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What T'Paris heard (writing challenge Grape)

Posted on Thursday, 27 October 2022 - 5:16pm by Lieutenant Alex Kingsley

Mission: Operation: My Unfair Lady
Location: Science Department

Hands clasped behind her back, Lieutenant T’Paris stood by the viewport deep in contemplation. Her partial reflection staring back gave no indication of her current predicament, of her current indecision. As a Vulcan, she rarely questioned herself. After all, she valued logic. Rarely had logic failed her. Yet the events of the day felt beyond the realms of mere logic.

She had a choice - either forget what she had learned or...

No. While the tactical officer had come upon the information by accident rather than design, she could not simply 'forget'. Her memory was impeccable. Especially when the subject matter was the First Officer of this vessel. The real First Officer.

Serving amongst Humans, especially, had taught T'Paris that as a species they were capable of much good. And yet some could be the envy of any Romulan with the mastery of deception and lies some, if not most, possessed. While she did concede that lying was, at times, a necessary evil to coin the Human phrase - both the Humans and many other species throughout the galaxy could shame a Romulan at times. To some, lying came as naturally to them as breathing.

Day in, day out, she had seen many such examples. Petty Officer Mathias telling his partner that he had to do an additional shift the night before when in fact he had been seen leaving Ensign Jenkins quarters this morning. Or Ensign Juko’va and the whole incident with the chickens… they were finding feathers everywhere for days.

Such things she had come to expect and largely ignored. But this she could not.

Not when it concerned Soral.

Considering how much she valued his guidance and friendship, T’Paris had decided to ‘mend some bridges’ with Lieutenant Kingsley now that she had returned to the ship. They may not work closely together but they were part of the same crew. The woman was now the acting first officer again - a most illogical decision to her mind - and beyond that, T'Paris knew Soral would appreciate her efforts to rise above past animosity and move forward as colleagues if not friends.

Given their history, T'Paris fully expected her olive branch to be ignored. That was for the lieutenant to decide. Yet, in an effort to risk a repeat of the altercation at the gym in the past, logic dictated a somewhat neutral ground. A place with witnesses, should the proverbial olive branch be snapped in two and driven through her heart.

The imagery had brought a hint of amusement to the tactical officer's normally stoic expression as she had moved through the science department. A helpful technician had pointed to her in the right direction, and as she approached the office, she heard voices within. One was undoubtedly the lieutenant, the other a man's voice she did not recognise. From the acoustics, they were in conversation over subspace and inching closer she did see that Soral's wife was indeed alone, her back to the open doorway as she paced a tiny patch of space behind her desk.

Hidden from view she listened, an easy task when you had such sensitive hearing as she did. And what she had overheard was enough to convince her that moving into her own quarters had not been quite disrespectful enough to her husband for the woman. And there was more...

Feeling her emotions threatning to overwhelm her, T'Paris had turned and left without ever making her presence known. Returning to her quarters she had meditated for some time before she felt she had again mastered her emotions. Or as much as was possible in the circumstances.

Soral had been a good, faithful husband. He was a wonderful scholar, teacher, advocate for Vulcan and Starfleet Officer. T'Paris found it logical to assume that translated into his role as husband and father. He did not deserve some child to play with his emotions with such callous disregard.

Humans had truly no idea at the depths of Vulcan emotions. Of how, having given his heart to one as unworthy as she, his pain would be so much more than if positions were reserved.

It was the possibility of how this would wound him that gave her pause. But she could not pretend all was well, it was better to know. To be honest.

Turning away, T’Paris sat at her workstation and began comprising her message. She hesitated before beginning, knowing - as he had shown her himself- how deeply Soral loved and cared for his wife. But she could not allow him to be deceived. It was an abhorrent thought. And so, resolved to do what she believed was right, she began to compose her message.

Soral,

I trust my message will find you safe and in good health. As you are aware, my assignment aboard the Standing Bear continues and your wife rejoined the crew on active duty just yesterday. Perhaps in error, I wished to reach out and attempt to resolve any ongoing tensions that may remain from my previous posting to the ship.

I assure you there is no cause for concern and no injuries were sustained or security officers required.

In truth, I did not speak direct to her and arrived at her office when she was apparently in conversation with someone over subspace. Eavesdropping is unbecoming and unwise, but after much deliberation I cannot keep what I overheard to myself…”




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