A Lousy Friend

Posted on Mon Mar 30th, 2020 @ 3:40pm by Az'Prel & Commander Rita Paris
Edited on on Mon Mar 30th, 2020 @ 5:12pm

Mission: Born and Reborn
Location: USS Hera, Deck 8, VIP quarters 9.
Timeline: 2397

As she moved about the starship USS Hera enacting her plans, Commander Rita Paris realized as she approached the quarters of the renegade refugee of the Mirror Universe of the Kelvinverse where she herself had originated- one Vulcan freedom fighter named Az’Prel.

The woman had been entrusted to her care by the Prophets of Bajor, the mysterious non-linear entities who dwelled in the ‘celestial temple’, the wormhole that connected the alpha and gamma quadrants. Since that time, she had received medical care, good nutrition and a home on the starship upon which she was slowly acclimating to a universe where Humans were not xenophobic tyrants.

Now, making her way to the VIP quarters which had been assigned to the Vulcan woman, Rita realized that she had never actually seen Az’Prel’s quarters, and that she literally had not spent time with the woman in recent memory. This, in turn, caused her to chide herself- Az’Prel was her responsibility, in a very real sense. Leaving the woman alone and not checking with her was not taking good care of her, and the fact that she was coming to her for a favor was not lost on Paris at all.

But it couldn’t be helped now- all she could do was to resolve to do better moving forward, and ask her favor. Arriving at the door, Rita pressed the door chime and awaited a reply.

"Enter," came the call of the refugee Vulcan woman from within her quarters. She had spent much time lately either studying, meditating on what she had studied, or observing people in either the lounge or the mess hall, and it had given her much to think on since her arrival in this universe. As had her visit to this universe's version of her homeworld, which still existed.

This day, when Commander Paris, the one that the wormhole beings had entrusted her safety to, came to her, she had once more been meditating at the Vulcan sandpit in the center of the living room. It was a dark wood box about 30 centimeters off the floor with several tools and 15 stones in it filled with a fine white sand used for meditative work.

This day there were many circles and few lines in the box, indicating cyclic logic.

The rest of the room had been dimmed to about half normal levels, which gave the three armor dummies wearing various sets of clothing from her past a somewhat eerie look. The first had the red padded Klingon armor she had arrived in. The second had the green combat priestess armor that the Vulcan Science Academy had requested she recreate. The third was the meditation robes that they had given her on Vulcan, signifying a return home.

The rest of her quarters were rather sparsely decorated, but she had a few holo-pics of Vulcan and a Vulcan ceremonial tea set that had been gifted to her by the Captain after the tribunal. Which was of no surprise to Rita. After all, Sonak’s quarters aboard the USS Exeter when they had met, had been little more than an empty quarters. While he indulged her desire for more aesthetics than bare walls, his own preferences, as was the way of his people, was a spartan décor.

Comparatively, Az’Prel had settled in and it appeared she was quite comfortable in the large quarters.

Taking it all in, Rita knelt on the floor outside the garden, not wishing to disturb the sands nor the meditator. Instead, she waited patiently- again, this was not unknown to her, and she was happy to give Az’Prel time to rise back through the levels of the subconscious to interact with her.

Finishing one last circular set of lines with the small wooden rake, Az'Prel set it aside and firmly placed a stone in the center of it, her eyes still closed. It took her a moment more for her to open her eyes and look up to greet her visitor.

"Rita. Your visit is unexpected, however not unwelcome. May I offer you refreshments?" The Vulcan woman seemed much more in control of herself than the last time she had been before the buxom commander. Then she was still dealing with the raging emotions of finding out her daughter and ex-lover had also somehow made it to this universe and that they wanted her and the crew of the Hera dead.

"No thank you, Az'Prel, although i appreciate the offer. I've actually come to ask a favor," Rita began, then shook her head, looking chagrined as she slid down onto her rump, her knees still folded beneath her. "And apparently to realize that the only time I seek you out is when I have a mission for you. I should rectify that, and I apologize for my behavior. I am one of your guides to this time and place, and once I got you acclimated a bit, I vanished from your life. Between that and only showing up when I need something, that makes me a pretty lousy friend. I know you still train with Security, and they are still glad for the training and insight. What else have you been up to on this city-sized starship of ours of late?"

"If there is blame, it also lies with me, for I have not sought you out for guidance." Az'Prel then looked back down at the large Vulcan sandbox used for meditation between them. "And though my normal methods of information gathering are useful, they are failing me in this new environment. My methods of thinking are insufficient to understand or predict the activities and actions of the denizens of this universe. I have spent considerable time... People watching... I... admit that the compassion and lack of violence is confusing."

"Many times I have been in the cafeteria monitoring... watching those there. Invariably, every morning, someone that looks like they could become violent if disturbed from their solo breakfast is joined, without invitation, by another crew member. Rather than the expected threats or violence, the intruder is met with smiles and cheer and the intruder does not initiate combat. It is... very different and I desire a better understanding in why this is."

There was barely a pause before the answer, as this was a question for which Rita Paris was not unprepared. Many first contacts races asked similar questions, and she had learned to boil it down to a simple binary answer of not right or wrong, but of human nature that seemed galactically applicable. "People tend to be motivated by one of two factors, in my experience. Fear, or wonder. Those motivated by fear are angry, selfish, petty and they denounce all that is not of themselves, as defined by their fears. Those who are motivated by wonder celebrate the diversity they encounter, learning what they can from it to enhance their own lives. They explore, they seek, and they come with the open hand of friendship. Those who come in fear, come to suppress, to conquer, to war against The Other, whom they fear."

