Ensign Jaran Jira - Pastoral Care With A Pastoral View
Jira Jaran
(( Hermitage, Northern Plains, Rylor ))
Jaran: I woke up this morning thinking about Callis. I wake up with it on my mind almost every day now. But today was the first time it wasn't all negative. I was thinking of our time under that rock, praying together. Have you thought at all about that since?
Munro didn't speak for a moment. Jira could tell that she was trying to give the question the weight it deserved.
Munro: Something you might not know about me, is that I’m quite a private person. It’s part of my nature I think, I’m like my mother in that way. I really want to answer your question but to do so I need to tell you a bit of a story.
Jira settled back to listen. This was steady, known territory by now. They had a reputation for being disarmingly genuine, and people had often told them they felt safe sharing what they might not necessarily share otherwise. They felt honoured every single time they were chosen as a confidant, though.
Jaran: I'm all ears.
Munro: Like I said, I’m like my mother, we like to keep everything all locked up and kept close. My father was the opposite. He was so sure of himself and sometimes it was like he knew the secrets of the universe. I wanted to be just like him. Strong, confident, sure of myself :: breaths out :: Then he went to the war - Dominion. At the time we were learning about the gods of the Alpha Quadrant, and how religion shaped societies, even at times spreading across worlds and colonies. I prayed to all of them, every night he was gone I would say a prayer to as many as I could remember - even The Prophets - for my Dad to come back to us. I kept it a secret from my mother, she wouldn’t have understood. It was my private ritual for those years he was gone.
This took Jira aback, and they leaned forward. A human that prayed was unusual among a culture that prided itself on being, by and large, rational and godless.
Jaran: And did the Prophets send him back to you?
Ava turned to Jira, her face sincere and somber.
Munro: Yes, he did come back to us :: sad :: Changed. Something inside of him had been torn out of him. That part of him that I loved the most. It was gone. Something had crept into its place, a dark ugly thing. It was like he had died :: takes a breath :: I didn’t pray again after that, until Callis. I thought that the gods had taken that part of him as payment - that I was the reason he was changed. Then I left to go to Earth. I ran away from him and my guilt. So, yes, to answer your question, I think about our prayer often.
Jira rested against the back of the bench and looked out over the grass. People really did have the same struggles all across the galaxy. It doesn't matter what gods you pray to, eventually you're going to think that they ask too much.
Jaran: That was a big step for you. What made you join me, then?
Munro: Response
Jira nodded along. One of the biggest skills they had learned from their former life was that people didn't need to be handed deep spiritual truths. More than anything, they needed to talk out what they already knew, with a little guidance. And Munro was no exception. She needed to work these things out in her own head, in her own time.
Jaran: There are a lot of cultures that do believe their gods exact a price for answers to prayer. Some stories actually point to that being why the Klingons supposedly killed theirs. There's even a story on Bajor about the But there are equally many who are truly benevolent, who ask nothing of their followers but worship. Why do you attribute this situation to divine cruelty before simply the horrors of war, wrought by flawed mortal beings?
Munro: Response
Jira sipped their coffee and braced themself. They set their cup down and turned to look at the commander.
Jaran: ::extending their hand toward her ear:: Would you mind, Commander?
Munro: Response
Tags/TBC