Day 05 [2130 hrs.] Odd Requests and Operational Reviews

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Day 05 [2130 hrs.] Odd Requests and Operational Reviews

July 14, 2019, 12:12:01 AM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Conference Lounge | Deck 01 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Top Hat
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Cross leaned back in his chair and regarded the man sitting across the conference table from him with a bemused expression, a small smile playing across his features.

”I’m sorry, sir, but…” Cross hesitated, fighting off a chuckle that threatened to escape him, ”Breaks? Vegetables?” Cross levelled an almost disbelieving look in Commander Ducote’s direction. ”With all due respect, Commander, you’re the one engaged to her. You know better than I do that neither of those words are particularly prominent in her vocabulary…”

Cross glanced down at one of the PADDs laid out on the table before him to check the time and saw that it was well into the evening. He had been in the conference room for some time, going over the Theurgy’s tactical specification and capabilities, and had been surprised when Ducote had stopped by. At first he had assumed that the Theurgy’s XO wished to speak to him about an operational matter, though that had proven not to be the case.

”This is the same Blue Tiran we’re talking about, right?” This time a soft chuckle managed to escape him, and Cross shook his head slightly as he imagined how the conversation would go should he try and broach the subject with Blue. He imagined the word “Fuck” would be a major portion of her response, immediately followed by the word “Off”, a glare, and a mouthful of something almost entirely composed of high-fructose corn syrup or some similar disgusting substance which Blue somehow seemed to exist on.

Cross reached up with his organic hand and pinched the ridges on the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. He had been staring at PADDs for several hours, and his eyes felt tired from peering at the screens for so long. His eyes aside, Cross felt completely alert and awake despite the hour. Cross had found that he needed much less sleep since his correction, and as a result he had developed the habit of working late. He had sent a message to Lieutenant T'Less not long ago hoping to set up a meeting to review the state of the tactical department and to bring him up to speed on any issues that needed to be addressed. Now, having realized the hour, he hoped he hadn’t woken her. That would hardly make for a good first impression. Cross reflected, for the umpteenth time, that he needed to stop working late and find something else to occupy his time.

He needed a hobby.

”I suppose I could give it a try,” Cross finally relented, letting his hand fall back to the chair’s armrest as he gave Ducote an amused smile, ”but if you find me drifting outside an airlock, you’ll know how the conversaion went.”

Re: Day 5 [2130 hrs.] Odd Requests and Operational Reviews

Reply #1 – July 18, 2019, 08:52:50 PM

[ Lt T'Less | Conference Lounge | Deck 01 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy | Gunboat Diplomat ] attn: @Fife

T'Less rounded the final corner on the approach to the lounge; she suspected that with the number of new arrivals in the senior staff and the not-unattractive planetary vista on offer from the room's wide panorama, the conference lounge was to become a second home among her chief haunts aboard the ship. Getting closer to the door, she heard two voices - her new superior was not alone. One of the voices was nearer the door, evidently about to leave. She stood to one side to avoid being in the way.

"... just mean that she needs all the encouragement she can get. Those twinkies are gonna lay her up in sickbay for a new pancreas sooner or later. I'll owe you one, Cross." The door opened, revealing the form of the XO in profile, still facing back inside the room. Briefly, Ducote turned to nod a swift greeting to T'Less, having sensed her approach, before apparently remembering to say something else.

"Good to see you back to yourself, by the way," he made a vague gesture at his face that T'Less failed to catch, before finally stepping through the threshold. "Please excuse me, Lieutenant. I won't delay your meeting any longer."

"Sir." She watched him go for a second, already pulling a PADD from his pocket, before walking into the lounge and letting the door close behind her. "Commander Cross," she greeted. "I apologise for not meeting with you sooner. I have been... negotiating-" she pronounced the word as if it tasted bad, "-with the Aldean and Klingon dockmasters for delivery of sufficient antimatter stocks to replenish our magazines. They were not keen to deliver the quantity I requested in short order."

Seeing him now, she saw that he was a hybrid. Vulcan-Bajoran, which was rare, although speculation allowed that perhaps a pair of the more spiritual examples of their respective races might find it easier to find common ground... not that she issued judgement one way or the other on his parental arrangement. IDIC, and all that.

T'Less didn't make a habit of reading the files of those she worked with, preferring merely to cooperate without the benefit of forewarning - after all, if they were all on the same side and equally professional, there should be no issue. She only read up on the enemies du jour, particularly if there was any advance notice of an imminent conflict. Knowing was half of any battle. In this case, however, she questioned that wisdom. Most Vulcans - hybrid or not - tended to view one such as her with anything ranging from mere disdain to outright disgust, and so it was often necessary to play the game and hide her feeling nature from most of her kin. It was a game long practised, but tiresome all the same.

"I would also like to offer the department's belated welcome to the Theurgy, Commander."

Re: Day 5 [2130 hrs.] Odd Requests and Operational Reviews

Reply #2 – July 20, 2019, 06:48:37 PM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Conference Lounge | Deck 01 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Top Hat
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Cross sighed as Ducote made mention of Blue ending up in Sickbay one day, knowing the man was probably right to be concerned about his fiancée’s eating habits. ”I’ll give it a try, sir,” He agreed, his tone not giving the impression of a man with any degree of hope, ”though if I’m being honest I don’t expect much success.” When Ducote added that he was glad to see Cross back to his old self, Cross gave the XO a bit of a grin and a nod. ”Thank you, sir. It’s good to see myself in the mirror again.” Cross’ cheeks coloured slightly at the memory of the procedure which had restored his appearance, though quickly pushed the thought away.

