Instinct

Posted on 29 Jan 2013 @ 11:53pm by Lieutenant Jacob Pendleton

1,498 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Episode 03 - Frontier
Location: USS Galileo: Observation Lounge
Timeline: MD1 1450 Hours

ON:

Most of the staff had dispersed following the meeting, leaving the observation lounge of the Galileo empty except for the diplomatic officer and the new research officer. Pendleton, Liyar's perfunctory eidetic memory informed him from within. It had been a while since he'd heard the Inner Voice. It was a familiar break to an otherwise tedious day. He remained seated, tapping his fingers against the PADD in his hand for a few minutes, allowing himself the briefest of movement before quelling it under the powerful biological control the Vulcan brain was capable of. Bio-controls or not, akathisia was making him tense. He supposed that was the point of it. It was a side effect, one that could not be easily mitigated. Liyar kept himself focused on his PADD, and turned the program to a mathematical equation he'd been puzzling over, drawing it out, the drone and mind numbing qualia was a way to distract himself from the cage in his head. Even if it was slower, irritable, prickly. He stood, pushing his chair back to scrape against the deck plating and left it out, snatching the PADD and striding over to the window, leaning against the rail to observe the stationary, static space outside where they were docked. He didn't appear to notice Pendleton at all, or if he did, he was ignoring him.

Jacob had not left the lounge as he preferred to stare into the stars with his thoughts. His attention turned to the space itself. It wasn't huge but it was large enough that if he ever wanted to have a jam session with other musicians or other social events, they could be had here. Soon his eyes came across the Vulcan lieutenant; quickly doing a search on his PADD of the ship's crew he soon came across: "Diplomatic Officer, Lt.(jg) Liyar," it read.

He looked at the man for a moment and decided that he needed to start making friends, acquaintances and such aboard this ship sooner or later so he got up, stretched a bit (as the chair was again a mite too small as most were) and walked to the window next to where the man was standing. He looked out the window and then said in his usual deep but soft voice, "Well, a press corps here. Why does my gut feeling tell me this isn't going to go well." He continued to stare back at the stars to see if a conversation would start.

It didn't. At least, not right away. Liyar just kept on staring out into the void, a strange glassy look in his eyes reflected against the space outside as though he were not all there. And he wasn't. At least, not right now. Part of him was squirreled away, a piece of his katra that he'd holed and buried and tucked beneath the tiniest corners of his mindscape he could find, the one place he could always go back to from Within, and it was a nice refuge about now. Staff meetings. Medication. People arguing over semantics. People arguing over semantics while also arguing over irrelevant points. Of course, one of those people had been him. He didn't fret on it too much. What is it like to be a Borg? the Inner Voice was cautiously contemplative. If and only if there is something that it is like to be that organism-something it is like for the organism... the braintube reminds him in a stuffy, bored academic tone. Billions of voices. One goal, one purpose. Would it be nice? Would it be less lonely? Liyar shook himself out of the dusty corner in his brain and blinked slowly, coming back to his eyes. Maybe it was a second. Maybe it was a minute. Pendleton still stood to the spot. Press corps. Press. Media. Why does my gut feeling tell me this isn't going to go well? It echoed in Liyar's head. It was a person. Talking to him. Pendleton was talking to him. Right. Liyar turned and leveled his blank stare at the tall man. "It will go as it goes," he replied in his even, if somewhat accented tones.

"Yeah, I get that," Jacob replied, "But I do not want others not trained like we are, not prepared like we have been through Star Fleet to have to go through horrendous occurrences if they come." He stared out a a star cluster then looked over at the man. He extended his hand in respect and said, "Lieutenant Junior Grade Jacob Pendleton. Pleasure to meet you sir."

"Regardless, kaiidth," Liyar replied solemnly, in the stern tones that were generally always associated with the Vulcan race. He blinked down at the hand and rose his own in the Vulcan ta'al. "Liyar." He dispensed with rank and position, offered another cursory glance at the giant, before returning to the window.

Jacob nodded and remembered well some of his acquaintances who were Vulcan at the Academy. "Well Liyar," he said, "As my Brothers would say, 'So Mote It Be' and I hope that this mission goes without much incident. I has been a pleasure talking to you sir. Have a good afternoon and evening." Jacob took a good look out the window and then walked away towards the room's door as he thought to explore the ship further.

Liyar waved a hand dismissively as the man turned to walk out, but he broke the silence just before Pendleton hit the door. "You believe this mission will be horrendous." He repeated the word blankly.

Jacob stop and turned, walked back and replied, "I know that Vulcans probably don't believe in 'gut instinct' but my 'instinct' is saying something else." He looked at Liyar, "Not that my 'instinct' has always been correct but it's been more correct than not. Regardless, I will prepare for either outcome and let's hope that our press corps friends can say the same." His voice did not hold fear, dread nor dark foreboding; he said it plainspoken and without reservation as was his usual demeanor, his "schtick" if you will.

"I see," was all the Vulcan responded with, either oblivious to the man's 'gut feeling' or ignoring it entirely. The man wasn't really correct. Vulcans could and did use intuition. Liyar often wondered why people believed otherwise. Vulcans were sentient and individualistic beings like any other. The concept of logic did not preclude the ability to trust one's senses, especially for a psionic race. And as a psi-native, Liyar had frequently been given to bouts of instinct, up to and including the awareness that something had been wrong in the aftermath of the Sienna mission even when others had blatantly ignored his attempts to warn them. "As you say," he offered blandly. "Preparation is logical."

Jacob nodded. "My father always taught me to be prepared at all times and plan for the worst situation. I am grateful for that education." Jacob's mind went back to the days on the farm; his dad showing him how to handle and clean a weapon, what berries and mushrooms you can eat or not, how to can food and make jerky, and to create a 'survival' pack which held emergency supplies and equipment. A slight smile crossed his lips as he remembered fondly those days.

"A reasonable precaution," Liyar granted absently. He didn't realize he was largely repeating himself, still focused on the window in front of him.

"Well again, our training, our preparations through the things we have learned and still continue to learn keeps us ever vigilant, and that is the expectation that the Federation demands of its 'star voyagers', and that is what concerns me about these Press Corp folks. Are they ready for possible danger? Are they prepared? Have they taken their own precautions?" He paused, "I surely hope so."

Liyar arched an eyebrow. "It is logical to assume that they are proficient within their field," he pointed out. "A press contingent will not be comprised of simple reporters. They will possess the necessary field training to come aboard a starship. Whether or not they are adequately prepared for a scenario such as combat is irrelevant. A reporter is a civilian, as are many aboard this vessel."

Jacob looked at Liyar, "As I said, I sure hope so. Civilian or no, this is not going to be a mission for the faint of heart in my opinion." He sighed, "Well Mr. Liyar, I haven't even had time to adorn my quarters with my stuff and such things. I am glad to have talked with you sir. I hope the rest of your day is a good one. Be well." He bowed slightly and turned once more tend to his own agenda.

OFF:

Lt. (jg) Jacob Pendleton
Chief Research Officer
USS Galileo

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

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