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Posted on 11 Feb 2013 @ 2:19pm by Marine Captain Ray Fernandez (Ret.)
Edited on on 11 Feb 2013 @ 5:31pm

2,988 words; about a 15 minute read

Mission: Episode 03 - Frontier
Location: USS Galileo: Mess Hall
Timeline: MD3 0750

ON:

...or between the pour-soi and the en-soi. This is far from easy. Facts about what it is like to be an X are very peculiar, so peculiar that some may be inclined to doubt their reality, or the significance of claims about them. To illustrate the connection between subjectivity and a point of view, and to make evident the importance of subjective features, it will help to explore the matter in relation to an example that brings out clearly the divergence between the two types of conception, subjective and objective...

Liyar blinked at this newest postulation by Nagel on his PADD. He was sat over a replicated bowl of alien Something, listening-watching to the flux and flow of Consciousness around him made easier by the lack of medication in his system.

Even without the benefit of philosophical reflection, anyone who has spent some time in an enclosed space with an excited bat knows what it is to encounter a fundamentally alien form of life. [...] I am not adverting here to the alleged privacy of experience to its possessor. The point of view in question is not one accessible only to a single individual. Rather it is a type. It is often possible to take up a point of view other than one's own, so the comprehension of such facts is not limited to one's own case. There is a sense in which phenomenological facts are perfectly objective: one person can know or say of another what the quality of the other's experience is.

Despite the fact that he'd dissolved the effects some time ago after Meridian gave him the go-ahead it was still a little fuzzy. She had him thinking, though. He glanced back at the PADD. What is it like to be Liyar? he pondered with an inscrutable expression at the words. They did not yield any answers. The appointment with Meridian had forced him here later, so he knew his usual breakfast companions were at their shifts, the table in front of him one of the few remaining unoccupied. He leaned over and plucked up one of the yellow blobs of balkra on his plate with his chopsticks. The replicators just did not do a good job of it. He mused on that for a while, wondering why this was so. He often heard Terrans complain of the same thing. He turned the page on his PADD to the next argument, The Transporter Problem, oblivious to the presence of someone approaching his table.

Ray glanced at the Vulcan and sat down in the chair next to him. What looked to be balkra on the man's plate. "Is that what I think it's supposed to be..." Ray cringed visibly. "I'm not going to lie, that stuff always churned my stomach. "

Liyar stared up. At the person. In a marine uniform. Now a marine was talking to him. And criticizing his food choices. Admittedly, the criticism was somewhat well-earned. It really was an unpleasant rendition. He continued reading his PADD until he had finished the next paragraph (Does it make sense, in other words, to ask what my experiences are really like, as opposed to how they appear?...) and then flicked it off, setting it aside. "It is an approximation of balkra, yes," the Vulcan replied flatly. Approximation was the key word there.

Ray laughed at that. "That's a good word for it. Captain Fernandez, I'm Kiwosk's old Commanding Officer from the Fitzgerald, and seeing you're a Vulcan wearing purple, I'm going to assume you must be Lieutenant Junior grade Liyar."

Blink. Cyrus's commanding officer? Why was he on board the Galileo? Did Cyrus get transferred? Was Stone permanently revoking his assignment? That did not make any sense. He had just been approached a few days ago about a tactical response team. "I am Liyar," he confirmed, running through several more calculations in his head. MC+S=-. MC+C=+. MC+C-S+TRT-C?=-, +C,=... "You are here to assist Mr. Kiwosk," he finally deduced with an arched eyebrow.

"You catch on quick...for a Vulcan." Ray winked to show he was kidding and continued. "That's right, I'm here to train this team of his so they don't get vaporized by the first tractor beam they come in contact with. " He added in a lower voice, almost inaudible. "Though from the looks of some of the people he's grabbing I'd have to question that too."

"You are in doubt of their competence?" the Vulcan asked after swallowing.

"I doubt everyone's competence," he retorted bluntly. "I doubt the abilities of everyone I meet, especially the ones I'm going to train. Because out there," he gestured with his cane to the window on void nothingness, "On the field you have no one out there but men and women beside you that have proven themselves that they should belong there, and I do not except anything less than my expectations." He flipped his cane end of end to grab it in the middle, before resting it comfortably between his legs and the table.

"You expect others to prove themselves," Liyar pieced together the tangent into its main point. He rested his elbows on the table and pressed his fingers against one another, staring at them thoughtfully. He remembered for a flash Zurel, the man who trained his unit, standing before them and declaring, You will all fail to accomplish any task of significance. You will fail, and you will integrate failure. He supposed military conditioning was universal. Fernandez somehow reminded him of it. In Vulcans, it was natural, but at the same time, it grated against the inner nature. It wasn't bloodthirsty, not something wanted. It was night and day, the endless dredge. Pride, force of will, they were to be extinguished in the face of the Whole. Liyar had become intimately familiar with failure at the end of his advanced individualized training.

