RP Log: How To Make Friends
| Roleplay Log | |
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Location(s):
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Stardate:
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| 2026-02-05 23:15 | |
- Commander's Office <Emissary Station>
- This dedicated office is large and designed to meet the needs of the officer and billet assigned to it. The carpet is an almond colour with a sand coloured trim, with the bulkheads, walls, and furniture in a subdued beige. The room is bathed in a soft glow from the overhead lighting panels, and a glossy black panel set into the bulkhead opposite the door provides access to an LCARS interface. A sizeable desk is positioned in the center of the room, with a tall backed swivel chair behind it. A display curves out of the desk with a touchpad set into the desk at its base, and on the opposite end is a tall, built-in lamp. In front of the desk are two mid-sized chairs, and two workstations are built into the bulkheads on either side of the room in small cubicles. Displayed on an interior bulkhead wall is a beautiful painting of the Bajoran countryside.
The Vulcan captain has had the chance to clear her desk for your visit, since she knew you were coming. She has replicated a Vulcan tea blend and some Vulcan baked goods that resemble scones, and these sit on a side table in the seating area of her office. She is facing the door as it opens
T'Hana steps inside the office and clasps her hands behind her back. She inclines her head slightly. "Captain," she greets. "I am T'Hana. Lieutenant junior grade. Chief Engineer, USS Coleman."
T'Shaav nods to the other Vulcan and offers a Vulcan salute. Still speaking Standard for now she says, "Live long and prosper, Lieutenant. What do you require?"
T'Hana spreads her fingers to return the salute. "Live long and prosper," she replies. "I requested this meeting because you have served with mixed-species crews for an extended period and with distinction. My own experience in that regard is limited." She does not soften the admission or dramatize it. Instead, she just explains: "I find the adjustment... nontrivial. I am the sole Vulcan aboard my vessel. While this is not a disadvantage in technical matters, it has proven more complex in interpersonal ones. I seek to understand how you achieved professional effectiveness without compromising either your standards or your identity." T'Hana continues to observe T'Shaav. "If you consider that a reasonable inquiry," she adds.
T'Shaav nods. "Sit down," she says in Vulcan. "Have refreshment if you wish it." Her accent is slightly nonstandard and may indicate that she grew up in a particular region on Vulcan far from the commercial centers of government."
T'Hana nods. She lowers herself into the seat in a manner that could only be described as precise. Once seated, she does not move a muscle other than those necessary to talk.
"It can be difficult," T'Shaav goes on in her native tongue. "I eventually came to understand that although their ways of thinking were not logical or efficient as I define those concepts, their input is often valuable once I filter out the extraneous content."
T'Hana inclines her head slowly, absorbing the statement without interruption. There is no immediately reply as T'Hana tests the idea against one of her own mental frameworks. "That is... consistent with my observations," she says at last. "Though I have not yet achieved the efficiency you describe." She looks directly at T'Shaav with half-lidded eyes. "I am curious how you developed this filter without dismissing the speaker. I find that when I disregard the extraneous elements too visibly, it is interpreted as disregard for the individual."
T'Shaav nods. "That is almost an art form," she says. "Humans and others pay attention to nonverbal cues. If you gesture or otherwise appear nonverbally dismissive, they will lack the framework for knowing that you are merely filtering out what you do not require. I find that if I provide no stimulus that gives them a cue that I am filtering their output, they do not know. Nor do I comment verbally about what I have filtered away. I merely reply with what is required by the interactions."
T'Hana nods again. "In order to discuss this topic most efficiently, I propose that 'human' refer to any non-Vulcan, given their majority in Starfleet," she suggests. "Agreed?"
"Or, non-Vulcan can refer to non-VUlcan. More efficient."
T'Hana nods. "Very well," she agrees. T'Hana collects her thoughts before continuing a moment later. "I do not wish to emulate them," she says. "Nor do I believe that would be appropriate or sincere. I wish to be with them. Not apart. Not absorbed. Adjacent." She folds her hands in her lap. "Mutual regard without imitation. Cooperation without pretense."
T'Shaav nods and thinks for a beat. "Be yourself, T'Hana. be nothing less, and nothing more. Because to be otherwise would not be logical. Be yourself, and those who perceive you accurately shall welcome your society. If not, then it is no loss to you."
T'Hana nods. "I can only be myself," she agrees. When T'Shaav calls it logical, that seems to satisfy her. "As the only Vulcan aboard, my default state is distance. That distance has measurable effects. Others hesitate before approaching me. They pre-edit their statements. Some apply what they believe to be a Vulcan affectation in their communication style." Suddenly, T'Hana inclines her head towards T'Shaav. "A personal query, Captain," she says. "Do you have many friends?"
T'Shaav gives that one a few moments thought. "The word friend in our language has meanings to it that most who speak Federation standard do not assign to it. I have some Vulcan friends," and she's still using Vulcan. "As to the Federation Standard word, friend," and she uses that word now, "it is overused." She switches to Federation Standard now. "Many non-Vulcans, specially in mixed species context, use the word friend with an extreme degree of casualness. Though, not all. I have many acquaintances, many colleagues, very many comrades in arms in the sense of fellow members of the service. But friends. A very few."
