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T'Prise

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About T'Prise

  • Birthday 04/26/1981

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    http://tprise.wordpress.com
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  • Gender
    Female
  • Location
    Vulcana Regar, Raal Province, Vulcan
  • Interests
    Learning, science, medicine, geography, computers, programming
  1. As the never-can-bes had unfolded in his mind his fists had started clenching, and the feeling of something being squeezed in his right hand had broken him from his reverie. He sat down heavily to look at the photograph that he had taken from Syndrx’s body and that had been sitting, forgotten, in Escher’s right hand. He wiped the salt water and desperation from his eyes so that, for a moment, he could see clearly. What Lies Beneath the Waters, MC Escher, Chief Science Officer, USS Manticore **** The answers were all within the evidentiary minutiae the Manticore was collecting, of that fact, T’Prise was assured. As a scientist, she well knew that the solution to any question or problem lay within the particulars. Logic dictated that the explanation as to the admiral’s disappearance, the unusual climatology cycles on earth, and their orders to report to Titan, would be discovered by examining the specifics and piecing them together correctly. To use the human euphemism, it all came down to assembling the puzzle properly. Pegasus was now in docking bay three, awaiting a thorough inspection by the crew assigned to investigate it. Having arranged retrieval of the admiral’s yacht, the Vulcan was on her way to begin a preliminary examination of the vessel. She knew that Commander Escher was already in the docking bay, eagerly scrutinizing the ship. His request that she bring a pair of specially calibrated tricorders to the docking bay met with the physicists approval. These specially tuned devices would provide invaluable aid in the inquest. T'Prise stopped at the door of the science chief’s office pausing to enter a keycode and submit to a bioscan. The door slid open, plunging the physicist into darkness. A simple command illuminated the office, revealing the organized clutter of multiple projects scattered across work surfaces. Piled high with data PADDs and discarded instruments, the commander’s desk occupied the corner alcove of his office. While Escher’s keen curiosity and fierce devotion made him an excellent scientist and researcher, those same traits also perplexed his subordinate. Pausing for a moment, the Vulcan considered some of the thoughts that currently occupied her neural matrix. Her brief conversation with Doctor Farrington had provided no real answers. While T’Prise's knowledge of emotions and their effects on humans had grown during her time aboard the Manticore, many things still puzzled her. Escher was her friend; an individual she trusted with her life. Yet, just as she thought she understood him, his actions would once again become incomprehensible. Quietly sliding behind his desk, she activated the concealed release for the hidden compartment. The drawer slid open, revealing a small cache of highly sensitive and highly sentimental objects. On the very top perched a photograph, the subject of which perplexed her exceedingly. She stared down at the photograph for several long moments, trying to determine its meaning. Some months ago she had accidentally discovered this drawer on another errand for the commander. While she refused to violate his privacy by further disturbing the cache or its contents, she nonetheless turned the facts over and over in her mind, considering every context and every nuance, trying to deduce the significance. It was not something she could discuss openly with Escher, for obvious reasons, yet its presence had been the determining factor in beginning her new research project at the Daystrom. Quirking a brow at her own contemplation, she gently slid the drawer shut and went to retrieve the tricorders. She could ruminate on this issue at another time, to insure the conclusions already determined were correct. The more urgent matter of discovering the missing admiral and restoring earth to its normal environmental setting needed to be addressed. The captain required the examination of evidence in that puzzle as soon as possible and this required the science team to quickly catalog the details in order the expediently formulate any theories.
  2. Her list of items to accomplish during this shift was lengthy, but did not contain any unachievable responsibilities. Many of the tasks pertained directly to the ship’s current assignments, which were to investigate the unusual weather phenomena being reported on earth and to locate the admiral. Curiously, the errant admiral's yacht was in close proximity to the meteorology station which administered terra’s environmental controls, suggesting that there was a potential relationship between his disappearance and the capricious climate patterns. She focused her attention on the next item in the list. Less than twelve hours prior, she had agreed to assist Lieutenant Jaenke with researching his current emotional issues and mental incapacities. T’Prise failed to comprehend why the engineer had requested her collaboration in this endeavor since it fell well outside her normal duties and area of expertise. She was hardly acquainted with the nuances of emotions. T’Prise was capable of telepathic communication through physical contact, as were most Vulcans. This by no means suggested she was an expert on telepathy in other species. The physicist would never have recommended herself as a mentor or advisor to the bewildered chief. His request was illogical, but a plea for aid none the less.. Leaning over her workstation, T'Prise initiated a series of inquiries regarding Betazoid physiology, mental capabilities and telepathy. She would begin by studying the general literature before focusing specifically on the issues Jaenke was experiencing. While the computer executed the query, she opened up a comm line to Starfleet Medical. A colleague currently working there would be able to assist with two of the tasks she needed to accomplish. “This is Doctor Farrington.” The psychologist sounded preoccupied and somewhat distracted. "Doctor Farrington, this is Doctor T'Prise, may I request a few moments of your time?" “T’Prise! Of course. Are you in-system?” "Yes, the Manticore is currently en route to Saturn. Would you care to establish visual contact?" Manticore’s former counselor appeared on-screen. “You look well, T’Prise. How may I help you?” "Doctor Farrington, it is agreeable to see you, as your appearance suggests your well being is consistent with a normal state of health. Is your current situation meeting expectations?" “Well beyond expectations, T’Prise. My work here is very rewarding, though I do miss my husband and the crew of Manticore.” A brow rose, the human propensity for sentimentality still escaped the Vulcan’s understanding. "It is likely that your absence from the ship is also noticed by members of the crew. I find it curious that humans have a penchant to emotionally attached to other individuals and circumstances,” the scientist paused for brief moment, an inquisitive look lighting her eyes. “In your experience as a doctor, do humans have the capacity to regret things which never occurred, or do not exist?” Dr. Farrington’s attempt to cover her surprise with curiosity was only somewhat successful. "I'm not exactly sure what you mean, T'Prise. Do you mean something imagined? Some past experience that has become a distorted memory over time?" “The existence of alternate realities have suggested this line of questioning. Is it possible to regret a life not lived?” The doctor blew out a breath, then paused a moment in thought. "Well…sometimes people regret passing up a chance for an experience in life, and sometimes they wish they'd lived a different life, but…” her lips pressed together, “somehow I don't believe that's what you’re talking about. T'Prise, has Manticore been jumping through realities again?" “No, we have not been experiencing any reality shifts since your departure. I was merely inquiring in regards to our previous experiences. This discussion was not the purpose of my call however, we do not need to focus on it any further." Her friend looked relieved. “Your previous mention of the admiral brings me to one of purposes for contacting you. I wish to inquire as to his whereabouts. Have you spoken with him lately?" “Admiral Atragon? Not recently. I had heard the ship was detained ‘on a mission’ but I've heard nothing else.” Her expression changed appreciably. “Is there a problem?” "Nothing of note to currently report. The crew has been recalled from leave in order to address an urgent need. I was merely attempting to locate the admiral and apprise him of the situation." “I see.” Jami continued to maintain a look of concern as she slipped on a sweater. Her shift in position provided a view of the blizzard raging outside. “Well, the answer is no, T'Prise, I haven’t seen him or spoken with him, but if I do I’ll be sure to have him contact the ship.” The Vulcan cocked her head. "Do you wish for me to inform him of your concern once he has been located?" “Yes. Thank you. But only if it doesn't interfere with his duties or distract him. He usually calls when he’s in-system, so there must be something more urgent on his mind." T'Prise nodded, glancing down to check on the status of the sensor scans currently being run on her console. "I did have a secondary motive for initiating contact with you. Might I ask some questions pertaining to psychological research?" “Of course." "I am interested in Betazoid telepathic capabilities. Do you have any expertise in the subject?" “Not expertise, per se, but I’ve studied quite a bit of research." "Are you familiar with a condition that impedes an adult Betazoid from creating mental shields to protect themselves from telepathic bombardment?" There came a brief pause while the doctor considered. "Yes. It’s a condition that originates in childhood. Normally, a Betazoid’s telepathic skill doesn’t develop until adolescence, but in the case of some individuals the psilosynine transmitter in the paracortex is active at birth. This doesn’t usually present a problem; it can be an asset because the individual is usually extremely talented. "However, a problem can arise when the telepathy becomes extremely powerful and the individual cannot filter the input received from those around. The occurrence is loosely called HAPS for Hyperactive Paracortex Syndrome, but there really isn’t a proper medical term for it.” Dr. Farrington paused to scrutinize the Vulcan scientist for a long moment. “And now I’m curious, T’Prise. This isn’t exactly physics, so why the research?" Looking unperturbed, the physicist was silent for a moment, carefully considering her words. "I have recently encountered someone suffering from hyperactive paracortex syndrome and wished to know more on the subject. Are there any suggested treatments or therapies that you might recommend?" Hesitation was evident in Jami’s expression, as though she was aware of a possible treatment but was reluctant to share. “T’Prise, there are many treatments out there. Some have worked for individuals; some have been disastrous. Medicine is far from an exact science; it works more as trial and error, and when it comes to telepathy, it has been mostly error. Therapeutic treatments must be designed for each individual to account for the differences in brain function. “As for medical treatment,” she paused again, “for the short term there are various drugs that have helped a few patients, but I don’t advise using them because their track record is far from stellar and complications can arise suddenly with very unfortunate results. “For the long term?” Again there was hesitancy and a strong note of caution. “There is one procedure that has had some dramatic success - and I do emphasize some. I would not even consider it unless the patient can be monitored over a long period of time by a battery of trained specialists because it involves genetic manipulation. I’m sure you have an idea of the delicacy and dangers of genetic manipulation in an adult for a character trait that initiated in the womb.” The slight pursing of lips in contemplation was the Vulcan's only visible reaction."Your response suggest that a proven treatment has yet to be devised for this syndrome and that therapy depends entirely upon the patient. This suggests that patients diagnosed with the syndrome are subject to all manner of investigational countermeasures, applied with little or no guarantee.” The scientist fell silent for a moment, in quiet contemplation, her mind already considering the ramifications and possibilities. "Your information is helpful and provides me with a foundation upon which to develop my own investigation Thank you for your assistance." “Most welcome, T’Prise. I’ll contact you if I hear anything from the Admiral.” "Your diligence is appreciated." The scientist raised her hand in the customary gesture. "Live long and prosper." ------------------- (Many thanks to Commander Farrington for her special guest appearance!)
