Posted by Ensign Kastarak (Doctor) in Mess Hall - Midnight Stew

Posted by Lieutenant Commander T’Aria (XO / Navigation Officer) in Mess Hall - Midnight Stew

Posted by Ensign Kastarak (Doctor) in Mess Hall - Midnight Stew
OOC: Hope it’s okay I reply to this in this way, creating a new subtthread, so that the conversation between Sega’a and Kastarak can be followed more easily, and T’Aria’s tea-making instruction and the captain’s brewing abilities on trial can be followed more easily in its own subthread. If not, I’ll try fix this :) – Ric
OOC: Perfectly okay! A piece of Sega’a’s response was missed in the break, so I attached that below… in case you wanted to reply to that! :) – Trin
OOC: Thanks! Missed that cute bit! – Ric

Posted by… suppressed (6) by the Post Ghost! 👻
(Snip!)

“I would not call it ‘sadness’,” Sega’a pursed his lips, “nostalgia contains a kind of nuance that simple markers like ‘sad’ and ‘happy’ cannot quite capture. Emotions do not exist in a vacuum; they occur together in a near-perfect union. What you interpreted as ‘sadness’ was only the surface of a more profound feeling.” He hesitated in search of a concise way to define emotion without bombarding Kastarak with flowery analogies that might deepen his confusion. “I’m sure you’re well-acquainted with how sights, sounds and sensations can provoke repressed memories? When I heard the first chord of ‘Blue Skies’, it reminded me of my old friend Andreas Byrd. He loved that song dearly and sang it with a beauty that words cannot express.”

He wavered to allow Kastarak a moment to absorb his words.

For Kastarak, what Sega’a said reminded him of post-traumatic stress disorder – that a sudden trigger would cause an overbearing feeling. That sights, sounds, sensations provoked repressed memories – that was less sure for Kastarak in his own experience. From his clinical experience yes, but surely this was not psychopathological?

Creativity was never a Vulcan virtue, which probably ensured Vulcan scientific, medical and engineering progress evolving very slowly compared to, for example, Earth’s. Perhaps it was the Vulcan way of actually ignoring “irrelevant memories”. If that becomes a habit, then irrelevant memories will simply not become consciously registered as occurring. Kastarak pondered the consequence of that: Irrelevant memories are perhaps not irrevelant per se, but that they might aid in establishing patterns, or finding inspiration to solve a problem using past experiences of something quite different, though through the triggered memory, still having a similarity of sorts. Priming was never a good Vulcan cognitive skll, due to this habit of repressing what is irrelevant. Those are simply things in the ways for clarity of thought and serenity of mind.

Yet, Kastarak was intrigued. He did not utter any objection to Sega’a’s small monologue.

“When I think of his voice,” Sega’a resumed, “it takes me through all of our memories together. I experience the delight of his offer to stay aboard the Avenir with him and the frustration of my bunkmate’s chronic snoring. I recall the sheepishness of my first meeting with Captain Skahlem when he stood behind her with fingers propped in a ‘thumbs up’, or so he called it. There’s the resolution to repay his kindness with food and the slow evolution of my love for him. Everything I ever felt for or I associate with the man returned when I heard that song.”

Sega’a lips curved in a fond smile. “I miss Andreas dreadfully, but sorrow works like an anaesthetic, helping to navigate pain in healthy doses and paralysing in others. So, I needed to step back and think about him. What would he want? Andreas loathed the idea of ‘his’ song being sung without ‘oomph’. That shift you saw? It was me leaning into every other sentiment I felt for him. Delight. Mischief. Frustration. Dread. Envy. Pride. Love. Where you work to control your emotions, I let them run free because I know suppressing them will allow them to fester until I explode. Performance helps me do that. I can mould my turmoil into an art that I can share with others.” He stole a glance at the officers gathered in the mess hall, warmth filling his chest. “And that’s enough for me.”

“I’m sure I haven’t made a lick of sense,” he laughed, “but I hope that helps. I’m not an expert on emotion, I’m just one of the souls doomed to a life commanded by sentiment, but I’m happy to try and answer your questions.”

After Sega’a laughed, Kastarak paused for a few moments. He needed to unpack what Sega’a had said.

He did appreciate Sega’a’s medical metaphor of nostalgia (it was nostalgia – not sadness – that Sega’a had displayed! Kastarak made a mental note of this new knowledge) working as an anaesthetic, “helping to navigate pain in healthy doses and paralysing in others”. He chose to memorise that line, perhaps it would come in handy at a bedside conversation one day. Kastarak longed for getting better people (i.e. non-Vulcan) skills, so that he could be a better doctor in Sickbay. Though he tried to mirror Nurse Sutalo or other professionals in Sickbay, it always came out hollow and insincere when he tried doing so, and Kastarak just wanted what was best for his patients. They were not algorithms to be solved, they were his duty. There was a difference. Sutalo, he knew, had feelings for his patients. He would express frustration at treatments not going as planned, or at missed appointments, happiness with recovery and finding a new way of doing care, yet also sit and listen to – what for Kastarak appeared to be – irrelevant side stories to the history taking. He pondered the function of that, yet noticed how effective it was at establishing rapport with patients.

