Star Trek Iliad: Stephens & T'Vara in Valhalla

[Silverbird]

Stardate 56947.7
Holodeck 3

The mead hall was filled with smoke, sound, and life. The smell of freshly burned meat, mead, and sweat mingled heavily in the air. Burly warriors rose their voices in laughter, and boasts, and occasionally song. They spoke, they drank — occasionally, briefly, they fought, to the sound of great cheers from their companions, but each time the violence would quickly subside, and merriment would resume. A great pit ran the center of the hall, filled with a low burning fire and coals. Burning braziers and torches along the walls provided most of the room’s illumination, scattered amongst decorative shields, weapons, and animal pelts.

T’Vara lingered in the entryway for a moment, taking it all in before she stepped properly inside. She had overhead two other crew members talking in the corridors on her way to her quarters after her first duty shift, and her curiosity had been aroused. After a brief sonic shower and a change of clothing, she’d come to the holodeck to see for herself.

“Ho, shieldmaiden!” One of a trio of warriors at a nearby table — a vast mountain of a man, with a long, blonde beard twisted into a complicated braid — called out to the lingering Vulcan, and gestured with a wide wave of his arm. “Come, join us! Sit! Drink! Be merry!”

“No, thank you,” the science officer replied levelly. Her voice was nearly lost in din of merriment. “Perhaps later.” Turning away from the hologram, she stepped properly inside, and began a slow circuit of the edge of the room.

It was all rather fascinating. The Starfleet personnel in the room were easy to separate from the simulated warriors, their uniforms, like her own, obviously out of place. Most were low-ranking engineers, in yellow rather than the bright blue of her new uniform, but there were a few, like her, who’d obviously heard of the gathering later. The Vulcan’s eyes lingered for a moment on the clothing of a holographic serving-girl as she passed by. She’d have to return to this program another time in more suitable attire.

T’Vara’s circuit came to halt by one of the shields hanging from the wall. She studied it for a moment with hands clasped behind her back, her back turned to the room at large. The decorations were quite intricate for something presumably intended to be used primarily in battle. She wondered how much of the program reflected the reality of Earth’s history, and how much of it was simply the product of folklore or a holoprogrammer’s imagination.

@captain_bond

 

[captain_bond]

After that tense launch and the even more intense eight hours of overseeing and helping with numerous repairs around the ship, Lieutenant Commander Stephens decided to take a break in Holodeck 3, where the Viking mead hall program was running (and draining power, but he wasn't about to complain...it definitely helped with crew morale, especially with the ship still being brought up to full capacity mid-flight) and some of the crew were mingling with the holographic warriors. One of the ways he liked to participate in holo-programs that involved eating and drinking was to duck out for a bit and replicate something, but before he could do so this time, he spotted the Chief Science Officer, Lieutenant T'Vara. It seemed she was studying a shield on the wall, and from the looks of it, she might have been confused as to whether or not it was for decoration. He walked up next to her, and said, "Good evening, Lieutenant. You look confused, as much as a Vulcan does anyway. Shields during this time period were both decorative and functional. Each and every piece on these walls could be taken down and used with lethal efficiency if the village was attacked. In a way, the mead hall sort of doubled as their armory. And women fought alongside men, the female warriors were sometimes called 'shieldmaidens', but as an honorific, not an insult. Took humanity nearly twelve hundred years to allow women such equality again."

 

[Silverbird]

“You are mistaken, Lieutenant Commander.”

T’Vara responded to the Second Officer’s approach, at first, without a glance in his direction, or even really a noticeable change in her posture. After having just spent many hours on the bridge together, she easily recognised his voice. Her eyes stayed fixed on the shield, carefully examining the details.

“I am not confused,” she elaborated. “I am simply admiring the craftsmanship of this item, and reflecting on its history — or, at least, on our interpretation of it. Take these scratches.”

With a small shift of her foot and a twist of a body, the science officer created an opening for her superior to step into, inviting him to stand closer and join her in looking closely at the shield. She finally did look to Stephens, her expression as inscrutable as ever, even as she raised a dainty hand to point out a series of nicks and scratches along the rim of the shield, small places where the paint or wood was missing. It looked like the shield had been cut at and bits chipped away, perhaps by a small sword or axe or some other blade.

“The damage appears to corroborate your story,” the Vulcan continued. As she spoke, she looked to the shield once more. “This shield is a tool of war. It was taken into battle; used to fend off an enemy’s blows. Perhaps it once saved a warrior’s life, or perhaps it was taken from one who fell despite its protection. However…”

She paused for a moment, glancing to the man at her side. She was coming to the thought that she was trying to share; she was interested in seeing what he made of it.