  3. Moving at a pace that made distinguishing specific features dizzying to the naked eye, the accelerator spun around and around, operating in perfect synchroneity to the hum of quantum matter engine that powered it. Perched smartly on her chair, posture perfect, and PADD poised for note taking, the Vulcan physicist once again watched the apparatus with an unblinking gaze. It continued to spin, gathering data with each pass. While her eyes registered the gyrations of the accelerator, her mind circled at a simliar pace, thoughts and ideas spiraling through her consciousness, collecting details and momentum with each rotation. Once the danger posed by unusal weather patterns ceased, T'Prise had returned to the Daystrom, accompianed by Escher. Conversation had been stilted and labored, neither wishing to give voice to their thoughts, or address the ghosts hovering around them. After quickly checking through her research proposal and experiment protocols, Escher had left to visit a few colleagues in the complex. She was unsure of his schedule or when he would return. Although it had not been apparent to her at first, the physicist now recognized that they oft times engaged in a thoroughly bizarre human ritual involving non-verbal communication. Instead of participating in discussions, like logical, intelligent beings, they instead resorted to action and implications, using them as a methodoloy to convery their thoughts and ideas to one another. T'Prise had once heard the concept referred to as reading between the lines and now fully understood that it was the unspoken words rather than their normal discourse that characterized their interactions with one another. It was a suprising realization that she had been participating in this activity for some time without her conscious knowledge. The speed of the accelerator's revolutions increased, as per the experiment's protocols and the Vulcan made a notation of the change on her PADD. If this experiment proved successful, she would schedule time on the high luminosity large hadron collider housed in another building of the complex. The hadron collider was a linear accelertor, different then the ring accelerator she was currently working with. Conducting tests on both instruments would allow her to gather a broader base set of empirical evidence. Thoughts of using two different types of accelerators as part of the experiment reminded her of the research she had agreed to perform for Lieutenant Jaenke. She still failed to comprehend why he was requesting her assistance. Merely belonging to a species capable of telepathic ability did not make one an expert on the subject. However, he had politely requested her aid and although she did not know him well, or consider him a friend, she could not dismiss his plea. She made a mental notation to contact an old colleague and friend, who had expertise in this area and could act as an advisor. This would insure that Jaenke would be working with the best available data as well. As the speed of the circuits began to decrease the Vulcan stood and walked over to the panel controlling the apparatus, noting that the computer had begun to collate data between the first and second test sequences, merging the two sets for analysis. The computer interface for this lab was new, an upgrade from the one she had used when assigned to the Daystrom as a lead quantum physicist on the Pergrination Project. The enhanced features made controlling the accelerator to the precise millisecond much easier and might have made a significant difference in the results of the research she had once conducted on quantum slipstream. Although the happenstance was coincidental, she found it curious that she was embarking on a new journey in search of knowledge, a path potentially fraught with even more pitfalls and danger than the one she had traveled before, in the same place she had begun her previous exploration. Escher might point out that she had come full circle, yet, from her point of view this trek was disapparate from her previous one, the outcome would not result in disaster, she would do everything in her power to assure a satisfactory conclusion.
  4. Exiting the turbolift, T’Prise set off at a brisk pace down the corridor, heading towards deflector control. They were running out of both time and options, which boded ill for the success of the Manticore being able to return to its own universe via the combination of slipstream technology and their original method of entry, the dust storm. Their initial attempt to project a slipstream portal using this methodology had failed and they did not have time to run another test before the dust storm dissipated, removing a vital component in their route home. Turning sharply at a junction, T’Prise continued walking at a fast clip. The failed test revealed that they had not been routing enough power to the main deflector dish, thus hampering its ability to create a stable portal. Commander Syndrx was in the process of allocating more power to the system, but the increased power capacity would also increase the risk of using the dish. If their journey back was to be successful, it would require a highly coordinated effort between departments. A science officer on the bridge would need to work closely with navigation, making precise calculations to move the ship safely through the slipstream corridor. In turn, those calculations would need to be relayed to the scientists and engineers controlling the main deflector dish, at least two science officers would need to be on hand in order to rapidly make the adjustments to the deflector so it maintained a stable field. This would all need to be done in conjunction with someone monitoring sensors and alerting the entire team to any changes, so that those changes could be swiftly compensated for and would not cause a catastrophic end to their journey. While the deflector dish was operational, it would be the most vulnerable area of the Manticore, the quantum fluctuations surrounding it making it highly vulnerable to time/space distortions and structural integrity failure. Given all of the multitude of possible permutations for this entire scenario and the critical nature of their situation, the likelihood of failure was exceedingly high. Although they had taken precautionary measures and evacuated all non-essential personnel to the center of the ship, in all probability the ship hull’s structural integrity would fail. Minimizing the risks in this case was all they could do. Turning another corner, T’Prise saw the doors leading into the main deflector dish control room. Right as she was about to enter them, however, her comm badge came to life. “Escher to T’Prise.” Without breaking her stride tapped her badge to respond. “T’Prise here.” Escher finalized the bridge deflector control input as he talked to his scientific subordinate. “I want you on the bridge when we activate the quantum slipstream for real. Your expertise is invaluable, and we need you to steer this thing. I’ll assist Syndrx in deflector control.” A short silence followed before she answered. “Commander, it is critical that we maintain a stable portal if we wish to return to our own universe. Given my expertise, I would suggest that my time would be better served in deflector control with Commander Syndrx.” “My decision is final, Lieutenant Commander. Escher out.” The dust cloud shrank as Manticore prepared its departure.
