she explored the ship. She didn’t know what to expect on her first posting, but one fact that surprised her about active duty was the inevitable downtime. Of course, after her duties ended, she’d inevitably return to her room. Maybe send a message or two. Practice playing the ka’athyra, the Vulcan lute she’d replicated on her second day aboard. She was terrible.

But today, she explored Deck 5–past the astrometrics lab and away from the wing with the junior officers’ quarters. She knew that the scientists and folks who ran the kitchen must be growing something on this ship and at last she’d found it–the arboretum.

Small, cultivated fruiting and flowering trees grew from floor-height planters, each temperature controlled to mimic the habitat of their indigenous growing locations. An NC trimmed a small shrub with a pair of pink scissors and quietly left. To a lab, perhaps–P’Mala didn’t know. Fruiting plants sat in planters on shelves under lamps expertly set to mimic the light of dozens of different suns–a fitting metaphor for the ship itself.

Though the half-Vulcan admired her own self-sufficiency, she knew she’d never been great at reaching out to others. Sometimes she even regretted it.

P’Mala scanned the room for something familiar, wanted to put her hands into some soil, if there were space. Even replicated seeds would grow into a plant–maybe a patch of personal eating veggies would be just the thing to make the Challenger feel like home.

Cadet P’Mala Dawes