All Dressed Up

Posted on 30 Dec 2012 @ 1:38am by Lieutenant Jared Nicholas

3,946 words; about a 20 minute read

Mission: Episode 02 - Resupply
Location: USS Galileo: Lounge
Timeline: MD15 2300 Hours

ON:

Jared was seated in the ship's lounge. He had arrived a few days before and checked in with his department head. He'd been assigned Beta shift which suited him fine. He was done for the day and had worked a double shift so he didn't have to report in for two days. So he was taking this time to relax.

He had a small bowl of hamburger stew and bottle of White Merlot in front of him. He had, had another one of his nightmares the previous night and was planning to drink the entire bottle of wine, it was the real thing not synthehol, in order to hopefully keep it from happening again that night.

They were due to leave soon. The stars were glittering outside the viewscreen, bright in Vega IX's sky.

In his quarters, Liyar depressed the rest of the hypospray into his carotid artery and disposed of the unit in the reclamator, turning and leaning against the railing outlining his window. He felt the welcome blankness over his mind, reinforcing his shields and making the drone on and on of the minds around him still.

He stood, and swiftly exited through the doors. He had no particular destination in mind. Maybe the observation lounge. Or the officers' lounge. No one ever used that place. It would be empty. He entered the turbolift and came upon the officers' lounge. There was no one in the halls. Fortunately.

There was no reason he was here, mostly because it was empty, and it was someplace not-his-quarters. He strode through the doors, and nearly turned and left at the sight of another individual at the bar. He was not in the mood, as the Terrans would say, to talk to anyone.

A holographic bartender popped up, shattering his illusions that he could disappear without incident. "Lieutenant! What can I get you!" it cheerfully asked. Liyar resisted the urge to grit his teeth. Instead, he stoically swept past the bar and the other attendee, heading toward the back window.

Jared noticed the Vulcan and there was something familiar about him. He sat his bowl down on the table and walked towards him. "Excuse me," he said as he approached.

Liyar turned. Barely. His eyes hardly glanced at the shorter Terran. With the most infinite patience he could muster up, he asked, "Yes. What do you require." The question (which it is, despite the harsh clippedness of tone) was terse. He was clearly pulling up the entirety of his Vulcan comportment.

Jared took a step back. Clearly this Vulcan was just as non-Vulcan as Rhiell. "Excuse me sir," he replied with more of an edge to his voice than he meant, "You remind me of someone I know. I didn't mean to intrude."

Liyar turned his head slightly, taking the Terran in for the first time, demeanor unchanging. He took a while to parse exactly what the ensign meant (he has not reminded anyone of anything, and he has never spoken to this person before, but he realizes it is a mnemonic reference, not a past event). His curiosity was probably the trait that got him in the most trouble. "'Remind you'." He repeated it blandly. "Of whom?"

"Of a man I used to serve under when we were both in the, uh private sector. He too was a Vulcan," he was about to add with a short fuse, but thought better of that little addendum. "His name is Rhiell."

That gave Liyar pause. Surely he could not mean Rhiell maat'Niram. But the image that he saw of the blond Vulcan male was unmistakeable. The last time he'd seen or heard of Rhiell, he'd taken off Vulcan's surface with an old style ship, looking every bit Sharivok's son. Was this one of Rhiell's crewmembers? Why was he in Starfleet? Rhiell was not known for his liberal ideology. Another blink. "Rhiell is V'tosh ka'tur. It is beyond my purview to acknowledge such a comparison." It was a curt rejoinder, but it confirmed one thing: he knew of Rhiell, at least. His opinion did not seem high. He folded his hands in front of him, and stared out the window, shrouding himself in calm.

"You know he used to look out the window with almost that exact same expression, that kind of pensive 'I'm a Vulcan that's not a Vulcan so leave me the hell alone' look." Jared wasn't sure if he was pushing his luck, but he had never been one for social niceties.

Liyar glanced over at him again. "I beg your pardon?"

His left brow quirked, "All due respect sir, but I've seen that look before a hundred times if I'd seen it once. Rhiell would just come right out and say it though, he was never one for following those kind of things."

"I would not expect proper decorum of my cousin," Liyar said. He rarely knew what went on in the minds of the V'tosh ka'tur. They were to be avoided. Courting the madness like that. It was death. It was insanity. There were reasons. No matter. He would not get into an existential debate with some child.

A subtle change came over Jared, his eyes shifted to a darker slate gray. He could not help but pick up on some of the thoughts from Liyar, he was after all making no attempt at masking them. His voice lost some of its warmth. "Your cousin is a good man Lieutenant. He is not insane, and I am not a child."

