Lessons

Posted on 11 Dec 2012 @ 2:24am by Crewman Athlen
Edited on on 11 Dec 2012 @ 3:55am

2,690 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: Episode 02 - Resupply
Location: USS Galileo: Holodeck
Timeline: MD13 1000 Hours

Athlen wrapped the white tape around his knuckles a little tighter, bouncing on his feet as he went through the different levels of the hologram program. It was more advanced than his own level, but right now he didn't care. He was nearly snarling, enraged half-nonsense that only made sense in his head, and blood dripped down his forehead from the gash which formed after one of the holographic entities gave him a solid kick to the face. In the back, Liyar stood impassively, arms folded over his chest, head tilted.

Athlen's knuckles were bruised and equally bloody. "...Not only flying in the face of the same regulation he is relying on to support his cause, it sets a dangerous precedent aboard this ship allowing for blood feuds... OH YEAH, AND EATING OTHER SPECIES!" Athlen growled as he very satisfyingly broke one of the hologram's arms behind their back. Liyar appeared to be letting him rant. "Standing in a threatening manner," he repeated viciously, "Assault via BOWL OF SOUP, z'yr krath! Kre'nath!" the Rigelian swore bitterly.

"Nevertheless, it occurred," Liyar said with a lifted brow. "Kaiidth. The matter is settled." The capacity of Liyar's counseling abilities were, admittedly, sub-par.

He dodged another of his assailants' blows and twisted them, flipping them over to hear the crunch of bone as they hit the deck. The further along he got in the program, the more he seemed to devolve, cursing and raging to himself in the privacy of the sound proofed holosuite before his ramblings eventually began to encompass the real source of his frustration.

"It is my job to figure this out! It is my job to be understood," Athlen said, voice breaking out of frustration, "It is my entire purpose to fix this disaster on Rigel V and some jn'vak has to undo all of it .... ylrei! I am not incompetent! I am not stupid! I am not a barbarian, j'kahard!" Athlen reflexively kicked out and used a two-hand punch routine to take down his next victim. "He has no idea how hard I've worked!" he yelled angrily, slightly hoarse. The irony that his loss of control over being angry over his own loss of control and then the subsequent judgment of that loss did not go over his head. It just made him angrier.

"Crewman," Liyar said, stepping forward and halting the program just before a foot connected with the young sociologist's nose. Athlen whirled around, a mean grimace twisting his features. "You must calm yourself down. We all know what your intentions were. The only one in doubt is Lieutenant Stone, and he hardly possesses the diplomatic qualification to rend an accurate understanding on the matter."

Species eating species still rung in his head. He could see where that touched a nerve.

"Your anger is personal," he pointed out, trying for a more subtle tone than usual, but judging by the flash of rage in Athlen's eyes, it didn't really work. "There were errors on both sides. Your reliance on psionic cues, your phrasing, assuming that others will understand your emotionalism for what it is, instead of what it looks like to them. You now face the struggle I must contend with on a daily basis. Dealing with a psi-null species while relying on psionic cues in order to adequately function. The transition is," he paused, and settled on, "Not easy."

"He doesn't know barbarism. He's acting like I would have flipped over the table and jumped on you! He has no right to judge something he obviously has no idea about!" Athlen stewed, perfectly content in his fit instead of dealing with his own feelings.

"He does not have the ability to discern otherwise." Their positions were oddly reversed, but Liyar found he wasn't nearly as proficient a teacher. "Like most Terrans, he relies on what you say and how you say it as well as your physical actions to determine your intentions and your meanings. This is what you have taught me. He is not purposefully trying to insult you by misinterpreting you."

"Yeah, because what he said totally wasn't insulting at all!" Athlen fumed. "How do you handle it? I just - want - to make him - understand!" he said in between kicks. The stilled hologram toppled over.

"And you cannot," Liyar summarized knowingly.

Athlen groaned. "No! I can't! Okay, I get it. I get it," he conceded, because it was true, in a way he didn't really think he'd ever experience, because the t'an krila was such an integral part of his functioning that he just assumed everybody understood except they didn't--. He uncharacteristically floundered. "It just - I rely on words. This is my domain. I should know this, this should be second nature. This is my entire purpose. I can't mess up like this!" he slammed his hand against his thigh miserably. "Everyone is watching me, from all sides, I -" He pressed his hands into his face and swallowed.

