Personal log, Stardate 40861.9

Posted on 13 Jul 2020 @ 10:52pm by Lieutenant T'Char Le'el
Edited on 13 Jul 2020 @ 11:59pm

“Personal log, Stardate 40861.9. Lieutenant Junior Grade T’Char.”

T’Char leans forwards in her chair and puts two fingers to the bridge of her nose, rubbing softly to disperse the exhaustion in her eyes. She’s not in uniform, instead donning a grey robe of some kind wrapped in traditional orange Vulcan print. Her capris are tholian silk, and a shade of iridescent bluish-black. The clothes aren’t new, appearing slightly dull with age and full of wrinkles. Her comfort garb. The console on her desk records a few brief seconds of a tired Vulcan fighting her own body before her voice starts up again.

“The events of today were altogether unremarkable. However, several factors of these events bring to mind many… emotional distractions.”

The Vulcan leans back in her chair and faces the camera, crossing a leg over the other while she folds her arms. Her eyes have dark rings beneath them.

“During the initial route towards Farius Prime, we received a distress call from an Andorian training vessel caught in a gravitic minefield. They were struck, received damage, and had many student crew members injured. I reported to sickbay as a remedial nurse during yellow alert as per standard procedure.”

T’Char tilts her head, her eyes wandering off to the side as she inhales.

“A side note, I have not had use of my skills as a medical practitioner since the academy, and I was concerned regarding my effectiveness within the medical emergency team. However the chief surgeon on duty at the time, Lieutenant Junior Grade Eddie, seemed to be impressed with my work. Therefore it is logical to conclude that my skills were adequate. I must admit, I found the experience of providing critical aid to those in need...rewarding.”

“If I had not pursued the study of exobiology, I may have walked the path of the healer.” She shrugs ever so slightly, raising an eyebrow for a moment. “Perhaps as a result of my defiance to my mother, I deliberately avoided considering the concept. It was she that insisted on my career as a doctor on Vulcan, after all.”

“The matter is irrelevant now. I was able to assist many injuries aboard the vessel, which subsequently left for Andoria once the repairs were completed. It was…”

T’Char grimaces, biting her lip. “Upsetting, to see many of the crew in pain. I am uniquely sensitive to powerful emotions such as this, a failing of my psyche no doubt. As a Vulcan we are taught to treat pain in ourselves as merely the body reacting to stimuli and therefore, a factor to be controlled. Pain in others is not something I am able to control however, not directly.”

“What is concerning is that my desire to ease their pain came not from logic, but from my emotional reaction. It was...compassion, empathy. Perhaps things to be valued in other species, but they are not logical components. Is it not my purpose as a Vulcan to be rid of distractions such as these to make decisions others cannot? Therefore in experiencing even what may be considered “positive” emotions have I not made a critical failure?”

The Vulcan puts her cheek on her hand, with her elbow on the arm of the chair. The stiff posture she's held disappears.

“A similar distraction occurred during a gathering off-duty to acquire a civilian vessel for a discrete assignment. I had arrived to offer my services and advice on the matter, as well as apply for the away mission. Ensign Kelly, an officer who had assisted me in identifying a long range scan earlier that day, brought schematics for a shuttlecraft of her own design.”

Absentmindedly bouncing her leg she tilts the chair to the side, seemingly lost in her introspection.

“Her suggestion was to construct a shuttle in the space of a week for use in the mission, as a new unique design would not have any reference to Starfleet. While the design appeared viable, I could not endorse using an untested prototype. Logically, the action is inefficient and potentially a severe loss of both personnel and material. However my concern for the well-being of the away team and the engineer was the motive behind my rebuttal.”

“I could only consider the loss or injury of the crew members aboard, and I was... Worried.” T’Char narrows her eyes, speaking harshly to herself. “I worried what reaction Kelly might have if her design resulted in a critical failure such as this.”

“Humans are delicate in this manner. They react poorly when they perceive a negative consequence, particularly resulting in the damage of other beings, as a product of their actions. It causes them great distress, which can result in a permanent fixture of their psyche becoming altered. Should the shuttle experience failure, Kelly would see it as a fault of her own making, not as a result of various interconnected factors.”

The Vulcan sits up in her chair again and faces the camera. She exhales, thinking for a moment.

“I was worried that my… friend would be harmed if the project continued without the proper time to ensure all elements of the craft were indeed safe. In voicing my disapproval, I may have insulted Kelly, and damaged our friendship. Which is yet another emotional distraction-”

She brings two fingers to the bridge of her nose again, rubbing firmly as she uncrosses her legs to lean forwards. A sharp exhale and a small groan emanates from the Vulcan, ruining any image of composure she has left for the day.

“Is not the concept of having a friend tied to emotional need? Why am I yet again worried about maintaining this relationship? Have I spent so much time smelling Humans that I am now unable to control my ability to suppress emotion at all?"

Looking up at her console from her hunched over position, she bites her tongue. Cassidy would’ve told her to meditate on it by now. But she’s not sure what to meditate on anymore. All she can see when she closes her eyes is how Hurke smiled at her while Cass turned away from the bright light in the rupturing container. How Cass seemed to just vanish into thin air piece by piece in only a matter of seconds, as Hurke was frozen in time. How much she wanted to scream, to run to her, and yet felt herself being pushed by heat in the direction she did not want to go. How she was supposed to feel nothing at this moment and yet felt so many things at once.

Perhaps she is just tired.

“I am clearly at a weakened point today. I will rest for a longer period than I usually do to recover my senses. I assume the stress of being a new transfer in a new environment is the cause of my... lapse. I will meditate before my duty shift tomorrow to ensure stability and efficiency. End of log.”