Star Trek: Starbase 777

Down from the seating area was a a vast stretch of sand which became wetter the closer to the water it got. The tide was currently out so there was lots of room. A stand was manned by a Bolian vendor where you could rent out surfboards, hoverboards, and the same types of floater/jetpack systems used on Risa. Dotting the sands were sandcastles and sculptures of different shapes and sizes, including a giant triconipus that seemed to be defying gravity by the fact it was managing to stay upright.

Having left his books beneath an umbrella he’d procured, Luno darted over the sand, in search of seashells or other neat little treasures that the beach could have been hiding. Maybe he would try out some of the more extreme activities later, but right now, xe was locked into xyr own personal scavenger hunt.

Sorel looked around the sandy area and noticed a towel under an umbrella. It was vacant though so she took her own beach towel(round with the print making it look like a lemon) and sat down, observing a person, who she presumed to be the owner of the first towel, look around the sandy beach, probably looking for someting like seashells

With an excited whoop, he pulled a spiral shell out from where it had been halfway buried, holding it above his head and flinging some sand out in front of him. “Gods, I need to save this to replicate later…” He muttered to himself, moving back to his towel, before spotting the newcomer.

Dakkil was, of course, eventually bound for the ocean, but it thought it would stop and chat with the beachgoers first. "Oh, shit, nice shell," it said as it approached Luno, nodding appreciatively. It kneeled, the sand pleasantly warm on its skin, and it sifted through the grains with its fingers, revealing an almost fully intact sand dollar. "Woah," it picked it up, turning it in its hands.

“Oh! Thank you!!” He lit up, moving to stand near the two of them, “I’m hoping to take a digital copy of it so I can replicate it later, for display. I really do love how the holodeck programs do these.” Xe blinked, watching it kneel, before squatting down beside, eyes on its hands as it sorted through the sand below. “Perfect specimen!”

Abby layed out her beach towel and sat down, cracking open a good novel she'd been wanting to get to.

Dakkil watched as several people headed for the ocean. It glanced towards the waves, considering for a moment, then handed Luno the sand dollar. "Here, you can have this one too. I'm gonna go see how the water feels," it grinned. "Catch you later!" it added as it jogged towards the shallow end of the water.

“Oh— wow, thank you!” He blinked, holding the sand dollar as if it were something priceless— to be fair, xe thought it was— before waving at it as it left. Xe moved over to xyr towel, placing the shells gingerly on top and taking a seat next to them, shooting Sorel a smile.

Sorel watched on slightly annoyed but also curious as more people appeared. She caught a glimpse of someone giving the first person some kind of shell.. no a sand dollar probably. The person did turn out to be the owner of the first towel, just as she thought, because they came over and sat down on top before smiling at her. She considered pretending she wasn't observing them, (or anyone else for that matter!) but it would have been kind of rude to do that so she settled on giving a small nod of greeting.

“You like shells?” He grinned, holding out the sand dollar and spiral shell quite proudly, “I mean— everyone kinda likes them, but are you interested in them? I’ve been looking for them along the shore, and I think having someone else to come with me would make it more fun.”

Abby took a deep breath, finally settling into her book. The sounds around her faded into comfortable background noise as she engrossed herself. (edited)

, Fresh from the edge of the waters, Abdelaziz carried a bucket of holographic water in his hand while his other hand held the tiny leash connecting him and his fair ferret. Tiny, chaotic footsteps littered besides the doctor's as Cantaloupe pranced around in the soft and squishy part of the sand in the same manner of a cat arching its back and hopping around. She pranced, she twirled, she tried to run around in circles and made the doctor gently turn with her as to not get tangled in the little rope. Abdelaziz moved far enough away from the tides to be safe, but not too far as to keep the little lady entertained. Carefully, he sat down in a good spot for building castles and clipped the leash to himself so that Cantaloupe could not wander too far from him. The surgeon gently poked at the sand, as if he thought about where to put the castles, or what exactly he should build.

