T'aral

T'Aral knelt down to the Captain, her face a picture of Vulcan passivity. The fact that their situation was grim would not be aided by emotional distractions. "Commander Wesley, Leutenants Belo, Kvar, Haruno, and myself are reasonably uninjured. Leutenant Tauariki has suffered a minor head injury. Ensign Akade has a minor concussion. You are suffering the symptoms of Labrynthitis brought on by traumatic disruption of your left vestibular system. Leutenant MrKath is the worst injured of us, having suffered an AAN Grade IIIb concussion and a compound fracture of his left tibula. "As the consensus is that we were struck with an EM pulse, radiation exposure is possible. I will be investigating that shortly, and may be administering hyronalin injections if needed or if my tests are inconclusive." T'Aral paused for a moment before continuing. "At the moment, Leutenant MrKath is our greatest concern. He is receiving neural stabilizer treatments. I am reluctant to administer trianoline, as conciousness would not be a benefit to him in his current state. "I must recommend in the strongest terms allowable that we make return to the Commanche Creek our first priority. Leutenant MrKath requires extensive care urgently, and we are in a weakened condition should we encounter hostile natives. With your permission, I will share my recommendations with Commander Wesley." She sincerely hoped that the Captain would take her words to heart. While an expansion splint was all good and well for the moment, MrKath needed proper medical care in the Creek Medical center to prevent complications. If they spent any amount of time on Epsilon Scorpii, T'Aral would be forced to make do with what she had ... which would not be preferable for anyone.

T'Aral looked at her commanding officer solemnly, nodding at her reply. "You are correct in all points except one: you are in no condition to assist in physical activity. At the current time we have sufficient crew members to carry our wounded, which consist of Lt. MrKath and yourself. You are correct to delegate command until your condition improves; but you must allow yourself to heal if you expect to improve." That statement contained the lion's share of T'Aral's calm when it came to uncooperative patients. She had no desire to get into a battle of wills with her Captain, but she would if she had to. There was no question that care would be first provided to the others, but T'Aral was not as much of a medicating caregiver as her peers. Medicines put stress on a body; T'Aral preferred medicating only when necessary, and under very controlled conditions. This was neither. Snapping open the tricorder, T'Aral began scanning for radiation poisoning among the crew. She would talk with the Commander shortly about their situation, and perhaps she could offer a solution or two.