And by that, Kastarak noticed how his thoughts had sidelined. Why was he so unconcentrated now? He had established rapport with Sega’a, he thought, and Sega’a opened up about troubled memories, of deep and private emotions, yet Kastarak felt uneasy. He tried to understand what was going on, but failed. He made another mental note, emphasising this was something he really needed to meditate on once getting back to his quarters.

Moreover, there were emotions that Sega’a mentioned that Kastarak only had a slight understanding of. Delight, for example, was that a synonym for happiness or was it a different nuance of it? If so, what kind of nuance? How would a Vulcan even process that nuance? He knew of happiness – a basic emotion, primal, but what of delight? And what of mischief? Is that not simply causing trouble? But was it sadism, an orgasm of sorts in causing pain? No, it sounded much milder, almost playful, childish. While being able to use these words in every-day conversation, Kastarak was struck by how little he actually knew of the words themselves and what they actually conveyed. Sheepishness? The sense of being a sheep? Kastarak searched his internal memory bank of sheep. Sheep are an Earth domesticated mammal, can provide edible milk. Its hair can be clipped, and from the hair, wool, a textile, can be produced. Why would an Orion identify with an Earth animal? And how is that an emotion? In any case, this was nothing Kastarak could process at this time. He needed to get back to the conversation.

He then remembered the last thing Sega’a said, that he was doomed to a life commanded by sentiment. Suddenly, the room in which they sat felt darker and colder. He took those words seriously, with the same sense of candour he would take anything a suicidal patient, for example, would do. This was clinically heavy material.

Ngokav drummed his fingers against his linen-clad legs, distracting himself from the dread touching his forehead in a cold sweat. How long would Kastarak remain in silence? He narrowed his eyes, allowing memory to guide his rhythm, but it wasn’t enough to absolve him of concern. Had he been too forward with Kastarak? Sega’a hoped to appease his curiosity in a simple, informative way… though he sensed a tension in the man that he feared he provoked. Had he confused the doctor with his oversharing? Sega’a knew his whim for the dramatic, but he was confident he avoided hyperbole in his account. Right? He pursed his lips and reflected on his words. “Oh…” he muttered inwardly, “slime devils.”

Vulcans have good hearing, and even if Sega’a had not meant for Kastarak to hear it, Kastarak did hear it. The subtlety of what Sega’a said, however, conveyed that it was not intended for Kastarak’s reception, and Kastarak therefore decided not to comment on it. He was confused though, what did Sega’a mean? Slime devils? Is that some Orion animal? Insect? Mite? Has Sega’a been infected with some skin parasite sliming away on Sega’a’s skin? Kastarak was concerned, scanned his new friend closely, looking for signs for infection and dermatological distress. Kastarak regretted that his abilities in determining Orion skin texture was outside his clinical skills. He would prefer using his medical tricorder to aid him in a clinical assessment, but again, Sega’a had not intended for Kastarak to hear it, so it would be ethically wrong for Kastarak to comment on it. Instead, Kastarak moved on with the topic of the conversation.

“Thank you for sharing,” Kastarak said, using some platitudes he had learnt would help diffuse situations of great tensions. For Kastarak, this was indeed a conversation of much tension. He wondered how much of the tension that might be observable to others, Sega’a in particular. “Before I give you feedback on what you said, I should like to notice the last thing you said. You say you are soul doomed to live a life commanded by sentiment. That sounds like you are a prisoner to a tyrant. Is that what a life with emotions is like?”

“‘Doomed’ was a poor choice of words…” Sega’a coughed, concealing his chagrin behind an apologetic grin. “Although we may feel imprisoned at times, I assure you, we maintain our autonomy. Emotions are more like an extra sense. We navigate the world through the depth and meaning they add to our experiences. But, like any sense, they may mislead or be misled. That is when conflict arises.”

Kastarak nodded. It was interesting to hear such a candid expression on the usefulness of strong emotions. For Kastarak, whenever he had strong emotions, he too felt imprisoned, and disliked the sensation. For example, during pon farr, or when he was a child and had not yet learnt to control his emotional impulses. Yet, Sega’a helped Kastarak articulate what Kastarak had been experiencing for most of his life. When his feelings are under control, he feels an emotion, notices it, categorizes it, seeks its origin, put the emotion way before deciding how to act in the most logical, honourable or ethical manner.

