Mens Agitat Molem

Posted on 17 Jan 2013 @ 11:30am by Lieutenant Lilou Zaren

3,553 words; about a 18 minute read

Mission: Episode 03 - Frontier
Location: USS Galileo: Multipurpose Laboratory
Timeline: MD -01 1130 Hours

ON:

There were only a couple of multipurpose labs in use on the Galileo, so logically Liyar knew that he couldn't reserve one at every opportunity he needed it. Though he had reserved this one, it wasn't surprising to realize it was still occupied by the time he arrived. Had he still been on Vulcan, it might have irked him, but he'd come to grow used to the haphazard ways of the crew. They were always doing something, and they never had enough time to finish doing it. Instead, he unceremoniously entered through the doors, blinking at the loud whomp and boom! coming from the back of the room, which had been turned into an essential testing facility. All of the usual components were off to the side to make a large enough space for, he recognized Ensign Peers, to do whatever it was... that she was doing. He stopped and watched her curiously, not able to begrudge her the time she was using. She appeared very enthralled in it as well, with goggles over her head, firing a phaser at something that looked like a shield attached to a mannequin. He could see the scribblings of notes everywhere, outlining schematics and mechanical details.

Instinctively he checked them in his mind, quantifying the data and attempting to parse it, run through the work. He stood watching her from the doorway, but the sound of it closing must have alerted her, and he stepped forward just as she turned around. He tilted his head at her from across the room, tucking the large panel under his arm that he'd been using to draw out a resource timeline for Miran's reserves, in lieu of the Romulan refugee camps he'd convinced T'Maile to begin integrating into proper society. The board showed rows of economic and mathematical calculations, trade designations, labor statistics, education statistics, military statistics and other, well, statistics. But he seemed much more interested in what she was doing than his own work for Severen while his father was indisposed. "What is it that you are doing?" the tall Vulcan asked.

Lilou had begun her work on the shield generator as a means of getting her mind off the obsessive compulsive deconstruction of the entire ship which had kept her awake and crazed since the departure. Tiny, tiny things to go wrong. That was all it took. Tiny, tiny things and her career was over. And everyone was dead. Almost everyone was. Not her. No, of course not. But the good people. The brave people. They were gone or injured. Missing arms. Because she'd sawed them off. She could still smell the blood, taste it in the back of her throat. And before she knew it the session in the multi-lab she'd reserved that had begun as scientific calculations and careful consideration had become a studied shooting range. Every shot spurred her deeper into her memories until she could almost see the faces cowering behind her shields. Her shields. And she wanted them to go down, just for a moment, just a flicker, long enough for her to get a shot through, but the damned things were working too well- Liyar's voice snapped her head, her entire body flexed and popped up like a cat being thrown off a table. It was luck that she managed to think for a split second and dropped the phaser on her spin towards the intruder, because her hand was leveled directly at him when she stopped.

A shiver rippled through her skin and she took a few shallow breaths, dropping her hands to her sides and straightening her shoulders. "Sorry," she cleared her throat gently. "You surprised me. I thought there was a sign on the door about phaser-fire..." She blinked twice, reorienting herself. "Ah... shield testing. Prototypes." She paused, "Sir."

Even with the cuffs around his wrists, the ones that felt like heavy weights instead of stabilizers, it was as if Lilou's forcible movement had thrust something tangible outward from her. A wall, adrenaline and fear and the beginnings of rage flew toward him. If it were real, it might have knocked him back, but instead it passed through, like a ghost. Liyar blinked calmly and inhaled, unconsciously rubbing his wrist as if to tell the psi-clamps that they were really not doing their job. He shuffled the board from under his arm and grabbed the drop-PADD he'd pulled from the lab door. "I did not witness any sign, Ensign. It is eleven-thirty hours. You have been utilizing this area for approximately thirty minutes over the requisitioned time. However, if you do not object to company, you may continue." He gestured to the other end of the lab, where the tables and terminals had been moved, and crossed over there to lay down the board over one of the counters after clearing it of its odds and ends.