T'Aral unwrapped herself from the tight bundle she had made of herself. The position she had assumed was one she had run across during a study of human flight habits as they related to crisis situations. The 'Crash Position', while antiquated, was a fairly tested preparation which provided the participant with the greatest opportunity of survival with minimal injury. The experience left T'Aral with a few slight bruises and a hyper-extended shoulder muscle. It hurt, but it was far from disabling. She would be able to work through the pain for now, and have the injury and any subsequent damage treated later. Part of her unwrapping involved releasing the grip Lt. Haruno had engaged with her hand. T'Aral did so with as much gentleness as she could apply to the situation, not wishing for Sakura to perceive her action as any kind of rejection or discomfort on the doctor's part. While it was clearly the act of an emotional being, Lt. Haruno's need did not offend T'Aral's need for logic - for it was a logical act. Emotional beings need the comfort of others in times of crisis, even if the other was one as cold and stoic as a Vulcan. While securing and preparing the medical kit, T'Aral considered what kind of advantage could be made of this experience. She had, in fact, had a personal desire to develop an association with Lt. Haruno for some time. While she was focused on her duties both as a medical officer and as a Vulcan spiritual guide, there was a part of her which desired greater fellowship with other crew members in preference to being alone. Among the crew members T'Aral found Sakura to be particularly favorable ... as she would be able to challenge T'Aral's abilities in Suus Mahna. As she looked about the cabin of the shuttle it was clear that she would have her hands full. The other officers had depended on crash webbing, and the results were plain. Ens. Akade was clear of speech, but was moving her head in a disoriented manner. Lt. Mrkath was incoherent, and Captain Caelstorm was spitting up blood and vomiting. It was likely that all three had sustained concussions, and they probably weren't the only ones. Neural regenerative treatment was the advised protocol, but the emergency kit only contained a neural stabilizer. At the moment she was only equiped to keep injuries from getting worse, and given the extent of the injuries it was possible that the stabilizer wouldn't have enough power to treat everyone. T'Aral gripped her fingers absently, considering her options. There was another way to improve the condition of her crewmates, and thus aid in their recovery. This was desirable, as whatever force had brought the shuttle down was no doubt on their way to inspect their handiwork. T'Aral was an expert at neuropressure, with an insight and natural talent greater than many of her instructors. Much of her time alone was spent carefully studying the neural pathways of the various species she served with in case her talents would have to be applied. There was, however, one simple risk: neuropressure opened the paths between the minds of those involved, and when focusing on what she was doing T'Aral would have to keep herself open to her clerical training. Would her crewmates discover the secret that she was hiding? What would they say if they knew that the logical, analytical Vulcans included a deep spirituality ... and that their medical officer was in fact a Priestess? While concussions were the most likely concern, T'Aral knew that her first focus had to be more immediate and life threatening injuries. Recussitate as needed, stop all bleeding, and splint all broken limbs. Bandage and sling as needed, then stabilize those with heat trauma. Looking over the situation, she noted that the Captain and Commander were both speaking coherently. This was good, for the last thing T'Aral needed beyond everything else was to be in charge. Moving from her seat, she looked over Lt. Haruno to make sure she was not seriously injured. She was deeply concerned that Sakura wasn't hurt ... for they all needed their security officer. While it would be preferable to stay until rescued, T'Aral doubted that they would remain with the ship after being brought down. They would bandage the wounded as best they could and then move into a more secure location. Given that they were shot down, finding a more secure sanctuary to be rescued from would be the logical thing to do.

T'Aral examined the First Contact data for Epsilon Scorpii Four with clinical detachment. While it was unlikely that the ship's medical officer would be involved in a diplomatic mission, it was always a possibility that she would be called to serve in some capacity. It was best to be prepared. The Wei'ans were Class 3a humanoids: mamallian and dual gendered. Visibly similar to humans, the one thing that distinguished the Wei'ans from humans were their noses: specifically, an absence of flaring nostrils due to a lack of protruding cartilidge. Instead, the Wei'ans nostril structures were long narrow slits which followed the contour of a nearly flat facial profile. Of course, the information she had was only based on initial contact. There was no way at this point to determine if their blood was based on hemoglobin or hemocyanin, or if they were in any other way biologically similar. It was entirely possible that the statements in the report she had read were simply assumptions made by the first-contact team. That, however, was for Leutenant Belo to concern herself with. T'Aral's function was as a medical officer, and although there might have been questions to pique her Vulcan curiousity, there was only one matter which required any attention on her part: the potential threat of the Se'an Chan. The greatest sign that the Wei'an were mamallian was, perhaps, the fact that they had an organized terrorist faction. Something about emotional mamallian species tended to foster this facet of agressive behavior: combat through terror of non-combatants. It was ( as was true of most emotional behaviors ) entirely illogical: those who would be the most likely victims of terrorist behavior were those least involved in whatever conflict was taking place. It was, however, an annoying contradiction which demonstrated that terrorists were capable of logical thought - their targets were chosen for ease of attack. Those whom terrorists were actually at odds with were often too well guarded to be attacked. Attacking innocent bystanders, while illogical, would provide a feeling of accomplishment - even if it accomplished nothing. This analysis, though, would be of little use ... as would any analysis of the actions or rhetoric of the Se'an Chan. If the organization had any true purpose, it would've been set aside or addressed in the face of a global challenge. Like most terrorist organizations, the Se'an Chan had long since passed the point of any meaningful purpose. They existed in order to give their leaders a purpose: their leaders had felt the power of people dying for their cause, and now they were psychologically addicted to that sensation. They would keep themselves away from danger, but would continue to expound hate upon hate so that they could keep their hold on the authority they desperately needed. If the problems they rallied others against were addressed, they would make up new ones: whatever it took, for without their positions as terrorist leaders their lives would have no meaning. It was a pathetic existence, but one which made them a hazard to all others around them. The medical station would have to be on constant alert for the duration of the visit. In a deep, quiet, hidden place within T'Aral's mind she allowed herself a brief sigh: even if it were completely uneventful, this was going to be a long mission. She switched off the monitor and stepped out of her office to brief the staff. It would be best if they knew right away what they would be in for.

