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Daily Logs 7-22-16

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I. Leslie and Erik keep beating their dead horse


I.
[The hull battered and abused, the halls ravaged by plants that cheerily tore through wire insulation for the short-lived heat of electric fires, the ship that so many had called home now looked more like a derelict wreck, floating through the cosmos to the purifying embrace of a star. It seemed inevitable: the plants fed on the heat of phaser energy, fought back against blade and edge, slithered away from forcefields. Some rooms on the Legacy no glistened with beads of herbicide that the vines seemed to give no more attention to than the crew itself. The fight was hopeless. The Legacy would be abandoned.
Or would it? No one knew for certain who had found the secret vulnerability. Sciences claimed they'd found it when the plants destroyed an experiment on Bose-Einstein condensates. Engineering would tell you a last-ditch fight with a bucket of coolant did it. In comms, the story involved a chilled dessert that had been left in stasis too long. Whatever the origin, the vulnerability was singular, critical: cold. Plants that thrived on heat shriveled and died when chilled. Part by part, room by room, an artificial cold snap spread, and wherever the north wind blew, the invaders wilted and crumbled to dust. A panorama of clutching roots was replaced by clinging icicles. Walls that had crept with vines were now whitened with frost. Victory had not been won, but the battle was being fought. It was only a matter of time until every last spore, every seed, was reduced to nothing at all.]
Erik: *leans against the door of a cargo bay, more than twice his height, a colossus of durasteel. Beyond, through the viewport, a scene of carnage: a nest of vines that must number in the thousands writhing, shuddering, one moment rising in a tidal wave of fury to pound against unyielding walls, the next, dropping to the ground and spreading, seeking some way out of its trap. And all the while, a white fog pours from the vents above it, on, and on, and on. On earth, nitrogen had cultivated countless generations of crops, but on the Legacy, the gas chilled to near-liquid form and aerosolized into the vents, was proving to be the death knell of an entirely different species of flora*
Erik: *like most, has opted for winter gear: in Starfleet Winter Regulation uniform and gloves, he strikes a handsome figure*
Leslie: *comes by, swathed in a full-body suit, including helmet headed to whatever room she calls home during this mess to take a nap before going back to work* *pauses when she sees Erik, though* What are you doing?
Erik: *grins: he's not wearing a /hat/, just an insulated band that covers his forehead and ears, winter goggles, and a half-cover balaclava. The blonde curls of his hair, exposed to the chilled air, have mostly frozen over. It's not clear why this has been done* I'm watching the plants die. Want to join me?
Leslie: *shakes her head inside of her helmet* I did plenty of that already. And in about...*checks a display on her forearm* five hours, I'll be doing it again.
Erik: *chuckles, realizing she couldn't see his smile through the balaclava* Well, I can take a break. Where were you off to?
Leslie: Sleep. I just spent a shift freezing individual bits of plant in medical.
Erik: *pauses* Well, I can hardly offer to join you. Walk you to your quarters? They have me stuck in a jeffrie's tube, of all places. No gravity on the deck, so it's quite comfy! *they offered him a real bunk in a cleared cargo bay, but Erik declined*
Leslie: *shrugs, then leans back against the wall opposite him. Then, deciding that's not enough, lets herself slide down until she's sitting* And leave your dying plants here unattended?
Erik: *nods* Naturally. *one by one, the vines are succumbing to the cold, as frost etches the reinforced windows. Their green surfaces blacken, the globules of juice that pulse on their undersides bursting as the liquid within crystalizes. Then, one by one, they slump the floor and begin to die in earnest* They aren't going anywhere.
Leslie: *mumbles* Except to hell.
Erik: *nods* In a handbasket, at that. And the sooner the better. Did you know they started putting together the antimatter and matter in the engines to feed themselves? Hopefully, engineering can sort that out. *somewhere, very, very close now, a star's merciless grip is tightening on the little Starship that Could*
Leslie: I didn't know that. My knowledge is limited to what I work with, and the people coming in reporting assault by plant.
Erik: And frostbite, I assume.
Leslie: Less common, believe it or not.
Erik: *experimentally flicks one of his curls, which makes a faint crackling sound* Scalps can't get frostbitten, right?
Leslie: I imagine you'd be dead or close to dead. Since it involves the freezing of tissue.
Erik: Perfect. I got some of their pollen in my hair earlier, and I'm making sure it doesn't survive.
Leslie: So that's the reason for *gestures* whatever that is that you're wearing.
Erik: *nods* Yup. Frosting the old hairy-dos.
Leslie: I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear that come out of your mouth.
Erik: How /is/ sickbay? I hear that Doctor friend of yours, the blue one, had her whole room wrecked. Aquarium and everything. *he grins* Is it true she sleeps in it?
Leslie: *raises an eyebrow* You're asking me about my coworkers' sleeping habits?