As Ducote stepped out of the doors, Cross saw a Vulcan female standing beyond the doors. Cross studied Lieutenant T'Less as she stepped into the lounge, the doors hissing shut behind her. She was slight of frame and had pale eyes similar to his own. She wore her hair in a manner not typical of Vulcans, though Cross reminded himself that she was, in fact, Vulcan. He would have to be careful. Many of the Vulcans he had dealt with during his time with Starfleet had not looked upon his hybrid status in a favourable manner, and while he was biologically fully Vulcan now he still looked to be a hybrid and did not behave in the cold, logical manner of his biological brethren. He didn’t particularly like Vulcans either, if he was being honest with himself. Many Vulcans had told him his dislike of half of his own parentage was illogical. He had often told those same Vulcans to get stuffed.

Yes, he would have to be careful around T'Less until he was sure of her. Regardless of whatever misgivings the two of them might have, however, they would still need to work together.

She addressed him as she came to a stop, apologizing for not having met him earlier and explaining that she had been in negotiations with both the Klingon and Aldean over antimatter stocks. She certainly didn’t sound as though she had enjoyed the task.

Better her than me… Cross thought to himself, well aware of the fact that diplomacy and negotiation were not areas that could be referred to as strengths of his. He focused back on T'Less as she welcomed him to Theurgy on behalf of the department.

”Thank you, Lieutenant.” Cross acknowledged the greeting, giving T'Less a nod. ”And please, don’t apologize for us not meeting sooner. I’ve been busy bringing myself up to speed on Theurgy’s tactical specifications, no small task coming from a Nebula class, as well as dealing with some of the… aftermath of the Versant.” Cross held up his left hand, waggling the metal fingers of his temporary prosthetic hand. ”Please, take a seat.” He gestured with the same hand to indicate the many chairs positioned around the conference table, the gesture as much to get used to the feel of the prosthetic as to invite her to pull up a chair. ”It’s me who should be apologizing. I didn’t realize the hour when I sent you that message requesting this meeting. It could have waited until the morning.” Cross directed an apologetic smile at the other officer. ”I hope I didn’t interrupt any plans for your evening.” Cross rose from his seat and made his way to the replicator, his back feeling tight after sitting and pouring over PADDs for so long.

”Can I get you anything?” He asked, glancing over at T'Less. ”Mr. Martin won’t be joining us, but since you’re here perhaps we could go over the departmental status and the progress of our refit and resupply.”

Re: Day 5 [2130 hrs.] Odd Requests and Operational Reviews

Reply #3 – July 27, 2019, 08:40:46 PM

[ Lt T'Less | Conference Lounge | Deck 01 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy | Gunboat Diplomat ] attn: @Fife

"Not at all, sir; I had no plans beyond setting some overnight tasks for gamma shift. I was quite awake."

Not to mention that she had few friends as it was, and fewer still that shared schedules.

"Can I get you anything? Mister Martin won't be joining us, but since you're here perhaps we could go over the departmental status and the progress of our refit and resupply."

"A spice tea would be agreeable," she nodded, moving to the replicator in the corner. "And for you?"

T'Less carried the beverages back to the long table, and took a seat opposite her superior. She had been consuming far more of her favourite blend since their arrival at Aldea; partly, she suspected, because she had far more time available to merely sit and adjudicate paperwork or assignments and not have a weapons battery to employ or a squadron of fighters to cover. Given the Theurgy's recent months, any time not staring at phaser capacitor levels and torpedo magazine numbers was beginning to feel distant and remote. She wasn't sure how to act.

Tea, however, was a universal constant, and could always be relied upon to centre a straying mind.

The junior connected their respective PADDs, not seeing a need to employ the room's presentation screen, so that she could highlight the relevant passages as she delivered her report.

"Here is the list of our personnel in Sickbay, and their expected discharge dates. Two required stasis, but most of the rest will return to duty within the week and the rest certainly by the end of the month. Security took the brunt of the casualties in the Azure, mostly thanks to the boarding actions. Ops were next, chiefly down to damage control. Relatively, we got off lightly."

A muscle ticked in her jaw - however objectively accurate her last sentence was, there was the perpetual nagging doubt that she could have done better, or if she had only intercepted that torpedo, or even shot down just one more Klingon raider before they lost another Lone Wolf. Casualty lists always felt like a writ of charges.

"Our own crews have replaced the phaser capacitors that were suffering some lattice crystallisation; they've seen a lot of use over the last few months and until now we hadn't had a chance to layover at dock to replace them," she said, pinging the relevant part numbers and hull locations. "Our torpedo and submunition stocks are low - all types are variously below fifty percent - and replacing them is my chief headache so far. The KDF are determined to supply their own craft first, despite a less-pressing need and Chancellor Martok's word. The Aldeans also have a concern about secrecy; if the seditious elements of their sphere of influence should find out about such a quantity of antimatter being lofted into orbit there could be security problems."

A Human might have found the dry understatement quite humorous, she considered.

"On the other hand, somewhat ironically given the resupply problem, the KDF engineers have decided that the Helmet's forward firepower is somewhat lacking, and so have offered a suggested plan to add four more torpedo launcher assemblies." The screens changed to a truncated blueprint that basically added a deck to their port- and starboard-fore launcher rooms and tripled the number of launchers therein. "I am uncertain if they were merely attempting to mollify me, but the offer seemed genuine enough and I am inclined to sign off on the refit and allow the Aldean crews to begin the work."