Liyar stepped forward, uncertain what to do, or what was happening. "It cannot be expected to maintain perfection."

"I know, logically, he doesn't know anything, about me. He didn't even know about the Heran. It - feels like being under attack, like, I am being watched and judged, and not just - Starfleet. Councilor Vro contacted me too, he yelled at me about how I was misrepresenting myself, and I should have - made amends, made it clear - I can hear them in my head." He rolled his eyes. "The attempts to communicate were not successful, no bonds were formed, he is still hostile." He spat the word like a curse. "No, I'm not! I just need to be understood! I learned to communicate so I could be understood, I joined Starfleet for this reason because I thought--" He punched his hand into the wall, yelping in pain and ferocity.

"At your age, the Shi'kahr convention meant absolutely nothing to me." Liyar said, quietly. "I can assure you, you are not the first to experience such a wide cultural gap."

"This Lieutenant Stone, acts like Starfleet is a human organization, and that all of these things are just fringe cultural exceptions or something! I don't want preferential treatment, I want to be able to do my job!" he shouted, and then tried to breathe, sitting down with his head in his knees. "The southern hemisphere is so opposed to this, Liyar. You have no idea. The Federation took something from them. They're mad as anything. The younger generations... me, my peers, we understood the necessity - we could understand it. People like Vro," he shook his head, "It's a wound that can't be healed. The Federation laws, they make sense," he maintained, holding a hand out, "And our counselors acknowledge now that it has been beneficial to the newest generations - it would be like, if they marched onto Vulcan and -" he gestured.

"I comprehend the simile," Liyar confirmed. The thought was exceptionally disturbing.

"Maybe their way is better, but - you know?"

"Indeed."

"I've always been employed as a bridge, because I have always - understood both sides. That's - who I am, it's what I have always stood for. I can't - this shouldn't have happened. They -"

"Athlen. The cause was sufficient." Liyar sent a careful wave of calm through the air. "It is well acknowledged that familial ties keep Vulcanoids stabilized. Your emotions will take time to settle. If you are unduly troubled by this, you can always seek Lieutenant Stone out in the future."

"No. I mean - I don't know. I'm sorry, for what happened, all of it. I'm sorry, I wasn't clear, I'm sorry, I still - have those hangups." He laughed a little bitterly. "I never thought, I would. But, there it is. I'm not SORRY for being Rigelian," he said stubbornly, tipping his chin up. "I won't apologize for my species, I won't do it. We have just as much right to be in Starfleet as any member world. Why should I have to be the one to apologize?" he asked, and he sounded much younger then, almost petulant.

"It does not appear to me as though Lieutenant Stone is emotionally invested either way. I believe he simply did not comprehend the intent behind your words, that were easily visible to myself in lieu of afforded psionic capacity. As he does not possess this ability, your words and actions are his parameter of judgment," Liyar insisted.

"I know," the sociologist said, sighing. "I should know. It just - didn't even occur to me - you know? Why would it?" Liyar nodded. "It is so frustrating. Here he is going on and on about regulations and cultural exceptions. He is not the one who has to change his entire mode of perception just to function regularly, who is expected to do it. He is Terran and Starfleet --"

Liyar cut him off. "Is for everyone, Crewman. IDIC works both ways. Terrans will never have the psionic comprehension that we do. As they must acknowledge our methods, we must do the same. This is why t'an krila is in the Starfleet manual, why round-debate is under Tellarite jurisdiction, why the Federation permits ushaan-tor, and of course, our combats." The implication between them being the Vulcan Challenge. Athlen nodded. "I believe this incident best serves as a reminder to all of us what we must ultimately stand for."

"The way Vro was going on," Athlen said, looking at his knees, "I've irreparably messed up. He thinks that Starfleet are looking for an excuse to get rid of the Rhias, and that it is unsafe. He wants to pull them all out of the Academy. I've completely ruined everything."

"Athlen. Do you feel unsafe, here?"

