Of Sound Mind 2 of 2

Posted on 20 May 2012 @ 11:26pm by Ensign Im'er Mor'an & Lieutenant JG Brayden White Ph.D.
Edited on on 21 May 2012 @ 11:19pm

2,403 words; about a 12 minute read

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

[ON]

Mor'an took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Now it was going to get complicated. "No," she said, "Our signs are not a language. Our greetings are a single sign, but they do not mean 'hello.' Our ceremonies include hand motions and gestures, but they are not a 'language.' I can sit in the same room as Del'an, neither of us saying a single word, and know exactly what she is thinking. It is not mental telepathy, but something deeper. It is so hard to explain, and even harder to understand."

Brayden listened to her words, feeling a kind of humming sensation between his ears as she went on. She was describing an entirely new kind of mental acuity. A whole new way of using the brain. A whole new brain entirely. "You realize... for someone whose study is how the mind works and how one mind relates to another... to tell me that and then nothing is," he whistled softly, "tantamount to torture. Could you try to explain it? Would you?"

"It would be like explaining a part of myself that has no explanation," Mor'an said, "It is an ability that we all have, just like the Betazoids can feel emotions. How do they do it? It cannot really be explained, they just do. We are taught just like one is taught to speak -- it just happens because of the people who surround you." She shrugged with a delicate rise of her shoulders. "How can I explain that in a way that you will understand?"

"You seem to have an understanding of how the Betazoid mind works. And how a human's does. Perhaps you could imagine some kind of explanation relative to those?"

"I understand their abilities,"Mor'an said, "Not their minds. You and I understand that they can feel emotions, but not how or why. It is the same for us. I cannot explain how, we just do. How does one think? Or feel happy? Or sad? What happens inside of us that causes that? We cannot explain how, it just happens."

"Actually," the son of the neuroscientist explained. "We can. Not entirely, but... we can approach an understanding. For instance, I know that a Betazoid's ability to distinguish emotions and thoughts in others is seated in their paracortex, with psilosynine being their main neurotransmitter. And I know that the psilosynine reacts between their paracortex and the mind they are 'reading' or otherwise connecting to by acting as a temporary active neurotransmitter for the other mind. Like a chemical chameleon. We can watch those reactions taking place. We also know that seratonin is the human brain's neurotransmitter, and that it, in cooperation with chemicals like dopamine, acetylcholine, epinephrine, and norepinephrine, are responsible for our emotions. And we can measure those with a scan to see where on the relative scale of happy to sad we fall. We can scan the brain for reaction points, tell what parts activate in response to positive and negative feedback. The larger philosophical questions of how and why, those may never be answered. But many specifics we have been able to narrow down over the centuries. Do you have neurochemists and neuroscientists among the Tarkannan?"

"You really do have an answer for everything," Mor'an said, her voice suddenly not so pleasant, "Since you are so well versed in such matters, you tell me how it happens since you will not accept the answer I have lain before you." And here was the exact reason she disliked anyone in the medical or counseling field -- they over-analyze EVERYTHING. "Of course there is always a scientific answer for what happens in our brains. I never said otherwise. I am not a scientist. I am a Tarkannan. It is what happens to us as we grow. Do not ask me why. Why can humans never accept something for what it is? Why must I always explain myself?" Her eyes bored ahead, not really looking at Brayden yet not looking away. Her voice remained calm, but strained.

Brayden considered the woman in front of him, alerted to her sudden change of mood. It appeared he'd inadvertently trod upon a sore subject with her. "It wasn't my intention to run off on that subject," he said apologetically. "I'm sorry. Being one of the first of your people to have an ongoing interaction with the Federation, I imagine you must be sick to death of strangers trying to pick your brain, literally." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees in a contemplative posture, "Most humans, if I asked them the same questions, would probably throw up their arms in disgust with me too. It's where my interests lie and I sometimes let my curiosity about mortal nature get the better of me. For that, I also apologize. This session isn't about me, or my interests. It's about you." He sought her gaze, "Can you forgive me?"

Mor'an, too, leaned forward and kept his gaze. "If Del'an saw me so...agitated she would be appalled," she said, "There is no need for me to forgive your curiosity, Ash'anth'i." The name she gave him meant something like 'revered confidant.' She offered him a small grin. "Shall we begin again?"

"Please," he smiled, grateful for her willingness to move past his bungle. The word she used was beautiful, though he had no idea what it meant, lacking as he was a universal translator. By context, he could infer it was some kind of reference to him, but he wasn't sure how. He stored the sound of it away in his head and focused on her. He was still curious about the answer to his question, but now was neither the time nor the place. "I imagine you spend a great deal of time fielding questions about your people's physiology and culture; it must become terribly frustrating over time. To feel as though people aren't seeing you - only what you represent. I believe your 'agitation' is perfectly natural. Just between you and me."

"Sometimes I feel like...how do the humans say it? A lab rat. The only humans who really saw me as me were my Red Squad mates. Otherwise, I was a novelty."

"You keep saying humans did this. You didn't have this experience with members of other Federation races?" he asked. Vulcans, Deltans, and Bolians could be just as curious about new species as humans were, in his experience. And he imagined the Andorians and other Federation races would be equally as interested in a race of such mental acuity and composure as the Tarkannan.

Narrowing her eyes, Mor'an leaned back and studied Brayden. "I did not say that. I make references to the human race, yes. Is it not a given that other races are interested in mine? I am speaking to a human, am I not? Were I speaking to a Betazoid, it would be different."

