Of Sound Mind 1 of 2

Posted on 20 May 2012 @ 11:26pm by Ensign Im'er Mor'an & Lieutenant JG Brayden White Ph.D.

2,924 words; about a 15 minute read

Mission: Episode 01 - Project Sienna
Location: USS Galileo: Deck 3, Counselor's Office
Timeline: MDO5 - 1300 hrs

As everyone else had or is going to do, Mor'an was headed to the counselor's office for an evaluation. She thought it as rather pointless -- after all, if anyone knew anything about the Tarkannan, they would know she was the most mentally sound being on this ship. Except, maybe, for Del'an. But orders were orders, so here she was, stand outside the counselor's office. She hit the door chime.

Brayden was once again nibbling on slices of mangoes when the door chimed, flipping through the personnel files of those who had yet to schedule their evaluations. He was really hoping they would come around in their own time without his having to go and track them all down. "Come on in," he called, looking up from his cross-legged position on the floor in front of his desk. He was wearing charcoal colored slacks, a black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled back, and no socks. "Hi," he greeted the newcomer when the door opened, a welcoming smile on his face.

Mor'an looked down at the man sitting on the floor. She hesitated for a moment, looked around the room and then sat on the floor across from him. This was certainly a new experience for her -- sitting on the floor on a counselor's office for an evaluation.

"I am here to be evaluated," she stated in a flat voice. "Shall we make this quick and painless?"

"I certainly hope so; the painless part anyway. You don't have to sit on the floor with me," he added with a quick smile. "I was just finishing a little thought exercise." He held out his hand to her, "I'm Brayden. Who are you?"

Mor'an didn't respond verbally as she touched her forehead with her first two fingers and twisted them around to face Brayden. "I am Im'er Mor'an," she said, "And I do not mind sitting on the floor. That is where I like to meditate."

Brayden dropped his hand, watching the gesture. Beautiful and simple and so much more expressive than a handshake. It made him wonder just what handshakes were for; some ancient Earth custom to prove both held no weapons, hadn't it been? Or was that a theory? "You meditate often?" he asked.

"I do," Mor'an replied, settling herself more comfortably on the carpeted floor. "I find it invigorated yet calming. We Ta'rkan meditate as often as we eat. On Arun R'Lantha, my home world, there are those who spend days on end in meditation."

"They do so on Earth, my home world, too. Some do. Not as many as perhaps ought to," he added with slight smile. "Where is Arun R'Lantha?"

"Beta Quadrant," Mor'an said, "It is a pelagic planet. We are new to the Federation so not many people have heard of us. I am the first Ta'rkan to enter the Academy."

"Congratulations," Brayden told her. "How did you find that - being the first of your people at the Academy?"

"I feel like I am paving the way for posterity," Mor'an said, "Other young Ta'rkan will see me as a figurehead. It is my duty to ensure they see the right figurehead."

"What does that entail? Being the 'right figurehead'?"

Mor'an looked away for a moment, thoughtful. "They see what it means to have one's duties fulfilled," she said finally, "Being trained on Arun R'Lantha is different than being trained by the Academy. The younglings have mentors on Arun R'Lantha that will show them. At the Academy, there are none. I am the first."

"You didn't have any mentors are the Academy?" he asked.

"Well, of course I did," Mor'an said, "But not like my mentor, Del'an. The mentors at the Academy do not train in the ways of the Ta'rkan. It can be difficult to meld the two teachings together. When they see me, they must see one of their own who has kept the traditions and rituals of our people, and yet embrace the Federation without loosing myself."

"How would you lose yourself?" Brayden asked, resting his hands on his knees. "Keeping in mind that I didn't go to the Academy and also know nothing of your traditions," he added.

"Melding together two such different cultures is no easy task," Mor'an said, fixing Brayden with an intense stare, "If one is not careful, one will become so caught up in the new that they will forget the old. Being submerged for so long in one environment will cause one to, as the Borg say, become assimilated into that culture. Because I have been with Starfleet for so long, I must constantly remind myself to do the rituals and meditations that are required of me in accordance with my people's teachings."

"Is that what it felt like to you?" he asked, meeting her stare for stare. "Being submerged?"

Mor'an sat and gazed for a long moment, not sure what he was asking of her. "Yes," she said finally, "Otherwise I wouldn't have chosen such a word."

"That can be kind of a scary feeling," he probed gently. "Sometimes, when you're under, you feel like you've lost control of yourself, even if you're doing all the right things. Or you're in control, surrounded by an environment that's alien, and even though you're in it, you're not really a part of it."

