Ten Forward 
1930 Hours

Matthys closely inspected some of the canvases that had arrived and were placed on easels in groupings by style across the ten-forward space. The space itself had been meticulously decorated in white and ivory decor, tables and chairs had coverings with pearls outlining their seams, the ceiling was adorned with lace netting, and crystal chandeliers had been hung, offering an extra warming glow. The space hardly looked like its usual self. 

The port side of ten forward was covered with abstract paintings by earth artists such as Kandinsky, Mondrian, Pollock, and Richter. This style, in particular, was favourited by Matthys and his grandmother and reflected in some of his own favourite paintings to date. He could not resist an opportunity to show such works off to other species, especially those who had likely never encountered them before. 

The starboard side of ten forward played host to several other works from other Federation species. In particular, some classics shared from Andorian and Rigelian culture. Bollwyn had helped ensure that room was left to share other works that Matthys had been less partial to. It had led to a diverse showing from the Federation in all three showcase areas. 

Lastly – space had been left for one of the Malon’s to showcase their artwork. One of their own officers was a celebrated current day artist, an engineer by the name Pklem. Several pieces of old flat scrap metal had incredibly intricate and beautifully etched designs on them. Pklem had told them it was a particular style on their world that had risen after their species had developed warp drive and were travellers among the stars. It was a tradition of artists in this style to collect any space scrap they could during their travels in order to harvest the best canvas to etch on. Of course – all the beautifully crafted pieces were meticulously cleaned and irradiated by the Columbia crew before being put on display.

“It was a good idea to invite some of our visitors to show off their own works as well, Samwell. You really are a thoughtful person, you know that?” Matthys crossed his arms and took in the sight of the room, he had a satisfied and more relaxed posture now that things were set up and rolling. Samwell had been instrumental in helping him pull this off.

Bollwyn blushed. “Thanks Matty,” He replied. “Is there anything more you need from me?” 

Matthys gave his friend a gentle pat and squeeze on the shoulder. “You’ve been a tremendous help. Just stick close is all I ask. Need my moral support nearby!” 

Nitala walked in wearing a semi-formal dress, looking around to see the various artworks that adorned the areas around ten forward. She slowly made her way around, looking at each piece of work and spending some time studying it. She had noticed Matthys and Samwell talking together and nodded to them with a soft smile.

Matthys smiled as he noticed Nitala making her way over to him and Samwell. Several of the lower decks had not only helped put this event together but many were coming through to show their support. In particular, Matthys took note of just how beautiful Natala looked in the dress she was wearing. He qwelled the urge to give a whistle, knowing that would be rather inappropriate in their current setting. Instead he gave a playful gesture with his arm, moving it from head to toe. 

“Nitala. You look absolutely stunning tonight. Thank you for coming!” Matthys welcomed her with an unusual enthusiasm, perhaps a bit bolstered by the excitement of the night.

“Hey someone else who is putting the Federation’s best foot forward with our guests,” Bollwyn remarked.

Blushing at Matthys’s compliment, “Thank you” she replied.

Naveah had been oh so excited when she first head about the Gala, and was glad to have been able to move her shift around accordingly. She had spent hours trying to pick out a dress – something fancy and a little extravagant – styled the outfit and… then decided on something a little more subtle. 

Matthys took notice of Ensign Stroyer standing not too far from the three of them. He waved at her to join them “Come join us Naveah.” 

“Gladly.”, she nodded and walked over to the three others. 

“How about we show our Malon guest some appreciation, team? It’s rather brave of him to put himself out there like this.” Matthys urged the team to follow him, and they soon closed the distance to Pklem’s set-up. The man was tall and bulky, which was not helped by the radiation suit he was wearing. There was also a rather pungent smell originating from him as well. He certainly had not put much effort into cleaning up for the event, or perhaps had come straight from a duty shift. Either way, Matthys hoped that both he and his colleagues could maintain a poker face for the moment. 

“I like your outfit.”, Naveah teased with a small grin. “The stain adds a nice touch.”  There was, of course, no stain. But sometimes the young woman enjoyed being a bit of a jerk, 

“My stain?” Matthys’ eyes went wide in dramatic display as he quickly inspected himself. It took him a moment to realise there was none and he had been played in the final moments before the group closed the distance to Pklem. He looked over to Naveah who had convientely turned her gaze away. He laughed off the gesture, certainly not immune to seeing the humour in a good prank.