Re: Day 05 [2130 hrs.] Odd Requests and Operational Reviews

Reply #4 – July 29, 2019, 02:16:00 AM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Conference Lounge | Deck 01 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Top Hat @BZ
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As Cross stretched his back, T'Less moved to the replicator and ordered a spiced tea, then proceeded to ask him what he wanted. Cross asked for a coffee, just black, and nodded his thanks to her as she brought the steaming mug to the table. He seated himself once more as she took her own seat, the scent of her spiced tea drifting across the table to him. It smelled enticing, the aroma intriguing him, and Cross made a mental note to try the blend sometime.

T'Less went about linking their PADDs and promptly got down to business. Cross sipped his coffee as T'Less began to go over personnel reports, knowing the caffeine would have little to no effect on his new physiology but enjoying the taste regardless. Two crew from the Tactical department in stasis, numerous in sickbay under various stages of treatments. Projected discharge dates, estimates on the time before they could return to duty. Almost none of the names were familiar to Cross, with few enough survivors from the Endeavour having survived long enough to make it to the Theurgy. According to Lieutenant T'Less the lot of them would be back on duty by the end of the month, though Cross knew they were in good shape compared to other departments as T'Less made mention of the losses suffered by the Security and Operations departments. Cross glanced at T'Less as she paused for a moment, taking another sip of his coffee as he allowed her a moment for the thoughts that were surely going through her head. Every engagement he’d been in had been followed by the doubts, the second guessing and the unknown factor. Could I have done something different? Better? Faster? Could I have prevented those deaths?

The answer was usually “no”, but Cross knew that almost every Tactical officer he had met had the same doubts plaguing them, the same ghosts shadowing their footsteps in the days following a battle.

Then again, Cross could be wrong. Such self-doubt might be considered illogical, and therefor a waste of a Vulcan’s superior control and intellect. Cross didn’t know enough about his own species to know for certain, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to ask this one. For her part, T'Less continued with her report as though the pause had never happened, filling him in about repairs and munitions stocks. Cross raised his mug as Lt. T'Less commented that replenishing their torpedo stocks had been her chief headache up until that point, hiding a slight smile behind the rim of the mug. Her chief headache? Cross had never heard a Vulcan use that sort of terminology before. Perhaps Lieutenant T'Less wasn’t quite what he had expected…

She went on to explain the source of her vexation, speaking of how the KDF were insisting on supplying their own ships first while the Aldeans had concerns about the shipments of antimatter being targeted by seditious factions. The addition of the comment that such an event could pose “security problems” brought an arched eyebrow from Cross. Was that humour? From a Vulcan?

As T'Less went on to state that the KDF’s engineers wishes to outfit the Theurgy’s Vector 01 with four additional torpedo launchers, Cross couldn’t help but sigh.

”So the Klingons want to give us more launchers, while at the same time denying us the promised munitions resupply.” Cross placed his mug on the table in front of him, reaching up with the freed hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, not trusting the prosthetic hand to the task. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then let the hand fall to the table as he looked at T'Less once more. ”It sounds as though the Klingons and the Aldeans would prefer us to be a dog that’s all bark and no bite.” Cross reached out and took up his mug once more, taking a sip and savouring the bitter liquid as he considered the problem. He let out another sigh, sounding tired as he spoke again.

”It’s not just you who the Klingons have been giving a… headache… Lieutenant.” Cross informed her, giving the Vulcan woman a sympathetic look. ”Commander Stark has had a similar problem getting the Klingons to deliver the Deuterium we were promised. For a race claiming to be hell-bent on maintaining honour, the Klingons don’t seem overly eager to keep their word when it comes to us.”

”Sign off on the launchers, Lieutenant.” Cross finally said, looking at T'Less with a look akin to one a child might wear when they knew they were up to no good. ”If the KDF and the Aldeans think that will placate us, let them believe that for the time being.” Cross picked up the PADD again, looking over the suggested positioning of the additional launchers. The addition of four forward torpedo launchers would give them a substantial increase in firepower, and Cross was not one to give up such an option. Not with what the Theurgy could potentially be facing in the coming weeks, months or years.

Cross looked at the Assistant Chief Tactical Officer, giving her an impish grin. ”In the meantime, I think perhaps our Klingon Liaison might be persuaded to have a word with Chancellor Martok about his people’s reluctance to hand over the promised ordinance.” Diplomacy had never been Cross’ strong suit, and so he would leave such things up to those who were more proficient in handling Klingons. Cross looked back to his PADD and quickly typed out a message.

Quote

To: Zyrao Natauna
From: Lt. Cmdr. Cross
Subject: Klingon Quandary
Ms. Natauna,
I would like to speak with you at your earliest convenience regarding an issue with out Klingon hosts. Please contact me to let me know when you would be available to meet and discuss the matter.

Regards,

Cross

The message sent, Cross put the PADD aside and leaned back in his chair, unconsciously massaging his left arm where the prosthetic met the organic, the fake hand still feeling strange to him. He gazed as T'Less across the table . ”I’d also like to thank you, T'Less. I know you’ve had a lot on your plate.” Cross’ mouth curved upwards in a lop-sided smile. ”Though if I’m being honest, I’m glad it was you dealing with the Klingons and not me. No offence.”

Re: Day 05 [2130 hrs.] Odd Requests and Operational Reviews

Reply #5 – August 04, 2019, 12:40:10 PM

[ Lt T'Less | Conference Lounge | Deck 01 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy | Gunboat Diplomat ] attn: @Fife

"So the Klingons want to give us more launchers, while at the same time denying us the promised munitions resupply. It sounds as though the Klingons and the Aldeans would prefer us to be a dog that's all bark and no bite."

"Well, we have accelerators aboard to produce our own, but it's a less than fifty percent efficient use of our deuterium reserves and far slower than merely arranging a shipment."

