Honest Enigmas

Posted on 19 Apr 2012 @ 12:30am by Lieutenant JG Kestra Orexil & Ambassador Si'tar Del'an

3,196 words; about a 16 minute read

Mission: Episode 01 - Project Sienna
Location: Deck 02 - Observation Lounge
Timeline: MD03 - 1700

Kestra sipped her tea at her table beside the observation window in the lounge. There was something glorious about the view of space at warp speed. It soothed her, as did the tea. Not that she needed soothing. Thus far, everything was going to plan and, if they were fortunate and wise, would continue to do so. She had a capable staff, though a few gave her a little cause for concern. Unfortunate, but expected. So many officers who found themselves in security were there because they felt a need to demand obedience from others, rather than a need to encourage peace. She wasn't their training officer and certainly didn't want to be, but she hoped to find a way to give them something to occupy their minds and bodies. Some means to keep them in top form without riling the locals. She knew too well what bored people with phasers were capable of. Training sessions were an option, and a good one, though they wouldn't solve the problem. She could keep them busy, no doubt about that, but again busy hands didn't prevent idle minds. She was sure that the more she got to know them, an idea would come to her. She just needed to think and plan.

She glanced up as a wash of serenity poured over her. Far stronger than what she'd experienced from the Tarkannan cadet, but similar. And there was yet another, sure enough. This one wore gleaming robes and moved like water. Kestra smiled. So this was Si'tar Del'an. She'd read a few translations of selections of the Tarkannan's work - Reflections of the Ban'kina Way - the night before after having met with young Im'er. It had been food for thought, though it hadn't answered any questions for her. She'd only become more curious. Catching Del'an's gaze, Kestra inclined her head in respect while maintaining eye contact.

The moment their eyes met, a subtle shift in her path brought Del'an to Kestra's table. It was as if the woman had planned on being there to begin with. Del'an's mind seemed almost flat, lacking the surge of emotions that constantly flowed through the minds of others, but an illusion of less dimensions were dispelled by the sense that there was something seated much deeper, something that was difficult to place. The Tarkannan woman lowered herself into the seat and remained resting there in complete stillness.

Kestra felt a dense sensation right at the center of her forehead, as though a thick wad of extremely soft cloth had been placed there for storage. Her hands rested, still, on either side of her mug, her gaze even with the Tarkannan's. She felt no need to move or speak, entirely content to rest in the pliant nest of will and acumen.

Del'an closed her eyes and remained as she was for a time. Several minutes passed in calm silence. At last the Tarkannan woman opened her eyes once more, looking at Kestra with a hint of curiosity. "What do you seek?" she asked, her voice soft but with a subtle power to it.

Kestra watched, fascinated, as the Tarkannan's eyes were hidden and then revealed again. Often, she'd noticed that the closing of eyes meant the release of thoughts and feelings; people of all species seemed to equally agree - for the most part - on the fact that the eyes revealed something more than the rest of an expression. Del'an didn't change when her eyes were closed, the only difference seemed to be the revelation of lightly blue-veined lids. "Knowledge," she answered the question gamely.

"A worthy path," she replied, a delicate smile gracing her thin lips. "One not easily followed."

"Seek no battles without cause," Kestra quoted, the memorable words from Si'tar's book having stuck in her steel-trap memory.

"An imperfect translation," she replied, "but sufficient. What is your place among the crew?"

"Chief of Security and Tactical," the betazoid informed her. "And you're observing your charge Im'er Mor'an, yes? She's been assigned to my department for the time being. Bright and steady; I like her. Is that the only reason you're with us?"

"Yes," she replied, "but I have found this journey enlightening. Mor'an might once have been my charge, but no more. She will be her own once she leaves your academy. I am told that when she does, she will be a security officer, like yourself. You would do well to seek officers such as her. No Ta'rkan has ever joined Starfleet and few shall. Many believe it to be wrong." As for what the Tarkannan woman herself believed, it was hard for even a betazoid to tell.

"Wrong in what way?" Kestra asked, genuinely interested. She had wondered how she'd yet to meet any Tarkannans in all her travels. Cadet Im'er had had a particularly refined mind, strength, and compassion that seemed perfectly suited to Starfleet life.

"We do not wish to mix with outsiders," Del'an replied, "Not yet, at least." She fixed her gaze upon Kestra with such intensity it was almost palpable.

"And yet here you are," Kestra gently rested her fingers against the side of her mug, feeling the warmth of the tea through the ceramic. That warmth and the scent of the brew, light and smelling of her uncle's herb garden, kept her centered in the face of the turmoil of energy beneath the other woman's calm exterior. "You don't feel like someone who does things she doesn't wish to. What brings you to us, really?"

"And yet here I am," she replied, giving Kestra an enigmatic smile. "You will find in Starfleet that there are many things which you do not understand, the Ta'rkan way is one of those things, at least for a time. What is that phrase your people are so fond of? Seek out new life and new civilizations. Tell me, have you done much seeking after these things aboard your ships?" The way she spoke made it sound like a test of some sort.