“Indeed,” Kastarak said, trying to affirm what Sega’a had said. “I, too, find that emotions are like antennae for insects. They help me understand a situation. However, I cannot allow myself to immerse myself in them, like you did, when you played that song, and immersed yourself in what you called melancholia. Whenever I immerse myself in an emotion, I do not recognize myself.”

Kastarak took another sip of the tea.

“If you allow me to, metaphorically speaking, paint a picture. Imagine us standing on the quay of an empty harbour. It is high tide, and the weather is clear. There is no wind, and the day is warm. I decide to dip my toe in the water below, while you plunge in and swim in it. We both experience the water, but in different ways. Perhaps you, by virtue of your biology and the skills you have learnt throughout your life, are able to swim in the water, while I, by virtue of my biology and and the skills I have learnt throughout my life, am unable to swim, so I will drown. If you consider the sea an emotion, we both experience it. But I can only dip my toe in it, only sense it ever so slightly, and judge the water thereby. I still understand the temperature of it, its viscosity… But you can immerse yourself in it, feel it on all your sides. Sometimes, it is to me as if you you can swim in it, and in other times as if you can let yourself float on it, and trust the waves to carry you back ashore. How does this metaphor sound? I am trying to understand. I find value in discussing these matters. I find you wise, Sega’a, it is most agreeable and enriching to talk to you tonight.”

As he heard himself say the words, Kastarak noticed a slight feeling of jealousy, of being able to jump into the water and to swim. He knew too well that it was not for him to want. Like Xindi-Aquatics living their lives in the rich milieu of the depths of the sea, swimming and thriving there, Kastarak could experience a want for the same experience. But he could not immerse himself in the sea and live among the Xindi-Aquatics, he would die within minutes. Similarly, a Xindi-Aquatic would die on dry land, and yet, that is where Kastarak grew up. On dry, copper-laiden land.... His thoughts moved to his childhood home, the road along which his family lived, the sounds of the wildlife, and smells of meals being served after coming home from school.

He noticed another emotion, that of grief. He grieved his family. He recognized it, noted it, and tried to understand, but before he could rationalize over it, he felt another emotion, anger – anger that his family had been taken from him. He felt his heartbeat rising quickly, it was almost as if it was double the speed, blood rushed to his cheeks, and he wanted harm over all of those who had injured him. Yes, he felt himself injured, injured that someone had decided to kill his family, anger for never being able to see them again, commune with them, be with them.

Imagery, sounds and the telepathic shouts of agony from when the planet was destroyed flushed through Kastarak’s mind. He remembered how he and his colleague were navigating an ever changing landscape, trying to beat the black-hole-like gravity sucking the planet from within, and find refuge among the stars.

He now felt pain in his gutt. He wanted to be sick, to throw up. Surely, it wasn’t the tea? Could it be the emotional overload?

Outwardly, Kastarak did his best to appear calm, though Sega’a must have noticed something. A bronzier shade of bronze on his face? A pulse on his neck beating faster? Or perhaps Sega’a was not as perceptive. That would have been a relief.

Kastarak took a moment, shut his eyes, and tried to work through this.

“Forgive me,” he said softly, almost whispering, “I am experiencing some intense pain. I just need a few seconds to cast it aside.”

He kept closing his eyes, working hard to put the emotions aside. He could feel his body temperature rising, before the heartbeat started lowering, his breathing becoming less shallow, and he sensed how clarity came over him again. It was as if clouds on a foggy day dispersed, showing a blue sky behind. In his mind, he pictured San Francisco on a misty summer morning, getting clearer and clearer by the minute with the sun warming up the atmosphere, dispersing the mist. That was what was happening in his mind.

And it was clear again.

“There,” Kastarak sighed. “Now the pain is gone. Where were we?”

“We Vulcans use the koncept of katra for the soul, and for us, the katra is not imprisoned but something that is within us. We were once prisoners to our emotions. I don’t know how much you know of Vulcan history, but in our history, we were prisoners to our emotions, and that caused untold pain upon our people, until, of course, the destruction of Vulcan and the instant death of nearly all Vulcans in the universe.”

Kastarak realized that what he had said would probably be taken a bit different from what he had intended, and he continued,

“That said, there are some meditative techniques that can help suppress emotions, and thereby free the prisoner, so to speak, from the coommand of sentiment. Should you like, I would be agreeable to teach you some at whatever time of your convenience.”

This was Kastarak’s way of showing that maybe they could keep on meeting, one way or another. As he waited for Sega’a to respond, Kastarak realized he had not even given Sega’a any feedback on the earlier exposé that was given as a response to his question. Due to Sega’a’s fatalism, which concerned Kastarak, triggering in him his medical training, he thought this was more important to focus on, and then later, he could return to the exposé.