However, there was a further hitch to that suggestion. Cross continued:

"... Commander Stark has had a similar problem getting the Klingons to deliver the deuterium we were promised. For a race claiming to be hell-bent on maintaining honour, the Klingons don't seem overly eager to keep their word when it comes to us."

T'Less considered for a moment, resolving to check Stark's log later to see what she had discovered or arranged. If she recalled correctly, the Ops chief had been slated to meet the KDF representatives just this morning... hopefully, she had enjoyed more success than T'Less. If nothing else, deuterium was far cheaper (in energy terms) to secure than its antiparticle, and far less dangerous to transport. If all else failed, they could lean on a strong deuterium supply and produce their own antimatter.

"Sign off on the launchers, Lieutenant."

The subordinate nodded, and tapped a command into her PADD. "Message aweigh. The preliminary plan was to have the first crews begin work at oh-four hundred."

Looking back at Cross, T'Less was pulled up short. He was grinning. Ear to ear. She stared for a moment - could he really be? "... hand over the promised ordnance," he was finishing.

She blinked, catching up and refocusing her attention. "Ah, yes. Liaison could be helpful. Though if even the deuterium supply has been interrupted, I would suspect that there are other factors at play. If their own fleets are suffering supply issues, any new stock they do produce would naturally be prioritised towards their own vessels. Being Klingon, they are unlikely to want to admit such a logistical weakness."

Returning to familiar territory for a moment gave her a second to recover. Cross was a hybrid, but more often than not in her experience, hybrid Vulcans leaned even harder into their emotional suppression - whether due to the more turbulent nature of their emotions or as a way to prove their worth to their fellow Vulcans, she was never sure - but seeing one disregard the attempt altogether was something else.

In the pause, Cross thanked her. She looked back at him.

"There is no need for thanks, Commander. Someone had to do it, and as much faith as I have in our Ops and Engineering departments, I'd rather take care of our tactical systems in-house. Klingons are... challenging. But straightforward, at least."

T'Less tilted her head to one side for a moment, having finally come to a decision.

"You never underwent kolinahr," she declared. "I suppose that Vulcans have rarely treated you well?" Her fingers ran down one edge of her PADD, straightening it infinitesimally so it would be parallel with the edge of the table again. "It can be difficult, feeling somehow outcast among your own."

A somewhat autobiographical finisher, but she was curious despite herself.

Re: Day 05 [2130 hrs.] Odd Requests and Operational Reviews

Reply #6 – August 05, 2019, 09:14:28 PM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Conference Lounge | Deck 01 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Top Hat
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”You never underwent kolinahr.”

Cross’ smile waned slightly at the declaration, the former hybrid unsure if it was simply a Vulcan stating the obvious, or some sort of accusation. The way she had tilted her head as she regarded him certainly didn’t seem like an accusation, but rather hinted at curiosity. There was none of the usual cool Vulcan judgement in her tone, nor the look in her eyes of someone looking down upon a lesser being.

”I suppose that Vulcans have rarely treated you well?”

Cross watched T'Less carefully, unsure of the direction she was going with this. He saw her finger move along her PADD, as though either stoking it or trying to ever so slightly adjust the way it was positioned. Why bother with that? From Cross’ perspective, which was anything but cool logic, it was a gesture that make little sense. A real Vulcan might go so far as to call it illogical. His eyes traveled up along the arm to the face above, studying it. Had it been a sign of nerves? Some sort of OCD? A simple appreciation for the alignment of objects?

”It can be difficult, feeling somehow outcast among your own.”

That final statement had thrown him off his train of though. Something in her tone made him wonder where this sudden change of direction in the conversation had come from. Was it just the fact that she had realized that he was, quite possibly, the most illogical Vulcan she had ever met? He smile, gumbled, and showed outward signs of exasperation at the behavior of the Klingons. It would hardly be difficult for her to notice.

Or was there something else?

”No.” Cross admitted, breaking the momentary silence. He leaned back in his chair, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. ”I never underwent kolinahr.” Cross regarded T'Less for a moment, not with a look of suspicion but rather one of curiosity. ”And no, Vulcans and I have rarely seen eye to eye.” Cross raised his mug and took a long sip of coffee in an attempt to buy himself time to think. What was T'Less getting at? How much should he tell her? They had to work together, so perhaps it would be better if he were open about himself with her.

Having downed the last dregs of his beverage, Cross put the mug down with an appreciative sigh, then levelled a curious gaze at the other Vulcan.

”As for being an outcast, yes. I imagine it would be difficult, though I’ve never considered myself to be a proper Vulcan. Until the Versant, I was a hybrid. Half Bajoran.” Cross paused, reaching up to scratch his left eyebrow. They had been itching periodically since V-Nine had performed the… procedure that had restored his hybrid appearance, and while it had become less frequent, the feeling still annoyed him. ”I didn’t grow up around Vulcans. I wasn’t taught by Vulcans.” That part wasn’t entirely true. He had been taught some basic techniques to control his temper by a Vulcan during his post-internment rehabilitation, but that was a rather lengthier explanation than he wanted to give at the moment. ”I’ve never been to Vulcan. So while I am generally viewed as an illogical outcast Vulcans…” Cross caught himself and hesitated as he realized that he, too, was now fully Vulcan. ”Though, I suppose I should say other Vulcans now…” He shrugged. ”I have never found it to be particularly difficult. I’ve never fit in with either side of my biological ancestry. When I joined Starfleet, I could only speak Kardasi, hardly the most popular of languages. So, I guess you could say I’ve always been somewhat of an outcast.”

