Prelaunch Sequences
Posted on 18 Mar 2012 @ 2:45am by Crewman Nazhzhalh & Ensign Im'er Mor'an
Edited on on 18 Mar 2012 @ 10:00am
1,562 words; about a 8 minute read
Mission:
Episode 00 - Pre-Deployment
Location: USS Galileo, Corridors
Timeline: MD05 (Before Launch)
The orders on Ziyal's PADD had suggested he was to be attending the bridge manning the laboratories station, something usually reserved for a more senior officer. Ever since he'd received the news, the six foot pile of tentacles, claws, antennae and squeaks had been nothing but hyperactive and excited as he bounced around eager to finish his work so he could go hang out with all of the other cooler people on the bridge.
One of the crewmen assigned to his section eased out of his way as he finished putting away about ten different things simultaneously, balancing a few others on his legs as he hurriedly stocked shelves. About twenty minutes before launch was scheduled he decided he was finished, and left Crewman Nivar in charge of standing there Looking Interesting, as honestly, by the time Ziyal was finished, there really wasn't much else to do but stand there.
The biotechnologist made his way through the corridors and turbolifts of the Nova-class vessel intent on examining the bridge a little before everybody crowded on it. It couldn't hurt to be early, right? He likely would never get another opportunity like this again. Ziyal was contemplating his unfortunate lack of bridge assignment so intently that he failed to notice a young cadet wearing a red demarcated uniform heading his way. He just barely managed to avoid tripping all over himself and tumbling into her, but he did manage to crash into the opposite wall. Ziyal let out a mildly affronted yelp as he slid to the floor sheepishly.
When he gathered himself up into a standing position, he waved a few arms at the cadet. "Hello! Sorry about that..." He made a coughing-squeaking sort of sound, the trills and whistles of his normal dialect lagging a little behind its translation as he quickly spoke. "I was... a little distracted." Two of his antennae swiveled in her direction, almost pointing at her. "What are you?" he asked bluntly, blinking his owlish eyes at her unabashedly. He'd never seen another species like hers before. As, no doubt, she'd likely never met a W'qa'arr before, either.
Mor'an was calmly walking down the corridor to her quarters before convening with everyone else on the bridge. She wanted to meditate for a moment or two to clear her mind. However, she was unexpectedly assaulted en route by the most peculiar creature she had ever laid eyes on. When he -- she? It? -- finally stopped flailing about, he asked asked who she was. Instead of responding with words, Mor'an calmly touched her first two fingers on her right hand to her forehead and twisted them down and around so her palm was facing the odd being in front to her.
"I know you," she said, the traditional Ta'rkan greeting to one who is not their own. "My name is Im'er Mor'an. You may call me Mor'an." She eyed the humanoid before her. "You are?"
"Crewman Nazhzhalh. Most call me Ziyal!" he responded in animated delight, staring at her bug-eyed as if mentally cataloging every movement and interaction they were having. He seemed little phased by the greeting or the words, though whether or not he comprehended them was up for debate. Most of the time it seemed like people did and said strange things, he was growing used to it as the wide variety of species within Starfleet became apparent to him. He lifted up one of his four arms and placed two of his tentacle claw-tipped fingers against his forehead and repeated the motion. "That means hello?" he inquired guilelessly.
Mor'an raised an eyebrow and smiled at Ziyal's imitation of her. "For women," she said, "Men have a different gesture." She raised her fingers again to her forehead and then turned her palm outward without the twisting motion. "It is not a 'hello,' but rather it means more along the lines of...knowing the other on the same mental frequency." She furrowed her brow, knowing she didn't explain the concept as fully as she probably should have.
"Oooh!" Ziyal whistled brightly, placing his hands in front of one another clasped. "W'qa'arr do not have gender. Most identify me as male... I am not certain why," he mused a little. He really didn't understand what made up male and female beyond sexual organs, so he had a hard time understanding why he was referred to as such. "It does not bother me," he said with a shrug. "You are a female?" he asked, curiously.
"Well, yes," Mor'an said, answering a question she never thought she would have to answer. "My race, the Ta'rkan, rely heavily on gender. My sisters and I belong to a different order than our brother because we are female and he is male." She had the slightest inkling that Ziyal didn't really understand the concept of orders of males versus females, but she hoped he try to work it out.
"Different order?" The crewman seemed fascinated, leaning against the wall and pressing a few fingers against his jaw. He didn't seem confused (though he was), but then again he didn't seem much of anything except excited and hyperactive. Since being in the Alpha Quadrant he had heard of some species such as the Ferengi who seemed to devalue specific genders, but he truly didn't comprehend any of it. It was like a fuzzy spot in his mind that just didn't come into any real focus. "Are you not equal?" he asked curiously.
Mor'an sighed, trying to think of the best why to explain a gender-oriented race to a creature with no concept of gender. "We are very much equal," she said finally, "But our planet remains peaceful when do not mix. If there are too many members in the same order, it becomes chaos, something that my people cannot abide. It is the tradition of the Ta'rkan to keep each order separate. Of course, our family life is nothing like that. While my mother, sisters and I are members of a different order then my father and brother, we still live in peace at home. It is simply a way to pass on the legacy of tranquility and serenity to those that come after us." Mor'an didn't know if that made any sense at all, let alone any sense to Ziyal.
"Why is there chaos when different genders mix?" Ziyal lobbed yet another question her way. Really, it was not a good idea to give the poor alien information, as he had a tendency to bombard it with questions until it rolled over and died. During the Academy and his time on Earth he'd noticed a few people discussing the different genders, but he could never really understand why people separated them in such a way. "Is your neurophysiology different between each gender?" He seemed genuinely interested, though his expressions did not change much between the chirps and clucks and blinks of enthusiasm as he processed the information.
"It is not that the mixing of genders causes chaos," Mor'an said, becoming increasingly weary of the subject at hand. How was she supposed to explain in a way to make him understand? Other species with genders could barely understand. "It is just how we do things," she said with a delicate roll of her shoulders.
It took Ziyal a little but eventually he figured out that he was becoming monotonous, and he gestured toward her slightly, his antennae pointing at her while blinking. "Yes... interesting!" he simply let it go. He looked up slightly and realized a few people were walking toward the bridge and pointed a few of his arms in that direction. "Are you going to the bridge?" he asked, pushing away from the wall a little.
"I was going to meditate for a moment in my quarters," Mor'an replied, "Empty my head so as to have a clear mind for the launch." She eyed Ziyal, hoping he was not helplessly confused by her seemingly disjointed explanation of her culture.
"Oooh!" Ziyal whistled again amidst complicated gestures. Meditation was something many species seemed to find an inherent part of their social structure. It was not so for W'qa'arr, and he found it, well, interesting. Fortunately he had the good grace not to ask, why do you meditate, but it was tempting. He gave a large, though somewhat more graceful flail than before tacking on, amidst clicks, "That is important!" After which, he just stood there a bit awkwardly. When it came to protocol, Ziyal knew most of it off hand. But when it came to social interaction...he came up short.
Mor'an couldn't hold back the smile that crept across her lips. Despite the obvious differences between Ziyal and herself, she couldn't help but develop a fondness for his childlike and innocent mannerisms. He didn't seem to know what to do with himself or his extra appendages, so Mor'an decided to save him from further discomfort. "I shall leave you, then," she said gently, "You will be on the bridge, I assume? I will see you there." Ziyal merely chirped happily after her, before they parted ways.
CN Nazhzhalh
Biotechnologist, U.S.S Galileo NCC-80010
Cadet Senior Grade im'er Mor'an.
Red Squad Intern
USS Galileo
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