A Marvel Been Made

Posted on Sat Nov 27th, 2021 @ 7:06pm by Lieutenant Commander Evelyn Rozia

Grayzuk was sleeping as Dessich sat at the table once more, the mostly empty dishes of what was passable as nutrition in front of him. All right, sure, it probably had what was necessary for his bodily functions, but the taste was different than what he was used to, probably the differences in spices and flavors that the Federationites used rather than what was normal on Caetov. He reached out and touched the surface of one of the puddings, bringing it to his lips to taste again. Perhaps, if he were lucky, they could give him a supply of this... Cinnamon.

The jaunty tones of a piece of music called 'Troika' by a human named 'Sergei Prokofiev' played quietly and suddenly Dessich knew that after he was returned to his world, that there would be things he would miss. It didn't take a genius to know that the food in front of him wasn't 'cooked' like what was eaten by his people. No matter how large the ship was, there was no chance that it contained enough foodstuffs for any significant number of people endlessly. Their attempts at making it more palatable, by introducing flavorings and spicing it indicated that it was even more wonderous than the mere fact of its existence.

The music? It was different than he was used to, but what they called a violin sounded more like a lechiza, one of their stringed instruments, with others sounding similar as well. It was music that soothed Dessich, more than anything else, even during his research, music always kept him grounded.

He stood up and walked over to the window, where his world orbited beneath them, the storms on the surface moving inexorably closer to one another, merely days apart at this point, and his hand reached out, to rebound off of the window that was made of something other than the high density plastics that the station had used. It felt different than that, more refined, more... Fantastical. The temperature outside was practically zero, but in here, it was warm.. And the window was warm to the touch and so thin in appearance.

What other wonders were there in this ship? In the Federation? Would he even be able to comprehend them even if he knew what they were? He left the window as the music changed over to another piece by this Prokofiev fellow. Perhaps he could obtain a copy of this composer's musical works, for his daughter at the least.

His daughter, his wife, even there he marveled again. He'd get to see them again, no matter the situation that had been promised. Ever since he'd gotten up to the station, well after they'd seen the asteroid incoming, he'd never believed that he'd ever see them, hold them again. But even if these people from the Federation chose not to assist them, he'd return to them at the end.

Dessich knew he should sleep, he would probably need his wits around him when they returned. There would be questions to be answered on the trip down from these Federationites, there would be even more questions when he and Grayzuk were having seen to have returned. He considered the bed in the other room, but instead turned one of the very comfortable chairs around to face the window and sat in it, leaning back into it's embrace to watch his world turn.

And it was as he did that, that Dessich Teralvo fell asleep to the green, blue and white of Caetov and finally got some well-deserved rest.