Liyar broke away from the window. His shields were, as always, fully operational. This person had broken through them. Deliberately or not, he wasn't certain. Almost like drawing a watertight compartment down over a flood, the flow of his thoughts immediately stopped. These were the inner shields, the ones he'd been taught since birth to protect his core. "I suggest you familiarize yourself with the Shi'kahr Convention. I have no interest in my cousin, or his kin."

"Your cousin saved my life and that of 12 of my friends from a life of... from a life of something far worse than death. You'll forgive me if I defend him and his name." His voice was getting lower and lower, a sure sign of his stress and mounting anger. He took a breath to center himself. "I apologize for my rudeness, however. Perhaps we could just start this conversation over."

Liyar's expression didn't waver. It conveyed imperiousness and irritation, even while placid. "'Start over'?" he finally inquired, genuinely curious. "It is possible for instances of quantum displacement to arise which would precedent such an occurrence, but I do not believe it is wise to attempt inducing one."

Liyar's comments caused Jared's anger to break and even brought a smile to his face. "I did not mean that in a literal sense, what I meant was perhaps we could restart our conversation as though we had not started this one off in the wrong manner."

"I see." He didn't. But he had learned that phrase was more of an acknowledgment than a genuine understanding. "I am unfamiliar with this social convention," Liyar admitted flatly. The exact thing he'd been trying to avoid (for some reason, like walking straight into the officers' lounge is somehow an avoidance of people) was happening. Resigning himself, he blinked slowly. "Perhaps it is best if you begin," he said, almost warily.

Having put his shields on full, he missed that Liyar did not really understand. "Sure," he replied, "I am Ensign Jared Nicholas and I'm new to the ship. Would you care to join me in a drink, or share a meal with me."

"Liyar." The Vulcan rose his hand in the ta'al momentarily. Athlen's voice drifted in his head unbidden. It's important to connect with people. That is your role on this ship. It isn't Vulcan. Meals are common bonding experiences, between nearly every dynamic imaginable. Liyar suppressed a very un-Vulcan sigh. "As you wish." He could not understand the Terran preoccupation of eating and conversing. On Vulcan, eating was always done in ritual silence. Despite sharing in a few meals over the past two weeks, the concept still unsettled him. On Vulcan, food and drink were often symbolic, important in establishing very specific social contracts. On top of this, he had no appetite for anything, especially now. Nevertheless, he gestured toward the unoccupied rows of chairs and tables. He doubted Rhiell of all people stressed the importance of Vulcan ritual. Though, he could be mistaken, as Rhiell was as desert bred as the rest of them, if not moreso.

His inner thoughts reflected nowhere on his face, which remained emotionless and blank. He sat in the chair indicated by Nicholas, putting down the small tray he had procured which contained only a small bowl of soup and water.

Jared resisted he urge to ask him if that was all he was having. True he could not read the man's expression, knew nothing of his thoughts, but while he and Rhiell were bookends, or opposite sides of the same coin, they were both, no matter how much differently they 'wore' it, still Vulcans and cut from the same cloth. He decided to try to show some empathy for the Vulcan and so he replicated the same soup his guest was eating, only adding a few biscuits lathered in butter. He even chose water to drink. "What is your position on board?" he asked.

The Vulcan was silent for many moments, pausing to eat a little. It was, after all, logical to consume nutrition. Or something. "I am the diplomatic officer." For some reason, people tended to find that funny. He could not see the humor in it. He was, in fact, a little bit better at conversation than he was letting on just yet, so he returned the question which he had learned was polite. "Yourself?"

Not missing a beat and not letting his face show his surprise he said, "I am the new language specialist, quite talented orally. Would you prefer to switch to Vulcan?"

"No." Liyar certainly did not want to hear his language butchered by another Terran, thank-you. Besides, even if this one was a telepath, Miri'kahr gotavlu took the formative years of one's life to master. Modern Golic wasn't any better on him than Standard, at least not when it came to the Shi'kahr Convention. He might as well speak Pig Latin. He wondered why the boy copied his eating habits. He thought to himself that he might have been more harsh than intended. It wasn't Nicholas's fault he was in such a foul mood, so he let out a breath and gestured vaguely with his spoon, speaking in informal Modern Golic. "Storilau."

"Well this is my first assignment, I'm new to Star Fleet, but I was born in space. So some things will be new to me and others I'm more experienced with. How long have you been serving as a Diplomat?"

Continuing in Vulcan, Liyar answered, "Three months off-world." Which explained his attitude. "My previous experience was in the V'Shar, planet-side."

"Well sir, one would never know you are so new to your profession. You are the consummate professional. Perhaps this is not the most appropriate question for you, but do you enjoy your job?"