T'Hana stares forward as she listens. When it's her turn to speak, she nods in agreement. "I now see that my use of 'friend' introduced ambiguity in our conversation," she replies evenly. Several more seconds pass before she continues. "I am speaking of the non-Vulcan term." After another measured pause, she says, "I do not want distance between myself and my crewmates. Service in Starfleet requires extended proximity. Years, potentially. Mutual regard reduces cognitive load. I wish to achieve that mutual regard with my crewmates."
"Then serve," T'Shaav says. "Serve capably, serve well, and it comes." She thinks for a moment. "There are people who have saved my life, and I, theirs. However," she appears to think about her wording. "There are people in the service who have recognized me with medals and citations for deeds they considered valorous or beyond the call of duty, though I was merely doing my duty. I could not have done otherwise in those situations." A beat. "They may not all be my friends. But they respect me as an officer and, more so, as a being. Sometimes, specially perhaps for us, respect of person comes first. Friendship, if it comes, comes later. So, serve, sever well, because to do less is not logical. The rest will come, if it does, when and as it will."
T'Hana listens without interruption. Her expression is composed, attentive. When T'Shaav finishes, there is a moment of silence as T'Hana lets the words settle. She inclines her head. "That is... clarifying," she says. "I have been attempting to determine whether my difficulties indicated a failure of approach. Your assessment suggests that they may instead be a consequence of sequence." She nods. "You suggest that competence itself establishes the necessary foundation and that other considerations need not precede it," T'Hana continues. "On Vulcan, respect and understanding are often assumed to arise concurrently. It had not occurred to me that, in Starfleet, respect may be sufficient and, initially, preferable." She seems relieved.
T'Shaav nods. "Leastwise, that is my observation based on my own decades in the service. There are things I still do not understand. Ideom, for example, and humor. But I have at least learned to recognize them when they are being used and that they, usually, mean no offense of person or of rank."
"Seeking the advice of someone with your years of service is logical," T'Hana points out. While it sounds like she's complimenting her choice to come, it's meant to acknowledge T'Shaav's service. T'Hana nods, eyebrow quirked. "I have experimented with... humor," she admits. "It did not produce the intended result."
T'Shaav nods. "While there are many Vulcans in Starfleet, I hypothesized that some of my former shipmates may have suggested you come to me?" A beat. "In any event, humor often fails when we attempt it. People know that we are forcing the matter, and since they do not expect it from us ..." She shrugs one shoulder, an economical gesture with hardly any motion. "I tend to leave humor to others."
"I now understand why there are so many Vulcan-only Starfleet vessels in the fleet," T'Hana replies mildly. T'Shaav's hypothesis inspires a nod. "Captain Phil Sawyer," she confirms.
"Indeed," she says extremely dryly. "The antithesis of a Vulcan in demeanor. Yet, did you find yourself able to communicate with him?"
T'Hana nods. "Actually, I found him to be refreshingly helpful," she explains. "I was trying to understand a situation where I offended a medical officer by addressing her with her duty rank. His explanation was... satisfactory."
T'Shaav nods. "He understands Vulcan psychology without feeling the need to attempt to emulate it or deconstruct it. When someone understands how we commmunicate and simply communicates, the result is often satisfactory. There are many in the service who can do so."
T'Hana nods. "I concur," she replies. "Though, I admit that I find it mildly irritating when people attempt to emulate or apply Vulcan affectations to their speech."
"Irritation is an emotional response," T'Shaav says mildly. "You must master it." There is no rebuke in her words or in her expression or body language. "Though it is an understandable response." Her padd vibrates and she glances down at it. "Curious. Your vessel has been assigned patrol duties in the northwestern quadrant of Federation Space, proximate to Deep Space 3."
T'Hana's eyelids fall halfway as T'Shaav points out her emotional expression. She nods fractionally. "Indeed," she replies. "I will address it with meditation." After a moment passes, a calculated length of time to signal that T'Hana does take her meditation seriously, she nods again. "For that reason, my visit to Emissary Station will be a brief one," she explains.
T'Shaav nods delibertively. "Where is the Coleman presently?" She inquires.
"Spacedock," T'Hana answers immediately. "I am told that the return trip is nearly direct."
"It is, but I see no need for you to make it. I will speak to your commanding officer and ask that he meet you here. We will supply your ship with anything it needs, and you can proceed to Deep Space 3."
T'Hana shakes her head. "Captain," she replies. "For personal reasons, I would prefer to depart. There is a social occasion being organized by the commanding officer of the Coleman and I intend to be present for it."
T'Shaav nods. "Very good. Will you be departing immediately?"
T'Hana nods. "Following our conversation, I will be boarding the shuttle to return," she replies.
"I see," she says. "What else do you wish to discuss, since you have come?"
T'Hana shakes her head. "I have accomplished all that I intended," she states simply. In fact, she rises from her seat.
T'Shaav stands slowly. "Peace, and long life, T'Hana," she says, offering a Vulcan salute in parting. "Send me a communique if you wish further advice in your situation. I shall be observing your future career. I trust it will prove satisfactory." The last is delivered as a simple statement.
"Live long, and prosper," T'Hana states, returning the salute with her own. Then, without further ado, she leaves.