Tuesday, March 2, 2010

[USS Charon] SD241003.02 || Joint BackLog "Charon Prison Blues" Part IV || Amb Ian Lamont, Lt Cmdr Sakarra Tyrax

[USS Charon, Brig]
 

Ian leaned back resting against the cold surface of the wall.  He was still absorbing the commander's fantastic tale which almost seemed too remarkable to be true.  For a fleeting moment he wondered if there was a book deal to be had as this story had all of the intrigue, guile, characters, and danger of a well written spy thriller.  Only this was far from fiction.

 

"Does the captain know of this", Lamont stated.  His ire for the captain could be set aside for matters carrying this level of gravity.

 

"By now, Commander Marcus should be in the process of decrypting the information with the provided matrix." The young Vulcan stated as calmly as if she were reporting the weather and not the fact she had handed a V'Shar code to an unauthorized outworlder "So if she does not yet, she will soon." 

 

"This is unbelievable."  He paused for a moment.  "While this is of little consolation Sakarra, I believe you have acted logically.  For one pledged to the fleet, the Federation, and everything your uniform stands for not to mention your bonds of heritage – I believe you acted as only a rational individual could have given the enormity of the circumstances.  This entire affair must be especially taxing on you."

 

Lamont stood and made his way to the sink where he produced a glass and filled it with warm water.  Returning he offered the glass to the Vulcan.  "It isn't spiced tea, but it is warm.  You appear to need something soothing."

 

Lamont reached out briefly to offer a comforting hand but withdrew it. No. She did not need the burden of physical contact right now. That much he could sense. He took a seat nearby and remained quiet for a time while he digested the Vulcan's story.

 

"Sakarra", he said softly after several moments.  " Why..why tell me this?  I am honored that you trust in me enough to reveal such things on a deep personal level.  It is seldom Vulcans speak about such things to non-Vulcans.  Obviously you have fallen into a hornet's nest.  Forgive the expression, it is a terran term used to describe painful trouble.

 

Is there some way I can assist?  Human platitudes and comfort will do little to solve the matters at hand.  My comments have little validity in so much as I am a simple junior diplomat and not a very good one at that. I am struggling to find some way to help a friend, but alas I am unable to arrive at a proper solution.  My incarceration also does not lend itself well to providing much assistance at the moment.

 

However, I do have several contacts on Vulcan and other individuals who could be engaged if you desire.  It might be possible to bring some measure of political pressure against those responsible for this affair. I would think others should be made aware of this given the potential repercussions at stake. However I would not dare take any action without your consent. Once this information is made public it will be nearly impossible to control. It is not my desire to bring calamity to anyone; however these individuals you have named perhaps deserve such given such flawed logic and adherence to it."

 

She had accepted the glass with a gracious tip of the head and found the warm water indeed quite pleasant. That, and the fact that the good ambassador seemed to alternate between being intrigued, trying to comfort her and ready to burst out of this cell to take whatever action he felt appropriate, sparked Sakarra's ever present gentle humor.

"Your offer of assistance is appreciated, Mr Lamont." Weary and still suffering from the aftermath of unfettered, silent rage, she nonetheless managed to present a tranquil face to the fair haired human, and for the duration of a Vulcan heartbeat her lips seemed to curl into the dawn of a smile.

 

"However, if I desired political pressure on my behalf, you may be certain one word to this extent would suffice. As for exposing their deeds on Vulcan – a public trial regarding espionage and treason should make certain of that, yes?"

Unless T'Pelar refused to press charges, which was highly unlikely.

 

"I should in fact be most distraught if you were drawn into this affair and suffered any ill effect as a result. Why I tell you this? So someone who is not involved knows, Mr Lamont. Someone with an analytical mind who can provide counsel or relay facts as needed. Oftentimes an outside perspective can be invaluable, no?"

She took a sip of the water and cast a mild glance at the ambassador, tilting her head to one side.

"Whoever may benefit from this outside perspective – I leave at your discretion of course. All I ask is that if someone asks, that you tell the truth as best you know it. Too much of this has happened in secret and nothing but entropy has resulted from it."

 

Ian nodded.  "Your trust and faith will not be misplaced.  I sincerely hope that this tr'aiyar (crime) can be dealt with.  I fear for the peace if it cannot.  No one needs another war.  There have been too many this generation already.  However it would appear all either of us can do is smoni (wait).  Fate will reveal itself in due course whatever that course may be."

 

"Fate, ambassador, is not a concept many Vulcans deem worthy of more than academic curiosity. Unless of course one considers it no more than the logical progression of events – influenced by the past and the always present element of random chance. Still, I found it interesting to learn that an ancient terran culture believed a good friend may stand between a person and his or her fate."

 

Hands still wrapped around the glass, Sakarra studied the tall human who had obviously returned to his routine of impeccable grooming, even with the limited resources available in the brig.

It was at once gratifying to see him more like 'himself' so to speak and oddly amusing. Even in his decidedly casual attire, Lamont looked as if he would be able to attend any diplomatic function at a moment's notice, and appeared oddly out of place in this cell. But then again, in the eyes of any onlooker, so would most likely the Vulcan settled on the rough carpet.   

 

Ian closed his eyes for a moment.  He felt a certain tension building like a bubble growing within the ship. He needed some time to digest what he had been told and attempt to make sense of this data. A certain frustration filled him not being able to do anything trapped within the ship's brig. He felt compelled to help Sakarra in some way, but there was nothing he could do. This matter was beyond him despite the emotional protests and anxiety within. Events would simply unfold as they should. It was logical. However as a human that didn't mean he had to like it.

 

Ian moved toward the Vulcan and sat down near her.

 

"It would seem this ship excels at finding trouble. I once regarded this assignment with disdain feeling such a mission and voyage would be devoid of worth. I now find that assumption to be in error however the excitement does take a certain mental toll. I must infer that these recent events have also been trying upon you as well Sakarra. Perhaps mediation would help us both to more clearly reflect on what has occurred and what is yet to come.

 

I..I would be most honored if you would be willing to instruct me. If you feel up to the request. If recent events have been trying then I withdraw my request and will leave you in peace so that you may rest."

 

"Ambassador, …" Sakarra was not sure whether to raise a brow, sigh or allow the tiny smile in her eyes to show on her calm features – or possibly all three.

"Trying they may have been, but you of all people should be aware that no Vulcan will deny a sincere request for aid while she is capable of rendering it. We come to serve, Ian Lamont."

He looked as if he were about to protest, but the small gesture of a hand made it clear she would not hear any such thing. Still, it was touching, to repeatedly see him display concern for her well being, often emphatically so.

 

Although it was the Vulcan way to stoically accept the fact most other beings assumed one could load any burden onto the pointy eared, silent, emotionless creatures without having to fear they would ever suffer – for how can one without feelings experience pain? - it was gratifying in ways only the same silent creatures could comprehend if every once in a while one would … bother to wonder. Wonder if there was anything in the universe that could throw those features of stone into silent, hidden turmoil and care enough to try and … look closer. And very rarely, even make the effort to shield, to take away some of the burden.

Not that any Vulcan calling herself such and capable of drawing breath would ever accept the latter, but the effort, the sentiment – it was a gift prized for both its rarity and purity of intent.

 

 

[To be continued …]

Ambassador Ian Lamont

And

Lt. Commander Sakarra Tyrax