Cross rose form his chair, taking up his mug and moving to stand beside the seated T'Less. ”More tea?” As he waited for her reply, he set his mug on the table and, sliding it gently forward, nudged her PADD out of alignment with the table’s edge. He studied her reaction as he did so, wanting to test his suspicion form earlier. It would make little sense for her to adjust the PADD again, a waste of effort if he insisted on pushing it out of position. Were she to show any outward sign of annoyance or irritation at his action, well, that would just be illogical for a Vulcan. As Cross watched T'Less, he couldn’t help but think there was something… different about her. At least when compared to other Vulcans he had encountered.

Re: Day 05 [2130 hrs.] Odd Requests and Operational Reviews

Reply #7 – August 17, 2019, 12:47:15 PM

[ Lt T'Less | Conference Lounge | Deck 01 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy | Gunboat Diplomat ] attn: @Fife

T'Less drank from her mug as she listened to Cross' account. Her supposition had been accurate to a degree, but his reasons were quite separate. A Bajoran hybrid who grew up with a Cardassian mother tongue - he was a child of the concentration camps. The Vulcan half of his biology was more of a puzzle, but she found herself at once sympathetic to and impressed by him; Vulcan intensity of emotion coupled with Bajoran vehemence, 'raised' under the boot of an occupying military... it was a wonder he hadn't entirely snapped already. Evidently he possessed an admirable restraint, kolinahr or no.

"More tea?"

She was about to answer in the affirmative, when Cross pushed his mug in front of her to nudge her PADD. Her eyebrows ticked into an instant's frown of confusion before her face reset again. The tablet's angle was now no longer parallel with the edge of the long table - evidently, he had noticed her minute adjustment earlier. But to disturb it was interesting. A test? Would ignoring it provide the answer he wanted? Or would putting it back as she had placed it be preferable?

There was also the question of why test her at all, and if so why this test in particular. The scientific outcomes for this method seemed limited at best and vague regardless. To see if I am as typically Vulcan as the rest of my - our - species aboard this ship, then.

The assistant chief drew her own mug over to his and picked them up by pinching their rims together, and held them up to him handles-first. She quirked an eyebrow up at him, the very ghost of a smirk touching the corner of her mouth. "Thank you. The same blend, five degrees hotter."

With her other hand, maintaining eye contact with the man, she restored her PADD to its previous alignment.

As he busied himself at the replicator, she flicked to the next report. "The Wolves have been integrated into the patrol patterns of the local forces, though there have been no noteworthy engagements with pirate vessels since they began. The mood of our pilots seems to bounce between boredom and relief that they get to fly in a safer environment for once. Though I do not believe they are becoming complacent, either. Deuterium fuel for the fighters' impulse engines is a non-issue due to their Bussard collectors, but antimatter stocks for warp flight suffers the same problem as our magazines. We could produce our own, but it would be quicker and more efficient to secure an external supply."

T'Less shifted in her chair, a muscle in her jaw clenching for a half-second or so. "They are adjusting to their rearranged roster."

Another euphemism. They had lost more pilots to the Klingons in the Azure because she had not been able to provide sufficient cover during the engagement with the Rotarran. Too busy enjoying herself trading broadsides between the Sword and the KDF battlecruiser.

Re: Day 05 [2130 hrs.] Odd Requests and Operational Reviews

Reply #8 – August 22, 2019, 03:13:53 AM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Conference Lounge | Deck 01 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Top Hat
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T'Less’ expression had given away little following his little experiment. A momentary shift in her eyebrows, the hint of a frown and then it was gone, leaving Cross to wonder if the momentary lapse in the customary cool Vulcan demeanor had been a trick of the imagination.

As T'Less pinched the two mugs together, offering them to him handles first, Cross accepted them by looping his fingers through the handles and taking their weight. She raised an eyebrow at him then, and he could have sworn that she was smirking ever so slightly as she thanked him, requesting the same beverage, though hotter this time. Exactly five degrees hotter. Cross stood there for a moment longer, regarding the other Vulcan curiously before turning away. He had noticed her restore her PADD’s alignment, shifting it back to it’s previous position resting parallel to the edge of the table.

As he nodded and turned away, making for the replicator, Cross wondered why Vulcans felt the need to be so precise. The drink should be five degrees hotter. Your pupils dilated precisely one millimeter. Sound logic makes my dick grow by zero point eight centimeters. He was distracted by the rather sarcastic train of thought, however, as he heard the mug which was held in his left hand crack as he placed the empty mugs into the replicator. He noticed that the handle had broken, and was no longer solid but separated partway down. Inwardly cursing his prosthetic for the umpteenth time, Cross set the replicator to recycle the mugs before ordering the fresh round, ensuring that T'Less’ tea was at the higher temperature as requested.

As he retrieved the drinks, he heard T'Less resume her reports. She spoke of the Wolves, of their patrol patters and rotations, their morale, and their lack of reliance on Deuterium resupply. That was a blessing, at least. At least Commander Stark didn’t have to worry about the additional requirements of the warp fighters. They were, however, limited in their warp capabilities, their reliance on antimatter causing the same worries as their own department’s lack of munitions in the magazines. Cross sighed where he stood at the replicator, lifting T'Less’ mug and carrying it to the table and placing it before her, careful not to upset her PADD again. He saw her jaw muscle tense for a brief moment as she concluded that the pilots were adjusting. Something about the comment obviously irked her, though he wasn’t sure what.