"No, it's..." she shook her head, grabbing her PADD and checking the time. She'd completely lost track of time. Scanning the results on her PADD, she noted the fluctuation levels had been holding steady on all the shields. "I... apologize. I did not intend to overstay." She bit her lip, looking towards the door. She needed to go through the data, organize it, and compile it. She was getting closer, she knew that. But there was still something missing. She could do it in her office. "I'll leave you in peace," she said, beginning to gather her PADDs together. "It isn't that I object to company, or your company in particular, I only- you reserved the time; it would be unfair of me to take your space. Is there anything I can help you move back into position?"

Liyar blinked, watching her gather up her notes. He pointed at a few that lined the walls, as if she'd forgotten them, and picked up the desk in front and began lifting it back with the typical strength one would expect from a Vulcan. He replaced the desk near the side of the room and stuck his own board on the wall, leaning over the desk and bringing up the first statistical overlays. "Your shield," he said absently, switching a cluster of data from one side of his board to the other. Unemployment approximately 1.5%. Unsurprising, a .5 decrease in Vulcan job stakes, he would get the flak for that, no doubt. He wrote in the side-pad, integration-work, shadow-assignment, possible military service, university and/or secondary, tertiary educational implements, compensatory... he wrote down some graphs from memory and spoke blandly again, as if off-hand. "The data you have provided, indicates the level of fluctuation per directed energy impact is within acceptable parameters. This is why your shields hold." He turned around, picked up the phaser that had fallen at his feet where Lilou dropped it and fired it at the shield. It held, just as it had, but Liyar pointed. "You see there." It was as if he hadn't been paying attention to his own work at all. "The distribution lags. The energy drops downward. It should flow outward, to the edges. Were someone to use this shield, they would find it highly arduous and possibly dangerous to accommodate if they lack the proper strength. Fluctuation upwards of 30 MPS," he calculated his last shot. "Dispersal median," he fired it again and calculated it mentally. "Lagging by at least ten miles per second." The energy shifted downward again. "It should be at least thirty-five point seven-two miles per second. Did you create this?" he tilted his head at it blankly. Whether or not he was approving couldn't be measured, as his expression was typically blank, but he seemed curious.

"Unfortunately," she admitted, chewing on her lip as she ran through his calculations in her head. "Thirty-five point seven-one," she added under her breath. "I've been working on the distribution, but the trouble is the coil. I can't get the right force build to stop the phaser up to setting level seven without using a repeating pyramid/torus coil. Not while keeping it a manageable size for portable wear on the arm. Not my arm, anyway. Maybe a giant's. So I'm locked into giving into more power versus longer stability. An outward flow of distribution would, of course, be ideal. But it would also put me in a position of having to lower the shield's capability to only level four phaser fire. That's not good enough. Not for Tactical teams."

Liyar nodded thoughtfully. "What is the shield composition?" he asked, approaching it and kneeling down to observe the components and its make-up. He pulled something out of the inner pockets of his robes, a small white sphere and tapped open. It extended and suspended itself in the air, showing a small grid pattern. He ran his finger over all four points of the shield. "It is possible you could utilize a modulated conductor shunt. Here, here," he pointed at the corners. "Twenty-five point five MPS, as it is, the energy turns downward, however the additional load weight could be made external to the primary component." He created a small diagram on the grid, standing up and waving his finger through it to come up with a rudimentary drawing, attaching circular nodes to the edges where he'd pointed before. "One for each side. That would compensate for the additional dispersal rate, and guide the field of energy outward. As a shunt, it would still require an above average level of handling... unless the energy were directly rerouted to the center mass, compensating for the required strength and increasing the stability of handling. Here, each individual node," he turned over the diagram to the back and added another circle, arching an eyebrow. "Depending on the composite materials," he amended.

"Yttrium/manganese/aluminum oxide," she said. "Mn2AlO3Y2. So it won't scald Vulcans, and others with high copper contents in the blood. May I?" she shuffled her PADDs and hurriedly typed out the geometric formula to show him the inner workings of the shield components. "With the modulated conductor shunt..." she bit her tongue, quickly tapping in the appropriate measurements to add into the schematic. "That would help with the dispersal rate, but it also increases the heat of the mechanism in use. Which means adding another level of heat syncing into the design... which is totally doable, just... not... elegant."