  5. Meritorious Achievement Award Alternating Current or Breakfast at the End of the World She awoke suddenly, blinking in the darkness, attempting to orient her thoughts. Shifting slightly, she glanced at the chronometer on the bedside table, which indicated it was late into the ship’s night cycle, nearing the early hours of morning. Rolling to her side, she rose carefully so as to not awaken the man beside her and moved quietly to the next room, towards the sounds that had disturbed her sleep. “I am here,” she intoned calmly, lifting her son from his cradle, settling him into her shoulder and gently rubbing his back to soothe him. After several moments, the infant ceased to fret and she placed him on a soft padded table to change his soiled pants and also to retrieve his customary dietary supplement from the replicator. Settling into a chair, she held him in her arms, wrapping his blanket gently around him, tucking it behind his head and brushing her fingers softly over the points of his ears as he greedily consumed his meal. At ninety-two days old, Christopher was healthy and growing rapidly. As a Human/Vulcan hybrid his development appeared to be progressing within normal parameters. His motor skills and cognitive abilities were slightly advanced on a human scale, yet slightly delayed on a Vulcan scale; however, Dr. Chalice had assured them that this was very typical for children of mixed race. While he generally preferred his mother, whenever he displayed playful emotions he tended to fuss until his father appeared. Continuing to rock her son, T’Prise closed her eyes and leaned her head against the side of the chair, meditating on their future. The Manticore was en-route to Maturin Station, presumably to receive new orders and ship out. While they had thus far kept the child with them, it was past time to start contemplating a more stable environment in which to raise their son. Deep in thought, she startled slightly as a strong pair of hands gripped her shoulder bracingly. Blinking, she looked up and around to see her husband standing behind her, reaching out for the infant. Tucking the blanket more closely around him, she handed Christopher into his father’s waiting arms. Holding the boy close to his chest, Malcolm Escher bounced gently and grinned when as the baby smiled up at him. Gently steadying his son, Escher took a seat across from T’Prise, inhaling deeply to calm his voice before he addressed his wife. “T’Prise, I know we are already planning leave Chris with your parents once we reach Maturin, but I think it is time to discuss our future. You and I both know that a black ops ship is no place to raise our child. We need to talk about one - or both of us - taking a more stable assignment after we complete this mission. We have someone else’s future to worry about now.” “I have already anticipated this eventuality,” T’Prise said evenly, watching as Christopher became fascinated with the collar of his father’s shirt, reaching out his short stubby fingers to grasp the open neck and pull. “Prior to our son’s birth, I applied for and received an appointment as an instructor at the Vulcan Science Academy.” Escher nodded and gently extricated his shirt from Chris’ mouth, replacing it with a pacifier before speaking. “Of course. And I want you to take it.” He sighed and looked up and around, as if taking in the entire vessel instead of the quarters in which he sat. “I love the Manticore - more than I ever thought I could love something like a flying piece of metal. But I love Chris - and you - more. I don’t know how such things work, but do you think I could accompany you to your post at the Science Academy?” “I anticipated your desire to remain together and have already communicated with the Vulcan Science Council. There are several positions available that could benefit from someone of your expertise. If you wish to review them, they are in your message queue.” She rose and began to straighten up the room, folding blankets and organizing the changing table. “This will of course require us to either resign from Starfleet or request extended leave.” Escher paused for a moment, feeling Chris start to drift off in his arms. “I say we ask for extended leave. We’ve served our time; I think that they’ll let us do that, at least to start off. I don’t want to resign unless I absolutely have to. Starfleet...is my home, in more ways than one. I don’t want to give it up lightly.” Pausing as she set the cradle aright, T’Prise nodded. “I would agree that a leave of absence would be the most rational course of action. When Christopher is old enough, we may wish to have a shipboard assignment once more, perhaps on an exploration vessel with accommodations for families.” “Imagine,” Escher said, his eyes growing distant and his face drifting into rapture, “you, me, and Chris, on the frontier of known space. You and I could work in the science department of the vessel and teach Chris all we know. We would marvel at the stars, at the galaxy, at life, and we would do it together. That would be...something else.” His attention snapped back to the room. “It really would be the final frontier, just like the Starfleet recruitment posters said, hmm?” Finished setting the room aright, T’Prise gave her husband a patient but tolerant look. “There is still much knowledge to be learned within the vast reaches of our universe and into those realms yet unexplored. A future in Starfleet would indeed hold fascinating wonders.” Still cradling their son, Escher smiled and stood, kissing his wife lightly on the cheek. “I love you.” “I have affection for you as well, Malcolm,” she replied placidly, although her tone was infused with as much warmth a the limitations of her Vulcan demeanor allowed. His answering grin was stifled by a yawn. “Let’s get breakfast. I’m famished.” Escher placed Chris, finally lulled into a sound asleep, back into his cradle, and covered the slumbering infant with his blanket. Moving to the open doorway, he watched as T’Prise placed dishes for their morning meal on the table in the sitting room of their joint quarters. While their relationship and the melding of two such diverse cultures had been trying at times, the birth of their son had brought them closer together in ways neither had ever imagined. Happy, he sat down to breakfast, ready to discuss their bright future, and ready to enjoy these small moments, these little wonders life afforded them. A few light years away, an Arcturan mine detected the Manticore’s approach and armed itself. ***** Direct Current or Dinner on the Edge of Forever He awoke suddenly, blinking in the darkness, attempting to orient his thoughts. Shifting slightly, he glanced at the chronometer on the bedside table, which indicated it was midway into the ship’s night cycle. Tossing the covers aside, he sat up, knowing he would not be able to go back to sleep. He stepped into the main living area of his quarters and stared warily at a spot on the ground. He could have sworn he had heard something echoing through his quarters that had awakened him - a cry, maybe - but nothing was there. His quarters seemed just as empty and stark as they had always been. After nearly an hour of wearing out the carpet from pacing, turning their current situation and the problems they faced, as well as his earlier unexpected discovery, over in his mind, Escher finally came to the realization that as he was already awake, and he might as well try to get some work done. Throwing on a spare uniform and taking a short turbolift ride, he emerged into the cool, sterilized air of the main lab, stopping short at the scene before him. Although the lighting was dim, given the lateness of the hour, a soft glow emanated from the three stations displaying complex mathematical calculations and the main console projecting design specifications. Flitting between those stations and the console was his Vulcan colleague, apparently taking advantage of the isolation this time of night offered to work on the problem of getting the Manticore home. Not even a month ago, Escher would have noticed nothing else of interest, but at this point he had become sufficiently attuned to T’Prise’s internal fluctuations that he could see a certain...tension about her actions. She was nervous, on edge, and while she would never admit it, Escher was worried about it - and worried about her. Studying the screen in front of her, T’Prise was dimly aware of Escher’s presence as he strode into the lab. While not insurmountable, the problem set before her was difficult at best. The slipstream drive had not originally been designed for use as a portal between quantum realities. In order to return to their own universe, they would need to replicate the circumstances under which they had originally entered into this one, which included the presence of rapidly fluctuating quantum matter. Hence, they would need to return to the dust storm and use the conditions within it to create a quantum field through which to construct a tunnel back to their own reality. This would require precise mathematical calculations in order to manipulate space and time accurately and the slipstream deflector dish and engine would need very specific adjustments in order to function within both realities. Finally satisfied with the test scenario before her, T’Prise turned to address her chief. “Did you require something, Commander?” Escher ran his hand through his hair distractedly. “No, no, I didn’t. Just couldn’t sleep, and figured I would come down to the lab to get some work done. I see I’m not the only one who had that idea.” “It is imperative we make precise calculations and run numerous test scenarios before attempting to return to our own reality. Otherwise, the results could be disastrous or even deadly. Commander Syndrx has provided invaluable aid in reconfiguring my engine design to implement on the Manticore. We will begin working on the ship’s engines and deflector dish at the start of alpha shift; however, I cannot lose time in determining the exact settings required for us to create the appropriate tunnel into our own universe.” He nodded, taking in her barely perceptible but nonetheless harried looking appearance and contemplated how best to extract her from the stress of the situation, if even for only a few hours. An idea popped into his head and he gestured behind her at the reams of data being spat out on the main display. “It looks like the simulation is running its course for now. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving; you up for a late dinner?” “I am not hungry at the present time. It is more important that I finish with these test scenarios,” she said, turning her attention back to the console, clearly dismissing him. Escher could feel the old tensions beginning to flare. “T’Prise, you can’t work yourself to death. These scenarios are currently running through the computer. You can take twenty minutes off to eat, which you should, because otherwise you’ll collapse one day in the middle of an important assignment and that -” Escher stalled as he separated his true feelings from what he could say aloud, “- that would be detrimental to this ship. And I don’t want to lose one of my best officers. So. Eat.” “I am fully capable of staying fully alert and performing my duties without collapsing,” she answered him somewhat stiffly. “There is no reason for me to leave at this critical juncture. Our future depends upon us returning to our own universe, that will not happen if these calculations are incorrect.” “I know what you’re fully capable of, T’Prise, but right now you’re being dumb. You’re not actually needed here, you just feel...I don’t know. Quantum slipstream tech holds a lot of baggage for you, and I think it’s showing. I really think you need to take a break.” Her head swung around sharply as she turned to peer at him, her eyes narrowing. “You are incorrect in your suppositions. I am doing my duty as a Starfleet officer to ensure the safety of this ship and her crew. Now unless you plan on relaying any orders, I ask that you allow me to continue my work, uninterrupted.” Escher straightened up and did something he hated doing. “In fact, I do have an order. I’m ordering you to take a temporary break to let the simulations run and get something to eat.” He rebelled at himself - pulling rank was something he abhorred, something that ran completely against the concept of the scientific process - but he quieted his internal voices and maintained his resolve. She opened her mouth, ready to protest, but the look in his eyes quailed her desire to oppose him. “If those are you orders, I will have to comply.” Tapping her fingers lightly against the console, issuing one last command, she turned on her heel and headed for the door, refusing to look in his direction. Escher followed her to the mess, standing beside her, not speaking. A million things weighed on his mind, but the one that kept coming back to the surface was that computer screen with the calm, informative text that alerted him of a child - a particular, half-human, half-Vulcan child. It was true that Escher knew nothing more than that, but he could feel it in his bones: somewhere - somehow - he and T’Prise had been happy together. It bore into his psyche as few things ever had, and he was forced to stop himself from blurting something out to his Vulcan colleague as they got their food and sat down. They ate in silence, unable to even make polite small talk, each absorbed within their own thoughts, as emotionally and physically removed from this reality as they were from the one in which they had originated. A few light years away, a dust storm twisted and churned, awaiting the Manticore’s approach.
