Snack Time

Posted on Thu Sep 19th, 2024 @ 12:21pm by Ensign Mercy Mourne & Sub-Lieutenant T'Hala

Mission: Remnant
Location: Mess Hall
1948 words - 3.9 OF Standard Post Measure

T’Hala remained in her quarters attempting to meditate—rather unsuccessfully—until the rumbling of her stomach made it quite clear that no further contemplation would occur until her physical needs had been satisfied. She blew out the candle and rose from the serviceable pillow and stretched to restore adequate blood flow into her extremities. Once everything had been returned to its place, she left her quarters and made her way to the ‘mess hall,’ for sustenance.

It was late into gamma shift, so the place was empty apart from staff who maintained the dining hall. She walked over and selected some non-meat items onto a tray and brought them over to a table in the corner and sat down. She studied the alien food for a moment and pushed away nihilistic thoughts. She was not alone in this situation; there were two other non-humans—that T’Hala was aware of thus far—who had also found themselves far from home, and without their own foods, customs, etc., to boot.

She would simply learn to adapt…she was fond of apples, after all. Surely there would be other items that would be more than palatable as well…research would have to be performed. Her focus on the food before her, and the contemplation within, that T’Hala didn’t notice the new arrival to the space.

Mercy cleared her throat as she stood near the newest arrival to the ship. “Ah, forgive me for interrupting your meal, may I join you?” Mercy was, as she often was, a smiley presence. Polite and warm, it was a stark contrast to Vulcan mannerisms, and no doubt a strong reminder of the strange firman stance his new crew member found themselves in. “You are T’Hala correct? I heard you had woken, and I was hoping I would have a chance to say hello.” She goes to reach out for a handshake but then stops herself and offers the ta’al instead.

T'Hala was jarred from her inner musings, and managed to look somewhat startled before locking it back down behind the facade of emotionlessness, as she looked up to the person who was speaking with her. "I am T'Hala, yes." The woman become somewhat more interesting when she demonstrated a passable ta'al. Feeling duty-bound to respond, T'Hala stood and offered the formal hand gesture in response. "You may join me if you like. Please..." Gesturing to the empty chair across from her, she sat back down. "You are Ensign Mourne, correct? I was acquainted with a...different version of you."

Mercy gave a nod and went to take her seat, although she paused. “You were? How disconcerting for the both of us.” She said it with a light laugh, as if strange occupancies had become all too frequent in her world to slow her down. “If there is a T’Hala in this universe, I am afraid I have not met her, so you have an advantage there. Although please don’t hold an alternate version of myself against me, I am sure this version will give you reason to disapprove all on her own.” She gave the woman a cheeky smile and then shifted in her chair, trying to get comfortable. “How has it been since you woke. Have you been able to settle in somewhat?”

"You are human. Although there are many actions and methods of communication that are alien to me, It would be rather hypocritical to disapprove of your manner of expression simply because it does not align to my cultural norms. I did not know the other Mourne well, if that helps to alleviate any concerns you might have? I also recognize that in this...reality, I had not been selected to serve aboard Atlantis. Apparently that went to Lieutenant Darru." T'Hala paused and cut off a bite of her apple and brought it to her mouth to consume. It gave her a moment to consider just how to answer the last question that Mercy posed. Vulcans were private by nature, but it would serve little purpose to not answer appropriately given her surroundings.

“Months of my life are…missing, Ensign Mourne. This reality ‘feels’ wrong to me, but there is nothing I can do to alleviate the sensation. What is, is. I will have to grow used to it. I will dedicate myself to the mission of returning to known space."

“That does help alleviate a little of my worries I must admit.” Although a vain part of Mercy couldn’t help but want to ask if she was a better version of herself here or there, she also feared the answer so kept quiet about it entirely. “Ah I suppose I hadn’t considered the implication. You are quite right of course, there wouldn’t have been two Vulcans aboard the same earth star fleet ship. I suppose in a way it’s good though, at least you are not entirely alone, surrounded by only humans.”

Mercy then gave the woman a sympathetic smile. “And for what it is worth, many of us feel we have had something taken from us. But you are right there too, there are things we can change and things we can’t, so best to focus our efforts where they will bear fruit, as my grandmother used to say. Still, is there anything we can do to help you adjust? I have been looking into Vulcan customs and culture recently so would be happy to know of anything that would make you more comfortable.”

"I grieve with thee." The empathetic words were said with a focused intensity that spoke of complete honesty. The Atlantis crew had all suffered loss. She understood. Pausing a moment, T'Hala looked down to her apple considering the rest of what Mercy said.