“This shield is not real. It may have been based on one that was, but this particular instance is a hologram, designed by an artist or holoprogrammer working at a computer terminal. The damage was not earned in battle; it was placed intentionally by the creator. Perhaps that creator had the same story in mind as we did, and they are using these scratches to convey that story to us — but, on the other hand, perhaps they simply believed that these scratches would make the item appear more authentic, or that they would contribute to the atmosphere they are trying to generate with this program in some way. There are many possible explanations. Without further evidence, we cannot say which is true.”

Her explanation of her thoughts concluded, T’Vara glanced back over her shoulder to the rest of the hall behind them. The question applied, of course, to the entire simulation. It was the great contradiction of the holodeck; a chance to experience life in another time, to see how another may have lived, but always filtered through the selective, subjective choices of whomever had programmed it. It was impossible to tell what was authentic, and what merely inventive. She found the whole thing extraordinarily fascinating.

Noticing an empty table not far from where they stood, T’Vara gestured towards it with a slight nod of her head. “Will you sit with me, Commander? I am interested in hearing more about this period in Earth’s history.”

Assuming his agreement, she moved past him and slid lightly onto a wooden bench by the table. “I noticed that this program was called the ‘Valhalla Mead Hall’. I recognise these warriors as — ‘Vikings’, I believe the term is?” She paused for a moment, looking to him for confirmation before going on. “However, I do not recognise the word ‘Vahalla’. Was that a place on Earth? A particular period of your history?”

 

[captain_bond]

Stephens did indeed step up next to her when the nonverbal invitation was given, and he listened intently to her very Vulcan analysis of the situation, demonstrating their lack of imagination. But it wasn't her fault, it was just the way she was. "Perhaps the combination of some evidence, some conjecture is what makes it exciting, at least for humans and other species who don't embrace logic like Vulcans do. Obviously, some things are known for sure, others are merely guessed at. So the authors and programmers extrapolate and fill in the gaps with what's most likely to be accurate. But it also depends on the time period. A simulation of Captain Archer's first voyage aboard the Enterprise NX-01 probably has every little fact down to the smallest detail, because of how recent it was by comparison and how much of the same basic technology for record-keeping already existed. So it's...drier, because there's not much room for interpretation, for imagination. But this? No one knows everything about the Vikings, so the more we don't know, the more we have to use our imaginations--plus a healthy bit of logical conjecture--to fill in."

He sat down next to her, and nodded when she referred to the warriors as Vikings. But when she mentioned 'Valhalla', he shook his head. "No. Valhalla is a place in Viking mythology, where the souls of honored warriors would go when they died. There, their ancestors and fallen brothers and sisters could celebrate, join others in battle, and make merry for eternity--that is, until Ragnarok, the Viking end of the world. Then, Heimdall would sound his great battle horn, calling the righteous to arms, and all the souls in Valhalla would join their descendants on Earth for one final, decisive battle against the forces of evil. The myth is, in my opinion, a good example of the Viking way of life and philosophy. Live for today, be ready to fight as hard as you can, and make sure to make the most of it, because tomorrow is not guaranteed."

 

[Silverbird]

“You assume I do not find it exciting,” T’Vara noted, with a slight tilt of her head and a raised eyebrow. The Lieutenant Commander hadn’t precisely said that, but it seemed like a logical interpretation of his words. There was something to his tone and his expression that she recognised — a way that humans got when they thought they were explaining something outside the Vulcan experience, or that Vulcan logic could not grasp. She’d encountered it many times at the Academy.

Still, she was quite enjoying their conversation. The topic of historical interpretation was one that quite interested the science officer, and she rarely had the opportunity to discuss it at length. As Stephens joined her on the bench, T’Vara shifted slightly to make more room and turned attentively to face him. She was a little surprised that he’d sat next to her instead of across from her, but she didn’t show it, and she quickly came to the conclusion that it was actually a logical move; given the noise of the hall, their close proximity made conversation much easier.

The Vulcan listened intently throughout his explanation of the legend of Valhalla, showing the second officer’s words the same attention he’d shown hers. As he spoke, she folded her hands neatly on the table in front of them. “Fascinating,” she said, as his story came to an end. With her glance over her shoulder, she looked at the room with new eyes. The blonde warrior who’d greeted her was now engaged in some kind of game involving a knife with one of the engineering personnel, who looked a little too concerned given the holodeck’s safety protocols. “Not just an interpretation of history, then, but also of mythology. It reminds me of the Klingon legend of Sto-vo-kor in many ways.”

She looked back to Stephens, a light in her eye. “Interesting, isn’t it, how such similar stories can arise in cultures separated by such vast distances? Though, returning to our previous topic — I must disagree regarding the simulation of Captain Archer’s first voyage. While the historical facts of that voyage are widely known and recorded, any such simulation would still by necessity be filtered through the subjective experiences of the individuals creating the simulation. For example, the Vulcan and Human versions of that simulation would likely be quite different.” She shook her head slightly, black curls bobbing with the motion. “The ship’s dimensions, the personnel aboard, the actions they undertook — that is all well established, but the details — what the crew were really like, what they felt, how they would react to slightly different circumstances… the smell of the mess hall or main engineering on the day of the launch… these are all factors which will reflect the simulation’s creator as much as the reality of what happened. After all, Lieutenant Commander — I suspect that in many ways, Captain Archer is as much a figure of legend to you as these vikings are.”