“Ahh… Welcome, welcome!” Pklem opened his arms and seemed to appreciate the arrival of the group. 

The group admired the works for some time, chatting amongst each other and listening to Pklem describe to them the various places he had obtained the scraps of space junk which acted like his canvas. The story behind the art was just as important as the piece of work itself. 

“Do you not like it?” His tone suddenly changed, and his expression became curious and upset. 

Naveah tilted her head. “I can’t speak for the others, but I certainly do. It’s difficult to make art out of something that’s considered junk, but then, art doesn’t need to be pretty. It’s supposed to make you feel something.” 

Matthys’ eye grew wide again and a nervous energy began to spread from his abdomen. He wasn’t sure exactly what they had done to indicate they were not pleased with his work – it was beautiful.

“Well, Bajorans, for example, liked to fashion their earrings, or parts of it, from pieces of downed Cardassian vessels and structures.”, she shrugged. 

Matthys looked over at Naveah, pursed his lips together and nodded to show interest. “Really? I never knew that.” 

“Then please.. Touch it! Feel the art too. To us, that tactile experience is just as important as the visual. It helps you feel the art!” Pklem explained to the group, which helped them realize why he had initially thought they did not like it. With this particular art form in Malon culture, not interacting with the art physically was a sign that the viewer was not partial to the work.

Matthys didn’t need to be told twice. He immediately went over to the closest piece to him and began to rub his hands against it. He could feel the different levels of grooving on the metal and appreciated the varying textures of etching and grinding.

Others in his group followed, and each took their own terms, interacting with the pieces physically as well.

Pklem crossed his arms and the smile returned to his face. He was clearly feeling much better now. He continued to describe his works to the group with enthusiasm.
 

The Arboretum
1930 Hours

Across the arboretum, various plants were in bloom, offering visitors a fantastic visual and olfactory canvas to highlight the carvings, statues, and ceramics on display. 

One of the Bolian security officers on board, Pretty Officer Dragit, was an avid clay statue maker using a particular technique known as Uvem, characterized by exaggerated features of the likeness of which the statue represented. It would most closely represent caricature art forms on earth. Her works were displayed on the port side of the arboretum. 

On the starboard side, one of the Nygean visitors from the Delta Quadrant displayed various-sized wooden carvings, all of which were completed using basic hand tools. One was nearly eight feet tall and represented a bear-looking creature native to their homeworld, which apparently was one of the officer’s favourite domestic pets growing up.

The forward end had a majestic display of various Bajoran ceramics. Lieutenant Dorar had graciously volunteered to host the display. Although she herself was not an artist, she was an admirer of several variations of clay works from the classical and renaissance periods on Bajor. She had replicated and put together quite a remarkable display. 

James had finally relented, growing tired of being buried in an endless puzzle he couldn’t figure out he had decided to attend the gala. Unsure what to wear, he had opted for his dress uniform, and while he was not the only one he did feel a little conspicuous amongst the others wearing more personal clothing. 

Still, no one would be offended by a dress uniform, and he wasn’t the type to thrust himself into the middle of the floor anyways. Moving through the arboretum, he was pulled towards the art and plants he saw on display. James had always loved art, though the galaxy boasted more styles than you could possibly learn, there always seemed to be a method or meaning to the medium. It was fascinating to imagine how clay from Bajor could be shaped in such ways, by hands very similar to those of other species, and yet the colors and glazes used evoked different feelings. 

He nodded to Lieutenant Dorar, and took his time enjoying the thoughtful display. “It all looks quite stunning, is there a particular meaning to the order? Or just playing with the light?” he asked curious, moving as others joined the area, the scents of the plants equally inviting as the art. As his question had been idle, he wouldn’t press for answer if they proved busy, and he wondered if by touch he could determine which were replicated or not. Though he knew enough to resist the curiosity.  

“It’s funny you should mention that Ensign. The type of clay used during the classical period lacked any natural lustre. The artist would have to mix up a rather sticky resin base in order to apply and add some. The artists of the time did so ever so slightly though, to almost create an even more elevated three dimensional look to the work. It appears almost as if it was drawn onto a piece of paper, depending on the angle of view. The light plays as such. Especially on this piece.” Dorar explained Miller’s observation with such a deep passion in her voice. 

James listened as Dorar explained the process by which the lustre was applied. He could see the effect she spoke of, as she turned the vase to better show off the effect. “It really is remarkable how it catches the light, and I find the idea of a resin rather curious,” he said, trying to imagine any of the plants he had once studied in the Academy being any use in such a feat. He knew Bajor had a deep spirituality, and wondered if perhaps that had somehow influenced the piece. “Is this from a religious artist?” he asked curiously.

