Tech Exo: Artistic Viewpoint

Posted on Wed Apr 2nd, 2025 @ 6:33am by Nollel Livaam (*) & Wilhelmina Vermeulen & Chief Engineer Michael Burnstein

Mission: Cosmos
Location: Esquimalt Station
Timeline: 2398
2309 words - 4.6 OF Standard Post Measure

Nollel had not believed Gregnol when he told her she was free to go off and explore to her heart’s content on Esquimalt Station. The tech expo held little appeal for her—she had never been particularly interested in such things—but now that she had stumbled upon the Galactic Art Showcase, everything had changed. In that moment, the thought of returning to the SS Mary Rose seemed almost unthinkable.

Wilhelmina came up to stand beside Nollel and gave the woman a small smile. She had seen her aboard the ship but hadn’t had the chance to talk. “I wasn’t expecting this. It’s a nice break from the technical talk.” Will tilted her head as she looked at the exhibition. “What do you think it means?” Will liked art, but she didn’t know much about it.

Jillian walked into the exhibit, taking in the room as a whole for the first moments. Then, she chose a direction and decided she’d skirt the outer wall in a counter-clockwise direction. The first piece that hung off the wall was large and full of muted colors. In an attempt to see it better the short nurse backed up, but she accidentally bumped into one of the other ladies. ‘Oh, my apologies!” she said, turning.

Nollel turned at the bump and smiled at the woman. “No harm. No foul.” She said thinking of the human expression that Michael had said once upon a time. It was easier than something Ardanian that made

Will the moment of collision and reached out to stead the short nurse, her larger frame a steadying presence. “You okay there, mevrouw?” She then checked around them to make sure nothing had been dropped.

Jillian turned a slight shade of red, but smiled. “I’m fine, thank you.” She nodded to both
women. “Just thinking I should have started in the other direction now.” After a chuckle, she gazed at the piece they had been examining. “What do we have here?”

Martin had seen the collision from a short distance away, and the doctor had headed toward them almost on reflex. “Everyone all right?” he queried politely.

“Oh, quite,” the nurse said. “Thank you.”

Nollel laughed at the group that was now convening on where she was. “I am not sure. I was just starting to look at it but it seems to be the main art piece for this room.” She explained as she stepped back and looked at the other art pieces around.

“The largest, perhaps,” Martin agreed, though his eyes darted briefly to a lovely lavender-haired woman playing a circle harp on a small stage a short distance away. While the music added ambience, she was almost an art piece herself in a colorful dress whose bodice appeared to have been painted on and which flowed into a long flowing skirt that gave the impression of a swirling nebula.

Will looked at the art a little lost. “This one is… uhm… I like the colours?” She looked around for a plaque which would explain the artists intentions or something that could help her connect the piece. “The music is good too.” Her own wisteria coloured hair had started to grow out at the roots, a far less elegant look.
“The musical artist is Safyrah,” Martin explained. “She’s normally a vocalist, but agreed to provide harp for the evening …and apparently talked someone into providing a dress to compete with the other art,” he added with a smile. “Honestly, I at least understand the dressmaker’s intent. Most of the rest of this…” he gestured vaguely, “...is somewhat outside my wheelhouse.”

“Cannot say I recognise it myself. I have not listened to much new music recently.” Nollel held out her hand to the man speaking first. “Nollel Livaam. I am the Operations Chief on a civilian vessel.” She explained to the group as she looked back at the art piece. “The colours are unique.” She added trying to bring in all points.

“Welcome,” Martin said, accepting the hand. “I’m Dr. Sorenson, CMO on the Vesta. Pleased to meet you.”

Jillian’s ear caught the mention of another medical officer, and she looked toward the doctor. “I’m Jillian Norson, Head Nurse on the Archimedes.”

“Wilhelmina Vermeulen.” The tall woman offered her own introduction once the others had spoken, dragging her eyes away from the harpist. “I serve with Chief Livaam as a Master at Arms, although right now, I am just doing my best to expand my horizons by taking in something new. Dr Sorensen you mentioned you understand the dressmaker’s intent, would you be so kind as to help me in my understanding?”

“Nollel please.” The blonde corrected quickly with a smile. She was not a chief.

“Ah forgive me, old habits die hard.” Will shot her crew mate an apologetic look. “Five years out and I still default to referring to people as a post rather than their name.”

Martin averted eyes, trying not to look too directly as he repeated the explanation he’d been given earlier by the wearer. “It’s meant to give the impression of musical notes turning to color and flowing out into the cosmos as a creative force.”

“Oh…” Will said the words almost like an exhale of a breath. She looked at the dress and something seemed to slot into place. “I would say the artist has achieved that rather effectively… now that I know what it is they are trying to achieve.” She rubbed the back of her neck, feeling quite out of place. “Are any of you familiar with the other artists here?”

“It is a beautiful piece,” Nollel said longingly. It was not her format of art at all but she could appreciate it all the same. She took a walk around the dress and nodded. She could see exactly the moment when the art came together and it was beautiful that someone else thought that there was accretive force.

“It is indeed,” Martin agreed, smiling softly, before remembering himself and returning to more of a proper host mode. “But music is the type of art that most appeals to me.”

“I used to be an artist,” Nollel admitted hesitantly. “What is your favourite piece of music?” She wondered always interested in suggestions for music, especially of someone who had a completely different style of life to her being a doctor.
“Probably B’Fret’s ‘Into the Black’,” Martin replied. “But my tastes are pretty eclectic. I tend to play fusion jazz in surgery.”