Suddenly Francois gains the ability to sing "Tiptoe Through The Tulips" like Tiny Tim.

THEN ... T'Aral looked over the encampments on New Vulcan, observing the orderly development of the colony. Conditions were primitive, but Vulcans were more than just logical - they were extremely durable. Their race had been on the brink of extinction before and had returned; they would do so again. "Mene sakkhet ur-seveh, T'aralam." She turned about in response to the traditional greeting to find herself facing an elderly, perhaps even ancient Vulcan. "Health and long life to you; forgive me, but do I know you?" His deeply creased face took on an almost bemused expression. "No. I have, however, become aware of you and have decided that it would be advantagious for us to meet." Curiousity deepened within her. "Advantagious for whom?" "For you. I am aware of who you are and the role you play within Starfleet. In this role you will eventually find yourself challenged with the emotional nature of other races - particularly humans. This is, of course, assuming you have not reached this point already ... which is unlikely." The old man stepped to a moderate outcropping and sat down. "Relationships with humans is as subject which I am deeply familiar with. I thought you may have questions; if so, perhaps I can help you discover answers." That statement began a conversation which lasted for six hours as T'Aral explored the man's insights and experiences. He had clearly lived among humans for much of his life, and despite the regular incidents and occassions for irritation he had made peace with his fate. It was clear that he did not consider his experiences a burden, but rather viewed his own life as having been richer than that which many of their peers experienced. Richer for the opportunity to interact with a highly emotional species, and richer for the opportunity to grow form the experience. The hour eventually grew late, and T'Aral could see that her benefactor was growing tired. "You should rest; it would be illogical to risk your health when our people need experienced leaders such as yourself." He nodded, allowing T'Aral to help him upright. "It is easy to fall into dissatisfaction, T'Aral. In these times, it is important to remember one thing ..." NOW ... T'Aral watched placidly as the shuttles returned with the Away Teams. She observed the members stepping out, mentally critiquing their 'implants'. They were rush attachments, put on by crewmembers who were simply reading instructions. If such a situation came up again, T'Aral would have to interviene on their behalf an take on the job of installing the fake appliances personally. There were synthetic-skin compounds which would've made the presentation far more convincing. She straightened as the Captain stepped out ... straight and unharmed from the excursion or any significant destracting activities. Saying nothing, she waited until Calestorm walked by and then fell into her usual position and role: available if needed, but largely unseen and unheard. Yet in the case of a returning away team this was a position she was content with, for everyone was returning largely in the same condition they had left in. Curiously, the situation brought her thoughts briefly back to the New Vulcan colony and the ancient elder who could talk for hours on the subject of human beings. T'Aral did not smile, did not smirk, nor in any way did she betray the thoughts which came to be deep within the privacy of her mind. You are correct, honorable teacher ... there is a first time for everything.

"You wanted to know what we'd look like colorized? We look like a $#%* bunch of cartoons, you dope!"