”Tea. The same blend. Five degrees hotter.” He reported soflty, giving her an amused smile before turning and heading back to the replicator to retrieve his own, not trusting the damned prosthetic to the task of carrying the other mug. As he lifted the coffee and sipped it, he let out a contented sound and made for his own chair. Cross slid his PADD to the side and leaned back in his chair, raising his mug for another sip of bitter liquid gold as he regarded T'Less over the rim. He found the assistant CTO intriguing, her behaviour curious. Looking at her, she appeared a typical Vulcan. Hair in a bob, though not the nearly tamed one he would have expected. Her composure calm and cool, aside from the odd tick here and there. He couldn’t begin to guess her age, though he didn’t know many that could with Vulcans. She was missing a the tip of her left ear, though Cross didn’t find the fact particularly remarkable. So what was it that was pestering him? What was it that wouldn’t let his mind concentrate his full attention on the reports, other than the fact that he hated reports?

”There is another matter I wanted to mention. I had a meeting with one of our tactical officers earlier today. Junior Lieutenant Annika Van den Berg. She’s another survivor of the Endeavour, and she’s had an… array of issues in the weeks following. I’d like to ensure she’s kept on light duties, and…” Cross hesitated, sighing softly. ”and away from anything explosive or volatile. She’s seeking help, but I’d like her cleared by a counsellor before resuming full duties. She’s been acting out of sorts…”

Out of sorts... That was it! The small twitches of the eyebrow... of the jaw muscle... the occasional hint of a smirk...

”Lieutenant…” Cross said, his mind picking up on something she had said a few minutes previous.

”It can be difficult…”

”T'Less… what you said earlier. About feeling like an outcast among one’s own kind…” Cross hesitated, unsure if he ought to be pursuing the question. If he was wrong, if she was not what he suspected, well, then he supposed such a question would either be considered potentially insulting, or ese would simply be logically dismissed. Either way, it would not be the first time a Vulcan had taken one of his comments unkindly, nor would it be the first time he was dismissed by one.

There was a reason he generally avoided Vulcans.

Deciding he really had nothing to lose in asking the question which was nagging at him, Cross push forward. ”You weren’t just referring to me... were you...” His eyes studied her, a mixture of caution and curiosity in his gaze. His pale gaze met hers of glacial blue, looking for some hint as to the truth of his suspicions in her expression.

Re: Day 05 [2130 hrs.] Odd Requests and Operational Reviews

Reply #9 – August 27, 2019, 09:22:33 PM

[ Lt T'Less | Conference Lounge | Deck 01 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy | Gunboat Diplomat ] attn: @Fife

"Tea. The same blend. Five degrees hotter."

"Many thanks," she said with a brief nod, picking up the mug as Cross went to retrieve his coffee. Her nose twitched a little, inhaling the subtly-different aromas compared to last time. Gently, she blew across the surface of the fragrant liquid to cool it slightly, then sipped with a quiet slurp, aerating the tea to cool it further and release a few more esters. Her eyes closed for an instant's satisfaction, then she replaced the mug on the table as Cross retook his seat.

He was watching her. Perhaps gathering his thoughts for the next part of their meeting; she was content to wait him out. Conversationally, the initiative was his regardless. Once he had finished inspecting her across the narrow dimension of the long table, he began to speak of one of his fellow inductees from the Endeavour. T'Less pulled up the relevant personnel jacket on her PADD - no particular specialisation, general Tactical track. Not a disadvantage by any means, but it did mean that 'light duties' meant 'truly light' rather than a more impactful task that might make use of such professional practise.

"... and away from anything explosive or volatile. She's seeking help, but I'd like her cleared by a counsellor before resuming full duties. She's been acting out of sorts..."

"Away from the magazines, then," she said aloud without meaning to as she made a note. The help would have been appreciated, but the targeting array always needed refinements and adjustments. Most of it was software work, and what wasn't could be handled by Ops, and Tactical's own ensign cadre.

"Lieutenant..."

She glanced up, almost guiltily, sure she was about to be reprimanded for what could have been interpreted as a joke at the expense of a subordinate to whom her new commander had a prior connection. Or loyalty?

"T'Less... what you said earlier. About feeling like an outcast among one's own kind... You weren't just referring to me... were you..."

A sensation not unlike relief passed through her at the notion that she hadn't caused offence after all. "No," she said with candour and minimal delay. "The statement was partly autobiographical." For half a second or so, she considered telling him where she was from before realising he would have no idea about her colony's somewhat... eccentric reputation. A longer explanation would be necessary. "The monastery at which I was educated preferred an... alternate form of emotional control. Rather than dam the river and only allow expressions of rationality, I was taught instead to divert the river itself to whichever destination I choose."

The lieutenant sipped her tea, still enjoying the different flavours elicited from the small chemical changes from the extra heat. "Most Vulcans don't call it control at all. It certainly has its drawbacks... not least of which is distrust from one's fellows."

Re: Day 05 [2130 hrs.] Odd Requests and Operational Reviews

Reply #10 – August 28, 2019, 09:05:49 PM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Conference Lounge | Deck 01 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Top Hat
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Cross found himself surprised as T'Less admitted than, no, she hadn’t just meant him. He was surprised, to be honest, both at the fact that she was confirming that she, too, was somewhat of an outcast just as he was, and also that she was so open about the fact. In Cross’ experience, Vulcans tended to be closed off, if not outright secretive, about such things. As T'Less continued, explaining about the monastery where she was educated, it began to make a bit more sense to him. These teachings apparently differed from the more traditional Vulcan teachings, focusing on emotional control and guiding the course they took rather than suppressing them outright. The notion intrigued Cross.

T'Less went on to state that the majority of Vulcans didn’t look on the teachings she had received in a favourable light, and that it caused a certain level of distrust form others of her… their race. Cross could certainly understand where she was coming form in that regard. Being an almost completely uncontrolled hybrid, now Vulcan, he had certainly had his fair share of negative experiences with other members of his Vulcan brethren.

