Three Vulcans Walk into the Bar...

Posted on Thursday, 11 June 2020 - 12:24pm by Commander Soral & Lieutenant JG Surev & Lieutenant JG T'Amar

Mission: Operation: Iktomi
Location: USS Standing Bear |Officer's Mess | Deck 03
Timeline: 2393 - MD01 - Lunch Time

{ON:}

Soral had decided to have lunch in the Mess. He often ate in his office unless he was targeting a conversation with a particular crew member work related but every now and then it was nice to eat with the other officers. He found a table near back and took his meal there. He removed the covering of the meal placing it to the side. A simple grilled cheese sandwich today with veggies. He had Bajoran Spice tea and Plomeek soup. As he added a bit of salt to the stew he looked up to see two new Vulcans enter. He took in their rank and uniforms. It was the new Ops and Engineering officers. He had yet to meet with them but this might be a good time. They'd naturally float back where he was as the room was full. He just had to wait.

Lunch was a ritual to which Surev didn't generally ascribe. Work generally prevented any notion of regularity and his personal sense of discipline had never included a rigid adherence to schedule. Still, he made the time to eat with his bondmate when possible; today was such a day. He'd begun work on the slipstream drive and had about two hours before the diagnostic routines would finish. He chose a spicy grain mixture favored by the Deltans and paired it with a salad and a cup of Vulcan spice tea. He went in search of a table and found none open though one of the larger tables was mostly free.

He approached, tray in hand, and said, "I am Surev and while I do not wish to intrude upon your meal, there are no other places open."

Soral motioned. "No intrusion. Please." He motioned to the open seats.

The 'lunch break' had been a topic of interest in her early days at Starfleet Academy. The instinctual need for nourishment was easily understood, however, the human's expressed desire to compartmentalize the hours in a day was almost Vulcan. She remained fascinated by the need for rigid and defined structure for a species that was impulsive, chaotic, and erratic. However, the lunch break had become part of her daily routine. She valued the midday meditation of sorts, and appreciated her bond-mate's efforts in including this time on a regular basis. His presence was calming and reorienting, a welcome reprieve and source of strength to finish out the duty shift.

T'Amar followed Surev to the limited available seating. She placed her mixed green salad with assorted fruits and vegetables on the table surface. "It would appear the three of us have become the object of speculation." She reported, taking her seat.

"Oh?" Soral asked raising a well sculpted eyebrow.

"The decibel level has reduced significantly since our arrival, " she disclosed, intentionally keeping focus on the food tray before her. It was her hope to not appear overly concerned about the behaviors of others around her. "And several individuals appear...humored by our congregation," she added, observing two officers snickering in their direction.

"I find that many have preconceived notions of what Vulcans are. This," he motioned. "This however is perhaps a my fault to an extent. I have recently become the subject of what humans call gossip."

To a Vulcan, privacy mattered in a way that it did not in many other cultures. Surev could not fathom the logic behind the need to pry into the personal lives of their fellow crew members nor could he willingly participate. Instead, he directed his attention to a more neutral path. "I have noted," he said, "the need to elicit a response. As though commitment to logic and discipline presented something of a personal challenge."

Soral sipped his drink. "Indeed." He pondered that a moment. "Clarify." He wasn't sure weather the Vulcan was referring to him or the general atmosphere of the crew but it was good to have a conversation with Vulcans. He felt...at peace.

"In my last posting, some of the younger members of the crew made a ... hobby ... shall we say of trying to get me to laugh at their ... humor. The fact that I did not respond only seemed to fuel further attempts on their part. I fully embrace the concept of individuality and I do not lecture on the greater benefits of logic to anyone who would listen. And yet, they persisted. I meditated on this topic for some time in an attempt to understand but I cannot discern the underlying logic," Surev said as he picked up his fork. "I will continue to try."

"Perhaps it is born out of ignorance. Many people see us and we do not conform to their standards and they feel they must make us or a badge of honor to make a Vulcan laugh. It is illogical but it is a part of their lives. We must...bare it. I have found that the crew here is a little different. Although it is a small ship so there is always rumours. " He studied the man. "Perhaps logic has nothing to do with it. Perhaps it is just for the glory of doing what seems impossible."

Surev considered that for a moment. Actions ruled by emotion rather than logic and the need for achievements that fed those emotions. He nodded and thinking of those difference and those people, he quoted from Surak. "We have differences. May we, together, become greater than the sum of both of us."