Mor'an leaned back on her hands and smiled at the human in front of her. "My language does not match Federation Standard perfectly," she said, "I did not mean that I had either lost control of myself or...been alienated. I simply meant that I was in an environment that was different than what I had grown up in and I had to learn to adjust. I have done that very well."

"Ah," Brayden said. He wasn't entirely sure how that translated to the idea of being completely immersed in water, but maybe her people could breathe under water. Maybe it was just another environment to them. More research was necessary. He should have known better. What had Ansen said? The Tarkannan were very patient people. "And still maintain the aspects of your culture that you don't see evident among the Federation races," he added, for clarification's sake.

"Yes." Mor'an said, "So that the younglings that come after me can see how it is to be done." She said it as though she was glad to have brought the conversation full circle. "Are we done here? Am I mentally sound?" Though, of course, she knew the answer to the latter question.

Brayden sighed internally. Even the patience of the Ta'rkannans was apparently tested by a psychological evaluation. Maybe it was the office. Did the soothing green of the walls irritate them somehow? Make them feel ineffectual? Ansen hadn't seemed to mind a longer conversation, when they'd been in his natural environment. Then again, the chef had turned the tables on him in a way. "Is there somewhere else you need to be right now?" he asked, reasonably. How did any of these people leave the Academy thinking it took less than half an hour to assess another intelligent being? What sort of pointless evaluations were they giving at the Academy?

"No," Mor'an said slowly, "But I have been evaluated numerous times -- at length -- and I have been declared fit for duty. I do not see the point of me being here. And there is no need for you to enlighten me -- I understand the purpose of the evaluations. How many times must I be declared fit for duty?"

"Every time you transfer," he said ticking off the events on his fingers. "To a station, from a station, from the Academy, between departments, and to a new ship, especially. Everyone does it. It's not just you. Try not to think of it as being declared fit for duty," he recommended. "Just think of it as a conversation you get to have with a new person who's interested in your well-being each new place you go. It'll make it easier on you. And them."

Sitting still and contemplating was a skill that Mor'an was well versed in. She applied that skill now to the situation at hand. Humans just didn't understand her kind and because of that, often times they wasted their breath in explanation of something that they believe her to not comprehend. Now was one of those times. She stared for a long moment at the wall behind Brayden's head. "Very well," she said finally, catching the man's gaze again. She was not about to explain the entire mentality of the Tarkannan race, though she wanted him to understand her more than he seemed to.

"Okay," he said, watching her intently and fighting the urge to turn and look behind him at whatever was holding her interest more than their conversation. "Maybe you'd like to tell me what interested you in Starfleet?"

"Arun R'Lantha is new to the Federation," Mor'an began, "I like new experiences, new people, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to explore both. I just happened to be the first of us to go through the Academy. My mentor has been involved with Starfleet much longer than I."

"She's on board as well, isn't she?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I heard about a dinner the Captain's hosting in her honor. Yours, too, I suppose. Tonight. I had the honor of being a guinea pig for your meal. Some of the best food I've eaten in my life. But she wasn't with you during Academy. How does it feel, sharing space with your mentor again?"

"It feels no different than my childhood training," Mor'an said, "She has always been a facet of my life, one that will always be with me. Having said that, we both know that her place on board is as an observer, not my mentor. That is Holliday's duty now."

Brayden leaned back on his hands, mirroring her. She was a cool drink of water, wasn't she? It could have been a complicated situation, at least somewhat, having two mentors in the same place, potentially drawing her in two directions, but if she felt torn she didn't show it. "And your experience on board so far - how are you settling in?"

"I have settled in just fine," Mor'an replied, "I am adaptable. As for my experiences, I have enjoyed every challenge that has presented itself to me."

Non-specific text-book answers, he thought, maintaining his neutral 'therapy expression' - listening and interested. "Yes?" he replied, interested to see if she was willing to go past the surface.

Mor'an met Brayden's eye and gave him her favorite vampiric grin. "You are not convinced of my mental stability, are you?"

He quirked a brow at her, curiously, "What makes you think that?"

"If you were, I would not still be seated here at the moment, would I?"

Brayden smiled. "Is that how your other evaluations went? You answered a couple questions and went on your way?"

