T'aral

Further ( and probably more important ) Cadets are to all be human. Someone wishing to play a Vulcan would have problems with this.

T'Aral moved about the crew, making scans and taking readings. She found what she expected to find: elevated levels of immune-reaction cells in all the crew, even among the Klingons. This was the first measurable indication of Agnesian Blood Fever, and it was entirely possible that the entire crew was infected ... ... or, each race may have just spent three months in close proximity with a wholely different species, and their immune systems are adjusting to a new range of incidental organisms. This would be a common biological reaction which occurs every day on countless starships throughout the galaxy, and nothing to worry about at all. Such were the challenges faced by starship medical officers; the question of whether or not a threat actually existed hinged on T'Aral's findings, and whether or not she could be trusted. What T'Aral said was partially true: there were cases of blood fever in the wake of the Demeter, but they were hardly of an epidemic scale and whether or not the two were in any way related was a weak link at best. Ordinarily T'Aral would've dismissed the possiblity as illogical, especially given that there was no medical emergency visible among the Demeter crew. As she moved through the crew, she wondered if the Klingon medical officer suspected that T'Aral had stretched the facts beyond reasonable conclusions. It was possible, but he could prove nothing and the first scans were typically inconclusive. It was no suprise that the facilities on board the Klingon vessel were incapable of producing a conclusive scan: Klingons were about war, not peace. As she moved through the crew, T'Aral did her best to watch the reactions of the human survivors. She deeply wished and hoped that one would be a Vulcan. She was here to discover the truth of what was going on, and unfortunately humans were poor sources of truth. Long ago their own psychologists had learned of victim-dependency bonding, and had given it a name: Stockholm Syndrome. The word of the humans was of no value at all. The Klingons could've killed half the crew and tortured the rest, keeping those who bonded alive. Those remaining would be emotionally flawed, and their verbal testimony would be meaningless. T'Aral knew what needed to be done - she needed to know the thoughts of one survivor. Then she would know what transpired between the Klingons and the crew of the Demeter. It would have to be done on the Commanche Creek where there would be no interruptions, and somehow she would need to find a willing participant. Violating a mind without permission through any means was a deep enough breach of ethics: to do so with a Mind Meld was unthinkable. She continued to move through the crew. If only there was a Vulcan ...

Pinky: are you thinking what I'm thinking? I 'fink so, Brain, but if Lori Petty and Dennis Rodman got married, what would their children look like?

T'Aral stepped away from the turbolift, returning to Sickbay in order to prepare for possible confrontations. Klingons were inevitable, though perhaps the Captain would prove an able diplomat. The ship had not, to date, encountered a situation where diplomacy was needed. Soon she would truly know what manner of Captain she was serving with. In the meantime there were emergency medkits to distribute. All had been prepared, but it would be better if they were sent out to various critical locations for easy access ... Another level of T'Aral's mind was considering her encounter with Commander Wesley and Leutenant Kvar. Already there were discussions throughout the vessel regarding the two of them; crewmembers comparing observations and discussing what may be occurring. While the activities of Audraya and Tifa were their own matter, there were extenuating circumstances. A relationship with a command officer did not show well on a service record, as the question of how such a relationship affected any recommendations from the XO would always be brought up. In addition, there was the issue of undue influence: a direct superior is rarely refused anything, as that could result in professional repercussions. T'Aral did not consider Commander Wesley to be such a person, but that did not mean that the thought did not occur to Leutenant Kvar. Admittedly these were concerns, possibly brought on by T'Aral's own emotional reactions. As much as she retained her Vulcan detachment, it would be a lie to say that she was not, in a way, lonely on board. T'Aral had no need for intimate relations, but there would not be any objection to gaining a friend or two on board simply to talk with. Perhaps she was jealous of anyone who successfully associated with others. It was illogical to deny her own feelings on the matter, as ignoring the possibility would nullify any possibility of successfully neutralizing such negative feelings ... Simultaneously, she considered the lighting problem. It was impossible to consider what the design staff was thinking when they put in the direct lighting, but correcting the issue was simple. The lighting could simply be turned off, but T'Aral thought beyond simply solving the problem. Switching off the lights would leave neutral spaces - aestetically displeasing, which would reduce the efficiency of the emotionally-based crew. The best solution would be to replace the blazing lights with something diffuse, and perhaps useful. Status lights would be best: indicators which would illumiate alert staus. Red and yellow were obvious, while normal operation could be a diffused white light. General Quarters was the most challenging: green would be the first choice, but in Terran society green carried positive connotations. Orange was another choice, but that color tended to rest between Red and Yellow which would not be techically correct. Perhaps turquoise ... A deeper part of her mind was examining her own recent lack of discipline. Of late T'Aral had not been practicing her priestly duties as she should. True, there was little call for it. She was one of a scant few Vulcans who were not actively engaged in the rebuilding of their society, and those were scattered throughout Starfleet. While it would be illogical to apply an unnecessary amount of thought towards her clerical pursuits, it was important that she continue the effort both to be ready for encounters with other Vulcans and for her own steadiness. While she was maintaining her meditation disciplines, a deeper focused effort would be beneficial ... All the while, T'Aral's heart was pondering a more personal question. It was, perhaps, an error not to seek re-assignment or to seek a place on board the Comanche Creek for Steln. Aside from the mere practicality of his presence, there was a sense of calm while she was with him. However: this represented an emotional desire. Before she could entertain the thought she would need to conquer the emotionalism of it ... All these thoughts came to a halt as a com signal came through to Sickbay. The Klingons had been encountered: all departments needed to be at full readiness.

