MSNPC LtCmdr. T'Dara: Logic, Logic, Logic
Randal Shayne
((Deck 14, Near Michaels’ Quarters, USS Khitomer))
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The lights of the corridor had dimmed slightly, indicating a nocturnal period aboard ship. The halls were sparsely populated- a passerby here, a frazzled maintenance tech there. Her eyes followed them, even as they studiously avoided her own. She should be with them.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The deliberate rhythm was an artifact of both pain and discipline. Spinal injuries might be reparable, but the interwoven neural connections within the bone and soft tissue were so elaborate and delicate that it would some time before she felt herself again. Despite her body’s yearning for a soft bed, the Vulcan could not permit herself that luxury. When possible, mind must always win over matter, else the mind and body both grow complacent. Feeble. Vulnerable.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
At last she arrived at her destination, twenty minutes after setting off. She raised her cane thoughtfully, and tapped the doorchime, letting it descend instantly to take some weight off her taxed legs. A moment later, she was pleased to find that the cabin she’d arrived at was correct. The face of Lera Michaels glowed for an instant, until eyes recognized who she was. They didn’t darken in response, so much as shuttered, retreated inwards. T’Dara’s normally stern gaze glowered meaningfully.
Michaels: Commander. This is unexpected. How may I assist you?
T'Dara: I hope I’m not… inconveniencing you?
The woman was in pajamas, her lights were dimmed, and the air had the unmistakable drowsiness of an impending rest period. “Disturbing” her was a given- but hopefully it would not be too great an imposition.
Michaels: There is no inconvenience. I was reviewing the technical specifications for the modifications before going to sleep. :: taking a step back and motioning welcome to her small apartment.:: Please come in, Commander. May I offer you some tea? I have some that my aunt and uncle found to be agreeable.
T’Dara tapped her way inside, letting the doors slide shut behind her. She began to shake her head to indicate a negative, but the twinge in her back reminded her that twisting was simply outside the realm of what she could handle at the moment. So she settled for words.
T'Dara: Thank you, no.
In all honesty, tea sounded good. Medicinal, even. But for what she had come to discuss, accepting the gracious offer would feel much like a betrayal- and she’d had quite enough of that.
Michaels: I wished to understand the principles behind the design more completely. My father would have referred to my efforts as a "cold eyes review." There are occasions when such a review will find something that individuals more thoroughly familiar with the material have missed. :: Lera winced though she tried not to show it. :: At least among humans. The probability of me finding something of that nature would be exceedingly small. Enhanced understanding would be worth the effort.
She held up her free hand, expression growing more… bitter.
T'Dara: Very well- but there is another matter to discuss.
Michaels: Response
T’Dara tried to move into a seat, but the moment her back did anything at all, another twinge reminded her that her inevitable descent later would be an experience in supreme discomfort. The twinge itself radiated throughout her spine, and seemed to oscillate and expand across her body, until it finally exited in the form of a single question.
T’Dara: Are you always so full of crap?
Only the last word bore emotion, and it was infused with a mission’s worth of expletives. It warbled about the cabin like a violin bow on a tree saw. Dark, piercing eyes held Michaels precisely where she was.
Michaels: Response
T’Dara: Since the moment you looked at me upon my coming aboard, you have been suppressing yourself. Your feelings. You so much as glance at me, and the fire in your eyes gutters and dies- extinguished by you. Is it not?
The older Vulcan raised her cane briefly to point at the younger, bearing suddenly as calm as it was accusatory.
Michaels: Response
T’Dara: Why? I insist on a logical why from a logical being, performing an illogical act.
T’Dara’s gaze stewed, and her breathing began to grow heavier, the exertion of her question already an exhausting undertaking.
Michaels: Response
Tag/TBC…
MSNPC Lieutenant Commander T’Dara
Observer, Starfleet Corps of Engineers
As simmed by
Captain Randal Shayne
Commanding Officer
USS Khitomer
NCC 62400
G239202RS0