The blond shook his head. "Not - no. No," he said again, firmly. "I believe in Starfleet. That is why I am here. It feels, as it's always felt, like - everyone really tries to be what they project, they try and - they try to live up to their ideals as best as they can. Even Stone. The Heran, though... we need a better solution to that," Athlen determined. "Being without it - felt like the most unstable, chaos I've been since I was found. I felt ready to kill. There's so many Rigelians who are kicked out of the Fleet because they get separated from it somehow. I looked over the statistics. It's unacceptable. There has to be an alternate way. Damn it," Athlen said, sighing, resting his chin on his hands.

"Then perhaps you can confer with Councilor Vro on this matter," Liyar suggested. "Explain to him your experiences in Starfleet. That the benefits outweigh the risks. Offer him your idea about the Heran. This event can be utilized to highlight your goals, rather than derail them."

Athlen nodded. "Maybe. This is all so petty," he grumbled. "Vro doesn't have the temperance of human contact, either. He's enraged, and happy to show it. You can't - you know? You can't be like that, not in Starfleet. He doesn't get that, so, to him there's the divide. That's, what we've always maintained. We're not Terrans, just because we express feelings and use contractions and grasp colloquial Standard, that doesn't make us Terrans." He came right out and said it. "Cry me a river, right?" Liyar looked puzzled. "But it's how I feel."

Liyar didn't know what to say. "You feel as though your cultural values are being overshadowed?" he asked, taking a seat on the bench near Athlen.

"I don't know. Not in that regard, I guess. Because I understand the necessity, I get that it's important to use Eri'tan'vri as a method of outlet instead of just, venting all over people. Emotional venting, is healthy for Rigelians, but it isn't for Terrans. Terrans operate so much differently, it's hard to see the other side. Terrans have all these boundaries, individualism. Their psychological disorders encompass people who cannot maintain adequate distance from others, who cannot control their impulses, outbursts. It bothers me, that I could be seen in that light. As mentally unbalanced. Hostile. The Terran standard is not a universal standard. We are not going to eat eachother or go into a raging blood feud just because we have differing mental health applications, Liyar!"

"Indeed not. I postulate it is much the same way as my disconnect between Standard and Miriahm gotavlu. One party is always severely missing the point of the other. Psi-null species cannot comprehend the difficulty I have in interpreting their words and expressing myself verbally, because they cannot conceive of the psionic component I rely on. People generally see and experience their own rendition of events. Most conflict arises out of misunderstanding. Neither of you intended to harm the other."

"I guess that is why you're the diplomat and I'm the sociologist," Athlen hedged miserably. "I want to apologize, but he'll just take it the wrong way." He frowned. "Like I said, I am sorry for it all. But... you know. I don't want to give the impression I think it's fine for him to just walk all over Rigel, or that it's okay to say insulting things like that."

"He may accept it, or he may not. You cannot control his behavior, Crewman. You can only control your own. It is a lesson that all Vulcanoids have marked difficulty in accepting." With shields down, his dry, firewood sense of amusement floated through just a little. "We are known for our will." He stood up, offering the ta'al in farewell.

The Rigelian nodded. "Thanks, Lieutenant. You know," he said, with a small smile, "Going to bat for me like that, you and Panne; that's not mathematical." He referenced their debate carefully, but without ire. "I'm only one person." He arched an eyebrow of his own.

"Indeed. Never doubt that I consider the individual value of others, Athlen. I strive for it to be a consistent motivating factor in my behavior. Perhaps it is not logical," he relented just a bit, "But it is so."

***
With Liyar gone, Athlen traipsed over to the computer module. He paced around for a while before finally coming to a proper conclusion on his own, and walked forward to bring up the intraship messaging system. He took his time to type a message he hoped conveyed what he meant. Without bothering to read it over, he hit send.

To Lieutenant Stone:

I sincerely apologize for my behavior both during the incident which you arrested me for and the following proceedings. It has never been my intention to deny my responsibility, though I am now able to see why you would draw this conclusion, as it has taken me some time to realize the extent of my own actions.

I was wrong. I assumed that all parties involved understood my motivation rather than stating my intentions clearly, and operated on the basis of this assumption instead of ensuring it was so.

P.S: Thank you for returning the Heran clasp to me during the proceedings as well. I recognize now that was a breach of protocol which was highly uncomfortable to you.

~Crewman Athlen thran-khash Rhias

 

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