  6. Glancing at the data scroll across her station’s monitor, T’Prise concluded that it was only a matter of time before they discovered quantifiable evidence proving Manticore had indeed crossed into a parallel universe. Given that she was currently working with the sensor log data, identifying even any spatial phenomena the ship had encountered in the last year and sending anything that remotely matched their criteria to Commander Syndrx for further analysis, it was only logical to conclude that they would eventually succeed in distinguishing when and where the shift from one universe to the other occurred. However, given her earlier discussions with Captain Sovak and Commander Farrington, she was curious as to the how they wished to gather and incorporate the crew interviews into their overall findings. As someone who embraced logic and balance, she found accounts of people’s feelings and impressions to be anecdotal at best. It may be of use generally, in attempting to establish a time line, but it could not be relied upon as solid evidence in establishing the Manticore’s whereabouts on a factual basis. Yet, despite these rational and analytical arguments as to its validity, T’Prise was still intrigued by the purpose and overall usefulness of this qualitative data set. In her experience, humans tended to lend much credence to their emotional intuition. If their emotions were heightened due to a change or a sense of something incorrect, they allowed those emotions to guide and direct their actions. Given the evolutionary development and preponderance of the species, she had to conclude that these instincts were in fact somewhat effective. Briefly she wondered if her curiosity was somehow influenced by her current state of mind, her own struggle with emotional influences perhaps weakening her ability to maintain her focus on logic. But as quickly as those thoughts entered her mind she dismissed them, now was not the proper time for introspection. Ensuring that the computer would continue to execute her query and relay information to Commander Syndrx, she stood and moved towards the lower level of the bridge to approach the captain and second officer. Both were seasoned Starfleet veterans and perhaps their insights would satisfying T’Prise’s curiosity and help her focus on more important matters. Regardless, they had been ordered to conduct a thorough investigation and it would be advisable to begin the interviews with crew members now rather than later. “Captain, Commander? I suggest that we adjourn to the conference room for a brief status update and to discuss the crew interviews.” ***** Seated alone at one end of the conference room table, following his discussion with Farrington and T’Prise, Sovak was at even more of a loss than he had been. True, the only logical conclusion of the data at hand indicated that they were in a parallel universe of some kind. True, facts about the differences between this universe and their own could be quantified. But also true, was the fact that one of the bases of this conclusion was his own “feelings” and to discover precisely when they transitioned into this universe, they must now trace back the events to the precise moment when it didn’t “feel” right. As he said, he was at a loss. As a Vulcan, he had spent his entire life suppressing and controlling his feelings and emotions. It was second nature to him, to all Vulcans. Now, to explore those feelings and not ignore them? Not suppress them? He really did not know where to begin. Perhaps another discussion with Commander Farrington would be in order. ***** Returning briefly to the OPS station to check in following the conference, Jami reflected briefly on what had been discussed between the three known “sensitives” aboard the Manticore. In the presence of two Vulcans, the fully human Jami Farrington felt out of place, but put aside her misgivings to focus on the situation. Parallel universe? The implications were beyond Jami’s immediate ability to fathom, so she refused, for the moment, to consider them at all. Instead, she concentrated on how and when they may have arrived. The transition had been so stealthy, so insidious, and so nearly imperceptible; it seemed that a superior consciousness may have been work, though the thought was entirely absurd. Then, the signs that now seemed so obvious were not ignored, but they were dismissed, rationalized, and embraced as de rigueur to their status in the fleet and their mission in special operations. And it had continued for nearly ten days. Ten days! Thinking back, her first “feeling” came with Maturin Station’s reconfiguration – quite an accomplishment considering the short span of time they had spent between visits. Still, she had dismissed it, using the recent upsurge in activity for special and covert operations as her rationalization. But dismissing the resurrection of former Consul General Melville was more difficult. Jami had been there in her official capacity as a physician for the autopsy. Unless medical science had advanced beyond her wildest dreams, he could not possibly have survived. Furthermore, that he was a Founder was a ludicrous thought; the super-paranoid security systems at Maturin would have detected that immediately. One by one, Jami ticked off the suspicious differences as she shared them with Captain Sovak and T’Prise, which had brought her to the curious circumstance of her inclusion in the trio of “sensitives.” Since her encounter with the Qin in the Andromeda galaxy, she had been “sensitive” to a certain degree, but not necessarily to the degree she had recently experienced. Vai, her Qin “healer,” had indicated Jami’s telepathic abilities were a byproduct of the Qin healing process, and that the ability would most likely fade over time. Strangely enough, exactly the opposite had occurred – at least in this reality. Would her sensitivity continue when - and if - they returned to their reality? Again, her mind had wandered. They had their list; time to gather data.