"No," Kestra said, never thinking to equivocate; honesty was as much a part of her as her eye color. Then again, she hadn't joined Starfleet for the motto. She'd joined - at first - to seek retribution for her people. The more she'd learned, the more cultures she'd been exposed to, the more she'd realized that revenge would accomplish nothing. Universal peace couldn't be accomplished through violence. In fact, the only use for violence she'd found was in halting the violence of others temporarily. After all, you couldn't talk a torpedo down. But once the weapon was disabled and the enemy subdued, there were opportunities for reconciliation and discussion that could lead both parties to a peaceable solution. Exposure to new species and new civilizations could do nothing but expand her universal view and help her to find better solutions to the imbalances she found. "Personally, I've done more 'protecting life and seeking ruined civilizations'. I do look forward to the promise of exploration on this vessel. I'm not sure that one is more important than the other, but it promises to be interesting." She drank her tea, holding the Tarkannan's gaze. "Why don't you try explaining it to me," she asked quietly.

"Explain my culture?" she asked, "Perhaps I shall in time, but I am interested in your culture. Tell me, what is it your people do do out here if not explore?"

"My people serve a variety of positions in Starfleet and the Federation, as well as a multitude of careers and lifestyles outside of both," Kestra said, very aware of the deft way her questions were being side-stepped. More and more interesting. Just what was it she felt she needed to hide? "I couldn't begin to speak for all of them. Only for myself. As I have." She sipped her tea, humming slightly under her breath. "What is it you do, Si'tar Del'an? If Im'er Mor'an is no longer your charge."

"I am not a teacher, not in the way your kind think of it. I am a member of the Order of Ban'kina, we were the people who made first contact with your Federation." She gave Kestra a knowing smile, "But you have not told me what I wish to understand. I want to know what your Federation is. Explain to me, if you do not seek out new life and new civilizations, what do you seek in this sea of darkness?"

"Again, I can't speak for Starfleet or the Federation. I doubt even the Captain could do that. I know that a great number of ships in the fleet do fly with the express purpose of seeking out new star systems and new civilizations, trying to glean a greater understanding of the universe. I can tell you what I seek, and what the ships I have served on have strived to accomplish - balance. I began in anger and despair; Starfleet and the wisdom of my own people's elders showed me that there was a greater need. So many lives were rattled, if not destroyed in the Dominion War. Alliances shattered, civilizations were demolished, planets were rendered uninhabitable. And with those, a great deal of trust was crushed as well." Kestra set her mug down, thinking. "I want to restore that trust. I want a true Federation, all civilizations able and willing to work with each other to survive. I want to do everything possible to stop another Great War before it comes again. So I serve the Federation, because they are the mostly likely to accomplish that. If they remember history, if they do as they've stated and remain open to the ideas and cultures of those they are not as familiar with. There's a lot of ifs. But there are those everywhere. I listen, I learn, and I keep looking for answers to the 'impossible problem'." She leaned back in her chair. "Did that answer your question?"

The Tarkannan woman listened carefully to everything Kestra told her and when the security officer was finished inclined her head ever so slightly. "For now, yes. If you like, I will respond in kind. Ask me about one aspect of the Ta'rkan and I will speak with you about it." She raised her hand, drawing her fingers together and across his chest. "Just one, mind you. Choose with care."

It was possible that Kestra had spent too many years in Security, she thought, carefully considering the Tarkannan across from her. She had the advantage over many Betazoids of having grown up in the Fleet, not expecting the same honesty and directness from others as she found in her own people. Still, whenever questions were dodged and answers offered only sparingly, the trained part of her mind began to pick at the problem like a fidgeting child with a tattered blanket. Secrets irritated her; they always had. As far as Kestra was concerned, there was no sense behind telling someone there was something you weren't going to tell them beyond the pure point of arousing suspicion. And Si'tar Del'an seemed like an intelligent woman, which led Kestra to the notion that - for some reason - the Tarkannan wanted to arouse suspicion. And that... was strange. It was also strange that she was here on this ship, freely admitting that she was not here - as it said in her personnel file - to oversee Im'er Mor'an, yet refusing to state her true reasons for joining the crew. Surely someone had to know; otherwise, she wouldn't have been allowed aboard. Why keep it from her? Why agree to speak about one thing while on the other hand refusing all other topics? Why come and speak at all if she was unwilling to share? It was a game, being played very close to the chest; Kestra wondered just what was in the pot. "Tell me about the Order of Ban'kina," she said, softly. She watched the other woman, absorbing every little move and flicker of expression and storing them away to consider at length later.

"A wide topic," Del'an replied, little changing in her expression, as if she'd expected Kestra to ask something like that. "Some of our teachings we may share with others,these I will share with you if you will know them. The Order of Ban'kina strives to share in Perfection. I have studied some of the philosophies of Federation worlds. Spending some time on Earth, human ambassadors seem eager to give gifts of philosophical literature from their past. An admirable trait, though not by itself. I have read some of the 'ancients' and some believe in ideas like those of the Ban'kina. They have an idea of perfection and seek to attain it. Do Betazoids have such a philosophy?"

