Personal Log, Stardate 40857.55

Posted on 11 Jul 2020 @ 5:17pm by Lieutenant T'Char Le'el
Edited on 20 Jul 2020 @ 5:56pm

The screen flickers to life and a Vulcan looks directly at the camera with glazed eyes. Her body is hunched on the desk, leaning on her elbows. She bites her lip, letting her eyes wander for a moment before speaking.

“Lieutenant Junior Grade T’Char, personal log stardate 40857.55 , USS Boston. January the second in Federation time.”

T’Char leans back in her chair, looking up at the ceiling disdainfully. Her words are spat from her mouth as if they have an unpleasant taste.

“On the seventh of this month is the twelfth anniversary of the Cardassian military’s offensive action against the refugee camp on Delri IV, resulting in the death of over 200 Bajoran civilians and 13 volunteer doctors, including my mother A’ulu.”

A small exhale leaves her body as she readjusts in her chair. T’Char refocuses on the screen, her facial muscles relaxed. Her only visible movement comes from her eyes for a few seconds, and she continues.

“Though it is an unfathomably tragic event, nash-veh ri kup tor la'tusa.”
I cannot mourn

“It is intriguing, as a Vulcan I strive to rid myself of emotions in order to achieve logic. Yet I feel I must allow myself emotions in this moment from the nature of this event, and I cannot conjure them or feel their presence. There are many on my world who would consider this a great gift. However, all I can seem to consider is-uhnf”

T’Char pauses, letting the rest of the air out of her lungs. She puts a hand on her heart, just under the ribcage. A small twinge made the organ stutter. Another inhale, and a reassertion of posture allows her to go on.

“If… if I were Human I might regard the loss of feeling in a moment such as this as a travesty.”

A longer pause allows her to think for a moment, Wuh kodona t' ozhika.

“My mother and I disagreed on many things. Our arguments were the only form of communication we shared at the time of her death. I respected her decision to render aid to the Delri IV colony. Perhaps if she had lived we may have found more common ground on the sub-”

A chirp from a screen behind her interrupts her statement. She furrows her brow, standing up. A hand taps the console on her desk, pausing the log.

~

T’Char walks to the screen on the wall adjacent, lightly pressing the small point of light that indicates a subspace transmission. A face appears, much like an older version of T’Char, tan-brown skin with a turned up nose. Her eyes appear much kinder, and her brow is decidedly without knots or tension of any kind. She smiles at the appearance of her sister aboard the Boston, much to the dismay of T’Char.

“It is not appropriate to express your emotions in such a manner H’esti.”

The other Vulcan offers a small laugh, causing a reflexive grimace from T’Char.

“It is pleasant to see you too little sister!”

T’Char reluctantly offers a very slight smile in return, causing H’esti’s eyes to sparkle.
“It is agreeable to see you again as well.”

“How’s the Boston been treating you? Have you had a chance to give my recipe to the Lieutenant yet?

T’Char turns to look at a padd on the desk behind her. Prominently displayed across the screen is the title, H’esti’s Triple Spicy Plomeek Soup Inferno, Sas-a-shar Edition.

“...No.”

“Pity! I’m sure she’ll love it. You should share it with the crew, food is the best way to make new friends! You’re not such a bad cook yourself you know-”

The younger sister snaps her head back around to glare through the transmission at H’esti, causing the elder to hold her hands up in a gesture of surrender.

“Alright, alright. You’d probably leave out the cayenne pepper anyways, wouldn’t do it justice.”

“To say your barbaric rendition of a traditional Vulcan staple does any form of justice is beyond my comprehension.”

H’esti raises an eyebrow as she lets her hands down and leans into frame, grinning softly. T’Char continues.

“To answer your previous inquiry, I am in good health. The Boston is a comfortable environment, and the crew compliment is agreeable. I anticipate my work here will be stimulating.”

“Good! I worry about you sometimes Tish, you’re very sensitive.”

T’Char frowns. “Refer to me as T’Char.”
“Sure thing Tish. Anyhow, I just wanted to check in this week considering… well. You know.”
H’esti’s expression shifts to worry as her sibling grows silent. This was not a subject they broached very often, but she wondered if the change in scenery would make T’Char more receptive.

“I am fine H’esti,” the younger sibling replies, with uncertainty filling her statement. “There is nothing to discuss.”

H’esti sighed, figuring that was going to happen. “Well, I am here if you need to talk. I know you and mom weren’t exactly-”

“I do not wish to speak on this at this moment.”

“Of course. My apologies.”

T’Char clenches her jaw tightly, looking at her feet. “There is no need to apologize. I understand you wish to… offer support. Perhaps at another time.”

“Whatever works for you Tish. Stay in touch out there okay kiddo? Mene sakkhet ur-seveh.”

“Sochya eh dif H’esti.”

“Nash-veh ashaya du.”

The younger sibling pauses, biting her lip. She exhales before speaking again, quietly. “Nash-veh ashaya du nuh.’ “

H’esti smiles brightly and her transmission cuts out.

~

“Resume personal log.”
The image returns where it left off. T’Char is sitting at her desk screen, hands folded in front of her. She inhales as if to speak, but releases the air. Her eyes briefly flit back to the comm panel behind her before she speaks directly to the screen.

“The past cannot be altered. It is not productive to consider alternate possibilities to actions that cannot be undone. Time and its results are unalterable. There is no logic in avoidance of facts that have become permanent. I must accept that there is nothing I can do to resolve my differences with my mother, and move forwards.”

The Vulcan puts a hand to her heart again, anticipating a sharp pain that never arrives.

“End of Log.”