Cross took a long sip of his coffee as he considered what T'Less had told him, the revelation explaining some of the more interesting quirks that he hadn’t even been sure if he had truly seen. T'Less was obviously skilled at hiding her lack of emotional suppression. He certainly hadn’t been sure about it when he decided to perform his little experiment, and even afterwards his question had been a relative shot in the dark. After another moment’s consideration, Cross lowered his mug to the table and finally spoke.

”I can imagine dealing with other Vulcans must be rather difficult, given what you’ve told me.” Cross said as he cradled the mug between his hands. The sensation was strange, the warmth of the mug’s surface felt by one hand but not the other. ”I can certainly relate, to some degree. As I’ve said, I’ve always been an outcast as far as most of our people are concerned.” Cross’ mouth twitched with the hint of a smile, the former hybrid having found the fact that he was becoming more familiar with referring to himself as a Vulcan, one of their people, amusing. ”Though I’m curious. If the statement was autobiographical, as you’ve said, then the way you’ve been behaving… is that how you generally behave? Or is it how you choose to behave around other Vulcans?” Cross wouldn’t be surprised if he were to learn that T'Less altered her behaviour to align more with a typical Vulcan when in the presence of others of their species. It would certainly make such interactions easier. In his experience, Vulcans tended to proclaim their logic and serenity like a Klingon crowed about honour, while at the same time they could be a judgemental lot. They may market the sentiments as disapproval at the lack of logic or at the emotional responses of others, though Cross had always felt an unmistakable sense of judgement. A thought occurred to him then, and he met T'Less’ gaze with one of curiosity. ”The other Vulcans aboard the Theurgy. Do they know?” He had met one of those Vulcans earlier that day. Ensign Seren, one of the ship’s counsellors. The man’s displeasure at Cross’ emotional nature had been plain to see, no matter how Seren had tried to school his responses. The thought of the insufferable counsellor brought another question to Cross’ mind.

”Do you happen to know what the Vulcan word Lyras means, T'Less?” The question was accompanied by a quizzical glance, the name that counsellor Seren had began calling him during their session having bothered him in the hours since.

Re: Day 05 [2130 hrs.] Odd Requests and Operational Reviews

Reply #11 – August 31, 2019, 11:20:31 AM

[ Lt T'Less | Conference Lounge | Deck 01 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy | Gunboat Diplomat ] attn: @Fife

With a gentle click of metal on glass, T'Less replaced the PADD on the table as the commander elected not to steer the conversation back to the original course. It seemed fair enough given the revelation of what she was - and what she possibly represented to the new Vulcan opposite her, still wrestling with his own emotions. He seemed surprised that she had admitted it so readily, but to her mind, there was little sense in delaying the inevitable reveal. He was her superior officer, and would need to know that she might not react in an expected manner in a given situation.

"... then the way you've been behaving... is that how you generally behave? Or is it how you choose to behave around other Vulcans?"

"There is often a significant reaction among Vulcans when they realise my nature. Some view me as backward, others dangerous. Some find the idea that complete suppression and dogmatic adherence to the teachings of Surak are not entirely necessary offensive - or even worrying, that they themselves might be tempted away from their chosen path. That last category are the rarest, however. I make an effort not to emote at all around other Vulcans... particularly ones I have just met."

The reasons were evident. Professional friction wasn't the least unnecessary distraction that could crop up between an orthodox and emotional Vulcan. Working out how her philosophy would be received before relaxing her guard had become as natural as breathing to her, ever since she left the monastery following what passed for kolinahr.

"The other Vulcans aboard the Theurgy. Do they know?"

T'Less offered a small bitter smile, looking down at the table briefly before meeting his eye again. "You'll forgive my amusement, sir. Had you been raised among Vulcans, you wouldn't need to ask."

In the pause that followed, some of the isolation in which T'Less lived became evident. She was comfortable enough in her own company, and that of aliens, but there was still no comfort like the acceptance of one's own people. She was grateful that she was able to be circumspect about it at least.

"Do you happen to know what the word Lyras means, T'Less?"

She looked a little sharper at him, wondering if he meant to apply the term to her or if it was a genuine query. Given his lack of Vulcan cultural context, and the fact that he didn't seem to be the type to offer a casual insult, she indulged him. "It is not a word, commander, but a name. An old one, from the era of Gol - ah, pre-Surak. Pre-logic. Broadly, in a modern context, it means 'being who carries emotion'. Between Vulcans, one should be careful that it is deployed in a manner that would avoid the implication that it is being applied to one's conversational partner; while most still wouldn't take offence, more often than not it is not meant in a complimentary fashion."

Its status as a proper noun would also explain why the UT neglected to translate it. Idly, she wondered where he picked it up. Any explanatory text that carried the name would also have a note defining it, and someone more fluent in Vulcanusu would be able to divine its root easily enough. One of the others aboard, then.

"Who gave you this epithet?"

Re: Day 05 [2130 hrs.] Odd Requests and Operational Reviews

Reply #12 – September 01, 2019, 06:11:55 AM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Conference Lounge | Deck 01 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Top Hat
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Cross listened as T'Less explained the manner in which many Vulcans reacted to her, some seeing her as backwards while others viewed her way as offensive. Cross couldn’t help but crack a smile at that, as he had no doubt been viewed in the same way by many of the Vulcans he had met, being completely ignorant to the teachings of their beloved Surak as he was. He nodded his understanding as T'Less added that she made a point of trying not to emote around other Vulcans, particularly new acquaintances.

She smiled as he asked if the other Vulcans aboard knew, though the smile held bitterness as much as mirth, and she directed her gaze down at the table for a moment before meeting his eyes once more. She apologized to him for her response to his question and stated that, had be been raised among Vulcans, he wouldn’t have had to ask such a question.