"They say Remans are naturally ill-suited to sunlight, due to the orientation of our home planet to the sun," Tal started, the voice of Ximek in his ear proclaiming the injustice of that statement, how this was a sentiment used to justify confining Remans to households and dilithium mines. And indeed, Tal had always been uniquely suited to the daytime, standing out less than at night and his limited vision at its most accurate. But there was a kernel of truth in it, too, the way Reman skin was more likely to burn sooner, the way a lifetime of darkness could lead to squinting against the light of day. Tal, more than anyone, was painfully aware of how true these things could be. The warmth felt great on his skin, on his face. It was easier, like this, to take in the features of Tarsek's face: still limited, but the dark shape of his hair could be separated from the face, the eyes and the shadow of the nose providing structure that Tal had missed before. If he hadn't known that Vulcans were sensitive to it, he might have been tempted to ask to touch, to map his features with his fingertips just to sate a curiosity. "But like this, I can't deny it's rather nice."

”With the dutiful precautions, people should not forgo experiencing new things, even if they would be “unnatural”, though I must say I do not agree with the use of this adjective, or rather previously inaccessible.“ Unnatural or natural, were ill-suited to describe the complex behaviors of most sentient species that could use technology and science to their better adaptation. “I was born in the desert, I am no stranger to sand.” The fine grains that could challenge one’s balance if they were not careful, and Tarsek was mindful enough to pay attention on his companion, least Tal-terrh lost his footing by acident. He would alternate between watching him and looking over to the waves gently washing far from them. “The sight of water so close to it, however, I only experienced far in my thirties. I found it very aesthetically pleasing.”

"I wouldn't know." The statement was without pointedness or sorrow, simply presented as casual fact. It wasn't that Tal-terrh was convinced something that could not be experienced could not be missed, but rather he didn't know what he should be missing in the first place: he had never had sight, after all. A long time ago, his sister might have tried to share her vision with him, or he would have plucked visions from the heads of strangers, but even these things were more akin to dreaming. He had made peace with the fact that he could not see, not enough to count as vision. "I have heard that the desert carries its own sort of mirage, an approximation of water when the air near the sand gets so hot it distorts one's vision. Is it not similar?" Tal had never been in a desert, either.

”You are correct, this effect does indeed exist. It can be similar to bodies of water, those were extremely rare in my region, and all of them are still. My province is bathed by no ocean or waves, therefore no, it is not similar.” It was only due to the advances of technology that the Xial province became an agricultural territory, something that would have been impossible to his oldest ancestors, unnatural. In a sense, his own home only served to further support his point of view. “You may not be able to visualize it as I do, but still we seem to agree that the experience is pleasing, each in our own way.” But there were far too many other things they could experience in a similar fashion. “Not only the sight stood out for me, but the sound. The desert is quiet. Not enough foliage for the breeze to move, most animals remain hidden when it is too hot. It can be a most peaceful place. The sea, however, is loud, but the rhythmic waves I have not found to be disturbing.”

Tal had always had sensitive ears, even compared to his sister. He couldn't hear the sea so loudly now in this holoprogram, though he could hear it faintly in the distance, but if another vulcanoid said it was normally loud, he wondered what that would be like. "I grew up surrounded by trees. The convent was remote, not unreachable but certainly not accessible, either. There was forest on all sides, and the wind was never still. When I moved to a ship, it was similarly never quiet, since there is always electricity moving somewhere." And even if it was, on occasion, quiet, Tal had never been alone enough to feel it, thoughts shared freely between family in a way that wasn't easy to replicate in the Federation. "I lived planetside on a few more occasions, but either in forests..." he swallowed against the painful memory of how that ended, "or in the city, on Mol'Rihan.*

Tarsek provided his full attention on the other’s words. The differences between them did not go unnoticed and it seemed the list had a tendency to grow. A child of the forest and a child of the desert. He briefly wondered if Tal-terrh had had the opportunity to see other biomes and then the next words answered the unspoken question. “Never on a desert then, I assume. My time in Starfleet has provided me with the opportunity to see many planets and biomes, and I cannot avoid comparing them to the dunes and the mountains of my home.” A place he had not returned to in decades. He could have left it, but it would not leave him, it seemed.