Leutenant T'Aral looked upon the Commanche Creek officers preparing on board the Hard Six with a certain level of dissatisfaction. It was illogical, of course; she was simply present to fulfill her duties as medical officer ... providing support to the mission as assigned. Her opinions on the matter carried no weight, and were largely irrelevant. And yet ... The entire mission structure was illogical. As best as T'Aral could determine, the assignment was to identify who was responsible for sabotaging the M-5 on board the Enterprise and then ( as time and resources allowed ) administer what could be best described as 'Fronteer Justice'. All this, however, struck T'Aral as simplistic. Pursuing the 'Wire-Weres' was sensible, as they appeared to be the only beings capable of the act. They were the most logical suspects, except that making a move against the Federation had no logic behind it. Surely the Federation would respond, and the resulting response would be injurous to their organization. Logically, there was a force - an institution or organization who had hired the cybernetic mercenaries. The first goal should be to identify that factor and deal with them directly. This, however, was a task for Federation Inteligence ... not for line officers of a battleship. The Comanche Creek crew was trained for combat, not espionage investigation. Further, under such conditions only specially trained Federation officers should be going on the assignment ... not the Comanche Creek command staff. During her time at the academy, T'Aral often looked with curiousity at the reactions many of the elder Vulcan statesmen had when the question of Starfleet came up. She never understood the negativity they maintained when presented with the potential of working with Starfleet until now. However much good may be accomplished by the Federation, it was typically done in the most illogical of ways. There was nothing to be done. She was a ship's doctor - an extraneous appendage until such time as someone on board is injured and survives long enough to reach the Medical deck. Within the structure of Starfleet this was the way things would be, and there was nothing that could be done about it. As herself, however, there was one thing that T'Aral could send with the Captain ... a gesture, if nothing more. "Kudaya fi'khart-lan ... kudaya fi'ek'etek" Blessings on the Captain ... blessings on us all.

... narrowly escaping the conclusion of a Romulan tribunal through a classic Southern delaying tactic known as a filibuster - which, he was later advised, would not be tolerated in the Vulcan Senate.

I have to admit ... I'm a sucker for the classics. Scooter Wins!

To my memory, Dr. McCoy took command of the Enterprise *once*: in part 1 of "The Menagerie", when Spock surrendered the Enterprise to him rather than see Kirk suffocate in a shuttlecraft. His tenure of command was both brief and uneventful.

Obviously, this needs a little kick-start ( if no one objects ) ...

T'Aral examined the Starfleet report on Were-Wires with some amount of disquiet. Most of the report was nothing more than T'Aral had come to expect from emotional races, but to discover that Starfleet believed Vulcans were involved with these beings had come as a shock to her. Some would consider using technological enhancements to be simply logical, but T'Aral knew differently. So did many among the Vulcan race, for they knew what became of a person who enhanced themselves with technology. Having mechanical parts ... parts which felt no pain nor gave any musculative feedback ... tended to unbalance a being psychologically. The implications were highly disturbing. Vulcan intelect was always held tightly in check by their logic. An unbalanced Vulcan was inevitably violent, and there was no doubt that they would have to be neutralized. She examined the report at length, and then began an orderly examination of the Wire-Weres to determine what was known about their neural enhancements. Neutralization did not have to mean death, but it had to be immediately effective. T'Aral's views of their coming opponents held neither compassion nor contempt, but if there was a way to recover a being from what had to be a state of insanity T'Aral preferred to do so. To do otherwise would be a waste of a sentient being - aiding them was simply logical.

For some of us, birthdays pass far more quietly. Best wishes to you both.

I have voted ... I have gone to the restroom ... and both have left me with a similar experience. I feel vaguely relieved, having passed on something that somebody will inevitably find distateful.

I still want to know what Egyptian beer tastes like - it was flavored using cinnamon instead of hops.

No doubt about it, Travis: you have your work cut out for you! Kudos to the Captain for one seriously obscure reference that only us Ancient Ones would know. Mowgli and King Louie can keep Man's Red Fire ... I got me the Real Deal!

Ok: high time for a winner, and the winner is ... TRAVIS! ( Billboard was good, Hoffa was good, but I just hate Product Placement Advertisement! )

I would like to thank everyone who made this possible. :P So it's my turn ...