"Not just to me, but themselves. You can`t go out into a firefight, or have to repair a warp engine without having the confidence in yourself to do. Ninety percent of all failures happen due to a lack of confidence in your own abilities. If you don't feel like you can do the job put in front of you, than you've already beaten yourself, the enemy didn't even have to lift a finger." Ray sighed and spun the cane in his hands. "You understand yourself, you understand your limits..." He held up a finger. "You understand your limits, you can then challenge your limits and it's there, that moment....that tiny instant that you challenge your limits, that is where heroes, saviors and people of prestige are made."

"Coming back to your original point mister Liyar. Yes, I expect people to prove themselves and I expect them to realize inner strengths they never have. It's how I trained and how I fought in the Dominion War and that's how I train now. Starfleet doesn't need more officers...it needs people of distinction, people who constantly test the mettle of others and focus on how to achieve the objective, not sit around sipping Talarian tea and talk about how we can avoid causing more problems. That's why the Prime directive was invented. To avoid that. "

"I was unaware that the Talarians had developed a palatable tea," Liyar said, tilting his head. Talar, that was a planet he wanted to visit, although he would never admit it aloud. He'd been studying their culture and exports for months. Admittedly that was entirely left field of the topic. He was listening to Fernandez, though. The words rolled around in his head. He wasn't sure if he was being lectured at, they were having a discussion, or doing a comparative analysis. He could only offer his own experience. "On Vulcan, such a thing is learned through neurological command. The instinctive response to handling a weapon and engaging in combat is integrated on a sympathetic and parasympathetic level. The only emotional component of our training is in learning to suppress our nature, to develop the telepathic link of the unit to function as one. As you would term it, teamwork." A concept that Vulcans did not generally do well with, which was ironic, considering their more collectivistic leanings as a planet. A constant contradiction, an immense, overpowering will to master and dominate everything born into a vessel that wanted to connect with it all and blend into it.

"Trust me, it's not. " Ray replied blandly. "I learned about the neuro-logical command, it was essentially learning through the link you all would share. Trust me, if I had thought it a valuable option for humans, I would have jumped all over it. I liked the idea during the war, I like the idea now. Such is life." Ray grunted as he finally decided to replicate a cup of coffee and a bagel.

Liyar studied him as he got up and went to the replicator, thinking on what he'd said. As usual, the differences in their species stymied him. He returned to his balkra, forcing himself to eat another few blobs.

" So you've had some more-than-formal training back on Vulcan then?" Ray asked. "Seems odd for a diplomat, but then again so is taking a double voluntary demotion in order to keep flying around." He chuckled.

"Affirmative," Liyar said with a small nod. Double demotion. On purpose. He had heard that in Starfleet, the higher ranks were usually tasked with ground-based operations. He deduced that Fernandez was someone who preferred to be, as he had termed it, in the field. "I am a member of the V'Shar diplomatic envoy," he explained. "You no longer captain the Fitzgerald?" If he did, why was he here? Perhaps his link to Kiwosk was greater than originally defined.

Ray blinked. "Captain, god no. I was in charge of the Fitzgerald's Marine Department. It was Commodore Sturmgeist back then who was in charge of her. Later on it was Captain Ingram, but I never stayed on long enough to really learn about the man. Once the Fitz changed hands, I was done being the old timer on the ship, it was time for a change. Too many new faces, to few old ones. It was a sad time, at least for me anyways. " He shook his head slowly. " I was a Lieutenant Colonel, I guess it would equate to a Naval Commander, or Captain even. They wanted to ground me so I could help the stuffy heads in Starfleet plan out their tactics, but they refused to listen to me and my ideas, so I decided that I'd spite everyone and take two demotions so they would give me what I wanted." He winked. "And it worked."

"I see," Liyar replied.

He chuckled. "I wanted to be someone who would make a difference, after my wife left me, she took the kids too. All I had left was my job, so I was going to do the most with it. At the moment in time, the moment I retired as a Lieutenant Colonel, I was bogged down by so much red tape I couldn't do what I wanted to the most: Protect...and Serve. So when they realized I was serious about retiring they gave me a spot as an instructor at Academy Earth and reestablished me to the rank of Captain. "

" It would be logical to assign you to the task that you are most efficient at," Liyar agreed. "You work for Starfleet Academy now," Liyar repeated. "I confess I am unfamiliar with the phrase... red tape."

"You know, ' red tape'...uh." Ray thought hard. "Rules, or regulations, or rank that can impede people from doing things that could relate to their positions or help people under them. Starfleet didn't want to lose a Colonel, so they prevented me from continuing to travel on Starships."