T’Vara indicated the warriors behind them with a twist of her head, before turning an almost appraising gaze back to her companion. “And on that note, Commander, there are a number of questions I wish to ask you, but some of them might be considered too personal for our current relationship. Given that fact, I would like to propose a game. You will ask me a question — any question of your choosing — and, after I have answered truthfully, I will ask one in turn. I believe this will be a suitable way to simultaneously 'break the ice' and satisfy my curiosity. Does that sound agreeable to you?”

 

[captain_bond]

"Ha! These Vikings might actually find some common ground with Klingons, you are right about that. Perhaps we should create our own holo-program, as an experiment. As for the Enterprise NX-01, you are also right. A program based on Ensign Sato's account would vary greatly from one based on Commander T'Pol's, or Lieutenant Reed's. And of course, one that's based on all the available data would be different still, and if a different holo-programmer made another program later..." He trailed off, his meaning about the complexities of historical accuracy clear to see. While he would have apologized for his rather ethnocentric assumption, he didn't sense any hostility from T'Vara, so he hoped she didn't take offense to it.

When she mentioned the question and answer session, his eyebrows raised slightly, somewhat reminiscient of a previous well-known Vulcan Starfleet science officer. "All right, yeah, that sounds good. Are you certain you'd like me to go first...or would you like to let chance decide?" Stephens picked up a silver coin from the table near them, a common currency during the Dark Ages. "Computer, reshape the coin in my hand to be free of mechaical bias." After a moment, the computer gave a chirp and said, "Parameters changed." The coin looked slightly different, but the way it felt in his hand was more noticeable. "Heads, I go first. Tails, you go first. How does that sound? That way, it's as fair as possible, under the circumstances."

 

[Silverbird]

The science officer inclined her head slightly as the Lieutenant Commander trailed off. The gesture resembled a nod, indicating her understanding and agreement with his words.

"I am content for you to ask the first question, Commander," she replied, as he reached for a coin. "However, if random chance better appeals to your sense of fairness, then I will consent to those terms. You may throw the coin."

The coin flip was a human custom T'Vara had grown familiar with during her time on Earth. It seemed, to her, to mostly be a method used by human students who wished to abdicate the responsibility of making a decision — but in situations where there were two equally acceptable options, she supposed it was as logical a method of deciding as any. In any case, if her superior officer had a preference for that method, then she saw no reason to object.

She also refrained from pointing out that there'd been no logical need to rebalance the coin; they had assigned the outcomes arbitrarily, not knowing which side the coin's weight favoured, and so for their purposes it did not matter if the odds were uneven. This, too, was likely an action that appealed to the human sense of fairness.

Leaning back slightly, the Vulcan waited patiently to see which of them would be asking first, and considered her first question...

 

[captain_bond]

Stephens flipped the coin, and he called 'Heads'. Catching it deftly, he slapped it on the back of his opposite palm, then removed the hand to reveal the tails side showing. "Looks like you're going first, T'Vara." He considered giving a brief discourse on why silver coins were more common than gold during the time period represented, but for one, he didn't think it appropriate, and two, he realized that he'd forgotten what he'd learned! At any rate, he placed the coin back where it came from just in time for a couple of holo-Vikings to start a brawl in the middle of the room.

 

[Silverbird]

T'Vara's eyes followed the coin as it flipped through the air, then settled back onto Stephen's face as he announced the result. Her expression, as usual, didn't betray any feelings one way or the other about the outcome. She merely inclined her head slightly again in acknowledgement, and said, "Very well."

For her part, she wondered if the Lieutenant Commander had desired a particular result. If he did, she decided, it must have been for this outcome; otherwise, he would have simply asked the first question when she had offered. Perhaps that was an alternate motivation for his offer to leave it to chance in the first place. She was curious whether that was the case, but she decided not to ask him that. She had another question in mind.

The Vulcan opened her mouth to speak, but before she could ask a question, paused for a moment to glance back over her shoulder at the sounds of an outbreak of violence. She took a moment to consider the brawling holo-Vikings before determining that they were in no immediate danger of being caught in the storm, and glancing back to her superior officer.

"Lieutenant Commander Stephens," she said. Her tone sounded almost like an interrogation. "Is this your first time serving as a member of the senior staff aboard a starship?"

It was a straightforward, factual question — perhaps not what Stephens might have expected from her proposal. It was only where she intended to start. Unlike the second officer, T'Vara hadn't had the opportunity to study the service records of her fellow officers before departing. His answer would provide the context she needed to properly interpret the answers to further questions she had planned.