Liyar blinked, eyes tracking over the design. "Are you familiar with computer design circa 21st century?" he asked, separating the schematics and opening another panel in the grid section to bring up some old-style computer component layouts. "As we use plasma coolant to compensate for overheating directly within our technology, these computers had built-in components specifically designed to prevent the phenomenon. These are not wires, nor electrical components, however... the design," he tapped something again, "May be modified along similar parameters. Rather than add another level of heat syncing throughout the entire system, you could build a distinct cooling system directly into the center mass node. As the energy is rerouted, it reaches the node and is simultaneously cooled and dispersed. The only additional technology you would require would be a necessitated heat sink. In the case of your shield, an open-air end-shunt," he drew a circular design haphazardly at the back. "If you were capable of designing each node to hold the requisite level of information, your shield schematics should not be overly cumbersome. That is, it should not detract from workable design. As you pose it, elegance." Liyar finished his schematic postulation, tilting the grid forward for Lilou to inspect.

Lilou made a low humming sound in the back of her throat, eyeing the schematic. Slowly, she turned the grid with one finger, studying the possibilities from every angle. Twenty-first century design as a solution... She began to smile slowly, oh, she could work the nodes into the right compression. She was sure of it. She had it in her brain. The image of it. The math. She beamed at Liyar. "I could kiss you. I won't. But I could."

The Vulcan arched his eyebrows, tilting his head. "I assume that is an indication that you have solved the issue," he deduced, allowing her to keep the fereikek reh where it was while he approached his own board again. How to solve the issue in front of him, on the other hand, he didn't seem as facile with. The numbers were all there, and he knew they were right, but this involved something more than math. How to ingratiate a group of Romulans to a notoriously xenophobic community was, in his opinion, a highly tall order.

"It is," she agreed, watching him turn back to his board. "What is it you're working on?"

Liyar tilted his head back up at the board. "My province is host to a refugee encampment of Romulans. In the wake of the Hobus event. There has been some concern of their integration into the province. It is my job to rectify the situation, to benefit both parties. The numbers, here," he showed her the economic graphs and calculations. "Versus the speculation, which is a growing distaste for incoming Romulan work. I am attempting to solidify a plan so they may be both productive and they will not cause dissent among those who feel they are being taken from. In terms of the work, opportunities, et al."

"What sort of work is available in the province?" Lilou asked, perching on the edge of a table.

"A variety, as in any province. The concern is that they are detracting from the employable base of citizens who already live there. It is an illogical concern," he sighed. "But the province is very old, and traditional. We are unused to opening our doors to outsiders. I believe it is a consensus designed to push back the limits of Romulan interference. My attempt is to integrate both sections simultaneously. For instance, many of the Romulans have Galae experience. They could be useful in the V'Ket, or the V'Shar. A military contract would engender them favorably to Vulcan citizens, and in return, employment and hospitality for them." He looked at the numbers.

The foreign words flew right over her head, but she followed the rest of it. "Except in the minds of traditionalists, that's saying that you want to hand over weapons to a people who they've seen very distinctly as their enemy."

It was a good point. "A reasonable postulation," he agreed. "My intention was that logic would prevail. As my people are responsible for the widespread destruction of the Romulan Empire, I would -" have thought retribution to be an adequate motivation - he cut himself off, realizing that, maybe his people simply didn't care, at all. Maybe Miran really was the only area that actively took on these refugees, even then, were his own people as reluctant as the VSA had been? What had he said, it had been logical to withhold the red matter information, the numbers didn't lie. "They should not be considered our enemy. This should not have occurred at all. Now that it has, we have a duty to help them. If there is resentment over their taking jobs that may be delegated to our citizens instead, an understandable concern, that can be alleviated very easily. But if they truly believe such a thing, then we are..." he trailed off. In trouble.

Lilou looked at him, her eyes sad. "Should not doesn't seem to matter much when it comes to fear. Or anger. Not even when it comes to reasonable people."