It was four hours into the second shift, 'evening' as the ship's crew reckoned time. T'Aral had finished tending to various injuries sustained by crewmembers from their encounter with the Comanche Creek. She was tired; a rare state for Vulcans, but one she was becoming more and more familiar with. The Hard Six was limited when it came to crew space and resources. Put more simply, the Captain couldn't afford a medical staff - spending just enough for a highly trained Vulcan nurse who worked cheap. It was a place for T'Aral to attempt to lose herself, except that there was one problem - while evading the galaxy was possible, it was rather a difficult matter to run away from yourself. Steln was dead. The thought intruded on T'Aral's mind again. Steln was a fine Vulcan, and an exceptional mind by any standard. He was an idealist with a dedicated soul, and a Syrrannite; one of the few remaining. The Empire was brutal in the initial subjugation of Vulcan, and although the logic of Vulcan allowed for the race as a whole to co-operate with the Empire there were still those who held to the philosophies of peace and co-operating with other races rather than subjugating them. It was unfortunate, as there was never room in the Vulcan mind for compromise. Vulcans either believed in the logic of serving the Empire or the logic of opposing them -there was no middle ground to be had. Steln was dead. T'Aral was an abnormality among Vulcans - she was not entirely sure where she stood on the matter of the Empire. Unlike others, she followed the logic of the moment: proceeding as she had based on whatever was logical at the moment. She could not predict the future, so it seemed illogical to align her views one way or the other: simply respond to whatever situation she was in logically. There was no path, however, and that is why T'Aral didn't end up serving as an officer of the Empire or as a Syrrannite rebel - she was simply adrift, an attendant on a merchant ship. Steln was dead. She served as best as she could, moving from case to case without comment or critique. Yet there was a growing disturbance inside her ever since she received the news of Steln's death. There were fixed things in T'Aral's life: Vulcan, Mount Seleya, and Steln - these were the pillars of T'Aral's life. Now one was gone, and she was beginning to dearly miss the others. Homesickness was illogical, yet like so many things it didn't have to be logical in order to be very real. Stepping over to a small crate in the back of her room, T'Aral pushed a small panel which revealed a book of bound parchments. It was Steln's last gift to her: a complete transcript of the Writings of Surak - he often commented that these would open her eyes and give her the one thing T'Aral never had in all her life; purpose. Steln was dead, Vulcan was light-years away, and Mount Seleya was a memory that she would probably never see again. T'Aral opened the pages and read; perhaps there was something still left for her to hold on to.

I am sad and relieved ... sad because my son was stung by a hornet, but relieved that he isn't intensely alergic.

We're having STEAK tonight! Uh, don't tell Bessie ...

"Is it possible that you are being too critical of the situation?" T'Aral had chosen to take a few days of rest in the New Topeka station. While Shore Leave was an unusual request for a Vulcan, she had more than enough accumulated time and there were no issues on board the Comanche Creek which required her attention. It was important that she was allowed to take time away from the ship, for a meeting with Steln was always a personal matter. As she sipped her Vhalesia tea, T'Aral considered his response to her situation. "If I did not think it was possible, I would not have contacted you. Were I dealing with a patient, I would say that they are too close to the situation to be objective; therefore, logically in this case I am unable to be objective." Steln nodded. "Recognition of our own limitations is the first step towards improvement. "You are in a very difficult position. As much as command officers may deny it, medical staff are non-essential personnel ... necessary only when circumstances become unfavorable. In an ideal situation there would be no sick bay - no reserved space for medical needs at all. This is not a criticism, but rather an observation that medical functions occur outside of the vessel's normal functions. As such, interaction with other crewmembers is not a natural part of your role; it becomes something which must be deliberately pursued." T'Aral sipped her tea and then looked at Steln uneasily. "I am not, as the humans would say, a social person." Steln held back a small smile, offering instead the comfort of Vulcan stoicism. "That is the nature of our people - you are hardly unique in that trait. Within our people this is accepted and normal, but in that we are unique. You are serving on board a Starfleet vessel, and are required to interact with other races - most of which are highly emotional. In some models, emotional interaction is a full third of all communication, and considered the 'strongest' third. If you do not relate to others in this manner, your effectiveness will always be diminished." T'Aral paused. "That, unfortunately, is the most likely outcome." Steln nodded again. "That is a logical evaluation. It is important, therefore, that you understand that the difficulty does not lie with them, but with you - or rather, with the fact that you are a Vulcan. Emotionalism is the normal state of sentient beings throughout the galaxy. We are the exceptions, not the rule. Perhaps nothing will change, and perhaps nothing should; but the difficulties that you are encountering should not be taken as evidence against the character of those you serve with. You are the exception; it is logical that all difficulties stem from that exception."

