Posted by Gamemaster Nosferatu (Gamemaster) in NE Merriadoc Patrolling the ship
Snip

Merriadoc listened in silence, captivated by the explanation. The comparison to an orchestra painted a picture far clearer than any technical description could have. It was unlike anything he had encountered at the Academy.

For a moment, he found himself looking not at the Shiarian officer, but through the viewport towards the crystalline city beyond.

“So… your technology isn’t just something you use.”

His eyes returned to Serev.

“It’s something you grow up with. Live alongside.”

The thought lingered in his mind for several moments before he smiled.

“I think that’s why it’s difficult for us to understand.”

He rested a hand lightly against the edge of the console.

“To us, this is a machine. An extraordinarily capable one, but still a tool. We tell it what we want, it carries out the instruction, and that’s the end of the conversation.”

His fingers brushed the smooth metal casing.

“We maintain it. We improve it. But we don’t think of it as… having a voice.”

He glanced at the console before looking back to the Shiarian.

“I suppose that says as much about Humanity as it does about our computers.”

His expression became thoughtful.

“Starfleet teaches us that every new civilisation forces us to question something we thought we understood. Sometimes it’s politics, sometimes science…”

A quiet smile appeared.

”…sometimes it’s the idea that a city can sing.”

He chuckled softly at himself.

“If I’d written that in an Academy paper, my professor would’ve assumed I’d spent too much time in the holodeck.”

His smile faded into one of quiet respect.

“But standing here now…” he said, gesturing towards the glowing world outside, “…I’m beginning to think we ask the wrong question.”

He looked towards Vey’lan once more.

“We keep asking how your cities and ships communicate.”

His gaze met Serev’s silver eyes.

“When perhaps we should first ask why they were taught to.”

There was no challenge in the question, only genuine curiosity.

“If technology is part of your harmony rather than merely a tool…” he continued, “…what responsibility does that place on the people who create it?”

The young ensign paused, realising the question had grown rather larger than he’d intended.

A sheepish smile crossed his face.

“I apologise. I think I may have wandered into philosophy.”

He gave a small shrug.

“I suppose that’s your fault.”

The words were accompanied by the first genuinely relaxed grin Serev had seen from the young security officer.

“Not many first contacts end with a security ensign discussing the nature of civilisation.”

Ensign Merri Adock
Security
Uss Merrimack

Serev Kael regarded the young Starfleet officer in thoughtful silence for several moments. The corners of his mouth lifted in the faintest suggestion of a smile—not amusement, but approval.

“The questions that endure are seldom those of engineering,” he said quietly. “They are those of purpose.”

His silver eyes drifted briefly toward the crystalline expanse of Vey’lan beyond the viewport, where towers shimmered with their ever-present harmonic glow.

“When one asks only how a thing functions, one learns to reproduce it. When one asks why it exists, one begins to understand the people who created it.”

He turned back to Merriadoc. “You asked what responsibility rests upon those who create such things.”

Serev rested one hand lightly against the smooth crystalline surface beside the console. It responded with a barely perceptible change in tone, as though acknowledging his presence. “Our responsibility is balance.”

His voice remained calm, carrying the quiet certainty of someone repeating a truth learned long before his own lifetime.

“If a creation magnifies fear, then fear spreads more easily. If it magnifies anger, then anger becomes more difficult to quiet. But if it encourages understanding, cooperation, and harmony…” He inclined his head slightly. “…then those qualities also become easier to find.” He allowed the soft harmonic note to fade before continuing.

“That is why our children are taught that every invention is also an expression of character. One cannot separate the maker from the made.”

His gaze settled on the Starfleet console before them.
“Your Federation has already begun to learn this lesson. You teach your officers that knowledge must be guided by ethics, that exploration carries responsibility, and that power is restrained by principle.” Another faint smile appeared.

“We simply chose to teach the same lesson to our cities.” For the first time since they had met, Serev gave a quiet chuckle. “So no, Ensign Merriadoc. I do not believe you wandered into philosophy.”

He inclined his head respectfully. “I believe you followed curiosity to its natural destination.”

His eyes briefly returned to Vey’lan. “And if our conversation has encouraged a Starfleet security officer to ask why before how…” A warm note entered his voice. “…then perhaps today our city has sung to someone new.”

GM Nosferatu
Your Darkest Nightmare

Merriadoc stood quietly for a few moments after Serev finished speaking. The soft tone that had answered the Shiarian’s touch lingered in the air just long enough to make him wonder whether he’d really heard it or simply imagined it.

His eyes drifted once more to the crystalline city beyond the viewport.

“I think…” he began slowly, “…this may be the first time I’ve left a conversation knowing I understand less than when it started.”

A small smile followed.

“And somehow, that feels like progress.”

He let out a quiet breath, shaking his head with an expression of mild disbelief.

“When I graduated from the Academy, I thought first contact would be about learning new languages, studying unfamiliar technology, or trying not to offend anyone by accident.” His smile widened. “I wasn’t expecting it to make me reconsider what a city—or a machine—could be.”

Looking back to Serev, his expression settled into one of quiet respect.

“You said every invention is an expression of the people who create it. I think Starfleet would like to believe the same of our ships.”

His hand rested lightly on the edge of the console.

“They’re built to explore instead of conquer. To carry scientists as readily as soldiers. To answer distress calls before seeking glory.” He glanced around the corridor. “Perhaps that’s our character, made visible.”

Merriadoc looked towards the viewport one final time.

“If that’s true… then maybe one day a Federation ship and a Shiarian ship won’t just exchange greetings.” He smiled at the thought.

“They’ll recognise something of themselves in one another.”

Realising he’d allowed himself to speculate rather freely, he gave a self-conscious chuckle.

“I should probably stop before I accidentally start sounding like one of our diplomatic officers. Security has a reputation to maintain.”

The grin that followed was genuine.

“Thank you, Third Officer Kael.”

He offered a respectful nod.

“I came over here because I saw someone I didn’t recognise studying one of our computer stations.”

His smile softened.

“I’m leaving having met an officer I’d be glad to stand watch with.”

For Merriadoc, there were few compliments more sincere than that.

Ensign Merri Adok
Security
Uss Merrimack