 

[captain_bond]

Stephens was slightly surprised by the relative mundane nature of the question, but he wrote it off to his expectations coming from how he was used to humans and how they acted. But he didn't try to hide that surprise, at least not until he schooled his expression. "Yes, Lieutenant, it is the first time. However, Chief O'Brien imparted a lot of his wisdom during his engineering courses. Even though he was Ops Officer on DS9, he did serve the same role aboard the Defiant, plus Chief Engineer. So it wasn't all that dissimilar, and it prepared me in a rare way for my current role."

He thought about his question. So many possibilities. But he was trying to get to know her, not her service record. So he decided to skip questions that it could answer. "Vulcans say they do not have heroes, and by and large, they don't, at least not in the way that humans would use the term. But your people do draw inspiration from those who came before you, who achieved great things. You carry their wisdom into the next generation. So my question to you is, is there a Vulcan from the past, or anyone else, that you draw inspiration from, one whose wisdom you draw upon to guide you? A good example might be Ambassador Spock, as he began his path to greatness as Chief Science Officer aboard the USS Enterprise. The same post you now hold."

 

[Silverbird]

Stephen’s answer was logical, given his age and the relative inexperience T’Vara had observed amongst the crew so far, herself included. She would have been surprised had he said otherwise. Still, it was good to have that fact confirmed; while she perhaps could have deduced that, there was always the possibility that his was an unusual case, and a faulty assumption on that front could contaminate any other conclusions she tried to draw. She nodded slightly in acknowledgement of his words, but otherwise showed no particular reaction to his answer.

His question, on the other hand, was not something the science officer had anticipated. As Stephens had pointed out, it was not a topic that often arose amongst Vulcans. She took a moment to consider her answer, drawing back slightly and fixing her superior officer with an analytical look.

“Heroes seem to be very important to you,” she noted. She’d noticed the Lieutenant Commander’s evident respect for his academy mentors throughout the day, and even the way he described Spock’s career seemed reverential. The science officer gave a slight shake of her head. “I do not believe Ambassador Spock qualifies for me, no. I respect and admire his accomplishments and his career — I would be proud to have even half as distinguished a service as he has had — but I would not say that I particularly look to him as an example in my own life.”

T’Vara paused, pursing her lips as she considered the question further. “I suppose the trite answer is Surak,” she continued, after a moment. “He was a Vulcan philosopher; the father of Vulcan logic, and the source of many of the teachings which underpin our society. Most Vulcans look to his wisdom for guidance on a daily basis. However, I suspect that is not the answer you are looking for.

“The more truthful answer is a woman named Tarya Owi, a Bajoran freighter captain who used to make delivery runs to my homeworld, Aesa IX. As a child, I would always make time to visit the starport when I knew she was scheduled to arrive. She was a storyteller — always ready with a new tale of the things she had seen, or the people she had helped. Many of the other Vulcan children considered her retellings to be unnecessarily exaggerated, or even outright fabricated, and I am sure that some were…”

The Vulcan trailed off, glancing away from Stephens to the brawling warriors nearby. She wondered what Tarya would have made of Stephen’s story about the Viking’s Ragnarok. It had been years since T’Vara had thought about the freighter captain; her last visit had been a few years before Bajor had regained its independence.

“I believe that her influence was a significant factor in my decision to leave home and join Starfleet.”

T’Vara looked back to the Second Officer. Considering that to have been a sufficient answer to his question, she moved on to her next question — and her analytical gaze sharpened once more.

“When you first received your assignment to the Odyssey, Commander — knowing that it would be the first ship aboard which you would serve as a member of the command staff — how did you feel?”

It was not a particularly Vulcan question.

 

[captain_bond]

"I'm sure that Commander Zasha would be pleased to hear that," Stephens said, in response to T'Vara's answer to his question. But hers came as a surprise; it really wasn't a particularly Vulcan question. But he took it in stride, giving it a moment to think of an answer before speaking. "I felt excited, like my entire career had been building to this point. I was actually fortunate enough to be aboard before most of the other senior staff, overseeing some of the latter stages of construction." He thought about his next question, then settled on something somewhat work-related. "Do you believe that it's possible that the Genesis device was stolen in order to create life, instead of destroy it? If so, how likely do you think that is?"

 

[Silverbird]

“Perhaps,” T’Vara said, tilting her head slightly again as Stephens mentioned Commander Zasha. Privately, the Vulcan saw little reason for their First Officer to care one way or the other about her admiration for another Bajoran. It was unlikely the two had ever met. On the other hand, she could understand how there could be a sense of pride that came with having the value of one of your people recognised by another, even if it was ultimately irrational. How would Stephens have reacted if she had named a human as her role-model, such as Captain Kirk?