"I have travelled much and yet experienced little," Tal-terrh admitted. There were a great many things he had done, of course, but when speaking of the biomes they'd visited and the things they had done, Tal felt that his life was much more limited. He had varied reasons for avoiding certain places, certain peoples, much more so than Tarsek would, but had apparently not done much to make up the difference. He wondered what it was that was binding the two of them together. As they walked along the sand, basking in this artificial sunlight, warmed and cradled by it, Tal knew that if he were to collect their differences like bricks, he could build a tower out of them. And yet, they were here together, conversing, apparently fine with the exchange of information despite the lack of overlap. What was it that, in their varied lives, had made them similar enough to stay here, despite their differences? "Comparison is the thief of joy, I have heard," he said simply, avoiding thinking about the many homes he had all cherished for different reasons, and lost in varied ways.

Being the man of logic he was, Tarsek would not pass up on what he interpreted to be an offer for a more in-depth discussion over the topic. It was a common practice among Vulcans, the debate provided for intellectual stimulation and would, in turn, teach him more about another and how their mind worked. Useful when considering to include someone in his circle. ”A rather emotional saying. Comparison is to be expected when meeting something new, to acknowledge the novelty we must compare with what we already know, to get to know it we must catalog.” He looked back at Tal-terrh. “Differences are simply differences. We are the ones who choose to apply or detract value, and the result would depend on the scale one would choose to adopt. I do not agree with the saying.” He revealed. “Comparison is not the thief of joy, but judgement can be. It all depends on whether you find value in the differences or not and to some the emotional attachment of familiarity weights heavier than anything else.”

Having since put his shells onto his towel and gone on to keep searching for more, Luno had found his focus shifting away from his surroundings, until he tripped over the legs of someone reclining nearby. “Oh— so, so sorry!” Xe stammered, picking xyrself up and waving xyr hands in front of xem.

Abby was enjoying her time reading away. She'd been wanting to get around to Frankenstein for forever. Until, eventually stepped by and tripped over her. "Oop!" She squealed. As the stranger began to apologize, she made her own. "Oh, oh, no, I'm sorry."

“All good, all good!” He giggled, gathering himself up, “I wasn’t watching what I was doing. That’s on me.” He squatted in the sand, standing in the way of the sun, “Oooh, Frankenstein, huh? Y’know, the author, after her husband died, kept his heart in a drawer. And the book itself was inspired by a writing competition she had with Lord Byron, a literary rock star at the time.”

~~Sorel blankly looked forward with the mortification of someone who just fumbled in a conversation so badly that the other person just left.~~

Abby brushed off her legs, while listening to Luno's fun fact. "Wh-- a drawer? His heart?"

“Yep! After his death! A lot of people called her, like… the mother of gothic sci-fi, and I can see why.” He shrugged, “You liking the book so far?”

Abby blinked. She inched her feet further from the sand, curling them inward. "It's... well, it's long. Wordy." She shrugged. "Haven't had much reading time. Not used to it."

“Yeah, downtime is strange to get used to!” Xe sighed, moving to plop cross-legged on the sand nearby, “What are your hobbies, usually, when you’re not reading on the beach? Personally, I’m a maps and geography kind of guy, but maybe I just don’t get out enough.”

"Err... whoof.." Abby sighed, patting her leg, in thought. She really hadn't put much thought into it since coming to the future. "Well, I use the holodeck a bit."

“Oh, what kind of programs do you like?” He grinned, leaning a little closer from where he sat, “Are you a historical programs kind of person? Or fiction? There’s a lot of cool holonovels in the database, I imagine it’d keep a person busy for a while.”

Tal took in Tarsek's words. He supposed that in a way it had been silly of him to mention joy to a Vulcan, since they eliminated such feelings from their experience to the best of their ability. Briefly, he wondered if it would make him happier, too, in the long run, or at least more satisfied in his life, should he purge himself of all emotion. Sorrow and grief and fear could become foreign to him, if he did. "Would it not be possible to know and catalogue without comparing? One's muscle memory and past experiences can serve as the principles underlying the way we choose to undertake new actions, but would treating everything new with the unfettered wonder of a novel adventure not encourage eliminating the expectation that comparison breeds?" Expectations were hard to let go of, Tal knew from experience. But after so many years of loss interspersed with periods of happiness only to once more be met with loss, he had learned to take things as they came, for better or for worse. The only expectation he had was that there was nothing he wouldn't also eventually have to let go of.