  7. Initial scans indicated that the debris brought aboard did not constitute a threat to the Manticore or her crew, allowing Syndrx to return to the task or repairing the sensors and leaving T'Prise to run both the preliminary and in-depth analysis. Visual assessment suggested that the metal samples brought aboard were formerly part of some spacecraft, origins undetermined as yet. Ordering a full metallurgic assay and elemental analysis, the Vulcan astrophysicist requested a portable sensor unit be delivered to the cargo bay before running a tricorder over the samples as part of her exploratory scans. ******** Stepping out of the turbolift on deck 20, Morran made his way down the corridor, mumbling to himself while hunched over from the weight of the portable sensor unit. Shifting his burden from one arm to the other, he glanced over at the Trill who was following him, finding the action was made somewhat difficult by the weight of the equipment dragging his shoulder down. “You know, this thing is quite heavy. I'm a biologist, not a grav lift.” Right on the heels of her colleague and carrying the rest of the tools and equipment, Jaxa stopped abruptly as the El Aurian addressed her over his shoulder. “We could try to find a grav lift, but T’Prise did sound like she wanted the sensor delivered now rather than later.” “Bloody women, always wanting something this very minute…” Morran trailed off, muttering incomprehensibly. Somehow, he managed to slouch even more, taking on a more defensive posture yet still able to move quickly down the corridor. Continuing to dog his footsteps, Jaxa listened to his ranting, interjecting at his particularly colorful description of women. “Somehow, I know where you’re coming from. My wife used to...well not my wife but Tobias' was like that.” Turris' eyebrows perked up curiously at her words, a look of surprise playing across his features as if he was noticing something for the first time. He slung the sensor back across his other shoulder, tapping behind his ear and gesturing with his freed hand. “Ah, right. The spots. I suppose we're something of kindred spirits.” Jaxa smiled to herself thinking that maybe she had finally found a way to put all these persistent memories to good use; befriending her science lab crew members was high on her list of things to do. ******** Accepting his personal effects from the orderly, Escher immediately went in search of his new comm badge, not bothering to change into the clean uniform. “Escher to T’Prise. What’s the situation?” Glancing up from her tricorder at the chirping of her own badge, T'Prise raised an eyebrow at Escher’s unexpected comm. “Sir, I was informed that you were currently in sickbay undergoing treatment for injuries sustained during the campaign. Have you been cleared for duty?” Waving his hands vaguely in the air, unconcerned that she was unable to see him, the science chief responded. “‘Ish. Well enough to talk. Nothing long-term. I want to know the status of my science team. Also, what was with that broadcast from Melville? Also, are you okay?” Perplexed by his show of concern, especially given that she was responsible for his current sojourn in sickbay, she paused for a moment before replying. “Commander, you need to recover from your injuries. You ought not to be concerned about the science team at this juncture. Commander Syndrx and I have everything under control.” Escher blinked a few times at her words. “Syndrx is back? Wait, scratch that, it's unimportant. I am fine. I'm a picture of health. What are you working on right now? Can I help?” Completing her scans, she turned her attention to the tricorder, scrolling through the readings. “Unless you are cleared for duty, I cannot discuss our current situation with you. Although your interest and concern is appreciated, your focus should be on recovering.” “T'Prise, I will recuperate much better if you tell me what's going on. I'm going to be your science chief again rather soon, even if I'm not right at this instant,” Escher rejoined, sighing loud enough to be heard over the comm. The doors behind her opened with a loud hiss, revealing Morran and Jaxa along with the requested equipment. Attention still focused on her tricorder and conversation over the comm, T’Prise only gave them a cursory glance. “Sir, regulations specifically prohibit me from providing you with any pertinent details...” she trailed off mid-sentence as the tricorder's findings finally registered and then raised her voice slightly, but at a noticeable level, to continue on. “This must be incorrect.” Detecting her change in tone, Escher nearly jumped out of his biobed, intent on marching down to the cargo bay. “What must be incorrect? T'Prise, what's going on?” Oblivious to the conversation taking place via the ship’s communication systems, Morran swept clumsily through the portal into the cargo bay, slinging the sensor over his shoulder and letting it thump on the ground before using it to prop himself up. “The equipment you ordered, Miss Vulcan,” he announced with a gesture towards the machine. Jaxa followed behind, placing various pieces of equipment on the nearest surface. She was very interested in what T’Prise had said, a Vulcan questioning a reading never led anything good. From what little time she had spent with the Manticore science team she knew that T’Prise would tell them when she was ready. Disregarding Morran’s grand entrance, as well as Jaxa’s more subdued one, T’Prise continued to study the tricorder, as if trying to make sense of the readings. “Commander, these scans indicate that this sample is part of the Manticore's hull, a portion of the saucer section to be exact. Given the amount of debris in the field we encountered, there is enough to constitute an entire starship. I will need to complete an analysis of the isotopic signature and perform radiometric dating to confirm, yet the results of my preliminary findings indicate an exact match to the Manticore.” Throwing up his hands, Morran walked over to the wreckage and began to poke through it. “Oh, so you already know what it is? Why exactly did you bother to drag the two of us down here?” Running his hands over a particularly large piece, he pushed it aside, revealing what looked like a portion of the Manticore’s call sign and designation on another large section underneath. “Manticore? But...” Jaxa trailed off, moving towards the debris with a astonished look on her face. A silence fell as those in the cargo bay assimilated the information before them. Moments ticked away before it was broken by the sound of Escher’s tinny voice emanating from T’Prise’s commbadge. “What is going on? What...what does this mean?” his tone was hollow, attention focused on where his team was rather than his own surroundings. “Predestination paradox,” Morran muttered, mostly to himself, shaking his head. Turning her sharp gaze towards the lieutenant, T'Prise addressed their chief. “It means that the implications of this debris are far more disquieting than first assumed.”
  8. T’Prise made the final adjustments to the slipstream emitters and glanced over at Ensign Jaxa, who was diligently bent over the control panel opposite, making similar alterations to the targeting computers alignment protocols. Once their modifications were complete, the emitters and targeting computers would work in tandem, insuring accuracy and precision. The cannons were now in good working order and would function as designed if used in the upcoming conflict. In addition, Jaxa had gained valuable experience working on the project and was becoming more adept at her new role on the team, something which boded well for the science department. Stability and understanding of the roles and capabilities of the other team members within the department made the scientists aboard Manticore function as a unit, rather than disparate individuals. It was obvious from the discussion she had had with Commander Escher earlier during the shift that he was still having difficulty recognizing this concept. He, like many others of his species, tended to humanize other races, instead of recognizing the distinct cultural and physiological differences that existed between them. It was logical, when first venturing out into space, for cultures to make analogies between their own social mores and those of other species. This gave them a common ground from which to reference. Once an understanding was achieved, fully exploring a culture from an unconstrained perspective, perceiving it from the viewpoint of that culture, was the next logical step. However, despite their advancements and the founding of the Federation, humans still had the tendency to adhere to their own cultural mindset. Rather than viewing other societies with open-mindedness, they still approached their associations with other species from a strictly human perspective, not allowing for the inclusion of new ideas or differing beliefs within their understanding. From a Vulcan point of view, Escher was both a colleague and a companion. However, given her recent lapses in judgement as a result of her compromised state, it would be illogical to effectively communicate to him her beliefs regarding their relationship. He would misunderstand and misinterpret her intentions, as humans were wont to do. Once her equanimity was restored, she would be wholly incapable of reciprocating any feelings he would afford to her as a friend. Given her own lack of experience with emotion, she was unable to comprehend the human need to make connections with their acquaintances, but she did understand that these connections tended to have an effect on their personal and professional lives. Given the complexities of the situation, it was better that she did not allow Escher to engage in any sort of emotional entanglement, it would invariably lead to complications. As his friend, she was resolved to place his interests and needs ahead of her own. This was the most logical course of action and she was nothing, if not logical.
  9. Meritorious Achievement Award “Computer, raise lights one level,” T’Prise requested as she stepped into her quarters. A soft, ambient fluorescent glow filled the room, chasing away the shadows and lighting the darkened room. The holowall projected a scenic vista of the Ra’al Province at night, brilliant pinpoints of light dotting its vast open skies and reflecting softly within the shimmering waters of the Varoth Sea. Although decorated somewhat sparsely according to human standards, the walls and shelves were graced by small relics and other pieces of Vulcan art and antiquities, plainly bespeaking the occupant’s cultural heritage. It was obviously an inner sanctum, projecting calm serenity balanced by logic, an outward reflection of the individual who occupied the space. Walking slowly into the room, T’Prise placed her ever-present data PADD, which contained the latest test results on the slipstream emitters, on the desk of the workstation tucked unobtrusively into a corner. On the opposite wall three pillar candles were placed within a slight recess, slowly she moved across the room and knelt to light them, gently blowing out the lighter and placing it on the sill. She paused for a long moment, studying the candles, before standing and silently pacing down the small hallway into the lavatory to change out of her uniform and wash her face. Finished with her ablutions, she removed her hair pins, letting the length uncoil from its tightly bound constraints and fall down, brushing her shoulder blades. A smooth flick of her fingers swept it back behind the points of her ears and out of her face; looking up, she stared at herself in the mirror, trying to assess how well the outwardly projected tranquility concealed the inward turmoil. Something was wrong; it would be illogical to deny that her equilibrium had been disrupted. The wall separating her from her emotions was being slowly eroded away, in a small but insidious manner. Each carefully placed brick was being chipped at until its structural integrity was inconsequential to the overall strength of the edifice. Despite her attempts to shore up these damages through logic and meditation, the wall was still slowly crumbling. It was not difficult to pinpoint the cause of this problem. The accident aboard the Wanderlust had left her vulnerable, her natural defenses weakened. Although her mind meld with Commander Escher had aided in identifying the problem, she often pondered as to whether the meld also left her susceptible to emotional weaknesses. Delaying a trip to Vulcan to consult with specialists about having her suppressed memories brought fully to the surface, in order to reconcile and purge the incident and its associated vestigial emotions, had been a lapse in judgment. Judgment perhaps impaired by the circumstances. The introduction of quantum technology and the implementation of slipstream devices on the Manticore in preparation for their latest mission had served as another catalyst, tearing the bandages from a wound not completely healed. This would certainly explain her odd interactions with her chief as of late; the vulnerabilities exposed were manifesting themselves in unusual behaviors. The actions of the crewmates with whom she interacted with regularly were eliciting curious responses from T’Prise, but she was confident that there was no significance to it. They were merely an outward manifestation of the inner tension resulting from her unresolved issues. Logically, the best course of action would be to discount these eccentricities and focus on their upcoming mission. Ensign Jaxa, the newest alpha shift science team member, displayed the potential to be more than adequate as a member of the team. It would be prudent to cultivate that potential so that Jaxa could serve in an expanded capacity when T’Prise requested temporary leave in order to make the necessary trip to Vulcan. Exhaling gently, she turned from the mirror, prepared to use her carefully cultivated mental discipline as a method of controlling the problem until such a time as she was able to return to Vulcan. Breathing deeply, she centered herself, and moved back into the main room, ready to begin her nightly meditation.