Perhaps she would ask him later.

The Second Officer’s answer to her second question drew a simple nod from the Vulcan in response, but little more. ‘Excited’. It wasn’t quite what she had been looking for. The truth was that the Science Officer wasn’t entirely motivated by a desire to understand the Commander better; rather, she was hoping that hearing about his feelings might help her to better understand her own. As repressed and subdued as it was, the Vulcan still had felt some kind of emotional reaction upon seeing the Odyssey — but excited didn’t quite seem to capture it.

Well, it didn’t really matter. She’d simply have to think on it more later. T’Vara kept her disappointment from her face as she listened to the Commander’s next question, then shook her head slightly.

“It is possible, but it seems unlikely,” she replied. “It is dangerous to draw conclusions based on limited data, but what we do know so far suggests that we are dealing with thieves and former terrorists. Such people are more likely to be motivated by greed or a violent ideology than they are a desire or need to create life. That said — the Maquis certainly were idealists, whatever else might be said about them… so it isn’t entirely out of the question, given what we know so far.”

The Vulcan leaned back a little, considering, as her eyes wandered idly across the rest of the hall. “If they did intend to use the device, for either purpose, they would likely need an expert to try and do so,” she mused. “It is unlikely the prototype is still in working condition after all this time. Of course, the fact that they knew about such a highly classified technology in the first place does suggest they had inside help — which is why I am interested in the facility’s staff records.”

As the Science Officer spoke, her eyes had fallen onto one of the holographic serving women making rounds of the hall. T’Vara had had her own vaguely work-related question in mind for Stephens next, but she decided to hold it for the moment in favour of something simpler. “Are you familiar with that drink, Commander?” she asked, indicating the woman with a nod of her head.

 

[captain_bond]

"You are correct about the danger of drawing conclusions," Stephens said, nodding in response to T'Vara's answer. "However, I like to hope for the best, even while planning for the worst. So, the available evidence may point to a less-than-honorable use for the device, but there could be new data to uncover that sheds a more favorable light on their intentions. Take the following hypothetical for example. The Maquis were utterly devastated by the Cardassian-Dominion alliance. Their chief goal has been to have the freedom to live in peace, without being subject to the whims of politicians that to them, could care less. So perhaps the remnants of the Maquis and the colonists found a planet, that's not in Cardassian or Federation space, or anyone else's. The problem is, it's completely barren, and they may lack the resources or the time to terraform it normally. Enter the Genesis device. That's what I hope to uncover at the end of this: an honorable end to less-than-honorable means. And, that drink is called mead. That said, I don't see many of our people partaking, if any at all. Perhaps the holodeck subsystems that allow holographic food and drink to taste realistic may be malfunctioning." Indeed, from where he sat, it seemed that every crewmember he could see was politely declining the mead atop the serving women's trays.

 

[Silverbird]

"Perhaps," T'Vara agreed, following Stephens' gaze to the latest group to turn down the woman's offer. It certainly seemed like a logical conclusion, given the general condition of the ship. On the other hand, the holodeck otherwise appeared to be functioning correctly, and the replicator in her quarters had been operational; so all the requisite components seemed to be online, as she understood them. Perhaps there was another reason — a general reluctance to engage with an unfamiliar historical substance? That seemed unlikely, given the general personality type that tended to apply to Starfleet. These people were explorers.

Now the matter had T'Vara's curiosity. "There is a straightforward way to find out," she noted, before raising her hand to signal the nearest serving woman. As the holographic woman began making her way to the Science Officer, a Bolian engineer on the far side of the hall nudged his human companion and gestured in their direction.

"Should we warn them, do you think?" he asked, sounding concerned. His companion considered for a moment, then shook their head.

"Nah, she's a Vulcan. She can handle it. Besides — it could be entertaining."

Unaware of all that, T'Vara nodded politely to the serving woman as she set down two deep wooden mugs, then turned her attention back to the Lieutenant Commander. "Regarding your hypothetical — it does seem possible," she conceded. "If you would welcome advice from a subordinate, however? I would temper that hope. Events around the Maquis have, historically, tended towards tragic ends. Even if their ultimate goal is noble, beginning as they have will invite misunderstandings and violence."

She paused for a moment to take an experimental sip from her mug, and then a longer, deeper one. Despite Stephens' concern, the mead had quite a nice taste to it — a mix of sweetness and spices which T'Vara found quite pleasing, and a strong warmth as it went down. It reminded her a little of a drink she'd been introduced to at the Academy, but more rustic, somehow.

Not bad, she decided. Not something she'd drink outside of this simulation's context, but not bad.

 

[captain_bond]

When T'Vara offered her advice, Stephens nodded understandingly. "The hope has been indeed tempered, but I thank you for your wisdom, T'Vara. You're right, of course. About the Maquis. Even though some of those tragedies have been engineered by outside forces, the Dominion being responsible for the most extreme and heinous of them. They deserve peace, for certain."

