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The air was clean.

This in itself was a novelty. Han Solo had encountered air on more planets than he could remember, but never anything so pure. No hydrocarbons, no industrial wastes, nothing, just clear air that smelled of chlorophyll from the green ground-cover and trees.

He had no idea where he was. The last thing he remembered was reaching for the hyperdrive levers, and everything going black instead of streaky.

He got up from where he was sitting under a tree and started wandering toward a low hill he could see in the distance.




The first thing Jean-Luc Picard smelled was lavender. Fresh lavender, like his mother used to grow in hanging baskets when he was a child. He opened his eyes to a sky that looked like home. Ridiculous, of course. Enterprise was nowhere near Earth.

He was sitting under a tree, an alder, and a brook flowed nearby. Grapevines terraced a hill on the other side of the brook. He made his way across a line of stepping stones and walked toward the vineyard.

The man just cresting the hill walked with a pilot’s rangy swagger, his hand near his weapon. Picard found he had no phaser, so raised his hands as the stranger drew closer, holding them palm forward near his chest.

He made eye contact and said “I’m Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation Starship Enterprise.”

Hmm.....

Date: 2005-05-20 01:10 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dakiwiboid.livejournal.com
I wish that cultivar of hanging basket lavender had already been hybridized. It would be nice. In the part of France where I THINK they live, I would have thought that they'd grow huge fields of it. There's a whole lavender-growing industry in France.

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