"I believe it may be more appropriate that I become familiar with Human customs and culture, Ensign. Logical even."

Mercy considered the Vulcan with an almost unnerving sincerity. Then she gives the Vulcan woman a warm smile. “Sure, you can do that. And I suppose it is logical considering there are so many humans aboard and only two Vulcans, but it need not be either or. Why not both? It’s just as important to me that you are made to feel comfortable aboard. Besides, Da- I mean Lieutenant Darru is so good at adapting but I would still like to learn. If you would be happy teaching me that is. We could consider it a cultural exchange if you like?” Mercy had at least learnt that sometimes, setting project boundaries around tasks sometimes helped Vulcans. She had rightly or wrongly assumed that measurable outcomes satisfied logic more than whim.

“We can start with this, is there anything you would like to know that I might be able to tell you? And if I don’t know the answer I can probably point you in the right direction.”

T'Hala opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Closing her mouth again, she pointedly ignored the feeling of self-consciousness. She had also caught how Mercy stopped before saying Lieutenant Darru's name in a familiar manner. That coupled with the human female's newfound desire to learn more about Vulcan cultural and societal norms spoke of what, exactly...fascination? Desire, even? No. Enough. More data was required in order to adequately postulate.

"A cultural exchange would be logical, and your points are valid. It is fortunate that there is another of my species aboard, however we are from different regions. Vulcan culture is not as homogeneous as one might think. Family, clan, caste...such things define where we 'fit' within the world, to utilize human phrasing."

That gave her an idea. Humans were far more social than Vulcans. Where Vulcans valued privacy, most humans she had met wanted to tell her things about themselves...to foster a connection, perhaps? "Humans share data about themselves with others to form connections with each other, yes? I am willing to...to try."

Mercy did her best to hold back a laugh. She could see the woman was trying to be accommodating, but T'Hala was just being so logical about it, it was rather endearing. "Oh really? I didn't realise there were regional variations to Vulcan culture. See already I'm learning something." She then gave the woman a gracious smile. "Sure we tend to share stuff to get to know each other. It serves a number of different functions, the primary one being it helps us understand each other's points of view, and thus creates and maintains social bonds. It also helps us navigate future conflicts and build trust. I am happy to answer any questions you might have, but you don't need to share anything if it makes you uncomfortable T'Hala. How do Vulcan's build social bonds and make friends? Maybe we can try that too?"

"Bonds are built through...affinity and close contact to one another." It seemed to be the simplest way to explain the word in a manner a human would understand. "The strongest of bonds therefore often are with one's immediate family or mate. Regarding friendship...that word does not translate well into Vulkhansu." Normally she would have stopped her explanation at this point, as to offer up any further information would be to encroach upon privacy, but that strategy would move counter to her previous words to Mercy. "We do not have 'friends' in the same manner humans do. That level of closeness risks attachments that are not easily disentangled, and with the resurfacing of the Kirshara, Surak's teachings apparently had included the practice of...specific physical touch for the purpose of creating, fostering, and strengthening such connections. Such a thing, previous to this recent discovery, was considered quite...taboo. As our collective worlds have condensed down to what lies within the hull of this ship, it is only logical that some...compromises would be required."

Mercy listened, clearly entirely focused on T’Hala’s words. Part way through something seems to slot into place in the human’s mind, clarity caused her eyes to widen and her lips to thin ever so slightly before she offered a kind smile. “Ah I see, thank you for your explanation. While I would be happy to call you a friend compromise should be a meeting in the middle. Perhaps we can begin with become colleagues who simply make an effort to get to know each other’s ways. If you have any questions about our strange human behaviours all you need do is ask. Would that be… acceptable to you?” Mercy stumbled towards the end of her sentence, trying to search for a suitably neutral word, a small accommodation she tried to offer up to the Vulcan before her.

"Yes. Most acceptable." The Vulcan woman dipped her chin slightly in a gesture of agreement. She did so want to build connections between herself and her crewmates, but understood that such things could not be forced nor rushed. T'Hala knew she spoke of things that were of a distinctively Vulcan construct, and therefore were difficult to effectively translate. A slight misstep perhaps, but a needed one. It was logical. T'Hala did not have the luxury to remain apart. All things considered thus far, Ensign Mercy Mourne had been proving herself a most gracious individual. Her attempt to understand and reciprocate was...appreciated.

“Okay great, well it was nice meeting you. Good luck settling in.”Mercy gave the woman a smile and then got up. With one last bob of her head she gave the woman a slightly awkward wave and then headed off to her shift.