Personally, I feel this list is remiss ... there are no Gorns.

In the defusely lit medical office, T'Aral examined the day's duty logs. They were crossing into the Klingon/Federation neutral zone, and she wanted to prepare for any predictable complications. As she examined the reports over the last several weeks, the Vulcan Leutenant began to see a disturbing pattern. "Leutenants Baliss and Ellis to my office, please." Within moments the page was answered. "Leutenant Baliss - you treated Ensign Dallor for a 'headache' a total of six times in the last three weeks. No cause has been determined?" The medical technician nodded. "Simple analgesics were effective, and repeated scans have offered no direct cause for his malady." T'Aral simply nodded. "Ensign Ellis - you treated Ensign Usa for a similar condition eight times in two weeks?" Ellis also nodded. "Tricorder scans indicated minor irritations, but so far a root cause has proven ellusive." T'Aral nodded again, then stood to address both technicians. "In fact, there have been a total of fifty-nine such logs ... all of them involving bridge personnel. Sciences, Environmental Engineering, the Engineering duty station, and Damage Control appear particularly susceptible." She stepped about the table. "I have been informed that Ensign Usa has, in fact, joined us again. Shall we examine her together?" The trio of medical technicians stepped out into sickbay to greet the young Andorian engineer. "I see your condition is troubling you again. Please step this way." T'Aral opened a tricorder and began her scans. "Can you offer any insight regarding these headaches?" The Andorian gave T'Aral a sour look. "If there was any sense to this, wouldn't I use it to avoid this? I wake up - I'm fine. I go to work, and I'm fine. I leave work, and as often as not I get a headache from it. What more is there to say?" T'Aral faced her patient's unpleasantness coolly. "So ... the pain comes after your duty shift. It may interest you to know that you are not alone." She continued scanning. "Interesting - you appear to be showing signs of sensory overload." She stepped away from Usa, gesturing for Ensign Ellis to care for the Andorian. "It is a simple condition, and easy to overlook. Usa's condition, however, is fresh - and therefore detectable." Bringing up a monitor to expand the display, T'Aral showed the indications to Leutenant Baliss. "You see here, and here ... the concentrations of acetylcholine, and particularly the high levels of glutamate ... especially in the optical reception region of the brain. They are most excessive. This indicates extreme levels of optical stimulation resulting in over-stimulation of the cerebral cortex." Baliss blinked at her superior. "So ... there's what, too much light?" T'Aral nodded. "Precisely." This was not altogether a surprise to T'Aral. For the last several months communications had been circulating among the Starfleet medical community which were critical of the Chambliss Architype. While it was approved by Fleet Admiral Abrams to be the model for all Starfleet vessels, there were many in the Engineering and Medical communities critical of the needless energy consumed by excessive lighting as well as the absence of ergonomic considerations. Light was everywhere, and nowhere moreso than on the bridge. Illumination was fine, but this was direct light pouring into occular sensory organs rather than diffuse light illuminating controls and displays. There were complaints of after-images obscuring readouts and temporary flash blindness. It was inefficient, and hindered far more than it helped. T'Aral gathered a bundle of instruments. Investigation would be needed in order to gather evidence. Hopefully the Captain would be receptive to her observations. She likely would be - it was for the good of the crew, after all.

