spock: logic is sexy

Ficlet: Care My Father, Order My Mother (Number One, gen)

Title: Care My Father, Order My Mother
Author: igrockspock
Character: Number One
Rating: G
Summary: She comes to the Academy not as an orphaned child but as an adult who has earned her independence - about 500 words
Notes: for the current drabble fest at where_no_woman. Do go visit it and participate!

When I had no father I made
Care my father. When I had
No mother I embraced order.

One arrives at the Academy with a single black duffel bag. She is the first in the dorm check-in line, and she watches from her sixth floor window as the other cadets emerge from cars, surrounded by parents and laden with overflowing cardboard boxes. She had finished unpacking more than an hour ago. The bottom most drawer of her bureau is half-full of civilian clothing; the top one filled with bras and underwear made from plain white cotton. Three uniforms hang in her closet, and under the bed are precisely three pairs of shoes: regulation boots, simple black pumps, and new white sneakers for running. They had cost more than half the credits in her meager account, but she likes to have the best. On the wall, she hangs a copy of her class schedule and a nav chart of this quadrant, both done in her immaculate hand.

All day, she picks her way around her roommate's possessions as she makes small forays into the city. From the office supply store, she gets an extra box of styluses and the largest memory card she can find, the better to contain the high res star charts she prefers to work from. On her way back, she stops at a drug store for shampoo, toothpaste, and tampons, which would have weighted down her duffel bag on her journey across the stars. Her last stop is a liquor store, where she buys a bottle of whiskey even though she does not think she likes to drink. Her limbs are long and gawky, and her face is still and adolescent's face, but her bearing and authority convince the manager to sell it to her without identification. With this small success, she reminds herself that she is here alone not because she is an orphaned child but because she is an adult who has earned her independence.

"Where's home?" her roommate asks.

One surveys her side of the room, taking in the high-volume padd placed precisely in the center of her desk, the bed made to pass inspection, and the color coded data chips neatly arrayed on the nightstand.

"Here," she says, not without satisfaction.
"Here," she says, not without satisfaction.

I especially liked the details you wove through this -- the shampoo, toothpaste, and tampons, the rationale for the largest memory card she can find -- she come alive so clearly, in all her youthful gawky self-possession.

Lovely work!
Thank you! Sometimes it's hard to tell whether those every day details are too twentieth century, so I'm really glad you thought they fit with the piece.
The joy of remaking One's self at college.

The joy of remaking One's self-- whenever.
Fantastic! I absolutely love her sense of owning herself and her place in the Academy.
I like this One very much, a lovely charactor sketch that feels true in very few words.

Edited at 2010-02-17 05:25 am (UTC)