”There is comparison without judgement or expectation.“ He could see what Tal-terrh proposed, and got to the conclusion that they both agreed to the fundamentals: expectation, pre judgement, could be detrimental to one’s experience of the world. What separated their thoughts right now, was a matter of semantics. “If I say that you are of fairer skin than I, which is a fact, I am not passing a judgement but merely making a statement. If I say the blue sky of this simulation differs from the red one of my home, I am not passing judgement either. What many people do, however, is apply or detract value often based on familiarity or illogical personal bias. Judgement would be me saying the sky of my home is better than this one because it is red or that you are less aesthetically pleasing for this physical difference, both are incorrect.” Tarsek looked back at the other man. Yes, that previous hypothetical statement was far from correct. “Acknowledging differences does not detract from wonder necessarily. In fact, I am aware of several individuals whose wonder is moved by encountering that which is ‘alien’.”

Abby perked up. This was actually something she could talk about with him. "Oh, historical. I like early 21st century." She told xem.

It made sense. Tarsek was operating a separate definition of comparison than Tal himself, a gentler and more kind definition that allowed him to compare without imparting judgement. "Is that IDIC, then?" he asked, before his brain could catch up to his mouth. "The acknowledgement and celebration of differences between oneself and others, and distinctions between others amongst each other. To see the differences and relish them, because their existence makes us able to experience things anew." Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations had always seemed, to Tal, not just a foregone conclusion but a strange mantra. As someone intimately familiar with the minds of others, he knew no two people could ever be the same, and how could you pretend they were? Perhaps form sighted people, able to distinguish the world at a glance, it was more difficult to make the distinctions, a consideration he had made many a time but had failed to get evaluated by someone of the correct life experience. Now though, through Tarsek's words, he felt he could perhaps come closer to understanding. He wasn't sure if it was because the man sounded so certain of his convictions, or if the way he explained it was simply better than any of the other words he had taken in before, but he felt that if Tarsek were to explain it to him, he could likely understand anything.

Tarsek tilted his head by a millidegree. So Tal-terrh had knowledge about that particular philosophy, which was a welcomed surprise and made the possibilities for this conversation branch, much like a mirror of the subject itself. “Indeed. That is well put. There will always be differences and only in understanding them we can provide each other what we need and coexist in middle ground.” And such had been his duty ever since becoming a teacher, even if he had not previously acknowledged the influence of the ideal in his class manners or his constant pursuit in embodying it. It had been later, after deep meditation during his second SFA year, that he had realized the origin of the direction he was headed to and the path to better reach it. When he had finally made the decision to leave Science and join Command.

“Oooh, that’s a good era! There’s a really fun one where it’s a musical from, um… 2014, I think. I’m a bit of a theatre guy, though, so I may be a little biased.” He chuckled at himself, “Any recommendations?”

"Hmm." Tal let out a noise of contemplation; a melodic little note, though he had never been a singer. "Is it your opinion then, that all differences are reconcilable?" He glanced up at Tarsek then, his eyes wandering once more across the shadows and contours of the Vulcan's form. He took a breath, then looked away, taking in the shapes and shades of the people currently in the holodeck. "Please do not interpret the question as hostility or judgement. I am simply curious as to your thoughts." Tal had known a great many people in his life, many of whom he had killed for the specific way their ideology differed from his own: specifically, they would typically seek to exterminate dissenting thought, and he would seek to exterminate danger. He would not admit this to Tarsek. Vulcans were a peaceful people, this he knew, and though in both of their worlds the needs of the many came before the needs of the few, Tal-terrh was not a peaceful man. Even sedentary as he was now, no longer wandering and instead trapped by fear and grief in a nation where nobody walked with weapons drawn, he could not promise he would not kill again.

Tal-terrh’s justification had arrived before Tarsek started to answer. It was curious that the man worried the Vulcan might assume hostility. ”That is a complex question… and worry not, to be offended by a query would be illogical.” Even if the other ever tried to do so, it would have been extremely hard to get a reaction of any sort. “The simplest answer would be that as a diplomat, it should be a core belief to me that yes, somehow, all differences should have a way to be reconcilable. However…” And that was when things got a bit paradoxical. “For that, both parties need to wish for coexistence. You cannot accommodate those who are intolerant against your existence, your own tolerance must have a limit, otherwise you would be acting against your own personhood, which is illogical in itself. You cannot make space in your life for those who would wish you harm. Despite being peaceful, my culture is not defenseless and would not stand down if another tried to harm us.” Yes, Vulcans were peaceful because logic pointed them towards peace and because peace had been possible through logic. They had nearly annihilated themselves with their own volatility and had it not been by Surak all that they were and have ever been would have ceased to exist. “It is my duty to try to find reconciliation, but I will grant that there are situations when I must accept my lack of ability to get through someone’s convictions.”