The Lieutenant Commander watched as T'Vara rather courageously took a deep drink of the mead. Seeing as it didn't seem to set her taste buds on fire or anything of the sort, he decided to take a sip of the other one. "Mmm!", he said as he set the mug down. "I stand corrected. The holodeck is working perfectly." Idly running his finger around the rim, he glanced over at the Science Officer. "What shall we drink to, T'Vara? The success of our mission? To Starfleet?"

 

[Silverbird]

In response to Stephen’s words about the Maquis, T’Vara could only offer a silent, sympathetic nod of agreement. There seemed to be little more worth saying. She hoped that the Maquis would ultimately turn out not to be involved, and that their mission would not add further tragedy and suffering to the lives of the surviving members of that group — but, logically, they had to be prepared for that eventuality.

The mood lightened as the Lieutenant Commander joined T’Vara in sampling the simulated mead. “Credit to Chief P’rmess and her team, no doubt,” the Vulcan nodded. As Stephens proposed a toast, the science officer tilted her head for a moment, considering. Drinking ‘to’ something wasn’t a custom Vulcans shared, but she’d encountered the idea amongst her human friends before, and found it charming.

“To exploration, and new experiences,” she proposed after a moment’s thought, raising her mug to her companion’s for a moment before taking another long drink. There was a strong current of alcohol running beneath the sweetness and spices of the drink, but this didn’t really concern T’Vara. The Vulcan cultural relationship to alcohol was quite different to that of humans — they didn’t indulge nearly as often, even accounting for synthehol and other less-debilitating substitutes — but T’Vara was confident that any drink designed for humans would be something her Vulcan constitution could handle. Still, as she set the mug down again there was a slight flush to her cheeks, a tinge of green rather than the human red.

“Speaking of the Chief,” she said, regarding Stephens quizzically once more, “What is your impression of her?”

By T’Vara’s count, it was her turn to ask a question — she had asked about the mead, and Stephens had asked what they should drink to. She was curious to see what the man made of their feline co-worker.

 

[captain_bond]

Alex considered T'Vara's question a moment. Was she asking him as a Starfleet Officer, a curious shipmate, or for some other, less professional reason? He'd gotten the impression that the erstwhile Caitian was generous with her...feminine charms, mainly due to rumors that circulated during construction of the Odyssey. He'd be lying if he wasn't interested in sampling those 'charms', but would the Vulcan in front of him want to hear about this? He decided she didn't.

"She's an outstanding engineer," he said truthfully. "I plan to pass along my formal recommendation to the Captain that her position as Chief Engineer be made permanent, as soon as it's logistically feasible. I've worked alongside her for several weeks prior to the Odyssey's launch, and I feel confident about my recommendation." Now that he thought about it, why didn't he try to make a move on her after what, six weeks? More? Maybe he should remedy that soon...or was that the mead talking? Even if it was, he saw no reason not to listen.

"Apart from that, however, she's a rather kind person, if a little reluctant to take credit where it's due her. She's only recently been formally part of Starfleet, so she's still getting used to the way we do things. The crew seems to like her fresh take on certain things, perspectives that wouldn't usually come from seasoned Starfleet veterans, or even those who have worn the uniform for a short while. And of course, I am referring to all sorts of things, not just those related to engineering. In short, her lack of the typical filter that most Starfleet personnel use when interacting with each other is refreshing."

 

[Silverbird]

T’Vara took another long sip from her mead as Stephens answered her question, nodding occasionally to show her understanding. His view of P’rmess was interesting, and not quite what the Vulcan had expected. It didn’t quite align with her own impressions of their chief engineer, but that was unsurprising — they’d only known each other for a short, and relatively stressful, time. There were doubtless many sides to the woman T’Vara hadn’t seen yet; hence the question. She’d have to find a proper chance to get to know her, she decided.

“I did not realize she was new to Starfleet,” T’Vara noted. That seemed quite unusual, for someone in P’rmess’ position — but then, there was hardly anything about their crew that was usual. Perhaps that would be a strength; Infinite Diversity, and so on. In any event, it gave T’Vara a little more confidence in her own inexperience. P’rmess was doing a fine job in a difficult situation. There was no reason she couldn’t, too.

The Lt. Commander’s last point, however, caught T’Vara’s attention. She wasn’t surprised to hear Stephens preferred a certain degree of directness; that seemed to fit with the impression T’Vara had of his personality so far. However, by Vulcan standards, most of the other Federation races seemed decidedly unfiltered. They were prone to sharing stray, half-finished thoughts, raising matters entirely unrelated to whatever needed their attention at any given moment, and sharing far too much that seemed like it should be private.

(And, on the other hand, they would sometimes dance frustratingly around conversations that they would logically be served by addressing directly — but she doubted that was quite what Stephens had in mind.)