Liyar blinked. "Enjoyment is an emotion. As a Vulcan, I control all emotion with strict discipline." He rattled it off as if simply discussing the weather, eating another bite of soup. He expected, however, that the ensign was engaging in sarcasm, considering their initial interactions.

Jared gave him a wry smile as if to say, 'Really?' What he said was, "Fascinating."

"That is one interpretation." That sarcasm had, unfortunately, gone over Liyar's head.

"And what would your interpretation be?"

"Kaiidth. It is our Way, as it must be." Liyar's conviction wasn't present in a determined, angry sort of way. Instead, he stated it like it was an every day fact, such as he had brown eyes or bled green. As if it didn't even occur to him to consider another way. "Do you possess an alternate interpretation?" he asked, with the same tone he might have given a pre-kahs-wan child.

Jared's Vulcan was very good, perhaps one of his best languages since he had spent so much time perfecting it with Rhiell and the crew of his former ship. Whether it would measure up to Liyar's standards was of course up for debate.

"Well, if we are going to be totally honest, then I would have to say that many Vulcans are hypocrites. One of your bedrock principles is Infinite Diversity, Infinite Combinations. The basic concept if I understand it is non-judgment of varying preferences. Which means that there should be an understanding and acceptance of those who hold a different view between the balance between logic and emotions."

Liyar listened, pausing to dip his spoon into the soup and eat. While he previously had a less than enthusiastic air, he seemed tuned in with more equanimity, posture straight and expression calm. He simply inclined his head. "Continue."

"But on one hand you have your cousin Rhiell and on the other you have yourself. The two of you are 180 degrees apart in your views, both think you are right and I would wager that you are both too stubborn to see that your position is right. I'd also bet that if the two of you got in a room together you would argue ad nauseam about which of you was right."

"Correct," Liyar said with an unapologetic eyebrow arched in his direction. He wasn't sure why the ensign was stating something obvious, and he continued to eat his soup. After a while, he spoke. "IDIC means respecting differences. It does not mean agreeing with them. All Vulcans are separate, sentient individuals. We have our own opinions, thoughts, and yes, emotions. IDIC dictates that I afford Rhiell respect. As a sentient being. As someone who is Vulcan, who is part of the Greater Consciousness. As my kinsman. This I do without reservation. But as Liyar, a separate being, I disagree with his values, and his choices. This is my right. Vulcans are not born with an inherent set of ethical behavior. It must be shaped, taught, and calculated on one's own. Each Vulcan's interpretation of ethical constants will be different, despite the Greater Consciousness. Therefore, it is up to each Vulcan to choose what they believe is right and wrong. Failing to account for ethical incorrectness where it must be accounted for is illogical."

"I understand that, which was my point. You asked me about interpretation as if there was only one."

Liyar looked at him. "Negative. I simply asked you. There are always other interpretations. Whether or not they are correct," he said, pausing to eat his meal, though he had to consciously force himself to eat while in the middle of conversation, "Is another argument. I stated that your perspective is one interpretation. My own is far simpler. It is our Way. It must be. I believe my interpretation to be the accurate one. If I did not, I would alter my perspective." Vulcan efficiency, after all.

"Would you?" he questioned sincerely.

Tilting his head, Liyar nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Of course. Do you assume that I am somehow indoctrinated into this ethical set? That I do not have sufficient experience, understanding, or study, to draw a conclusion?"

"I'm not assuming anything. I am simply asking. Based on your attitude and our interaction so far, it is only... logical to inquire."

Liyar remembered for a moment the words Lieutenant Coleman had spoken to him before, about appearing condescending and arrogant. She had not been able to tell him why, and said it was too difficult to quantify. He blinked again and looked up from his soup. "My attitude?" he questioned, genuinely curious.

"Well, I will concede that I might my own might not have been the best either, but when I brought up your cousin your actions were, well not diplomatic shall we say."

"Why should they be? I disagree with him. He does not act with due decorum. He is dangerous. Or would you tell me that your ventures in the private sector," he repeated as though he knew exactly what Nicholas was referring to, "Were solely philanthropic?" He gave the ensign a pointed look. "He may have saved your life, but he is not some harmless baby animal. He is a predator, and makes no effort to check himself."

"Have you even spoken to him?" Jared asked trying to keep his temper in check. "If the two of you haven't talked, then you are simply acting from rumor and innuendo and that my dear Vulcan, is illogical."

Liyar was spending a lot of time giving this kid puzzled looks. "Of course I have spoken to him. He is my cousin."

"Were his actions solely philanthropic? Honestly, probably not. But what about the Federation? Can you tell me, with a straight face, that the Federation has always acted honorably? That they are without fault, or that their actions have never been mercenary?"

