A new acquaintance

[T'aral 0]

New Topeka Medical Center

 

T’Aral sat passively in the office of Starfleet’s regional director. He was middle-aged, probably in his late 40’s with a receding hairline. Other than that he was what Humans would consider amiable – pleasant in manner and generally happy despite being buried in administrative work. It was unfortunate, but someone had to sacrifice their time to the bureaucracy for the greater good. If a Vulcan was not available it was better that a person such as Michael Vole.

 

“T’Aral – as a full doctor it is standard procedure to assign you an attendant nurse. I wish I could say that this will be a benefit to you, but given this record I have my doubts.”

 

She accepted a transcript and examined the record of Ensign T’Shia Khora. Initial indications were of a highly intelligent and dedicated nurse, yet she had been shifted between seven assignments in the last year. “Her marks are excellent and there are no reprimands listed; I fail to understand why she has been transferred so many times. Is there a problem with discipline?”

 

“The opposite, actually; her co-workers consistently reply that she’s cold and distant, just short of being hostile. I was about to recommend that she be transferred in-systems when I received a request from her to be transferred to the ‘Creek. Apparently she wants to work for you.”

 

“Indeed …” T’Aral examined the record again. “Curious: her transcript lists her as human, but her given name suggests a Vulcan.”

 

Vole smiled. “She’s human. As for her name, probably best if she explains that.”

 

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On board the Comanche Creek, T’Aral gestured for Ensign Khora to sit up while she completed her initial examination. Reaching to the wall, she secured the examination room door. “Medically you are fit, and your transcripts suggest a capable officer and a reliable medical technician. It is, therefore, necessary that an explanation be provided for why you have been unable to maintain a medical post.”

 

T’Shia looked down to the floor. “I was … abandoned as an infant. I was found screaming in a cargo container in DSR-17.”

 

T’Aral nodded, indicating comprehension. DSR-17 also bore the name Tal-svitan; a remote and isolated Vulcan science station where the most dedicated researchers pursue their interests in seclusion. “I am aware of the facility; by your manner, I expect that there is more to be explained?”

 

She nodded. “The Vulcans found me, malnourished and dehydrated. By the time I was nurtured back to health, it was feared that I had bonded to my caregivers. They decided that it would not be ‘emotionally beneficial’ for me to be transferred to an orphanage, so they chose to raise me themselves until I was older so that I would be able to accept such changes. However, a proper age didn’t present itself until I was old enough to enlist in Starfleet.”

 

T’Aral remained attentive, comprehending more than the Ensign was verbalizing. As much as it would pain a Vulcan to admit it, emotional attachment was a constant challenge to their logical ways. She was certain that the scientists on Tal-svitan had numerous logical explanations as to why it was best for T’Shia to stay with them, but the final truth was that they had quickly come to care for the helpless infant. Seeing her put in an institution was unacceptable; it was not enough to save her life, they would see to it that she flourished. “Your records suggest that you have benefitted from this decision. I still do not understand where your difficulties lie.”

 

She nodded. “My parents … all twelve of them … did their best to raise me as a human, but after a while I could tell that expressing my feelings bothered them. As I grew I learned to suppress my feelings; they all said that I shouldn’t, but I had to for their sakes. When I entered Starfleet I was constantly bothered by people who felt I didn’t smile enough, but it just felt … strange.”

 

T’Aral held up a hand, having heard enough. Ensign Khora was inexperienced in expressing emotion; logically she would internalize her feelings rather than making an embarrassing display, which was perceived as hostility by others. “I believe your difficulties will pass, Ensign, given time and an environment where there are no such demands put upon you. As you will be assisting me directly, I believe such an environment can be provided without difficulty.”

 

At that T’Shia did smile – a broad, beaming smile which she covered over immediately. “Thank you Ma’am.”

 

T’Aral nodded. “… and Ensign, do not be afraid to smile should you feel the need to do so. It is a normal human trait.”

 

-----

 

T’Aral stood in the storage chambers of the Dover Creek. Around her was a gathering of some of the most lethal contagions known, including Vericusian Chromatic Death and Hofarian Resplendent Immolation. The jewel of this collection, however, was RABI-D56 … humorlessly referred to among the medical staff of the ‘Creek as the ‘Zombie Bug’. Upon discovering this virus among the collection being transported, T’Aral insisted that the quarantine precautions be doubled.

 

The mission began to make sense as she learned more about it. The Dover Creek was an ideal vessel for transfer: a vessel consisting of a transport tug and hospital ‘pod’. The pot was isolated from the carrier vessel and had a completely independent life support system. Only two turbolift shafts connected the two vessels, and they were sealed off when not in use. However, the crew of the Comanche Creek were among the few living persons who had real-world experience with the effects of RABI-D56. Captain Calestorm, Commander Wesley, and the others would all bring that experience to the situation; there would be no mistakes. It was understood what was at stake.

 

With canisters secured she stepped out of the hold and sealed it, going through the test protocols three times before contacting the bridge. “Ensign Khora, this is T’Aral. Advise command that the specimens are secure and we are ready to proceed.”

 

On the main vessel’s bridge, T’Shia sat stiffly with only a tapping foot to give away how nervous she really was. Aside from the very real danger of the mission, she faced a more personal crisis. This was to be her last re-assignment; if she couldn’t work with T’Aral, there would be no place for her in Starfleet at all. “Acknowledged, Doctor – please be careful.”

 

Perhaps it was something in T’Aral’s manner or maybe it was just the fact that the voice over the com was a Vulcan, but there was just something reassuring in hearing the reply. “Your concern is noted, Ensign. Advise the Bridge that all safety measures have been triple-checked by multiple individuals to eliminate error.”

 

Ensign Khora nodded, advising the ship’s Captain that all was ready. She watched intently as the ship pulled away from Cold Station 12, wanting nothing more than for this mission to be over and for her to be back on board the ‘Creek.