”That may be, Lieutenant. Though to be fair, had I been raised among Vulcans, I imagine our discussion might have a rather different tone.” Cross pointed out, his smile remaining in place. ”And please, don’t apologize for feeling amusement. I’m well aware of my own ignorance when it comes to Vulcans.” Cross took a sip of his coffee, leaning forward with elbows on the table. ”Given the number of Vulcans aboard the Theurgy, I would have to say that in this particular circumstance, the old Human saying that ignorance is bliss certainly doesn’t apply.” He chuckled as he wondered, not for the first time, why Humans had such sayings. In his experience, a lack of knowledge could more often feel like walking through a minefield, rather than existing in a state of bliss.

T'Less moved on to address his question regarding the name Seren had given him, which apparently meant ‘being who carries emotion’. As Cross listened to her explanation, his smile began to take on a somewhat sinister note, Cross having no doubt that Seren had used the moniker in a manner that was meant to be less than flattering. The counsellor had clearly disapproved of Cross from the start, who’s nature apparently outrages his oh-so-delicate Vulcan sensibilities enough to apply an anything but complimentary nickname to the tactical officer.

”Who gave you this epithet?”

T'Less’ question pulled Cross out of his momentary brooding, and he looked up to meet her gaze with one which looked darkly pleased. ”Someone who apparently disapproved of my lack of emotional suppression.” Cross informed her as he lifted his mug once more, though he hesitated short of taking a drink. ”And one who may soon have the stick up his ass joined by the boot of a being who carries emotion.” Cross chuckled darkly before finally taking a sip form his mug. His next session with counsellor Seren should prove to be interesting, to say the least. Cross peered at T'Less over the rim of the mug, realizing that he was acting in a manner that she might view as not the most favourable, at least in an officer she served under. ”Please forgive my manner, Lieutenant. I’m afraid the nickname was likely meant to be as close to an unkind prank as a Vulcan is capable of. As I said before, I’ve rarely seen eye to eye with the majority of our people. It’s hardly unusual to subjected to their particular brand of insult. In my experience, at least.”

Cross sighed and lowered his mug to the table, regarding T'Less with sympathetic gaze. ”So it would appear, Lieutenant T'Less, that you and I may have more in common than I would have thought.” Cross studied her a moment longer. ”Though I feel I must ask, are you going to have any difficulties working with an untrained Vulcan such as myself?” Cross had been hesitant to broach the subject, yet it would be better to be aware of any issues that may arise now rather than under more dire circumstances. ”You may not completely suppress your emotions, but that doesn’t mean you’ll look kindly on a completely untrained Vulcan, either. I’d like to know if there will be any issues with us working together.” Cross raised a hand in front of him to forestall her answer a moment. ”I can promise you, your answer won’t affect your position or duties. I’d just like to know what to expect going forward.” Even if his lack of Vulcan knowledge and training was distasteful to the Lieutenant sitting across the table form him, it would change little. They would still have to find a way to work together, and she would hardly be the first officer he'd served with to view him in an unkindly manner.

Re: Day 05 [2130 hrs.] Odd Requests and Operational Reviews

Reply #13 – September 07, 2019, 08:41:05 PM

[ Lt T'Less | Conference Lounge | Deck 01 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy | Gunboat Diplomat ] attn: @Fife

Something in T'Less' expression betrayed what she thought of her superior's counsellor. For a species that preached 'Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combination', Vulcans could certainly be a judgemental and recalcitrant lot. She considered how much of her reaction could be down to the similar sentiments she herself had faced upon detection of her aberrant nature. She decided that it didn't matter; such discriminatory behaviour had no place among professionals.

"Please forgive my manner, Lieutenant. I'm afraid the nickname was likely meant to be as close to an unkind prank as a Vulcan is capable of. As I said before, I've rarely seen eye to eye with the majority of our people. It's hardly unusual to subjected to their particular brand of insult. In my experience, at least."

T'Less sipped her tea, holding the mug close under her nose to enjoy the aromas. "We could always stuff them into a torpedo casing and launch them into Aldea's sea, sir."

Cross asked her if she minded working with someone untrained as he. If asked specifically, she might admit that the question seemed unnecessary - it was almost irrelevant. Nevertheless, she gave the question the consideration due its source. The mug was replaced next to her PADD.

"A lack of training does not necessarily correlate to a lack of control. While you were still hybrid aboard the Endeavour, I am sure that you experienced your share of scenarios in which your skills were called upon; not to mention your final engagement with the Borg. Then, aboard the Versant, you were altered to remove your Bajoran genes, and had to deal with the stronger impulses inherent to an homo eridanus. And yet, those stronger impulses have yet to consume you, Commander. A Vulcan in the throes of true emotional psychosis is nigh irrecoverable. And here you are, all but hale and hearty.

"No, I do not anticipate any real conflict due to the fact your upbringing precluded a proper kolinahr ritual."

She checked her PADD; no further items on her agenda for this meeting. She still had to re-engage with her KDF counterpart to secure a steady antimatter supply, however, and wanted to liaise with the Aldean dockworkers to ensure that the new weapon assemblies were properly integrated to Thea's command-and-control interfaces. Another couple of hours' work tonight, and an early start tomorrow, no doubt.

"If that's all, sir..." she said, standing and taking her mostly-empty mug to the replicator. She did pause at the door, though, straddling the threshold. T'Less looked back at Cross, a smirk fully evident on her face at last. "There was one final thing..."

T'Less' head tilted fractionally to one side. "During the battle at the Apertures, in the engagement with the Cube... you stole my kill, Commander. Don't do that again; I get competitive."

A nod of farewell, and she let the door close behind her.

~FIN