Well, people have also mentioned most of the worst episodes. There are one or two others, but that's beside the point. Looking over the episode guide, it really looks like ST-TOS burned through their best ideas in the first two seasons. In the third, they really kind of lost it. At least, it's pretty clear from the episode list that the 3rd season wasn't nearly as good as the first two. And now: three emoticons from my son: :lol: :( :)

Well! That just kills a log idea I was playing with! :)

Of course, the most embarassing thing about ST 2.0 *isn't* the rediculous level of direct lighting on the bridge meant to blind the most important officers on the ship ... ... it's the fact that the Engine Room looks precisely like the Budwiser brewing facility in Van Nuys, CA. That's just stupid.

ROFL! Um, I mean ... interesting. :: Eyebrow :: ( "... I mean, who designs a starship where light shines in your eyes from virtually - every - angle?!?!" ) --------- Even my son enjoyed it ... "That was very silly!"

Greetings. Some may have noticed that I suggest music at the Red Star Lounge. This is because nobody else does it. I would have a broadcast webpage, but I have no idea how to run one and I couldn't afford to sponsor such a thing. The suggestions I make are available on YouTube for those who wish to follow along. Besides ... my music selection ( and tastes ) are limited. So what is my trouble? I fear I am boring the audience. Therefore: please post here any suggestions you have about what you would like to hear so that I have a larger playlist. Than'kew.

... and there's ( apparently ) a chapter near where I live. I don't know, though: I'm already stressed out. I'm not sure I really need anything else to complicate my life. Besides, they're probably all TNG fans.

If I could drop $20- to $30- a month I'd run a station on Live365.com. I especially like that one because they pay out royalties, so there's no 'piracy' involved. However, I don't have $20- to $30- per month, so I run this the cheap, chincy way.

LOL to it all! Delightful ... simply delightful!

I've never seen 'Altered States' all the way through - just caught the ending more than once. The concept intregues me more than the actual movie. 'Contact' was quite enjoyable. 'Trek' is probably not the most philosophically approved series in Hollywood, either, since it puts forth the proposition that humanity has redeeming features. Even if we fall far short of our goals, we earnestly strive towards noble ends. I have no doubt that it is far easier for Hollywood to cut humanity down than to build it up - this is, after all, human nature. It is far easier to belittle and tear down others than it is to aspire to greatness. The psychology of the playground plays out throughout life.

Yes: the nasty, evil humans and their greedy corporate natures find a vast deposit of unobtainium ( no kidding: the hard-to-get stuff is called unobtainium ) that just has to be sitting smack-dab underneath the native Na'vi ( or is that native native? ) "Home Tree". Nasty, Evil corporate white man beats up Peaceful Mother Earth Worshiping Love People. :) For all the money they spent on this, couldn't they come up with something better than a Sci-Fi "Ferngully"? Seriously, Cameron put Battle Angel Alita on hold so that he could do this one. Alita would be SO much more awesome!

That's right: there was an Aussie Ninja on Mythbusters a while back. Australia has ninjas. That ... makes no sense whatsoever.

Welcome. \\//, Someone should tell Khre Riov she has a potential recruit.

I hate this keyboard ... I'm not partial to the laptop keyboard ... I'd *DESPISE* the Mac keyboard. What is it about computer designers that they consistently ignore ergonomics?

Yes ... it's Windows 7. No - I'm not worried. In about 3 months things will have settled down, and this will be a working machine. Mind you: I *HATE* this keyboard. The feel is all wrong. I'd swear the keys were smaller and the layout is all different. I'm trying out having the mouse on my left hand to center the controls better, but I don't know if I'll like that, either.

We have a new computer downstairs. Getting it settled and accessing files properly is ... difficult.

