Posted by Ensign Kastarak (Doctor / Counsellor) in Risa - Trust Me, I’m a Chef (Tag Kastarak, Serral)

Posted by Lieutenant Commander T’Aria (XO / Navigation Officer) in Risa - Trust Me, I’m a Chef (Tag Kastarak, Serral)

Posted by Ensign Kastarak (Doctor / Counsellor) in Risa - Trust Me, I’m a Chef (Tag Kastarak, Serral)
Posted by… suppressed (10) by the Post Ghost! 👻
(Snip!)

Serral was still checking into the hotel at the time… only to be told his room was not yet clean and there was additional time before he could check in. With him was his PaDD, he couldn’t bring his actual work, but at least he could work off his PaDD. Between sitting in the hotel lobby and going to the beach, going to the beach was marginally preferable. So outside he went, picked a place on the shore, and sat down.

He did not seem to notice the party set-up as he tried to shield the PaDD from the sun, the light making it difficult to see the screen. How long did he have to be out here…? The time was not going by quickly enough.

~ Serral

The next day, Kastarak had arrived early to the beach, he realized. He had a few more minutes before the appointed time. He saw someone, who from the distance looked Vulcan, and Kastarak thought that perhaps that person was Vulcan. There were too few of them left in the galaxy, and any kind of affinity would be good.

Kastarak went up to the presumed Vulcan and noticed as he got closer that perhaps he was not correct in his assessment. Was this man sitting two metres from him Vulcan? Maybe Romulan? Or some Vulcan-looking species he had not heard of?

He decided that the man looked Vulcan enough to warrant a greeting. But should he really say hello? What if he was invading the man’s privacy? And what would he say? But Kastarak at the same time longed for some Vulcan solidarity – a shared Vulcanness and understanding of the loss they have gone through and are going through.

Despite Serral’s split heritage, it was a loss he felt deeply. He had been lucky he was not on the planet at the time of its loss… visiting his father’s family on Betazed at the time, by chance.

He paced around the sunbed. He looked at the time. Five more minutes. He had no peace to meditate now. While lying didn’t come natural to Vulcans, a lie now would be the most logical way to find a way to interact and bring about a conversation with the Vulcan in front of him.

He took a deep breath, walked up to the Vulcan-looking man sitting on the shore, and said, “Peace and long live,” and made the appropriate V-shaped hand gesture too. Better cover all Vulcan bases now. “Forgive my disruption – do you know where the closest hotel is? I have an appointment there and I have lost my way.”

– Sneaky Kastarak

Serral could sense Kastarak in a Betazoid sort of way, because Vulcans and Betazoids were both telepathic species (though in different ways) Serral’s empathic abilities weren’t much weaker than a full blooded Betazoid. “Peace and long life,” He replied, returning the V-shaped hand gesture originating on their lost home planet. “The closest hotel?” He glanced up the beach as if it were obvious, it was visible from where Serral had chosen to sit. “That one. That’s where I’ve checked in.” There was not emotion in his voice, he was a follower of Vulcan logic. “It seemed… rude to sit inside all day, but the sun is making it rather difficult to read a PaDD.” He commented.

~ Serral

Kastarak noticed a fleeting sensation in his gut, a lightness. He made no outward indication of it, but perhaps Serral, with his unique biology and sensory abilities, would have picked up on it. Kastarak interpreted Serral’s by-line as an invitation to continue talking.

It was not missed by Serral, but nor was it reacted to. Serral had grown used to the interesting balance between Vulcan logic and Betazoid empathy a long time ago. Most others’ emotions he didn’t react to. Vulcans’ were particularly easy, because they faded quickly.

(OOC: Interesting!)

“Thank you, I now know the direction, I will manage.” he said, flatly and politely. He was still not sure whether the man in front of him was Vulcan, part Vulcan or totally non-Vulcan. He didn’t know whether to ask, and if asking, how he would do it. There was no logical reason to seek the connection, yet, Kastarak sought it.

“Rude, you say? But to whom?”

“The crew, I suppose. Don’t most people enjoy beaches?” Serral replied.

Was this a rhetorical question? And what is it about beaches that are enjoyable? Kastarak knew that people enjoyed beaches, but what was it they enjoyed? The open air? No impediment for wind and sunshine?

Kastarak did “like” the open breeze, the way he could see far to the horizon, the way the waves hit the beach. But he did not like the sand. It was coarse and rough, and it irritated his skin and got everywhere (like in his shoes, which was particularly uncomfortable).

Kastarak decided on the question being rhetorical, and simply nodded. He did not want to entertain that line of conversation. Smalltalk was not his thing.

He noticed the Starfleet-issued PADD in Serral’s hand, and asked, “Forgive my intrusion, I see you have a Starfleet-issued PADD. Where do you serve? I serve on the Chernov, it’s undergoing repairs here on Risa right now.”