Kestra considered the question carefully. "That depends what you mean by 'perfection'," she said finally. "The vast majority of Betazoids can feel and hear each others thoughts and wishes, and so we've found there aren't many universal beliefs. We are culturally encouraged to seek out our own paths and follow them to their greatest heights. We are also encouraged to connect and commune with other species and cultures in an attempt to learn more about the universe and our place in it." She added the last part, watching the other woman curiously. "What is Tarkannan Perfection?"

"To be in union with the Great Purpose that guides the cosmos. We take a larger view of our world than most races. Humans are little different, concerned with their own individual concerns, and petty desires. Such an idea bothers many and excites others." She smiled a bit, "Your vulcans have great understanding, though they have their flaws as well."

"And what is the Great Purpose, to you?"

"Ah, that is the problem many of your Federation have in understanding our ways," Del'an observed with a knowing smile, "What it is to me does not matter. It is, without me, or anyone else. I can choose to follow it or not. It is..." she paused thoughtfully, "the currents in the sea of time that guide all things to their final purpose. If we choose to swim against our current, we will be lost, perhaps never reach our destination, if we swim with it, we will one day understand the twisting natures of the currents around us, including out own."

Kestra tilted her head to the side. "Do you think that everyone in the Federation shares the same beliefs?"

"That depends on the belief."

"Right, but..." Kestra began slowly. It would be so much easier if she could slip behind the walls of Del'an's mind to understand what she was saying without the tedious complication of words and language barriers. "I think my confusion is stemming from your references to 'my Federation' and 'the Federation's understanding'. I have a very difficult time thinking in terms of a mass of people sharing one central belief; a curse, perhaps, of being so consistently availed of the minutiae of the individual mind. I don't think of the Federation as mine, nor can I take their side in all things. There are so many cultures within the Federation, all possessed of their own general opinions of how the universe should be, and then - beyond that - so many individuals within each culture who all debate the same points vigorously between themselves. To think of the Federation as a unified mind is to underestimate the potential of the whole. And you-" she added, running her thumb around the rim of her mug, "are playing with semantics. Cleverly, I might add, but still." She could barely contain her enjoyment of the conversation. Stimulating intellectual debate was something rarely found on battle cruisers and all her attempts at philosophical discussion with Klask had led to him getting frustrated at her insistence on playing devil's advocate. But that was the point of conversation, as she'd been taught. To question. To seek alternate answers. To force herself to step outside her own opinions and consider other points of view. " My question stands. What, in your opinion, is the Great Purpose? You said 'it is', whether you have an opinion about it or not; I understand that. But you still must have an opinion of where that current is taking you and 'all things'. Otherwise, how can you act in union with it? Unless anything you do inherently must be in union with it, since the flow of it is unhindered, and therefore unchangeable, making choice a moot point... but then, if that were the case, everyone would automatically be in union with it, whether they chose to be or not. Which brings me back to the question, what is the Order of Ban'kina?"

Del'an gave the other woman a smile as she spoke. It was a smile to make the Mona Lisa envious. "It bothers you," she said, more a statement than question, "to be with someone who's mind is placid as a pond? I have noticed that Vulcans are like us, but very different all the same. Your scientists like to call us... vulcanoid, that is the word, yes? Vulcans have strong emotions they have difficulty controlling. But I assure you," and there a subtle change in her voice mad it seem... harder, "I do not play semantics. the Ban'kina philosophy is difficult to understand. I see now you wish a more profound understanding that most would not think to seek. Come to my quarters one evening, a more fitting place for such discussion, I will attempt to guide you to what you seek."

Kestra smiled, gratified that the Tarkannan seemed to grasp at least a part of her question. "It isn't that it bothers me," she explained. "Only that... it's like seeing in color for your whole life and then meeting someone who's black and white. There's a portion of my perception of the universe that's missing with you. It's different." She thought about it, "Interesting. Rather what it must be like for non-telepaths, I shouldn't wonder." She considered the other woman. All philosophical discussion was a matter of semantics, even among telepaths. It was discussion of perception and conception, which was inherently subjective, and therefore the only way to communicate about it was by trying to compare universal views of insignificant individuals. It was an impossible task, really, but that was what made it interesting. Even more so when she came up against people who weren't open to the idea that their philosophies were subjective. "I would like that," she replied to the invitation. "Thank you. You'll have to let me know when you're ready for visitors."

"I am grateful Tarkannan's do not have telepathy," Del'an said, standing up, "It would weaken the clarity of our vision. We are not made for such powers, even though Betazoids may be. I am ready for visitors whenever they need me." So saying, she turned and glided away from Kestra's table, leaving a wake of serenity behind as she left the lounge.

--

[OFF]

Lt JG Kestra Orexil
Chief Security and Tactical Officer
USS Galileo

Si'tar Del'an
Mission Observer
played by Chauncey William Remington III

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