“I like jazz, I think it is a matter of national identity. In my home country there is a festival every year, and really it is the best time to visit.” Will answered with a laugh. “In particular the classical standard. Miles Davis, Ella Fitzgerald, the First Lady of Song.”

“I have heard of them. My mother-in-law introduced me to that on my first trip to Earth. My husband much prefers rock.” Nollel admitted thinking that eventually, Burnie was going to have to come searching for her for dinner. “What about you Will? We have never spoken about music. Only food.”

“I don’t mind rock, for me it’s the vocals. I enjoy listening to people sing with their heart. Whatever instruments accompany them, there is no finer than the voice.” However Will then grinned. “Although food is extremely important too.” She chuckled thinking of her current project. “And the food here is not disappointing. I think my normal work trousers will be much tighter upon my return to the ship.”

“My CFO gorged,” Martin laughed. “But then he’s Kainan, so he can eat until he practically bursts and still stay trim. I’m not quite that lucky,” he laid a hand across his midriff. “I’ve had to spend a bit more time jogging this week.”

Nollel had never met a Kainan but she could imagine that they were trim being canine as they were. “We shall get you a flight suit if you have concerns,” Nollel said lightly, not wanting to comment on weight when she was skinny. She could do with putting a few pounds on but that would be cruel to comment and she was not that type of person. “But you both look lovely.” She assured hoping it did not come off as rude as they had been discussing “ art and now food.”

“Kind of you, Ms. Livaam,” Martin said with a nod. “I’m more just the usual stereotype of health-conscious medical officer. I am trying to learn a bit more about visual art, as I’ve been reading about the uses of art in therapy. As you were an artist, I’d appreciate your insights.”

“Nollel, please. I am not sure Ms is my title either so Nollel is just fine.” She quickly assured as Will touched her shoulder and indicated the next art piece. “Art in therapy is great. It creates self-awareness and emotional regulation. You should talk to a counsellor more though about it better. I create art but I cannot say or control how it is used.”

“Nollel,” he corrected politely. “That is the idea. Sadly, Chief Counselor has been a bit of a revolving door on my ship, so I’ve been trying to pick up a bit more expertise myself to fill in the gap. But understanding interpretation and general art appreciation has to be a starting point, I think.”

Nollel smiled a little. “Revolving doors are not a good thing to have on a ship but if you are wanting some basics on art therapy there are some good holo programs that I can write down the name of.” She admitted thinking that she had done some once SS Mary Rose had a holo deck to help herself through some of her challenges.

“Thank you. I’d appreciate that,” Martin replied, and then spoke seemingly to empty air over his shoulder. “Max, could you take down the information Nollel has so graciously offered?”

An instant later, the hologram of a man roughly Martin’s height and build, but with dark hair and dressed in a simple grey suit, appeared next to the CMO. “Most certainly, Doctor.” The old-fashioned notebook and pencil he had been holding turned into a padd and stylus, which he offered to Nollel. “You can write them down here, or if it is not convenient at this time, provide your contact information and I will send a link you can use to send the list later.”

Nollel blinked at the hologram before she caught herself and took the PADD quickly putting in her contact information. “I work on a civilian vessel but if I can’t reply straight away I will get back to you as soon as I can but later on will be better so I can think better on things than here and now.” She assured hoping that it would be okay.

“Of course. Thank you, it’s very much appreciated,” Martin with a smile and nod. “And thank you, Max. That will be all,” he added, dismissing the holographic PA, before returning his attention to Nollel. “A civilian vessel, eh? I’m glad to see you here. While I know this is primarily a Starfleet function, I started as a civilian doctor and I confess I’m disappointed that so few others from civilian sectors have turned up.”

“That would be because a lot of the civilian sector no longer believes in the same things as Starfleet, unfortunately.” She said sadly, thinking of how she had seen Starfleet as the protectors of the universe but being on SS Mary Rose had opened her eyes to the machine that it had become.

Martin paused, unsure of what to make of the statement. Did she mean because Starfleet had strayed, or because civilian society had? He’d seen the places Starfleet had fallen short of their ideals, but he also knew that even before Mars, Picard’s original plan to rescue the Romulans in Hobus’ path had been under attack by insular civilian interests. “I’m afraid there are too many in both sectors that no longer believe in working for the greater good. Still, I’d hope advancing science would be a common cause.”

“I like to believe so but much like this artwork there are many viewpoints on the subject.” Nollel said sadly before she offered a smile to the man. “But you seem like one of the good ones. One of the ones that can weather the storms.” Nollel said knowing that good men existed as she worked with them day in and day out now thankfully.

“Thank you,” Martin ducked his head; he always felt a bit awkward about such compliments. “I try to be. But I’m also surrounded by good people. They aren’t rare, at least in the places I’ve served.” Realizing it might sound too much like he was defending Starfleet, or even being defensive about it, he added, “which includes civilian hospitals and aid organizations. I don’t think I weather storms because I’m good, but because in the midst of storms, good people help one another.” He offered a smile, trying to lighten the conversation a little. “And they also help with no storm in sight, simply because they can - as you just did by sharing your expertise.”

Spotting his yeoman trying to discreetly catch his attention, the doctor sighed inwardly. So much for enjoying the rest of the evening. “I’m afraid there’s something I need to attend to - price of being one of the chairs for this event. But it’s been a pleasure meeting you.” He nodded genially to Nollel and the others. “And if there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask.”