Serral glanced up at the mention of the ship. “Perhaps I should have introduced myself properly. Junior Lieutenant Echei, Science department on the USS Chernov. And you?” He was new to the ship, he didn’t expect everyone to know him. He wasn’t offended he wasn’t recognized by Kastarak

A colleague! Kastarak felt a jump – like that lightness earlier but stronger and faster – inside of him. What did that jump mean? In any case, he purged that emotion (if it was an emotion).

“Then we are colleagues,” he said and added, “sir”, as, apparently Echei ranked higher than him. “I am ensign Kastarak, junior medical officer – physician and counsellor in training. I expect we might collaborate on analyses in the future. I regret I did not recognise you.”

Serral nodded. “We haven’t met. It’s no problem.” Then Serral raised an eyebrow. “Counsellor in training?” An odd choice in career if one asked Serral. Sure, he was Betazoid - an emotionally open people who put emphasis on mental health. But he was raised on Vulcan, a culture that saw little need for a doctor for your emotions. There were Vulcans counsellors, of course, but they were… well, logical.

Kastarak noticed the skepticism. “Indeed,” he said, “we Vulcans all share in an indescribable trauma,” he said, hoping that Serral would take the hint to explain whether or not he shared in it, and thus explain also whether or not he was Vulcan. But why was it so important?

There was a slight emotional response to the words, Serral averted his gaze from Kastarak and studied the ground instead. He’d lost family in the ‘indescribable trauma’. “We do.”

“We do…” Kastarak repeated with eye contact. “I understand”.

Kastarak made a mental note of it: this was something he needed to meditate on. Perhaps periods of recreation required more meditation that periods of routine and work. That would make sense, he thought. Structure aids logic. Unstructured time invites chaos in.

Holiday was clearly not his thing. Neither was smalltalk.

Why was Kastarak nervous? Was it because he could not determine whether the man was Vulcan or not? Why was it so important for Kastarak to know the species of the man in front of him? He did understand the emotional need for connection, for solidarity, but if the man was not Vulcan, yet why would it be important? Most species have highly attuned skills of empathy, so, logically empathy and solidarity could be found everywhere.

It frustrated him – for a second, before purging the emotion, attempting to reach serenity. He failed. No serenity. Just slightly less giddy.

– Kastarak

Serral was used to the way some people looked at him. It was quite unusual, both because after the destruction of Vulcan, Vulcans had become much less common and because the union of a Vulcan and a Betazoid was not a common one. Serral did not pick up on all of Kastarak’s emotional struggles but it was clear to the half-Betazoid that he was more emotional than was typical for a Vulcan just then. It wasn’t a bad thing, merely an observation. “I don’t bite.”

~ Serral

I don’t bite? What did Lieutenant Echei mean? Why did he say that? Why would he bite? He was no Gorn? There was something very Vulcan over him, but yet, his demeanour was not, but yet it was?

Kastarak was confused. He needed clarification.

“Why did you say ‘I don’t bite’? I do not understand its meaning.”

– Kastarak

Serral gave a quick, soft sigh. “I sense your nervousness.” It was a human saying, really, I don’t bite. But actually, he’d learned it on Betazed. He didn’t always tell people he could sense their emotions. That he was telepathic, but made a point to not read other’s thoughts. Some recognized his heritage, could guess those talents, but not exactly how strongly he had them, or how well he could use them. Kastarak… obviously wasn’t familiar with Betazoids. Which was fine. Sometimes Serral preferred it that way. “I seem to confuse you in some way.”

~ Lt JG Echei, Sci

“It is illogical to be nervous around you, you are a colleague,” replied Kastarak in an almost rehearsed way. “I have never seen anyone with your appearance, perhaps that is why you consider me confused.”

“Vulcans aren’t immune to illogical things. I’d hope a counsellor in training is aware of that.” Serral countered, watching Kastarak. “My appearance is unique, sometimes weird, not usually confusing.”

“Indeed,” said Kastarak, with a full stop. Now was not the time to continue the line of interrogation of Serral’s genetics. At the very least, Kastarak understood they shared the trauma. There was something poignant about it. He decided to leave it at that.

It was a failing for Kastarak to appear confused and nervous; thus lying now would be more logical. He needed to appear calm and logical and counsellor-y around this new colleague. How else would he be able to command any kind of authority?

He was hoping that Sega would save him now from this smalltalk and take him away from Serral.

– Kastarak

Sega’a leaned against a palm-esque ‘tree’, seeking shade in its fronds, and consulted his watch. Where was Kastarak? He peered around the trunk and scanned the beach for any sign of the dark-haired, pointy-eared doctor he called his friend. It was no use. Sega’a couldn’t see more than faint outlines that looked almost glow-y against the setting sun. He peeled himself from his shady spot and decided to have a look around.