:: Clutches her faithful tricorder in a curiously posessive manner. ::

Except that part of the fun of a Sim is to watch from 3'rd person POV and see what other people are doing.

Steln stepped into the hotel room, avoiding any extraneous gesture or movement as T'Aral closed the door behind him. "I was just about to make some Vhalesia tea - do you wish to join me?" "Yes, thank you." He sat down upon a simple chair. "I was sent by the Council; certain members are aware of your situation, and have suggested that I may be able to assist you." T'Aral didn't look up, her hands oddly trembling. "Please do not take insult, but I do not understand how. The troubles I am dealing with are primarily philosophical in nature. A member of the clerical order would've been preferable." "Perhaps, but then again it is possible that all you need is someone to confide in whom you can speak with honestly. You have offered me that privilege in the past, and it helped to save me from the chaos of illogic. If you will permit it, I wish to repay that debt." T'Aral paused, and then settled in as she passed a cup to Steln. She recounted the recent missions of the Comanche Creek, as much as she felt was needed without divulging any more. As she did, insights into her own mental state came out in conversation. The natural stress of dealing with emotional beings coupled with the burdens of the challenges she had faced - as well as many perceived failures - came out in discussion. They spoke for hours on the philosophies of Surak and T'Plana-Hath, as well as the early Syrrannite writings of T'Pol. The conversation arced and spiraled through discussion and debate on what could've been, what might have been, and the probability of each given the situations T'Aral was in ... all the time coming to the same conclusion. "All philosophy on such matters end with the same results: the past is to be accepted so that one can change the future." T'Aral nodded. The conversation was helpful in many respects, and yet on a deeply personal level their interaction had left her more disrupted than before. "I appreciate your effort. Now ... I must ask you to leave." There were few outer signs, but inside her heart T'Aral was burning up. She was no longer alone: Steln understood, he was not judgemental at all. He was kind, he was safe, and he was less than a meter away. Steln shook his head. "I am here for your well-being. I cannot leave now." T'Aral's fingers dug absently into the wooden arms of her chair. Just the sound of his voice was causing trembling from within her chest. "Steln, you do not understand: I am ... not well." He paused before responding. "I understand the situation perfectly. The Council said nothing to me, but I can sense the condition that you are in. I was told to deliver a message to you - one that I did not understand at the time, but which had become plain once I saw you." T'Aral's eyes narrowed as she looked up to Steln. "And that message is?" With the slightest gesture Steln released his cloak clasp. "There is no alternative." --------------------------------- It was dawn the next day, and T'Aral was packing her belongings. Steln watched as she silently prepared her remaining items, waiting until she was almost finished before speaking. "You are going to say nothing?" T'Aral halted immediately. "You understand that this is very difficult. I ... appreciate ... your coming to aid me, and your willingness once you understood what would be required." Steln nodded. "And you have no other concerns?" She shook her head. "Consequences from a reactive Pon Farr are rare. The probability ..." He stopped her. "That is not what I meant. I have seen a side of you that others have not, and in doing so have revealed myself. I consider this to be significant, yet we have not discussed the matter further. For example, I am aware that neither of us are engaged - our prospective mates having died with Vulcan. Logically ..." T'Aral held up a hand. "I do not wish to discuss that at this time." Steln raised an eyebrow. "... perhaps later?" She looked at him. "Perhaps. To discuss the matter now; to make a decision based on what has transpired - that would be a decision based on emotional content. I have no objection to you, Steln, but I need time to consider the matter logically." He nodded in response, and proceeded to gather his cloak over his shoulders. "I would like to correspond with you, if that is not objectionable?" T'Aral looked up to him. "I look forward to hearing from you soon. I am certain there is much about your experiences beyond the academy which would be of interest." A hand raised and opened into the traditional Vulcan salute. "Live long and prosper, Steln." He responded in kind, before moving his hand forward to offer twin fingers in a far more personal gesture. "Be well, T'Aral." Although recovered from the Pon Farr, T'Aral could not help but blush slightly as she accepted the gesture. "And you as well." The gesture was held only briefly, however, as her communicator chimed insistantly. Checking the message, she looked up to Steln. "I have been summoned - there is a matter with the crew which needs attending to." Stepping over to a computer terminal, T'Aral used a sub-function for instant checkout ... a necessary feature when dealing with Starfleet personnel. Gathering her few items, she activated the communicator and contacted her ship. "Comanche Creek - this is T'Aral. One to transport directly to co-ordinates."