Before Dorar could reply to Miller, there was a blood curdling scream on the other side of the arboretum. One of the Nygean visitors who was paying a visit to the Bolian statues was clasping his hand and had fallen to the floor on his knees.

“Oh no… Oh no… Someone – help!” Petty Officer Dragit’s voice called out in desperation.

James turned when the blood curdling scream cut across from the other side of the arboretum. He could see many others turning around, and through the plants and displays was able to just see the figure who was calling for help. Knowing many others would be on their way to help, but also knowing there was always a use for more hands he dashed over towards the Bolian statues. He could hear others calling for a med team on their comms, so he didn’t add to the chaos as he approached. Seeing the Nygean on his knees, he didn’t see any injuries, although he noticed the clasped hands. “Do you need assistance?” he asked as he crouched down, trying to insert himself between the Nygean and the statue. 

Dragit closed the distance between their injured Nygran guest and where James had landed. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt. The statue over there was not meant to be touched – the polish on that statue is a burn risk to most organic tissue. I had a sign-up for a warning but didn’t take into consideration any language or linguistic barriers… I’m so sorry!” She explained the situation and was very apologetic towards the Nygean. 

“Ahhhh! I should have asked before I went touching it. It is my own fault.” The Nygran cradled the wrist of his injured hand with his other arm. There was clearly the beginning of some aggressive inflammation and blistering on his palm.

Wondering what kind of polish burned organic tissue, James filled his question away for later. It seemed like an odd choice for an artist to use something that would be so hostile to apply. Still there were many substances that burned when they came into contact with tissues, and he knew time would be of the essence. “Sickbay. We have a Nygean who has been burned by a caustic substance in the Arbortoreum. The skin is showing signs of blistering and what appears to be dermal breakdown in other areas. Its swelling as well. Please advise,” James said as he avoided touching the blistering skin, knowing the substance could likely still spread. 

There were too many possible chemical reactions that could happen, even a simple water flush could potentially react if the minerals or Nygean phisiology was incompatible. “Help is on it’s way, if nothing else we will get you to sickbay right away. Bear with it for a few moments,” he said, hating that was the only comfort he could offer. 

It did not take long for assistance to arrive. Within moments a medical responder was present and immediately went to work providing treatment on the burn. Dorar had come over to the scene as well and ushered some folks who were staring and taking in the situation to another area of the arboretum so that the Nygean could have some privacy. A quick scan, an analgesic and a few swipes with a dermal regenerator had the problem fixed. “I don’t think we need to take you to Sickbay. We got to this fast, and it seems to have responded well.” The medical officer looked up at James and the Nygean. “Unless, of course, you want to. Would be happy to follow up more there.”

The Nygean waved off the suggestion. “I’m feeling just fine now. Thank you.” He looked over the James in particular. “I am Captain Hyvek. Thank you for responding so quickly and with such compassion. You are?” 

James was glad the medical team had arrived promptly, and the dermal regenerator worked its wonders, the skin looking healthy and flush after it was done. When the Captain waved away the offer of Sickbay, James offered his hand to help him up from the floor. “Nice to meet you Captain Hyvek. James Miller. And I am glad you are feeling better.”

“Thank you, Ensign Miller. I will be sure to inform your Captain of how helpful and kind his officers are.” The Nygean looked to James and Dorar once more before moving away. 

Pretty Officer Dragit started to panic a bit. “Oh my goodness. I injured the Captain of the Nygean vessel?” The bolian began to pace back and forth, continuing to work herself up. “Captain Corbin is going to kill me… He’s going to transfer me to some garbage heap somewhere.”

“Petty Officer, I don’t expect the Captain to make a complaint. He is healed, and seemed in good spirits. And to be fair to you Dragit, there was no way of knowing that someone would touch the art display. The warning was posted and it was a simple accident. I am sure both Captains will see it that way,” he said, hoping to stop her from pacing back and forth. “With all of the varied species and physiologies’ on board, I am sure things like this happen more than we imagine.” 

The Petty Officer nodded, seeming to be a bit reassured by Miller’s support. “I’m going to put up a security field around that particular piece, just in case. This can’t happen again. Thank you for your help, Ensign.” She gave him a grateful nod before seeing to the extra security measures.