"No." Mor'an had no desire to expand anymore than that. "I just find it hard to believe you can evaluate the mental stability of a being by just talking to it and asking questions. The mind is so incredibly diverse and complex that it would take an excruciating long time to really know of someone is not stable. I have lived with people who were able to hide the fact that they were unstable for years because they mastered their own emotions. They hid their mental state. The Tarkannan race is centered around the mind and, due to our rigorous training, it is too easy for one of us to go insane. But, also because of our training, it is very easy to hide it."

"Then I think you understand why we do so many of these evaluations over time, with so many different counselors. Command may not read all of the personnel reports. We do." He stored that tidbit about Tarkannan training away for later and nodded to her, "You're right, of course. There's no way I can know you entirely just from a conversation. There are things we're trained to look for. Usually those are so obvious, I'd expect a commanding officer to see them before I ever got a chance to. And you're right as well that, if someone is aware of something amiss with their mental state or cognizant of the knowledge that their goals and Starfleet's are at cross-purposes, they will make every effort to hide those facts from everyone, and from a person in my position especially. So what's the point?" He lifted his brows, at ease. "What do you think?"

This human was intelligent -- Mor'an liked intelligent beings. "You are different than most humans that I have met," she said, "Do you always have an answer for everything?"

He laughed, willing to go along with her for the moment. "It's easy to have answers. Having the right ones, that's the hard part; especially because so many questions don't really have a right or a wrong. At least, in my experience they don't. Maybe one day I'll learn differently."

"No, you have it right," Mor'an said, "Most questions do not have a right or wrong answer. And now, back to the topic at hand. How many more questions must you ask me?"

"That wasn't the topic at hand," he told her with a sideways smile. "But I'll tell you anyway. I don't know. I don't have a set list. What I have is time." He nodded to a small black bar he'd hooked to the wall beside the door. "That started counting when you came in. And when the allotted time has passed, I'll get a notification. Until then, I get to actually talk to you and pay attention to what you have to say. Well, technically I can do that as long as you let me, but that's how I figured out how to keep these moving. So. Where were we? I think you were telling me how it's easy for Tarkannan to go insane and hide their mental state."

Nothing got by this human, of that Mor'an was sure. "Yes," she said in a smooth voice, "Think of it in terms of the Betazoid. They feel other's emotions. If they do not learn to control them and live with them, they will go insane. The Tarkannan are similar in the sense that our training is so intense, even from a young age, that if you do not adapt, it is dangerous for you. Because of the mental tricks we learn to use, sometimes one can fool one's self into believe one is stable. It does not happen often, but I have seen it." She suddenly realized how this must sound to Brayden. "I assure you, I have not fooled myself into thinking I am stable. My mentor would not have let me off the planet."

"I didn't think that you had," Brayden assured her simply. "Betazoids think each others thoughts as well," he added. "Is that a trait that your people share?" he asked, trying to clarify. He knew virtually nothing of her race or culture. The more he knew, the more useful he would be to her.

"No, but we have traits similar to those of the Vulcan. We are able to use our mental focus to disrupt or manipulate the neurosystem of other beings just by touching them. That is one of the hardest techniques to learn."

He nodded slowly. "There's a great deal of responsibility that comes from having a power over others like that. Some can find it a heavy burden."

Mor'an looked at Brayden with a raised eyebrow. "I have never felt it to be a burden. I rarely ever use it -- it makes me tired. We are not taught the technique until our mentors are assured we are ready for the responsibility that comes with it, because you are correct, it can be a heavy burden. But most do not see it as so."

"Most don't consider the damage they can do with a phaser, either," Brayden murmured, "and yet I still see a few in sickbay everywhere I go being treated for phaser accidents." He stretched his spine a little to the left and returned to his casual posture. "Can you tell me about your training? And what you mean by needing to 'adapt' to it? That makes it sound as though it's not a regular part of your culture - is it not?"

"Again, wrong choice of word," Mor'an said, sounding amused. "It is a normal part of our culture, else our mentors would not be so proficient in teaching it. I mean that we must adapt to the teachings and techniques taught to us, as any student might. Do we not need to learn what is taught? Adapt, conform, heed. This language has too many words that mean the same thing. Words, words, words. Always words."

"Oh, they don't mean the same thing, though. It's about connotations. Semantics. It's what we, humans, thrive on. How many different flavors of an idea there can be. You don't have that in the Tar'kan language?"

"Spoken language is secondary to the Tarkannan," Mor'an said, "We will have entire ceremonies done in complete and utter silence. Our greetings are silent. A mentor can teach entire lessons without saying a word. Our planet is....quite."

"That's fascinating," he murmured, enthralled. "How? Do you have a... what? A signed language? A shared body language?"

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