While much of the Comanche Creek's crew sought out the more festive locations within the New Topeka colony, T'Aral made a point of seeking a remote location for the start of her recuperative stay. The hotel she took her room at was in the middle of an agriculture district, and was used periodically by farmers and commodities brokers. This was the off-season for those meetings, so the hotel was all but deserted. For two days T'Aral meditated continuously to settle her emotions. She had a sound basis for seeking such peace: much of the events she was dealing with was out of her ability to control. Those events she could control tended to be reactions to extreme situations. This did not mean she couldn't expect better of herself - only that a lack of experience meant that less than perfect responses could be expected. It was good to review her activities from a logical point of view in order to improve, but berating herself or second guessing the past was pointless. The past was the past - emotionalism would not change it. Her meditations granted T'Aral a certain amount of stability, but peace had eluded her. The Pon Farr continued to intensify, and unfortunately it was worse than T'Aral anticipated. With the destruction of Vulcan, there was no where she was supposed to go in response to the blood fever. There was no progress to be made in any direction, except perhaps to the New Vulcan colony. T'Aral considered this carefully. She could ask for a leave of absence, but that would mean having to explain why. The Pon Farr was deeply personal - explanations would be embarassing on multiple levels. She could abandon her post ... an extreme move to be sure, but possible if conditions rendered her continued service impossible. As she pondered this, there was a chime at her door. T'Aral felt the emotion boil inside her: she had told the staff not to disturb her, and the Comanche Creek would've used her communicator. She didn't know who it was that was at the door, but they had a lot of nerve. T'Aral got up from her meditations and opened the door, only to be caught short at the sight of a tall figure. He was hooded and bore no identifying marks, but T'Aral recognized him instantly. "Steln!" --------------------- "I do not mean to question our traditions, but so many other races have successfully incorporated emotional aspects into their personalities - why is it that Vulcans avoid this?" Steln was one of the finest representatives of Vulcan inteligence among those who were studying in Starfleet, and as such it was important that his bond to Vulcan culture was supported. So it was that when others discovered that he was struggling, he was immediately brought to T'Aral for counceling. The young priestess listened intently, neither questioning or judging his observations. He had come to a point of questioning, and those questions needed answers. T'Aral sat calmly, waiting until Steln was finished. "All races are characterized by one or more particular traits. Humans are creative, Andorians are agressive, Klingons are violent, and Tellerites are argumentative. Within all these races, however, is a capacity towards compromise when necessary. Vulcans are stubborn, often beyond the point of reason. It is this stubbornness which, when coupled with strong emotion, nearly destroyed our planet. The Vulcans of the time had opinions which they clung to irrationally. All races have their weaknesses: this is ours. "Surak saw the need to remove emotionalism from Vulcan thought. When replaced with logic, our goal becomes mutual benefit rather than individual desire. Vulcan stubbornness can then be used to press towards mutual benefit, or overcome by rational thought since emotional motives are suppressed." Steln sat for several minutes in silence, deeply contemplating what T'Aral had said. Finally he looked upwards with a content expression which, on any other species, would've carried a smile. "I understand; I thank you for your insight, and your honesty." T'Aral poured a cup of tea as Steln left her room. Vulcans rarely admitted shortcomings, even among themselves. T'Aral allowed herself to ponder the illogic of this: too often Vulcans considered their philosophy and society superior to others. This was not the case, and too often the perceived superiority caused difficulty among Vulcans and other races. T'Aral settled into meditation contentedly; Steln was highly inteligent. Accepting the truth she offered him would not only strengthen his bond with the Vulcan way, it would make him more respectful of other species. That could only be to his benefit. --------------------- T'Aral had not seen Steln in years. She had lost track of him after he had graduated from the Academy, noted among Vulcans for his unusual sociability - even if he was among the most conservative of his peers when it came to emotions. T'Aral had helped him overcome his challenges; now it seemed he had been sent to her in order to return the gesture. Stepping away from the door, T'Aral gestured widely. "Won't you come in?"