“I’m not certain I understand,” the Vulcan admitted, with a slight shake of her head. “Starfleet personnel have never seemed particularly filtered to me. I find it difficult to see how P’rmess interacts differently than the rest of the crew.”

She was careful not to word her query as a question, though she clearly had one. It was, after all, the Lt. Commander’s turn to ask.

 

[captain_bond]

"I merely meant that by comparison, she's less filtered. I suppose by Vulcan standards, we all overshare. So I believe that should at least partly answer the question you didn't ask directly." Stephens tapped his nose conspiratorially. "Don't worry, I won't cry foul." Taking another sip of the mead, there was something he wanted to ask, something he always wondered about but never got the chance to ask. He wasn't sure if the alcohol gave him the confidence to ask but he figured it didn't matter. "So, would you ever consider being in any kind of relationship beyond simple friendship with a non-Vulcan?" Alex of course was including sexual liaisons in that question, even though that was not the only thing he was asking about. He was curious about her reaction, as well, to such a question.

 

[Silverbird]

Stephen’s elaboration didn’t really clear things up any further for T’Vara, but as he’d caught on to her skirting of the rules, she decided to let it go. The Vulcan acknowledged his callout with a simple tilt of head, her expression not admitting any guilt. She’d simply have to speak with P’rmess more herself to understand his point of view.

As the Lt. Commander moved onto a more personal question, T’Vara raised a slight eyebrow, but otherwise didn’t seem discomforted by his line of inquiry. Actually, she was more curious about his motivation for asking. Was he asking for his own sake? Flirting? She was familiar with the concept, but not particularly good at recognizing it most of the time. Or maybe he was simply curious?

In any event, she assumed that he was mostly talking about romantic and sexual relationships. Humans usually were.

“I have been a part of such relationships in the past,” she replied. Anticipating that that probably wasn’t something he’d be expecting, she gave him a moment to process that, letting the words hang in the air as she took another sip of mead before elaborating. “I had heard that many students use their time at the Academy to explore that aspect of themselves. It seemed wasteful not to make use of that opportunity myself.”

She left the details to his imagination, watching his face carefully for a moment to gauge his reaction before continuing. “To answer your question — yes, I would consider being in such a relationship again in future. I have actually been considering one recently, but came to the conclusion that pursuing it would be unwise. Illogical.”

The Vulcan’s voice lowered towards the end of that thought, and she paused, furrowing her brow. She wasn’t sure why she’d found it necessary to share that. Her gaze went for a moment to her mug, already half-empty. Could the drink be affecting her already? No, that seemed unlikely; it was more probable that she had subconsciously taken note of the Lt. Commander’s avowed preference for unfiltered thought. She had, after all, promised him truthful answers.

Partly in an attempt to cover up that momentary doubt, T’Vara gave a slight wave of her hand, and looked back to Stephens. “If you are thinking of extrapolating that answer to other Vulcan women, however, I must warn you that others do not necessarily think as I do. Some of my people have an unfortunately dim view of others.”

 

[captain_bond]

When T'Vara told Stephens about her past relationships, even go so far as to all but admit she experimented while at the Academy just like other students, his face did not hide the surprise, and then the fact that he was very intrigued by what might have happened. His mind was full of images of the Vulcan, in various positions, her lovely body naked as the day she was born, and what was most intriguing was the possibility it might not even be her Pon--

His thoughts ground to a halt when she more or less told him she had wanted someone recently, but didn't pursue it. Even though Vulcans were good at controlling their emotions, that didn't mean they didn't exist. Alex reached his hand across the table and laid it atop hers in a sympathetic gesture. "I'm sorry about that. Yes, you may tell me that my sympathy is illogical or something, but I know that just because Vulcans have mastery over their emotions, doesn't mean they should be treated like they don't have them. Because you do." When she spoke of extrapolating his answer to other Vulcans, he gave a wry half-smile. "Nah, T'Vara. I knew from the moment you started drinking that mead that you weren't like most Vulcans, that you were special. IDIC is an amazing ideal, one might say it's the purest form of the Federation's founding principles, but sadly some of its members, including Vulcans, don't get the message." He sighed, and as his hand remained on hers, he asked, "So, I believe it's your turn to ask a question?"

 

[Silverbird]

The Commander’s reaction didn’t disappoint. It was a little petty and illogical, but it had always T’Vara when other people assumed that they knew all about her simply because she was Vulcan. She took a certain perverse pleasure from their reactions whenever she was able to catch them off-guard. The second half of Stephen’s expression was equally pleasing, but for different reasons. While she could only guess at what exactly he was picturing, her words had clearly enflamed the man’s imagination. There was something empowering about that. The Vulcan’s expression didn’t change, but internally, she did smirk.