  10. ((Apologies, this ought to have been posted last week.)) The science bay was dark. The only light emanated from the holoprojector over the main work console, displaying the specifications for the new quantum cannons, currently being installed on the Manticore. The holoimage it projected was the object of intense scrutiny by the two science officers, barely discernable in the dim light, who stood next to the console, studying the weapon design. His expression somewhat strained, Lieutenant Commander Escher broke the silence of the room, shifting his gaze to his Vulcan subordinate. “Well, at least it’s not using the ship to route power or quantum energy. It’s basically acting as a machine gun for quantum torpedoes. Although,” he paused, something in the image drawing his attention, causing him to let out a low, speculative whistle, “this thing has some high yield…” He trailed off, taking in T’Prise’s impassive, but somewhat tightly drawn features. “The designers did not display any rational foresight when it came to safety protocols. If one of these warheads was to detonate prematurely, it would have the capacity to destroy Manticore,” T’Prise commented, her words clipped, her tone devoid of even the slightest hint of feeling. Escher blinked, slightly disconcerted. “Well, yes, but you could say the same thing about any of the torpedoes we already have on board. Besides, they had to make some shortcuts to get this thing to fire rapidly with such a high yield.” “Safety protocols are designed and implemented to protect personnel and property. If shortcuts, as you suggest, were taken, the use of this weapon outside of any carefully controlled test environment would be dangerous and highly illogical,” she replied, arching a brow. The science chief grimaced, not in the mood for another of their infamous discussions. “Logic isn’t coming into this, T’Prise. We’re the Federation’s showdog. We don’t have much choice.” “The first duty to any Starfleet officer is to the ship and its crew. This technology is still in its infancy, making the probability of an accident occurring very high. Unless we wish to become another cautionary tale, we cannot approve the use of quantum technology on Manticore,” she stated succinctly. “We don’t have a choice, T’Prise. It’s not THAT unsafe. Maybe you have a problem with quantum technology on starships due to your history,” he retorted unthinkingly. As spark of something flashed in her eye, burning hotly for a brief moment, before swiftly retreating behind the cold exterior of the Vulcan haughtier as she let his comment clatter onto the deck between them and lie untouched. Silence spanned across the moments as neither attempted to retrieve that which had been dropped. “If we are left without the ability to choose, we ought to be devising solutions to the problem,” the Vulcan finally commented, her tone once more clipped and rational. “Once the warheads are enabled, the risk Manticore is at risk it has safely cleared the ship. Given the rapidity at which this cannon fires, how can we negate this risk?” A troubled look crossed Escher’s brow again as noticed the rather unsubtle nonresponse to his unthinking accusation. Tactless as it may have been, he felt that her reaction and then avoidance of the question posed almost as much of an issue. Still, he felt that it was something that needed to be addressed at a later date. Escher sighed and turned to study the specs in an absentminded fashion. “We could always phase ‘em.” Eyes narrowed, gaze sharp, T’Prise turned towards him again. “What are you suggesting?” He calmly point at the shells as he began to explain. “We could phase them. Or, if we don’t want to manually change all their casings, maybe we could make an…interphasic barrier. Or a warp tunnel. Or something.” He glanced back over towards her trying to gauge her reaction. If possible, she became stiffer, her stance rigid, confirming that she understood what he was suggesting. “It is possible to create a highly stable slipstream tunnel if it is being projected from a stationary object.” Escher blinked and turned to look at her again. “Are you ready to work with a slipstream tunnel again? After what happened last time?” he queried calmly, now studying her. She was quiet for a moment, almost hesitating. “Using a slipstream tunnel on an unmanned craft was part of the early stages of the Peregrination Project. The tunnel was projected from a stationary point in order to test the viability of the technology. This methodology proved to be much more stable than attempting to project a quantum field from an object in motion; however, its efficacy is limited to the range of the field it can project from its location.” Still focused on her, he cautiously moved closer, trying not to appear over eager. “So it that a yes? Is this something we could do on the cannon – specifically, is this something you’d be willing to do? I don’t have the know-how to do it myself.” T’Prise’s expression remained unchanging, and she regarded him for a moment before turning back to the holoimage. “It would be possible to project a slipstream field from the cannon itself as the warheads are being launched.” Lifting a hand she indicated where the design modification would be made. “A warhead relies on rapid energy extraction from a zero-point vacuum, making its launch from the cannon the main point of instability. If it was launched into a slipstream tunnel, it would appear at its specified destination just after being enabled, reducing risk to the Manticore.” Shifting his gaze, Escher considered the specs and her suggestion, the wheels in his head spinning. “This sounds plausible. We’ll have to run it by the Admiral, but if there’s no harm and makes the warheads faster and harder to detect I assume he’ll go for it.” A smile lit his face. “See? We can make it less dangerous after all.” Still devoid of emotion, she stared at the cannon, unblinking. “I would suggest you present this to the Admiral at your earliest opportunity. Given the time frame, our schedule for implementing the proposed solution will be short.” Nodding, he headed for the door. “Agreed. I’ll head over there now.” Stopping a just before the doors he turned, watching her for a long moment. “Are you all right, T’Prise? I’m not the best at reading you, but you seem more…uptight than you did a few hours ago. I want to make sure you’re okay.” Not looking up, T’Prise curtly dismissed his concern. “The introduction of quantum technology to Manticore has the possibility of bringing unforeseen complications to the ship, its operations, and its crew. We need to determine if the appropriate personnel are trained to handle matters as they arise.” Escher watched her for another moment, and then took the last step towards the door. It opened, spilling light into the lab. Feeling he should say more, but knowing his words would fall upon unresponsive ears, he gave his parting comment. “I’m here if you need me.” The doors closed behind him, cutting off the additional light source and leaving the Vulcan to stare unblinking at the holoimage, surrounded by darkness.
