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Personal log, Stardate 40915.12

Posted on 05 Aug 2020 @ 2:31pm by Lieutenant T'Char Le'el

T’Char pinches the bridge of her nose with two fingers as she sits at her desk. There’s a small stack of PADDs layered atop each other covering the console. Each one has a different simulated antigen, vaccine, or gene therapy with potential for combating Pravum-Ataraxia. None of them seems to be successful.

She glances up at her window. The Vulcan mentally notes that it’s become a bit of a routine to stare into the void whenever she finds herself in thought. Evidently she’s a creature of habit. She bites her lip.

“Computer, begin personal log stardate 40914.12.” T’Char speaks in one breath, with no energy behind her voice. It’s almost hoarse, and very clearly tired.

“Kyr and I.. had dinner together.”

She opens her mouth to say more, but can’t seem to find the words. She settles for biting down on her tongue and standing up, starting to pace across her room.

“We.. discussed a number of things. Mainly relating to the current situation at hand regarding the bioweapon. He has offered an insight as to the behavior and philosophy of the spore’s creators, which has ultimately been helpful in reverse engineering the design of Pravum-Ataraxia.
She inhales sharply, but instead of using the air to speak she simply lets it all out of her lungs. Her hand comes up to pinch the bridge of her nose again.

“That is not all we discussed. We shared a number of personal experiences, and I asked if he would take me on a tour of the holodeck simulation of Andoria. He.. agreed. Though we have not set a time or day for this excursion.”

T’Char moves back to her desk chair, sitting down and leaning forwards with her hands clasped and her elbows on the table surface. She rests the front of her lips on her fists, allowing her eyes to dart over the information periodically drifting through her console. It’s nothing all that fascinating, or that she hasn’t already digested completely within the past several hours, but it’s at least something to keep her vision occupied.

“I look forward to it with anticipation I can only describe as nervous. The fact that I dread spending time with Kyr alone for an extended period is disconcerting, let alone the fact that I am feeling anything about it at all.”

Her jaw clenches, and she pulls a full lung of air in through her nose while pressing her lips tightly shut. Her brows are characteristically furrowed.

“No, there is a logical series of conclusions I am able to make that can explain these errant emotions.”

She sits up in her chair, scooting herself into the cushion, placing both hands on the armrests and forcing herself into an upright position. She’s visibly uncomfortable, but it’s not the fault of her chair.

“As I have mentioned in a few previous logs, I have not had many positive experiences with Romulans. Neither has the rest of the crew, and our latest guest is, no exception to that pattern.”

The Vulcan sighs as she speaks, and the echo of air behind her words translates a measure of frustration.
“She is abrasive, arrogant at every opportunity, and extremely pretentious. In finer terms, a typical Romulan.”
She winces. It almost sounds like she’s describing herself.

“In any case, her demeanor is having a very adverse effect on crew behavior. I have not seen such aggression and exclusion in a Starfleet crew before. Correction, not such overt hostility at least. Exclusion can be rather common onboard human led starships, though normally it takes the form of avoidance rather than open expression of displeasure. I myself have experienced this very phenomena firsthand, it was one of the primary factors in my transfer from the Kent.”

T’Char glances at her feet, gripping the armrests unconsciously.

“It would be untruthful to say that I do not..also experience displeasure at her presence. Or that I have not expressed said displeasure to her in some fashion. Therefore, my concern of the potential for this same hostility to be directed at myself is unjustified, given the scenario in which my Romulan heritage becomes a known fact. However, despite the illogical nature of the emotions, I...continue to have them.”

Her voice starts to waver slightly. The Vulcan folds her arms around herself in a sort of self-hug, and spins her chair to face the window again. Her legs come up to her chest as she pushes her head against the tall backrest.

“There is also the distinct possibility that Kyr will cease his association with me altogether. I am not certain that my status as a Vulcan is all that positive considering his past relationships with Vulcans. To reveal to him that I am also a Romulan will be extremely damaging. Firstly because of the current attitude towards Romulans derived from recent experiences, and secondly because a Vulcan would have betrayed his trust a second time.”

There’s a small cut on her lip where she bit down too hard. The pinprick of green blood leaves an intense copper taste on her tongue, and she sucks at the wound to close it. The Vulcan unfolds her arms and wraps them around her legs to pull them closer to her body.
“Somehow, what Lieutenant th’Vovass thinks of me is very important. I..I do trust him quite deeply.” She pushes a short breath out her nose, almost to subversively disapprove of her own statement.

“He has already demonstrated a level of trust in me as well, considering how he handled the- incident.”
A memory of promotion night causes the Vulcan’s face to flush a bright green in coordination with her ears, and she instinctively covers her face with her hands. Then she remembers she’s alone in her room. She stays hidden anyways, it feels appropriate given the level of lo'uk mesh katau tor ish-veh skan.
T’Char thinks her sister H’esti would probably laugh hard enough to give herself an aneurysm if she saw that.. particular log. At least she didn’t call anyone when she was drunk, there’d be no way to face that person ever again. Only, that’s not entirely true. Kyr was there the whole time.

I must not allow myself to become so compromised again. My behavior was immeasurably inappropriate.” The Vulcan speaks through her fingers, still hiding. Her voice is low and a bit unstable for someone supposedly in total control of her emotions.

“The mere fact that he still remains my friend, after my.. outburst? Is nothing short of tangible evidence that fate not only exists, but intervenes.” T’Char thinks to herself that now she really does sound like a Romulan.

“Either way, I place a great deal of importance on maintaining a positive relationship with him. If I do not tell him and he discovers my Romulan lineage through other means, the situation will become notably worse. There is also the very real possibility that even if I do tell him he will react negatively. So.. I am taking a great risk either way.”

T’Char stares at her reflection in the window for a time. The Vulcan can’t help but fixate on her plasma burn. Part of her thinks she’d be more approachable if she’d allowed for cosmetic reconstruction. It was too late now anyways. She touches the damaged flesh gingerly with her hand, taking her fingers lightly over the ridges. It’s not calloused like she expected, just soft and pliable. Like the rest of her skin.

“But at least I will be, placing trust in him. I hope that will be an adequate gesture.”

Her hand drops from her face as she moves to pull herself back to the desk. She takes a few PADDs from one side of the surface and piles them neatly into a stack, focusing on the task of organizing to reset her sense of mental balance.

“This potential visit to the holodeck is not yet a reality, so my concern is moot. There is no logic in considering potential outcomes to a chain of events that has not and likely will not occur for some time. If at all.” T’Char finishes rearranging her desk space, and she leans back into her chair, just a little less tense than she was. A glance at her computer console screen forces her to raise an eyebrow weakly. The Vulcan equivalent of a double take.

“It is also quite late, and I must meditate. Presumably my emotional imbalance is resulting from some form of exhaustion. It may be prudent to sleep, a day or two from now. Meditation will suffice in the meantime. End log.”

The computer blips to tell T’Char her log has been cataloged. She stands and makes her way to the bed, sitting back down on a layer of cushions. It’s very soft, and she decides to lay on her back for a moment, closing her eyes. A few controlled breaths later, the meditation exercise turns into a nap.


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