"Bureaucracy," Liyar surmised in one word. Something he was intimately, and unpleasantly associated with. His research and calculations on the Romulans had enlightened him to that long ago. "Vulcans are not unfamiliar with the concept," he said, with a touch of dryness.

Ray smiled a small half-smile. "No I suppose you all aren't, and by the sound of it, you're talking from personal experience there. What happened with you, friend?"

Liyar stared at his balkra. It took him a while to integrate the request, attempting to understand the language of Terrans was still difficult even with the exercises he was learning from Athlen. His own experience with bureaucracy would be tedious to tell in any real detail. It was extensive. "Most Vulcans have a cursory degree of experience with the phenomenon," he offered, still unsure as to what exactly Fernandez was asking, "As our lives are dictated by order and logic. If you clarify your statement I may be capable of answering more completely," he decided to be honest, tilting his head to the side slightly.

"Simple enough," Fernandez replied. "It seems like you have had an unpleasant experience with 'bureaucracy'. "

"I believe there is a point at which order and structure cease being useful," Liyar agreed. "I am a diplomat." He glanced down at the purple stripe on his sleeve. "I am familiar with that point on multiple levels."

"That's..." Ray paused for a moment as he looked over his cane. "That's very un-Vulcan like of you Lieutenant. For someone who's unfamiliar with Human customs, you seem to have a grasp on the basic principles."

It was a logical statement, Liyar thought. There was always, at any point, a time when structure and regulation and imposition became detrimental rather than useful. To put a gigantic spike in the center of a well functioning unit would only hinder the natural flow of things. Of course, Vulcans preferred order. Didn't trust nature and almost neurotically insisted on it. That did not mean it was the most logical solution at every point. To acknowledge that was logical. And logic was the foundation of his society. Therefore he did not understand how this was unvulcan, but he decided to use another diplomatic technique. "As you say."

"Good to know that we're not the only ones that suffer from the miscommunication caused from superiors and regulations. " The veteran straightened his legs from underneath the table, rubbing his knees softly. Finally after a small while he stood up and smiled. "You passed your first TRT test Mister Liyar. Congratulations."

Miscommunication was rare. Spikes, on the otherhand. Plenty of spikes and chains and razor-sharp teeth. Contraptions of all sorts metal and cool and perfectly logical, stilting everything. He never could comprehend how some Vulcans espoused concepts as kaiidth and then constantly interfered with the natural order of things. But he supposed that might be a cultural difference. Most Vulcans also considered Miri'kahr to be backwards. Then the man's words seeped in and he looked up. "Test," he repeated uncertainly. "I was unaware that there would be a test." But the captain was already standing up.

"Of course you weren't supposed to be aware of it. I wouldn't have gotten the right answers. " He chuckled. " You're someone that is willing to do what needs doing in order to get the job done. You have had military training outside the norm, but have had dealings and issues regarding various superiors of some sort that caused you to not pursue the career choice. You're an independent individual that believes that teamwork is a requirement and have no issue working with others in order to achieve that goal. You have had your share of failures, but have learned from them and have attempted to prevent them from happening. From the way you hold yourself, you're proficient and confident in your abilities, but you understand that you have your own flaws and are willing to admit them should people ask, but you are hot tempered for a Vulcan, things can get under your skin, and you're very sarcastic when you want to be. Your eyes don't lie Lieutenant. Anyways, You also dislike eating a large majority of the food you replicate, but it's habit and you have tendencies of traditionalism on top of the fact you miss your home. "

Ray snapped his cane up and smiled. "Oh, but most of all Lieutenant...you know your limits." As he turned around to make his way out of the mess, he looked back over his shoulder. "I look forward to pushing those limits Lieutenant Liyar. Have a pleasant day."

Liyar didn't emote anything beyond the usual eyebrow, ears drawn back uncomfortably. Was this person a telepath? But no. They couldn't be. Liyar would have known. Rather than comment he stared ahead, piecing together the entire conversation as though attempting to find something he'd said that convinced Fernandez of these things. It was even more unnerving to have a Terran psi-null point them out than it would have been for someone to read his mind. Wait - Liyar thought of saying, blinking, but it was too late. Fernandez was gone. He looked at his casserole. It was not very comforting. He wanted to learn that. How to observe without telepathy. Then people would not find him so disconcerting. He could tell them reasonable things and they would think that he was more like them. "Goodbye," he muttered to the balkra. It did not have anything useful to contribute.

OFF:

Marine Captain Ray Fernandez (Ret.)
Former Marine CO of USS Fitzgerald
TRT Instructor
Starfleet Academy, Earth

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

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