"Those who come in wonder make friendships, forge alliances and seek harmony, for they see the universe as a thing of beauty, at which to marvel and seek to understand. Fear prefers ignorance." Rolling her eyes to the overhead, Rita frowned slightly then nodded. "If you will, the Vulcans and the Romulans. One comes in wonder, to serve. One skulks in fear, to conquer."

The lost Vulcan nodded solemnly, thinking on this logic. "The universe I am from, Vulcans are the conquerors that use violence and guile and Romulans the peaceful ones of wonder that welcomed the Terran empire with open arms, to their demise. Here they are the opposite. Yet there are two aboard that do not adhere to the behavior that is prescribed to those that attacked them."

She then picked up an unused stone and placed it at a junction between straight lines and a circle. "Thus this difference is not only a cultural difference, but an individual difference as well. In which case, I would not wish to meet Captain Telvan's counterpart from my, or a similar universe."

"You wouldn't really enjoy mine much either, trust me," Rita muttered. "There are always exceptions. Plus, fear, bigotry, distrust, and hostility can be taught, thus they can be untaught. Behaviors can be changed,m with time and patience. Even in this reality, the history of humanity is not a pretty one, and we were motivated by fear for most of our history. But we realized that we had to put that behind us and learn to trust, if we were to reach for the stars. We did, and instead of sending out our astronauts to seek new territory to conquer and peoples to oppress and enslave, we reached out in friendship. The core difference between Earthlings and Terrans."

"Thank you for this enlightenment, my friend. I have not resolved everything, but I feel I am closer." The Vulcan woman then folded her hands in front of her. "You have a mission for me?"

"I do. As I said... lousy friend. Mnhei'sahe and Mona, our Lieutenant Commander Dox and Lieutenant Gonadie, are having babies. Soon. It is Lieutenant Gonadie's wish to give birth on her home planet, so the children will be Miradonians by birth... as their heritage is mixed, this is important to her. Besides, the rest of her family is there, and she wants to go home to best and... I don't know if she lays eggs, but she is going to roost." Rita was reaching for the bird analogies here, and hoping they were getting through to the logician.

"Mrs. Dox, of course, is accompanying them. Because I am excessively paranoid, I am sending Hera along, with her honor guard. Just Jablonski and Liu. Now, with all of those personages involved, I should feel fine and secure about it all. Yet," Paris pointed that index finger at the overhead, then wagged it. An old affectation of her father's that she never would shake. "that unease... it persists."

"I would like for you to shadow them, Az'Prel. Be unseen, be the eyes on their perimeter, be ready for trouble when they are not. Just... in case." Shifting to more of a sitting position, Rita spread her hands. "If anything happens to either of them, or any of those kids, it is going to devastate them. They have both come so far in the past year... remember that encouraging the better nature through teaching and patience? Dox, Mrs. Dox, Mona... all of them have come so far in the past year. Hera... "

Pausing, Rita considered her course, then pursued it. "When I met Hera, she was a bored tyrant of a world she'd conquered a century ago, long resentful at having been brought back to this plane, and nursing a grudge against her husband, who philanders historically and rather epicly. Point being, when I met her, she sent away all of her followers but a precious few, and she was trying to commit suicide by Starfleet- I honestly believe that. Because she could have crushed us had she really wanted to... but she didn't."

"Hera offered me a boon for sparing her life, and for saving it a time or two after that. So I challenged her to be better... to be a goddess I could tell my kids about someday, not that monster on the planet." Shaking her head, Rita chuckled, which led to a wide smile. "Today she is that and more. I asked and she's going with them to ensure the births go well, because this is literally her cosmic folio, her... divine purview, I suppose?"

"As I said... they've all come so far in just a year or so. I can't let a tragedy befall them, Az'Prel. I've stacked the deck in their favor, but you are the one variable that no one can account for nor predict. At least, not in this universe. So just to make absolutely certain that I'm giving them every conceivable bit of luck I can squeeze out of this starship of secrets, short of having them bring along the Leprechaun, is to send you to watch over them all." The expression on the face of the pretty pilot was one of contrition.

"Which, again, I only come to you when I need something and that really does make me a less than stellar person. It would be different if you were Starfleet, but you are a guest. I'll do better, Az'Prel- I'm sorry. Realizing all of this I have no right to ask you for a personal favor, but..." Paris shrugged broadly, in a comic helpless gesture.

"You have come to me when you are in need, not for your own sake, but born of your concern for the safety of others." The Vulcan woman paused a moment before continuing in a softer voice, as if she were baring something deep within her. "My mentor was a member of a sect of logicians that fought for such ideals. Many of his other disciples died defending Rihannsu refugees that also believed in such things. We bound ourselves to their defense before Nero came. Before the universe fell apart."

"You have been there for me when I needed you, and you have been available to me this entire time. You have also helped me find purpose where I had lost it. Thus, logically, you are a good friend." Az'Prel said this with certainty before bowing her head and spreading her hands. "I accept this mission. None will harm them while under my watch. I am here to serve."

It was clear that the logical argument had touched the heart of the explorer, who moved out into the universe to find wonder and extend the hand of friendship. Rita Paris was humbled by the sentiment, and the unique woman who had espoused it. Her instinct was to hug, for Paris was by nature a hugger. But instead, she respected the alien individual, and adapted to their ways. To respect their culture, their needs, and their preferences, rather than forcing her own upon them. Raising her right hand, she stuck out her thumb and splayed her ring and middle fingers apart in a practiced V.

"You honor me, Az'Prel. Live long, and prosper."

"And you are my friend, Rita Paris," Az'Prel replied, returning the salute.

"Is this the customary moment for the emotional support grapple referred to as a... hug?"