Erik: I know how, where, and how long everyone in Comms sleeps. At all times. *nods, seriously*
Leslie: *raises eyebrow further* ...Why?
Erik: It's important. When The ship falls apart,Comms has to be there to make sure everyone is on the same page. When Molly is out of commission, that means I have to put together a skeleton crew as fast as possible.
Leslie: I am even more glad I'm not in Comms anymore, given this new bit of information.
Erik: *grins* I mean, I only know to the extent that I ask people to keep me posted. I'm not going to put trackers on them or something.
Leslie: How considerate of you.
Erik: If only because starfleet put them on for me. *winks, and flicks his commuicator*
Leslie: Oh my god. *thunks her head back against the wall in despair* You're impossible. How does anyone put up with you?
Erik: *blinks* Well. They don't. As a general rule. *seems a bit less amused all of a sudden*
Leslie: *oh* Oh, I didn't mean it like that, Erik. That came out wrong.
Erik: It's alright. *he slides down, and sits across from her, pulling down his face-mask. In the chilled air, the scar on his cheek seems to pucker a bit more than usual, as if to draw under his skin for warmth* You're not wrong. I tend to put people off. *he shrugs* It doesn't bother me. I'd rather be disliked and have everyone be alive and breathing than have everyone die as one big happy family.
Leslie: For what it's worth, I like you.
Erik: I think that makes two people on the ship. *he pauses* Wait, do we count people who like me for my cooking?
Leslie: I don't know. Do they talk to you, or just steal your food?
Erik: Hm. Mostly, I leave the food out for other people enjoy while I work on my research.
Leslie: So I'd say generally, no.
Erik: Two it is, then. My counselor doesn't even like me.
Leslie: That's harsh.
Erik: You and Molly. *he shrugs* That's two, any way you slice it.
Leslie: Yeah, I know. I know how to count.
Erik: Then how is it harsh?
Leslie: That your counselor doesn't like you.
Erik: She doesn't, thats not her job.
Leslie: I know. But it's a lot easier to open yourself up to someone you know likes you, don't you think?
Erik: I open myself to her totally. That's why she doesn't like me. *winks*
Leslie: So what you're implying is either I have no taste or you didn't open yourself to me totally.
Erik; You /did/ break up with me.
Leslie: For different reasons. Not for lack of openness. Though more of that would have been nice.
Erik: If I recall, it was because I was too open, actually. *he shrugs* But it doesn't matter. If you're happy being broken up, I'm glad you did it. Your happiness is what matters in that particular case.
Leslie: Yeah, I'm happy. I miss you, but what we had just wasn't working. And I'm sorry I put you through that twice.
Erik: *shrugs* You wanted to see other people. You asked if I was okay with that. I said yes. You broke up with me. Didn't really put me through much. The good times were worth it.
Leslie: *incredulous* You- you!...ugh. Never mind. *puts her helmet in her hands* I'm losing sleep.
Erik: *confused* What did I say?
Leslie: You /always/ do this. You downplay your emotions. I don't know whether it's on purpose or not, but it's- *frustrated noise* *pushes to her feet* I should go to bed, such as it is.
Erik: *suddenly frustrated* That's exactly what I'm talking about. I go to any lengths to make sure you're happy -and you resent me for it. You wanted to date other people while we were together, I said okay. You don't want to feel like you hurt me, I assure you you didn't. How am I suppose to make you happy when me doing the things you want me to do makes you angry at me?
Leslie: I just want you to be /genuine/. I don't need you to make me happy. I could be happy just being around you, but you say the things you think I want to hear, and that /doesn't/ /help/.
Erik: I... Look. What I want... is for the people I care about to be happy. At any cost. When I say I'm willing to sacrifice anything for that, I'm not lying to make you happy, I'm /telling the truth/.
Leslie: *looks like she was slapped* Oh.
Erik: When I said I was fine with you dating other people, I wasn't pretending I was okay with it even if it hurt me: I was /okay/ with it /hurting/ me if it made you happy. Because that's what matters to me. It's the same reason I risk my life to protect the ship, even though I get injured: because I care more about the happiness of the people I love than I do about myself. Is that wrong?
Leslie: The first? Yes. Absolutely. I'm not qualified to weigh in on the second, but do you know why I was unhappy? Because I /knew/ you were hurting. I can't be happy if I know it comes at the cost of yours, Erik. I couldn't have that on my conscience.
Erik: *rubs his face, which is getting rather cold, and then shakes his head, breaking into a chuckle* God, I'm ridiculous. I'm sorry, Leslie. We always rehash the same thing. And I'm always an ass about it. 
Leslie: And I always get mad at you for it. I'm sorry. 
Erik: *shakes his head* You should get some sleep. And I should go talk to my counselor.
Leslie: Probably, yeah. See you later, Erik? Take care of yourself.
Erik: *nods* I usually do.
Leslie: I know, just. I'm reminding you. See you. *leaves*
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