Sorel watched silently as two people, who she now recorded as Luno Killian and Abby MacDonnell, talked about... the 21st century. Unconsciously, she leaned forward slightly, before realising it and stiffly returning to her earlier position. She felt a bit of excitement bubble up in her chest, and she immediately squashed the feeling down. She was in control of her emotions. She was so in control of her emotions. She didn't need to do anything stupid like try to join the conversation, not only would that be incredibly awkward, it would also give away the fact she had been listening in on them.

, With each handful of holographic sand moved, an.. okay.. castle-like structure came into existence. Every smooth surface was soon textured by little footprints and little dents where the little creature stuck her nose too far in for a sniff. Abdelaziz' hands fingers dribbled sand into little imperfect pillars, before he sat back and just.. decided to watch Cantaloupe explore their immediate surroundings, as long as she didn't disrupt anyone else. The good doctor adjusted and crossed his legs under him tightly, his fingers rummaging his shirt pocket for a snack— only to realize he had reached into the wrong pocket, those were her snacks! Abe checked the other shirt pocket and pulled out a small baggy of apple slices, those were his snacks. Unfortunately, the little ferret looked towards him — his snacks were about to be hers too.

"Oh, I'm just casual," Abby waved a hand. "Just like to... feel like I'm a citizen of the era, y'know." She tapped her book against her leg. "I do know plenty of movies back then, though."

“Oh!! That’s awesome!” He nodded eagerly, attention clearly caught by her take on things, and completely unaware (for now) of Sorel’s eyes nearby, “I understand that, it’s kinda nice to disappear into another time sometimes.”

"Why? What do you play?" She asked Luno.

“I love the science fiction, fantasy, fiction-y ones! Indiana Jones, Jurassic Park, and there’s a Vulcan series about topology that I’ve been working through on my time off.” He enthused, “Man… sometimes I wish I’d seen those classics in their prime, when they were brand new. Must have been insane, with all the new technology.”

"Mmh. Mm." Abby nodded, straight faced and quiet. She flicked her eyes back down to her book. She tapped away at the spine with her fingers, trying to work her way around discussing the past too intimately. "I could never play one of those fantasy movies. I'd be too scared to be a hero type."

“Oh, there’s nothing scary about it! It’s all fiction, so if you mess up, you can just roll with it! Or, if it’s really bad, you can always rewind, no shame in that.” He replied, “Plus, if you know the storyline, you can just think about what the intended hero of the story would do, y’know?”

"Er, well, choosing's tough, heh." Abby chuckled nervously. "I'm the type to ask someone what they'd pick if I'm forced to act."

“Ah, I get that. No judgement here!” Luno shrugged, “Everyone enjoys fiction and stuff like that differently, it just matters if you’re having fun, y’know?”

The way Tarsek spoke settled something in Tal-terrh. To someone unfamiliar with the philosophy of the Federation, at least inasmuch that Tal-terrh could never make it a part of himself because he wasn't raised with it, inundated from birth, its tolerance could come across as weak-willedness. Tal had tried not to interpret it as such, for an empire as vast and storied as the Federation could never last if its founding convictions were not sound. But Tarsek's words affirmed a version of these philosophies that he could align with. One that he knew represented what the Republic was now trying to achieve, for better or for worse. The celebration of the other must be reciprocal. It is not the differences themselves, then, that coalesce into expressions of joy. Rather, it is the understanding and coexistence that is worth exalting. (edited)