Leutenant Gina Baliss stepped into the CMO office to find T'Aral reviewing inventory levels. "Here's the report on Leutenant Shontuk's physical - generally in good health, with a bit of scarring on his right antennae. It does not appear to hinder him." T'Aral nodded. "Noted; if it becomes troublesome, electrostimulant massage is recommended." Baliss noted the recommendation. "May I ask you something?" T'Aral nodded again. "Of course, Leutenant." Gina sat down in front of T'Aral's desk. "Why didn't you perform the physical yourself? That is customary with senior officers." T'Aral set her inventory scan to pause, then regarded Lt. Baliss directly. "I requested that you perform the physical for two reasons. First: for reasons that I do not understand, Senior staff officers object to my performing my duties. Second: Andorians and Vulcans have only recently ended a very long conflict. There is no need to complicate interaction on board the ship by forcing the new Security Chief to accept my presence." Gina looked at T'Aral quizzically. "Isn't it illogical to harbor resentment?" T'Aral simply nodded in reply. "It is also illogical to expect emotional beings to act logically. I did not say that I was troubled with the Security Chief's assignment - only that he may be troubled with mine. In the best interests of the ship, I attempt to mantain a respectful distance between myself and those who object to me." Gina chuckled to T'Aral. "At this rate, you're going to end up shut in this room 24/7." T'Aral re-activated her screen and returned to her work. "If that is necessary for the good of the ship and the effectiveness of the crew, then that is the way things will be."

T'Aral was back in her office on board the Comanche Creek. Although Starfleet had long since done away with the use of paper, they were far from removed from its function. She had already spent hours logging individual medical files on the Vega Cadets, and now it was time to go through assignment reports. As she reviewed the mission log, T'Aral noted several comments that suggested that Ensigns Khole and Ellis performed in a less than ideal manner. It was true that they were not as responsive to the orders of their superiors as would be preferred. However, after interviewing each of them T'Aral decided that they had proceeded based on their best judgement, and had accepted and obeyed all direct orders. Whether other officers disagreed with their opinions or not was irrelevant for the purpose of evaluation: T'Aral decided to simply log the report without comment. Finishing with the report she found herself struggling again with her emotional side, perturbed that the Captain insisted on holding her back from the Away Team. Given that there was triage to be done, it was logical that the most experienced medical officer present should oversee. The Captain thought otherwise ... but why? After reviewing the reports the only conclusion she could discern was that Captain Caelstorm did not believe that she was capable of acting in a command capacity. The away mission was mutually led by Leutenants Belo and Tauariki. They were successful, but if T'Aral was present then the leadership role would immediately fall to her as she was a Full Leutenant. Was this the Captain's concern - that she was not capable of handling a position of command? Perhaps; and as the Captain had not struck her as being one to make ill-conceived decisions ( at least, not when it came to matters of her crew ), the flaw logically rested with T'Aral. Finishing with the reports, she left her office to return to her quarters. There was much meditation that needed to be done. T'Aral needed to understand why she was not considered capable of leadership ... and more importantly, why it was that lacking this trait was important to her.