– Dr Kastarak (ensign)

He knew enough about Vulcan history to appreciate the conflict many endured. They were innately passionate, vibrant people with feelings that would overwhelm any Orion or human. But the violence of those emotions condemned them to a cycle of catastrophe. He could not speak to the importance of Surak and his teachings, nor the ongoing endeavour to purge what once pained them, but he could admire their persistence and grieve (in his mind) their loss. As Kastarak explained, he offered only his undivided attention - no comments nor gestures that might taint his words. When he offered to teach Sega’a meditative techniques, he couldn’t help but crack a tiny smile. Was this his shot to befriend Kastarak?

“I would like that very much,” Sega’a said. He held admittedly little knowledge about meditation and mindfulness. Though he appreciated its significance to other cultures, Sega’a always found he lacked the time or patience to try. Maybe Kastarak would be able to break through the restlessness in him. “I can always make time, so just let me know what works for you.”

— Sega’a

Despite his new-found clarity of mind, Kastarak recognized another emotion coming over him now, happiness. He was happy that Sega’a had decided to take him up on the offer. Quickly, Kastarak cast the emotion aside, but it gave him indication that he really wanted to develop a friendship with Sega’a. The question was why. Why was this important to Kastarak? He decided to meditate on it at a later stage.

“It is most agreeable to hear you say that, I will prepare some simple lessons for later this week. If you do not find it patronizing, I would recommend we begin with the kind of exercises Vulcan parents teach their children? I find that taking a child’s view on things helps us navigate difficult terrain. There is an innocence that can be used, and I trust I will not offend you by making the comparison that in Vulcan ways, you are still but a child.” Kastarak spoke softly, with consideration for Sega’a, and he meant in no way to offend him. Kastarak noticed how he almost sounded envious of Sega’a’s wisdom and innocence of mind. But Sega’a was not a child, in no other way, he was a man with much adult wisdom too – wisdom on matters where Vulcans could be seen as mere children. This was an intriguing situation. There was a high degree of asymmetry between Kastarak and Sega’a, yet they were very equal in another way. Curious, thought Kastarak

While Sega’a was off chatting with Kastarak and the Captain was making tea, Umbri quietly returned to the piano. Seeing all of these people around them brought together by music gave them hope. They decided to play a piece that expressed that hope.

(Music!)

Lt. (j.g.) Umbri Zayne, Tactical Chief

(OOC: Bumping for myself / tidying up. Replies coming soon!! - Trin)

– Ensign/Dr Kastarak

Ngokav halted to appreciate the music gracing his ears and shot Kastarak a winsome smile. “I’d ask you to dance, but…,” he glanced at his two ‘left’ feet, “why don’t we head back? It’d be a shame to let Umbri enjoy the music alone, eh?”

— Sega’a

Kastarak was initially taken aback by the suggestion. Vulcans do not dance. That was restricted to a by-gone era of decadence and emotional depravity, in the dark ages of pre-Surak times. However, a half a second later, Kastarak realized. Dance was in many other cultures an expression of community, of ritual, of commonality. In many other cultures, dance was a ritual for bonding. In others, a ritual for fertility and sexuality. It was confused Kastarak. What had Sega’a meant?

There was a sudden sense of relief of not having to approach that subject, as Sega’a had moved on.

“You are quite correct, we have been inconsiderate. I wonder if you will play something from Orion together? I am curious what Orion music might sound like”, said Kastarak as he rose from his chair and began walking back to the music.

– Ensign/Dr Kastarak

Chris came out of the kitchen with tea, coffee and snacks that he baked. He smiled while holding the tray with both hands as the music was playing and the youngish Vulcan was in deep conversation with the ships most trusted attribute., Sega’a.

Approaching the table table Chris did not want to disturb any of them so he placed the tray down on a nearby table and poured the Vulcan tea into a cup and placed it on a saucer with fresh baked traditional Vulcan snacks and treats. He walked over with a white towel draped over his arm like a colonial butler and placed the saucer in front of Kastarak and walked back to the table.

Grabbing a cup of Sega’a’s favorite drink and treat, he walked back over and placed that down in front of Sega’a and left.

Looking over at Umbri smiling, Chris didn’t know what she wanted so he made a cup of coffee, tea and Vulcan tea and put two of every treat on another saucer and walked over to her and placed them all on top of the piano. He went back to the kitchen to clean and stopped at the door to look at the assembled crew and could not help but get misty eye. “This is what it’s all about.” He whispered to himself before slowly ducking back into the kitchen.

Captain Chris Taggart CO