Liyar shook his head, still scanning the projected outlines. "We are Vulcan. We are trained to avoid such influences. Fear, and anger. For them to influence decisions this way. It is antithetical to our beliefs." And yet, the numbers didn't lie here, either. The mathematics were dead on. The Consciousness was suffering. The waves of pain and distress that hole in their collective psyche was causing. It wasn't just affecting Tharin II, he knew it was destabilizing the Vulcan core as well. Responsibility, death, guilt. "But that is what we have done. And now we are faced with a reminder of why we must always Control. A reminder of what happens when we fail to do so. We cannot fail now."

The Trill studied her boots thoughtfully. "Whose idea was it to house the refugees in your home province?"

The Vulcan switched screens on the board and began writing a sequence of numerical equations, calculations, whether or not they were related to the problem at hand was elusive. "I wrote the initial proposal," he admitted with a nod. "My mother allowed its implementation. Now I must ensure that the project does not become an unmitigated disaster." Or else, recalling T'Maile's words, he'd have to find somewhere else for them. Tharin II was nearly collapsing under its own weight, it couldn't afford anymore refugees. He had wanted to create a space there, in Miran. It was, he felt, their duty. These were their brothers. It was their negligence that caused this. The colonies should not be collapsing under their own weight, failing to prosper and raided by passing Klingon ships. They should be on Vulcan, in Eridani. Resolved, Liyar continued writing, transposing the numbers to Vulcan equivalents instead, devolving into lines and lines of what looked like gibberish.

"Why?" Lilou asked quietly.

Liyar blinked, stilling his movements. "Why what?" he asked.

"Why did you think that was where they should go?" she asked. "Out of all the planets that they could have possibly gone to. Out of all the provinces. Why there?"

"Miran is within my sphere of influence," Liyar answered in what he felt was a perfectly logical explanation. "I had the ability to offer our assistance. Vulcan should participate in the reconstructive efforts. It is always logical to help where help can be given. We did this. We cannot ignore it."

"But it doesn't sound as though they're being logical. It sounds as though they're reacting and feeling. So... maybe you need to find a logical argument to compel their feelings to... see reason." She scrunched up her face. "Did that make sense out loud? It made sense in my head."

Liyar nodded. This lack of reason he found common to Vulcans when faced with the Romulan situation, he felt, was a result of the fact that quite simply they needed to heal from it. He did not know how to go about doing that, or even if it was possible. Beyond the Vulcans' reluctance was that of the Romulans themselves, who were highly distrustful and resentful as well in return. "It will be an eventual matter of remembering what it is that we as Vulcans stand for," he finally said.

"I've never met a Vulcan who didn't remember what you all stand for," Lilou said thoughtfully. "I've met a few who have trouble standing by what you all stand for. You're wired to feel; you choose to think. So do we. Or we try. You do it better, maybe, when you put your minds to it, but..." She ducked her head. She'd grown up on a research station, had never taken a sociology class in her life, and had trouble getting more than two people to stand her at the same time. No matter how much she'd have liked to help him, she didn't know enough. Not about his culture. Not about any of it.

But they could not change what they were. For those Vulcans who continued to espouse reason above all else, Romulus had been a rude awakening, a display of rationalized negligence, an assisted genocide, he thought to himself darkly. Of course, he knew he was biased. He had felt it happen, maybe that was why he was invested in it. There is no other wisdom, and no other hope for us, but that we may grow wise. The quote was unconscious, a simplistic, but effective metaphor. "I did not intend to interrupt you from your project," he said, turning to face her again.

"I did not intend to keep you from yours." She stood up again, gathering her prototypes into a box. "We're both working on shields, of a kind, aren't we?" She paused, considering her little mechanisms. They looked cold now, without the warm glow of the forcefield. "While we're supposed to be dreaming of a world that doesn't need them." She shut the box and tapped it twice with her forefinger. "I'm sorry I wasn't more help."

Liyar looked over, watching as she packed up and prepared to leave. He tactfully avoided the immediate response that came to mind. Vulcans do not dream. Maybe that was the problem in the first place. Instead, he merely offered her a nod. "There is no need for apology. Farewell, Ensign Peers."

"Farewell, Lieutenant Liyar."

OFF:

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

ENS Lilou Peers
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Galileo

RSS Feed