A moment later, however, their conversation had moved on and it was Stephen’s turn to catch T’Vara by surprise. The science officer looked down abruptly as his hand unexpectedly closed over hers, and regarded the contact between them almost curiously as he spoke. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of the gesture, at first — among Vulcans it would have been considerably more intimate than she expected the Commander intended — until his mention of “sympathy” made the meaning clear. He was right to expect a Vulcan rejection of his sentiment, but T’Vara suppressed her initial instinct to do so and let him finish without interrupting or withdrawing her hand. When he was done, she looked back to him with a slightly altered expression — still thoughtful, but perhaps a little softer, a little more impressed and a little more curious about the man himself.

“You might understand us a little better than we sometimes understand ourselves,” T’Vara noted softly. It was an old argument she’d had with her family many times, and one she was surprised to hear expressed by the Commander quite like that. Of course, after a moment's consideration, it was perhaps not that surprising — humans had a tendency to anthropomorphize everything, and to see their own emotions everywhere. The science officer shook her head slightly, eyes closing for a moment as she did so.

“I won’t tell you that your sympathy is illogical, but expressing it that way may have been.” The Vulcan’s eyes fluttered open, and her eyebrow raised again as she lightly reproached her superior. “Many Vulcans would take offense at being told we have emotions. We are also quite immune to flattery.”

Despite her words, the flush on the Vulcan’s cheeks seemed a shade darker. It may have just been a trick of the light. Her hand was soft beneath his, and radiated a gentle warmth.

At Stephen’s prompting, it didn’t take T’Vara long to think of her next question. “Is there anyone you are interested in pursuing a relationship with at present, Commander?” she asked. Perhaps it was the accidental intimacy of his touch that had inspired the question, or a desire to turn his probing back on him — or perhaps it was her newfound curiosity about the man.

 

[captain_bond]

"Ah, well, a common misconception is that Vulcans do not have emotions. My intention was not to pointlessly blurt out 'Vulcans have emotions', but rather to indicate that I do not buy into that misconception." Stephens was, of course, mulling over how best to answer T'Vara's question. After their away mission to Rigel, he'd certainly engaged in a fair bit of banter, some of which had a definite undercurrent of sexual tension, with both P'rmess and Ensign Leata. But the Caitian wasn't really his type, and Leata didn't really have the emotions that her forefather, Lt. Commander Data, did, so a relationship with her would not be ideal. Not that he wasn't curious as to her, shall we say, design schematics, but it didn't really go beyond that. As he sipped his mead, he realized that the answer to his question was sitting right in front of him. He'd certainly demonstrated a deeper understanding of Vulcans than the average non-Vulcan, or at least the willingness to achieve that understanding. He was fascinated by their people, their culture. And the fact that T'Vara was one of the most attractive women on board was definitely an incredible bonus. So he finally fixed his eyes on hers and said, "Yes, T'Vara, there is. And that person...is you." Alex wanted to launch into an explanation of his answer, how he felt, and so on, but he figured she had the right to ask for such an explanation, or state that she did not want one, instead of listen to him babble on and on. Truth be told, until she'd told him that she'd been involved with non-Vulcans before, he'd never have said anything. Oh, sure, he still would have carried a torch for her, but he'd have let it die out when he found someone else. But hopefully he wouldn't have to face that possibility, at least not right away.

 

[Silverbird]

It was the second time Stephens had surprised T’Vara in as many minutes, but this time even she wasn’t able to entirely hide her reaction. The Vulcan’s eyes widened noticeably for a moment as Stephens looked her in the eye and gave his answer, then narrowed dangerously as she glanced down and began to think it through.

“That…” she said slowly, “... would also be unwise and illogical.” Glancing back up, she met his gaze again, her emotionless mask largely back in place again, though her eyebrows were still raised skeptically. “You are my superior officer, Lieutenant Commander. If we are to become involved, do you really believe that you will be able to control your emotions and remain impartial when it comes to your duties? Even when you are required to evaluate my performance? Or to order me into danger?”

It was a problem that had been preying on the Vulcan’s mind lately. She shook her head slightly, breaking eye contact again as she glanced away. She ought to have considered this possibility when she had asked her question; his own queries had obviously been suggesting that he was interested. It had been foolish of her to steer him into this topic.

Not really giving Stephens a good opening to respond, T’Vara continued to speak, lowering her voice a little. “I believe you are experiencing infatuation,” she said, “brought about by the heightened emotions of our first day on duty, or by the mead we have consumed,” — she inclined her head towards their mugs, her own considerably more drained than his — “or by whatever it is you were picturing a moment ago. I have felt it as well, but a momentary attraction is not a sound basis on which to make a decision.”

Feeling suddenly quite warm, the Vulcan’s free hand went to the collar of her uniform, fussing with it for a moment as she loosened it slightly. Her other hand remained beneath his own. Despite the concerns she was expressing, she made no attempt to pull away from his touch.