Surely, Kastarak couldn’t be that far away?

Sega’a weaved through the beach towels and picnic baskets (and plenty of sun-drunk tourists) until he spotted a man who looked like Kastarak… except the hair. He halted and craned his neck slightly, narrowing his eyes to get a better look. What happened to the bowl cut? He liked that bowl cut because it always reminded him of Kastarak when he saw it on others. His grief lasted only a second. Sega’a adjusted his stance and approached the pair, his arms outstretched in a kind of ‘I’m here!’ that matched his smile.

“Kastarak!” He lifted his voice when he was close enough and hastened his pace until he wavered only a meter or so from Kastarak and whoever the good gentleman beside him was, “…and friend?”

— Sega’a

When seeing Sega’a, Kastarak felt a sense of relief in his gut. He quickly purged the feeling to be at a serene state when welcoming his friend. “It is agreeable to meet you.”

Ngokav met Kastarak’s welcome with an eye-crinkling grin that said more than any boring ‘hello’ he could muster. “It’s good to see you too.”

Warmth came over Kastarak’s gutt as he saw Sega’a’s smile. Kastarak quickly purged it, but not before noticing it and qualitatively rating it: Sega’a was a significant person in Kastarak’s concept of self-identity.

“Junior Lieutenant Echei.” He’d forgotten that part of joining a new ship. Having to say his name, introduce himself to every person he encountered. He glanced at Kastarak. “Not friend. Just met.” He glanced between them. “You know each other. You’re also from the ship the Chernov?“

~ Lt JG Echei, Sci

Sega’a did not recall seeing the name ‘Echei’ on the ship’s roster when he last checked (which happened to be for some notification that he’d since forgotten). Was he new? Sega’a gathered by Echei’s question that this must be the case. His excitement bubbled in his belly to the point it was almost nauseating. He wanted to reach out and welcome Echei to the ship in the most Sega’a way imaginable (though what that entailed was largely unknown and prone to change), but Kastarak spared him the potential embarrassment…

“You are correct in your assessment,” said Kastarak dryly, adding, “on both points.”

Kastarak held out his right arm in the direction of Sega’a, and turned his face to Serral.

“Mr Echei, this is Crewman Ngokav Sega’a, he and I are friends from the Chernov”, Kastarak continued.

– Ensign Kastarak (doctor / counsellor)

“Nice to meet you, Mr Echei.” He refrained from offering a hand. “I work mostly in the galley, so feel free to stop by if you’re ever craving real food. I’d be happy to whip something up for you.”

Then, an idea crept into his thoughts. It was half-baked and probably a little ill-advised, but that’s what made it fun. At least… for him.

“Now that we’ve properly met…” Sega’a cleared his throat to distract from the playfulness in his eyes, “are you two ready to party?”

– Sega’a

Kastarak noticed a feeling of a tiny punch in his gut – why did Sega’a have to do that? Kastarak had expected that only those who were close to Sega’a and his child would be the ones invited. What would otherwise be the significant of it? Sega’a had written that he would enjoy [Kastarak’s] company. But how did he know that he would enjoy Mr Echei’s company? This half-Vulcan?

Kastarak was conflicted. He noticed the emotional reaction within him. He felt relief that his face gave no indication of it, but within him he tried to name what he sensed: Jealousy? Rejection? But why would that be important? Perhaps, if he let the events follow, and attend the party, with a serene state of mind, he could understand their significance. It would be logical. Moreover, Sega’a was the host, and it was the host’s prerogative – in most cultures any way – to decide who would be invited or not to a functioning, within the bounds of culture.

There was another flash of emotion from Kastarak. Serral could sense Sega’a as well, excited and playful for this ‘party’ that was apparently coming up. But Serral found Kastarak’s more interesting, though Serral tried not to ‘look’, so to speak. He didn’t much have a choice in that matter. Was Serral unwelcome? He couldn’t tell. He refocused himself, his own way of purging himself as emotions.

As such, Kastarak purged any remnant of emotion, took a deep breath, and sensed clarity and serenity. The sun was still shining, he felt the solar radiation warming up his cheek. The dry warmth and heat on the beach, along with the slight breeze from the sea, reminded Kastarak of his childhood close to the sea…

“Ready to party?” asked Kastarak. “I assume that is a rhetorical question. Vulcans do not party, as you know. I will honour you and the person of honour of this functioning, by attending – as is expected by my acceptance to your invitation. I do not renege on my commitments.”

– Kastarak

“Ready to party?” Serral echoed Kastarak’s question. “What is the reason for this event? Am I expected to attend?” As a Vulcan, Kastarak’s statement applied to him, he did not party. If he had to go, he would attend the event out of politeness. But he was so new, he wouldn’t know anyone there.

~ Serral