"Indeed." Soral was warmed by the words. "I had seen our transfer orders. How have you both settled in thus far? Have you been briefed?"

"I was briefed in Engineering," Surev said, "and have reorganized the work schedule utilizing a more logical approach than was previously employed. Work was prioritized and teams assigned. Diagnostics are running on the Slipstream Drive. In all, a satisfactory start." He took a small forkful of salad and ate, returning the fork with delicate, soundless precision to the plate between each bite.

T'Amar remained silent, listening to the insights offered by Surev and Soral. She had embraced curiosity as a child and often made keen observations about the interpersonal relationships and behaviors of others. Often drawing attention to her observations, she often refrained from speculation; finding speculation form the insights of others. Meditation would allow her the space and time to arrive at her individual conclusions.

"Lieutenant Kolani has been most courteous in...catching me up to speed," she shared in her common stoic voice, highlighting the colleague's euphemistic expression. She had not yet built enough rapport to gauge the officer's intentions, but perceived the intent to be rooted in self-importance and justification. "He has identified a significant decrease in the main computer's processing efficiency. We are attempting to localize the affected areas."

"It sounds as if you both are settling in and focusing on getting the departments functioning at their best. It is appreciated by both the captain and myself." He paused. "May I as a personal question?"

Their superior had triggered the curious mind within her. It was not often, in her experience, that a Vulcan would ask a 'personal' question of another Vulcan. Personal, by definition sought information of private nature. She was both inquisitive and timid about yielding to their superior's question. She gently turned towards Surev, assessing his subtle facial cues in search of his opinion in answering Soral.

Surev, looked at his bondmate, tendrils of thought curling about her mind, before turning his attention to the ship's First Officer. "You may ask," he said after a moment.

He suppressed a sigh. He was not prone to asking these questions not did he like them being asked but he would. "I have recently taken a wife. My wife is not Vulcan and our bond is new and somewhat accidental but very wanted by us both. I have attempted to share with her information about what it means but she may have questions that she would rather speak to about with another woman." He turned to T'Amar. "Would you be willing to speak with her if she has questions?" He looked at Surev...either of you actually."

T'Amar returned her glance, with left brow raised. Her head tilted by instinct, a childhood tic when awed by curiosities. "This is an unusual request," she replied, pausing for a brief moment. Such a request was riddled with potential dilemmas; the most immediate, the future relationship with her superior officer. The philosophy of logic would, in most cases, ensure that the private would be separated from the professional, but the potential for blurred relationships, especially on star ship was concerning. Intending to keep the option open, T'Amar developed a logical continuation, "One that will require more depth of consideration." It was a topic she would address with Surev during their evening debrief, as the topics of inquiry would likely pry into their own intimate relationship.

"I understand." He knew he was asking a lot.

Surev had been eating while his wife answered and he waited until he'd finished the mouthful and set his fork down before speaking again. "Then we will speak no more of it for the moment." He paused a moment, as though testing words on his tongue, before adding, "I understand why you asked. There is logic to the request. As T'Amar said, you will have your answer in the morning, Commander."

He inclined his head in thanks. There was calm pause as they ate. Soral, again, broke the pause. "You mentioned that you were looking at the Slip Stream Drive. How long until it is fully operational by your estimation?"

"By my estimation, forty-eight hours. The drive requires a lengthy calibration and a number of fine adjustments." Surev's gaze found that of the First Officer as he added, "I can send you a more detailed report if you require it."

"Just the estimation. Once that is complete if you could kindly have someone look at Tactical. We have been having issues with some of the panels."

"There should already be someone there," Surev said. His head cocked slightly to one side, as he focused on something unseen. "I will ensure that there is no delay."

Soral had completed his meal. "I should return to the bridge. I welcome you both once again to the ship. Your service honours us." He said using the Vulcan terminology.

"Itaren," Surev replied. "Sarlah nash-veh tor dvin-tor." It was, in the strictest sense, a reverse of the traditional format though it mattered little since this format seemed truer to the situation. He had indeed come to serve. He looked down at his half-eaten meal and then toward his bondmate. "I too must go."

T'Amar nodded in response, giving a traditional farewell in their native tongue "Rom-halan." She stood and gathered her tray and belongings adding one more line for Soral. "You will have an answer tomorrow morning."

{OFF}