Displaced ...

[T'aral 0]

As T'Aral left the staff briefing to prepare for their assignment, she was deeply troubled inside. The Captain had clearly taken offense at her inquiries regarding her condition. Offense was both unfortunate and unintentional: T'Aral felt she needed to keep appraised of any complications the Captain was going through in order to effectively treat her condition. She had not, however, figured on the complexities of human emotions and their response to otherwise logical questions.

 

This was most disturbing, for such complications tended to create resentment in humans. Her dealings with the Captain would now be problematic in ways the Vulcan was ill-suited to deal with. A human could be either apologetic or stubbornly advise the Captain regarding how such inquiries, however unpleasant, were necessary for her own sake. Without inquiry and updates she could only guess at how well or poorly the Captain was doing, and guessing was not a Vulcan trait.

 

Entering her quarters, T'Aral located a PADD and began making notes. There was Midshipman Macen's burn along with the Captain's knee to be considered. Fortunately the Midshipman's injuries would be dealth with on the shuttle, allowing her to bring additional materials. The medicines for the Captian would have to be transportable. The hardest part would be concealing her materials. A medical expert among pirates, especially a Vulcan one, was a large pill to swallow if it wasn't true. Equally troubling was the fact that T'Aral had little which could be mistaken for civilian clothing except for her vestments, which would not be appropriate for the situation either: a Vulcan Priestess was less believable as a pirate or outlaw than a nurse.

 

---

 

T'Aral was, for the most part, silent on the voyage - speaking only when spoken to, and only answering questions as briefly as possible. By the time she was done Mr. Macen's wound bore the apprearance of an old scar, which was completely suitable for what they were trying to accomplish. She would follow up with him later, researching ways to minimize the appearance. For the time being it was a good thing, since Starfleet personnel were usually too 'pretty' and stood out in such situations. A few reminants of injuries would divert suspicion.

 

As she moved about the crew, she was disturbed by the number of crewmembers who called her 'doctor'. It became clear to her that she needed to pursue a proper medical degree as soon as possible. The crew expected her to have such qualifications: although it was not her original intent, pursuit of a proper medical career was needed.

 

As they closed in on their destination, T'Aral found a quiet corner to open a small case. Inside was a collection of small crackers made into sandwiches. In between them was peanut butter: a human invention which was acceptably vegetarian, fairly nutritious, with a curiously addicting taste. It would be a while before she could have it again, so she made a point of bringing a final snack with her. She did her best to maintain proper composure, as humans were often watchful when it came to Vulcans and anything they could be perceived as 'enjoying'.

 

---

 

As they made planetfall and went their separate ways, T'Aral sought out a location from which to aid the crew. While it was the Captain's intent that all the crew would be searching for clues regarding the Vulcan colonists, she knew that her presence would be a detriment to the others. She was too obvious: the best thing she could do would be to find some manner of lodging and provide discreet support for others. First she would need money: she had brought along a few extra protoplasers and medscanners to pawn off, but was unsure how to proceed. As she made her way through an alleyway, though, greater problems presented themselves in the form of two Orion males and a Tellarite.

 

"What have we here? A rare prize these days." The expression on her assailants was most unpleasant, and made clear their intentions. T'Aral, however, was not as easy a catch as they anticipated. As the first came forward she jabbed three fingers into the depression between his shoulder and chest - inflicting searing pain which quickly spread. The second Orion was more fortunate as the Vulcan gently depressed the nerve juncures along the side of his neck, sending him deeply into unconciousness. The first one received a sharp follow-up kick which rendered him senseless as well, through a far more painful journey.

 

The Tellarite drew out a long knife. "You're going to pay for that, girlie." T'Aral, however, remained calm as she drew out what appeared to be a long leather sash. Within a second it revealed itself as an Ahn-woon: ceremonial, but in the right hands quite lethal. She had considered not bringing it, but she wanted to be able to defend herself without revealing her nature as a Starfleet officer and her Lurpe were far too large to be easily concealed.

 

The iron spheres spun about as T'Aral quickly accelerated them to a blinding speed. As the Tellarite approached carefully, she loosed a loop in the leather allowing the spheres to snap out - striking the assailant's hand and eliminating the knife before the sash came about again, catching her opponent along side of his eye socket and blinding one eye. As he screamed in pain and anger T'Aral came about and secured his nerve juncture as well, rendering the last of her attackers unconcious.

 

T'Aral gathered herself quickly, taking a moment to record the images and biosigns of her assailants before leaving. If they were members of the kidnapping crew, that information would be helpful. Pausing for a moment she then searched them, locating credit chips in several currencies and denominations. Hopefully they would be sufficient to aid her instead of drawing attention to herself by pawning off medical equipment. Moving back into more crowded streets, she looked about for other crewmembers.

 

She had a difficult challenge ahead of her: moving about with others would hinder them in terms of the mission, but moving about alone was clearly dangerous. Some manner of balance needed to be found, and T'Aral deeply wished she could acertain what that balance was.

[Crash Calestorm 0]

As T'Aral left the staff briefing to prepare for their assignment, she was deeply troubled inside. The Captain had clearly taken offense at her inquiries regarding her condition.

 

Well, you could always hire someone to snipe Cale with a tranquilizer gun. Not a traditional treatment method, no. :blink:

 

Nice undercover log from our CMO!