She had, actually, he thought. 'Why can humans never accept something for what it is?' 'The only humans who saw me as me...' He'd found a sore point for the woman, that was clear, but he didn't want to upset her. He wanted to find a way to help her deal with something that would probably continue to happen to her until the Tarkannan fully integrated with the rest of the Federation. "I didn't mean to imply anything. My intention was to understand the extent of the circumstances you've experienced in order to help you navigate a means through which to navigate them in the future."

Mor'an had had enough words. She sat motionless as Brayden spoke his last piece, but did not respond when he finished. He was agitating her, not actually understanding anything she was saying. She closed her eyes and stayed quite.

Maybe they weren't as patient as Ansen thought they were, Brayden thought, considering the woman in front of him. Or as different from humans as he'd thought. Then again, it wasn't fair to make a sweeping generalization. It wasn't all Tarkannans sitting in front of him making a show of shutting him out; just the one. Brayden always found this sort of behavior disappointing in adults. In children, it was funny: 'I can't see you, I can't hear you, you're not there.' It was a game. A test of wills and willfulness. But in adults, especially Starfleet officers, he found it rather disheartening. If these were the bright lights that led the way to understanding new life and new cultures, they would need more patience and more of a willingness to communicate and adapt than he'd seen. He braided his fingers, rested his chin on his hands, and waited silently.

A few moments passed in which neither of them said a word. "It is not what you are thinking," Mor'an said finally, barely above a whisper, "Silence to a Tarkannan is the greatest balm known." She opened her eyes briefly to ensure that Brayden was listening, and than closed them again. "Most races, not only humans, think that everything must be solved with words or actions." She breathed deeply, calm for the first time since everting the office. "I am content to wait with you in companionable silence until the timer runs out."

'And yet here you are, telling me that,' he thought. Brayden sighed, "Mor'an... you expressed a frustration that many of the people you've met since you left your home world have seen you as a lab rat, failing to see you for who you are in lieu of their general - and probably mostly incorrect - understanding of your people. Do you think it's fair to say you may have equally generalized impressions of the other Federation races?" he asked gently. "Humans don't think that everything must be solved with words or actions. At least, not all of us do. I certainly don't. But as far as communication goes, that's what we - as a race - have to work with."

Mor'an opened her eyes. "All I know of the Federation is what I have been taught. I have not lived with any of them for more than three years, and even then it was only within the Academy. If I generalize a race, I do not mean to, as I know others do not mean to do to me. Am I not allowed to be frustrated when I am one of the only 'lab rats' in the Academy? True, I know I should not be. Or, if I am, to control it. But I am still being trained in many ways, both in the Academy and within my race. Forgive me for anything false I have said."

"There is no need for forgiveness," Brayden shook his head. "And of course you're allowed to be frustrated." Hadn't he said as much? He was sure he had. He looked at her for a long moment, chin still resting comfortably on his hands. "You're especially allowed to feel, say, and do whatever you want while you're in this office. Well-" he smiled a little. "Short of causing either of us bodily harm." He lifted his brows. "I don't know enough about your culture to be able to give you advice from that perspective. I wish I did, because I want to be able to help you. What I can tell you is that, in my limited experience, you're fully entitled to any reaction you experience. That's part of living. Where your willpower and choice comes in is what you choose to do with that reaction. Whether the emotion that comes with it is the one you want, or whether you elect another emotion in its stead. That's up to you. But it's not a matter of 'should not'. It's your choice, your experience, and yours alone. In one human's opinion."

"I am going to say something that I did not know I was going to say." Mor'an grinned in an almost child-like way. "Thank you. I did not know I felt any of this until you pushed me. I never stopped to think about it. Because we are such a calm people, sometimes we...well, I do not even realize that I have these feelings because they are hidden. It takes someone like you to draw them out of me, and for that I thank you."

Brayden wasn't entirely sure that being thanked for reminding someone they were dissatisfied was really a good thing. It was one of his least favorite parts of his job, but it was important for crewmen to see themselves accurately. Otherwise, they weren't in a position to gauge their abilities in given circumstances. Self-deceit could lead to devastating consequences for more than just the individual. "The question becomes: how do we work on resolving them?" he said gently. "How do you want others to see you?"

"We will not resolve anything," Mor'an said, "I will resolve whatever I must. This is not something you can aid me in, despite what you may think. Del'an, if anyone, is the one who can help me. I will be fine."

"I'm sure she can," he agreed. "Out of curiosity, what exactly is it that you think that I think?"

Mor'an raised an eyebrow. "You are a counselor, are you not? Is your duty not to help someone when they have something to resolve? If the answer to that is yes, and I have something to resolve, what then is the conclusion? It is your duty to help me."

"It's both my duty and my wish, but that isn't the point. You said that I couldn't, despite what I might think. I just wondered what I think and where I'm wrong."

Slowly, almost regally, Mor'an stood. "Your mind cannot comprehend the mind of a Tarkannan." She turned and left the office with nothing more than a dip of her head in farewell.

Brayden idly tapped his finger against his knee as the woman left, as the door closed behind her, as ten, then fifteen minutes passed and the timer finally chirped. "Well," he said to himself, sighed, and lay down, stretched out in front of his desk. "That was interesting."

[OFF]
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Brayden White Ph.D. (pNPC Kestra Orexil)
Counselor
USS Galileo

Cadet Senior Grade Im'er Moran
Red Squad Cadet
USS Galileo

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