  11. Those who are dead are not dead, they're just living in my head. And since I fell for that spell, I'm living there as well. Time is so short and I'm sure, there must be something more. ***** Sylvan Park had undergone a transformation, T'Prise thought, taking in the familiar, yet somewhat different landscape. Earth's northern hemisphere was in the midst of winter; instead of being surrounded by greenery and warmth, the park's atmosphere contained a definite chill, snow was falling from the sky, covering everything in a blanket of white. Her breath emerging in cloudy puffs, the muscles in her neck tense and strained, she started briskly down the path that circled the park, her boots making deep furrows in the powder piling up on the ground. Pulling her jacket more tightly around her for warmth, she doggedly picked her way along the trail, attempting to calm the swirling eddy of her thoughts mirrored by the swirling eddies of snow all around her. She needed to contemplate what had happened, to attempt to solve the puzzle of her loss of composure. If she examined the situation rationally, it was obvious that the strict control she exercised on her emotions started slipping after the Wanderlust incident; no doubt this could be attributed to her association with humans. The circumstances had been exacerbated further by her head injury, memory suppression, and integration with the Core; in sum, her emotions were now sitting on the surface, exposed and raw, leaving her vulnerable; an illogical position for a Vulcan. If her behavior in the mess hall when confronted by Dr. t'Tamarak was any indication, her control had indeed slipped to such a point that steps to regain it needed to be taken at once. It was one thing to acknowledge the issue, yet quite another to address it. She needed to examine the problem, formulate a workable hypothesis as to its cause, and determine a methodical plan of action to solve it. She required a balanced existence, defined by logic and she needed that logic restored. The problem obviously stemmed from the accident aboard the Wanderlust. She needed to acknowledge that her team was dead and that to carry Lamoreaux, Kosinski, and the others with her only clouded her perspective. Guilt, contrition, remorse were all emotions that had no place within logic, were all feelings she thought she was incapable of experiencing. All the evidence indicated that the engine malfunction was not her fault. Kosinski was responsible for the accident and although she might never know all the reasons behind it, the knowledge she did have was adequate enough to support that conclusion. It was one thing to come to this realization intellectually, it was quite another to act upon it and utilize the knowledge gained to implement a course of action. Following that course would obviously take some time and effort, yet, logic dictated that her simple solution was the correct one. To continue mentally reliving the incident and the events leading up to it, to continue examining it, was irrational and not conducive to resolving the issue. Things needed to change, logic dictated that she let it go, continue her research and learn from what happened with the Wanderlust. Her progress on theoretical models proved that the technology was viable; everything was in place for her to take the next step. She had new challenges to face, a new set of colleagues, a new team to contribute to, to which to add her expertise. Their acceptance of her and the aid and insight provided by Commander Escher proved that time could no longer stand still. She needed to move forward, to continue her research. She reached the end of the path, where the lone bench sat under a towering pine, solitary, in the stillness of the icy air. Snow was still falling lightly, the park was peaceful and still, suggesting a different type of tranquility than that found when it was green and lush, but a serenity all the same. Like the ground around it, snow piled high upon the bench. T'Prise reached down to clear off the seat, but pulled back abruptly, realizing that although she could sit on the bench, she would gain nothing by doing so. Exhaling soundlessly she turned, heading back the way she had come, her mind composed, rational thought restored once more.
  12. The vast amount of metal used to construct the room, and the objects and surfaces within it, created a severely sterile atmosphere that felt as cold as it appeared. However, the room's occupants, who all lay silently and still upon the metal tables lined neatly and endlessly, row upon row, displayed a distinct absence of reaction to their environment. Although they lacked any sort of covering normally utilized by warm-blooded species to aid in controlling the temperature of their bodies, these people appeared oblivious to their surroundings. Instead they merely lay upon the hard metal surfaces, eyes closed, faces devoid of expression, the only sound the ambient hum of the machinery that served as the infrastructure of the extensive network of wires and mechanical interfaces to which they were all connected. The only motion within the stillness of the room came from the far corner, were the four newest occupants lay, only recently integrated into the system. Close scrutiny revealed that these individuals were not like the thousands of others in the room. The two women especially possessed a very distinguishing feature, setting them apart from the others – instead of rounding into a smooth curve, as with all the others, the helix of their ears tapered into a sharp point. Their cranial structures, like their ears, were a bit more angular in shape, though one woman's brow appeared more pronounced than the other. That one's face appeared to contort slightly in pain at decreasing intervals as the integration proceeded; similar expressions graced the faces of the other two men who comprised this group of new novitiates. The other woman, however, remained stoic and impassive; displaying no facial response to whatever stimuli affected her companions. Her eyes, however, while closed, betrayed some type of neural activity occurring, as they moved back and forth rapidly beneath their lids. Assault … foreign presence … assimilation … reordering … illogical ... illogical… unrestrained and illogical… firing synapses … intemperate … controlling … controlled... …floating … spasms … pain … darkness … convulsions … disjointed … pain… paroxysms … torment… sensations … throbbing … pain … …pain… …memories… Wanderlust … Lamoreaux … guilt … dead … transgression …responsibility …guilt …contrition … Escher… mind-meld … Escher…feelings…incomprehensible … inability … guilt … irrational … illogical… unemotional … Subsides … control it… repel it… stabilize … light … pain diminish … diminish decline descend … descend… light … lessen … control … control … control… subdued … ebb … moderate … subside … safety … logic … light … Reaching for the light, the woman entered a familiar place of sanctuary where everything was as she last left it – the warmth, the tree, the park, and the bench. She sat on the bench, absorbing the orderly peace and tranquility of this place. Here, within the confines of the mental shields and barriers she had constructed for protection, she could manage the intensity of the pain and disorientation adequately. To leave this place would only bring agonizing torment that would make her incapacitated and incognizant once more. She closed her eyes, her face becoming peacefully emotionless once more, but behind the lids, her eyes still moved rapidly, mirroring the continuing anguish of her physical body.
  13. T'Prise moved stiffly along the corridor with her crewmates, ruminating on Commander Hilee's inquiries regarding her mind-melding capabilities, The "Network" had designated Hilee, Doctor t'Tamarak, Lieutenant Brutus, and herself as useful for data storage and retrieval, and had assigned them to the Central Core, towards which T'Prise assumed they were currently en route. Although she knew she was capable of successfully initiating a meld between the four of them, she did not believe it would be either prudent or necessary to do so, as it would serve no purpose in freeing them from their current predicament, and could potentially cause more harm than it would provide advantage. She understood and agreed with Hilee's desire to keep the group together, but did not believe that a meld would be the best way of assuring that outcome. Their encounter with the Network intrigued her. Based on its actions and communication with the Starfleet team, she theorized that it was some form of artificial intelligence. It had referred to "biological prejudice" and called the away team "stubborn organics." It also was of the belief that it controlled the Manticore away team, which was why she had attempted to free Commander Kenickie despite knowing that such an effort would prove futile. Instead of attempting to antagonize the Network fruitlessly with empty threats and meaningless bravado, T'Prise had chosen instead to test it, to see how it would react to certain stimuli, such as not having its orders obeyed. Knowledge was a more powerful and more effective weapon. The Network had reacted in much the manner she had anticipated; it had forced their compliance. This action suggested that it rationally and logically assumed control of all situations and expected obedience, but did not use empty threats or brute force to carrying out its wishes. If it was truly an artificial intelligence, she wondered for a moment about the mechanisms behind the Network's motivations. The who, what, why, when, and where required by scientific reasoning had yet to be determined. The corridor ended at another door, through which T'Prise followed the others into another room much larger than their previous prison. It contained row upon row of cold metal slabs resembling the sterile examination tables of a morgue. Stretched upon the tables were dozens of Oppo, sans their clothing and hair, with devices that resembled electrodes attached to their cleanly shaven temples were devices that resembled electrodes. Raising an eyebrow, T'Prise scrutinized these individuals, carefully examining the apparatus that linked them together. Her analytical mind succinctly reviewed the evidence and hypothesized that the Network planned to integrate her, and the crewmates accompanying her, into this vast neural network. She wondered what methods their captors employed to subdue consciousness and wrest control of all mental capacity from their chosen victims. She concluded that none of the subdued Oppo currently had any control of their faculties, as none appeared to be outwardly resisting and the systems controlling their environment appeared to be functioning adequately. Questions pushed to the forefront of her mind, each seeking an answer. Through what mechanism did the Network link neural capabilities? It had observed that the away team was not from Oppo – was it aware that there would be physiological differences between the members of the away team and the Oppo, and had it made the necessary adjustments? Or would this make them able to resist what the Network wished of them? Would she and the others be able to retain enough consciousness to study and perhaps disrupt the neural network once integrated? What would be the ramifications of integration? Would it cause any permanent psychological or physical damage? The sound of the door closing behind her turned T'Prise away from her internal inquisition. They were now sealed in the Central Core, and the Vulcan surmised that she would have answers to her questions soon enough.