"That is a false syllogism," Liyar said, face very much straight. "You are comparing two entities that cannot be compared. You are attempting to compare one man, one captain, to the entire Federation. You are justifying murder, kidnapping and thievery by contrasting his behavior to that of the Federation. I should inform you that neither do I approve of the Federation's use of such tactics. Furthermore, I cannot comprehend why you refer to me as your dear," he repeated the word, which had much deeper and even romantic connotations than in Standard, "When you do not view me very favorably at all. This juxtaposition is most peculiar." This was added almost as an after-thought, with the added sense that he felt he was missing something in translation.

Jared silently counted to ten in Romulan, before continuing, fearing if he did not do so, he would explode. A conversation with Liyar was much different than one with Rhiell, though he found both men could be irritatingly stubborn.

"Rhiell is no Boy Scout, if you understand the colloquialism, he may cut corners and is some cases push the envelope of what some would consider proper. And yeah some of the cargo we carried was not always labeled properly. However your accusations of murder, kidnapping and thievery against him are both groundless and asinine. They show you listen to and believe rumors with checking the facts. I thought Vulcans weren't supposed to do that. As to calling you dear, it is simply a Terran term. It has no romantic connotation in your case, though it might be what a counselor calls transference. You know transferring my feelings for Rhiell to you. I believe that followers of a certain ancient Terran psychologist might call it a Freudian slip."

This time, the look went from logically-puzzled to logically-do you honestly believe what you are saying? "I do not understand the colloquialism. Nevertheless, my cousin was on Vulcan for many years. He is family. We share a mental link. All Vulcan families do. I assure you, there is no accusation occurring in this conversation. He has killed. He finds no reason to cease killing. He has stolen. He finds no reason to cease. You and those you were rescued with were minors under Federation law. That he kept you on board his vessel rather than return you to familial or Federation care was a violation of this law, under the clause of kidnapping." He blinked at the boy's remaining assessment. "I suggest you transfer your feelings elsewhere," he said, coldness returning to his tone.

A few choice phrases burned their way through his consciousness, but he had the presence of mind not to speak them out. He was however unable to keep his face from flushing with anger.

His voice dropping an octave and lowering in volume as it always did when he was truly angry he said, "My family was all dead. There was no one to return me to. As for the Federation, I was sixteen at the time and could have gone anywhere if I had wanted to."

"Incorrect. You were a minor, and accountable under Federation law as such," Liyar repeated himself again.

"He was not holding me against my will. Rhiell was not kidnapping me, he was protecting me." He paused then stood up pointing his finger in the Vulcan's face and purposely invading his space without physically touching him.

"Irrelevant," Liyar continued calmly, undaunted. He took a bite of soup, remaining seated. "It is still a violation of the law. You were a child, and unequipped for the life Rhiell undoubtedly exposed you to."

"I was an Orion sex slave. I was forced to do things you could not imagine and certainly you could not endure. Not just once or twice but every day for three years. I watched my two brothers die. One of them took his own life because he couldn't take it. Do you know what it is like to be some prize for the highest bidder? Do you know what that is like for an adult to have to handle, much less a 13 year old boy?!"

"Irrelevant," Liyar repeated coolly. Of course, he had referred to that on the basis of it being an argument, not on it's own, but his expression didn't change, nor did he elaborate any.

"Before you go judging Rhiell, you best know all the facts, not just the ones that are convenient for your pet theory."

"As I continue to state, it is not theory. Theory implies lack of evidence. I have no interest in debating Rhiell's merits with someone who idolizes him beyond all logic." Throughout the conversation his own temper was held massively in check, though he decided it was time to end this little debate when he realized a mere child was causing that reaction. Having someone defend Rhiell to him, the one who had to put Rhiell's brother back together again after... It was infuriating in a way that made him want to curl his hands into fists. Rhiell may have taken Sharivok's punishment, but it did not excuse his own. Instead, Liyar continued to train his gaze upward, face without any trace of emotion. "Do you have any further input on this matter?" he asked, the sentence drop-off in Vulcan tone indicating that the conversation was closed.

"No," Jared replied tersely. He was on the verge of decking the arrogant Vulcan in front of him. It had been the dismissal of what he had suffered as irrelevant that had been the final straw. He turned on his heel and strode out of the room.

Alone at last. Though now, Liyar reckoned he was worse off than when he'd started. So far, a midnight walk was not doing his Control any new wonders.

OFF:

Lieutenant (JG) Liyar
Diplomatic Officer, VDF/SDD
USS Galileo

Ensign Jared Nicholas
Language Specialist
USS Galileo

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