  14. Standing to one side to allow the medical personnel to perform their duties, T’Prise watched as Drs. Chalice and t’Tamarak attended to Lieutenant Commander Escher, her demeanor even more clinically detached than theirs. She could only conclude that Escher’s current condition was the direct result of his attempts to cope with the stresses placed upon him in the last few days; his propensity for imbibing as a coping mechanism was somewhat excusable, given the circumstances. His fortitude in allowing her to initiate the meld and willingness to participate could only be commended, but for a species as emotional as humans, a mind meld could be very disconcerting (hence her decision to stay with him and ensure he did not suffer any serious side effects). The mind meld in and of itself was still extremely puzzling to T’Prise. She was still uncertain as to how her subconscious had determined that the meld would aid in returning her to a lucid state, and how it had chosen Escher to guide her through the memories. Like Lamoreaux, Escher had somehow changed from colleague to friend without T’Prise being fully conscious of it — that was the only logical explanation for what occurred. Despite its being a fairly well known Vulcan telepathic ability, few species realized or recognized the significance of a meld. It was a highly personal event, exposing each participant to the other’s innermost thoughts and leaving each with an understanding and awareness of the other. While it helped to give participants a new perspective and establish a rapport between melders, it was very rarely done between individuals who were not related in some way, or with individuals of another species. To expose oneself and be exposed in such a manner was not considered an inconsequential event by a culture that valued logic and control above all else. A meld was a type of physiological merging for Vulcans. Humans who experienced a meld, however, sometimes attached an emotional connection to it, which was irrational, as Vulcans had no emotions to engage. Perhaps this explained the subtle differences in Escher’ss attitude and manner towards her of late. Obviously it was a manifestation of the human attraction towards that which they perceived of as different, a side effect experienced as a result of the meld. Otherwise, he would never mistakenly believe he had any emotional ties to someone who, in his opinion, was the equivalent of a sophisticated computer and was unable to accommodate his emotional needs. Logic dictated this to be the only rational explanation for his behavior. Notwithstanding his inaccurate assessment of his own feelings, Escher was her friend and she would protect him, in any way she could. She would not fail him the way she had failed Lamoreaux. Her friendship with Lamoreaux had been a contributing factor in the engineer’s death; he had protected her without thought for himself, a truly illogical response spurred by emotion. She would not allow the same thing to happen with Escher. While it was not logical to conclude that her friendship with Escher would ultimately result in his death, it was now very apparent that what happened aboard the Wanderlust was not an accident. She needed to assume responsibility for what happened and ensure that the truth of the matter was brought to light. However, discovering the truth would introduce new variables T’Prise had yet to consider. To that end, she needed to start protecting Escher, even if it meant allowing Dr. t’Tamarak to have her way. Stepping forward, she moved to the biobed where her friend was now resting. “I believe that the Commander would benefit from a neurological scan, to ascertain if he is suffering any side effects from a mind meld.”
  15. Meritorious Achievement Award A sensation of disorientation ran through her, making her unable to retain a tangible thought... The air was heavy and stifling, laced with a small amount of humidity; it wrapped around T'Prise like a thick blanket, almost comforting. She opened her eyes, fully expecting to be home in Raal, but instead of the breathtaking vistas of the Vulcan desert landscape, she was surrounded by green. She blinked rapidly, shaking her head to bring her surroundings into focus. Although not the home of her formative years, she was indeed familiar with this place as well; Sylvan Park, a small nature conservation area near the Daystrom and a location she frequented regularly. It was a peaceful locale, favorable for meditation and contemplation, especially during Earth's warmest meteorological season, when the heat persuaded many humans to retreat indoors. However, although she had often sat on this bench in the shade of the centuries-old fagaceae quercus above her, this time was different. Looking around, she attempted to determine the source of her sense of disparity between this situation and her previous experiences, but was unable to rationally articulate a reason for it. The human expression, she believed, was that the circumstances did not "feel" correct. The park looked as it always did, calm and serene. She was alone, the only sound that of a slight breeze rustling the branches above her but providing no respite from the heat. The conditions were ideal for meditation, yet she found that she could not bring her mind to focus on any one thing. Questions, ideas, thoughts, and impressions crowded around each other inside her head, yet the moment she attempted to reach out for one, it became insubstantial, hiding itself amongst the others, eluding her grasp. While her outward appearance projected a stoic demeanor, turbulence reigned inwardly. Her thoughts were fractious; chaos was in control, a dangerous state for any Vulcan. She tried to end the perplexity, to seek order, to seek logic, but was rewarded for her efforts with sharp pains shooting through her skull. Wincing slightly, she closed her eyes, bringing her hands up to gently rub her temples. "Do you know what a wind-up toy is?" a male voice questioned from beside her. Raising her weary head up with a snap, she turned sharply to find Chris Lamoreaux sitting next to her, sprawled lazily across the bench with a subtle smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He should not be here…floated out of the miasma of her thoughts, echoing the idea that something was not quite right. "I do not believe you are supposed to be here," she offered by way of greeting, raising an eyebrow questioningly at his sudden appearance. "Why not? It's a public park, anyone can come here," he retorted, grinning cheekily at her. She glared back in response, her eyes full of censure. "I do not object to your presence in respect to being here in the park. I was merely stating that you should not be here with me," she said authoritatively, more conviction flooding into her tone the impression grew stronger within her. "That isn't a very rational reason. Really, why shouldn't I be here?" She opened her mouth to tell him, but before she could formulate an answer, the impression was gone, disappearing once more into the unsettled morass of her mind. She closed her mouth and smoothed her facial expression, unable to provide him with an adequate explanation. "That is what I thought. You don't know why, do you? You don't have any inkling of what is going on." Shaking her head in the negative, she looked at him. "I believe a logical explanation exists for my current circumstances, yet I do not have one at the present time." He laughed, falling back against the bench in his mirth. "Logic, huh? You never fail to resort to logic, even in the face of the inexplicable. Nothing ever changes, does it?" She glared at him anew, her eyebrows drawing together in a disapproving line. "Some scientists have argued that change is the one constant in this universe," she informed him stiffly. "That isn't what I meant and you know it." He smiled, laughter still lurking in his eyes. "But you still haven't answered my question; do you know what a wind-up toy is?" She nodded, deciding to answer him, on the supposition that this strange line of inquiry had some sort of purpose. "Yes, a fellow classmate at the Academy had a penchant for them. She once demonstrated their use for me. They are a small device produced for the purpose of amusing children. Typically they are created in the likeness of an animal or fictional character and contain a spring, which is tightened by means of a lever, which causes some part of the object to move or spin." Lamoreaux shook his head at her, amused by her encyclopedic recitation. "It is always amazing, your inexorable thirst for knowledge. While most Vulcans believe that logic is the beginning of wisdom, you live that belief. You relentlessly use logic to find the wisdom you seek. Something as insignificant as a wind-up toy and yet you took the time to research its origins and divine its purpose." Still smiling, he continued on, swiftly moving to his next question. "You are a physicist; tell me, how do the laws of motion relate to this wind-up toy?" Curious as to what sort of point he was attempting to make, she nonetheless answered his question. "A body at rest will remain at rest until an external force is applied. In the case of the spring which causes motion in the device, that external force is the lever. The force exerted by the lever is directly proportional to the rate of change in momentum on the device, times the acceleration, which dictates the direction and speed of movement. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction; in the case of this device, the action of winding the spring causes the spring to coil tightly in an unnatural position, which in turn causes the spring to exert force upon the device in order to return to its normal resting state." "So what you are saying is that the ultimate purpose of a wind-up toy once the lever has been turned is to run its course, so it may be at rest, so it may stand still. What if the toy is wound too tightly or halted prematurely by an alteration to its workings, what reactions can we infer from such an action?" "It would not function properly and the momentum would build until such a time as it could be released. Ultimately, by some means, the spring will attempt to return to its unwound state." "Exactly," he said with a grin, before falling silent as he closed his eyes and settled back against the bench. She sat next to him, trying to decipher the purpose of his questions, yet unable to do so. Long minutes stretched as she quietly contemplated, the chaos inside her mind swirling in the background. The more she tried to find a rational reason for his commentary, the more blurry the edges of her reality became. The feeling of disorientation returned; the park began to fade, leaving only the bench and its occupants. Turning towards Lamoreaux once more, she saw that he had begun to fade as well. "You're right, I shouldn't be here," he said as her eyes met his. "But logic dictated an explanation and I have given it to you." "I am having difficulty comprehending your meaning!" she cried, her bewilderment growing stronger as he continued to fade away. "Part of you understands," he said softly. "The part that brought me here as a reminder." "Of what are you to remind me?" But he was gone. The bench next to her was empty, no trace remaining of the man who had sat there only moments before. "A reminder that you too are running to stand still."