19:15

"The Way of Absolute Candor was a dissenting way of thought, in the Romulan Star Empire. In the Republic still, the people are not used to plain honesty, but they are tolerant of it, at least on Mol'Rihan." He had started speaking before he knew what he was trying to say, but he forged on regardless. "The Qowat Milat were able to express themselves freely as such for one reason alone: they dedicated themselves to the arts that would allow them to defend their right of speaking. And still, their convents were secluded and solitary, removed from society so as not to draw attention." He took a breath. "The one practice that would invite prolonged leave from the convent was to bind oneself as qalankhkai to a cause worth defending, that is ultimately hopeless. The expectation is that the sister would die in pursuit of the goal, as is natural in fighting for lost causes. It is a subject of some debate whether or not the practice started because it was so dangerous to leave that one's reason for doing so had to be sound, but it helped reinforce the notion all the same." It had been hard, over the years, to reconcile the things he had been taught with the things that would keep him safe. The balance struck between candor and self-preservation was one of endless internal strife: even now, the paranoid, grief-stricken part of himself fought to keep his secrets. "Gentle in some ways. Ruthless in others. I have never learned to be anything else." It was the closest to a full truth he would allow himself to get. (edited)

"It seems to me that it is exceedingly easy to accept another's candor when you are not bound to offer the same truth in return." There was absolutely no reason for the late Empire to completely suffocate the Qowat Milat and Tal-terrh personal experience and words only proved Tarsek's opinion true. Their members alone could be used as a warning: if you wish to speak against us, you must be ready to die for the Empire rules absolute and those who bound themselves to such an order are simply fools on an impossible crusade and must abandon all hope. How many Romulans would have chosen that kind of phylosophy? "Especially if you may apply the penalty of death should you not agree with them." Ever since their first date, this aspect of Tal-terrh's life had caught his attention. It was not a morbid curiosity, nor a wish to unravel cultural secrets. Some practices were closed for a reason and Tarsek was in no position to demand such knowledge. It was that duality between the calmness the other man portrayed and the unquestioned capacity for damage, for was that not the everyday battle of any Vulcan bound to logic? That strange familiarity of another that was once raised inside a world that was small, contained, self-sufficient and whose walls one day were destroyed with no previous warning, exposing them to a universe they were not ready to comprehend. Tarsek could find it in himself to admire the other's resilience, considering he logically knew his own experience did not reach close to losing an entire planet... forever. "Do you find need to be anything else?" (edited)

Abby nodded. She patted her book in her lap lightly. She turned to look at the setting, holographic sun. "I'd say I'm having fun." She remarked.

“Me too!” He grinned, turning over one of his shells in his lap, “I… don’t think I actually got your name. I’m Luno!”

The first thing, at least, Tal had an answer for. "The knowledge that there are others like you is dangerous in such a regime," he clarified. "If even an inkling is allowed to exist that there is a way to empower one's dissatisfaction, cracks start to form in the established hierarchy. Suppression is therefore the only option." He had not been a good student, but he had internalised this much. "The only place that could ever be made safe for practicing disagreement was behind closed doors." But the question to his personal experience surprised him. He had thought that the implication was perhaps clear, and he would not need to clarify further. Still, it was not an elaboration of his past deeds he was asked for, but rather a vision of his future. An inquiry into the hypotheticals he pondered when he closed his eyes, wishing for ease in living. "I do not know," he answered first, honest as always. "It seems to me that what I was taught is useful for when the goal is clear and the obstacles on the road defined." Ruthless pursuit of an outcome was easy. Gentility offered in the absence or mitigation of danger equally so. But there was no longer a clear goal, and there is no "offering" mercy when the other option is nonexistent. "In the nebulous uncertainty outside of those parameters, I am still searching for a way to exist that does not amount to... floundering."

"Oh, sorry. I'm Abby." She looked down at xir collection of seashells. "Are you also a civilian here?"

Tarsek chose to let the first part slide through his ears uncommented. It seemed another one of those situations in which their views were not opposite, instead coexisting in a much bigger and more complex structure. Tarsek talked as an outside observer, Tal-terrh talked as an inside experiencer. It was indeed very interesting to analyze how their ideas could be combined. However, at that moment, the individual seemed much more worthy of his interest than debating the workings of the late Star Empire. Tal-terrh’s next words were the ones Tarsek decided to foccus on. His uncertainty did puzzle the Vulcan. “When you say you do not know… I must admit I am at loss myself.” To Tarsek it was an easy question, objective even. The answer to it lay within observation of his own life and if his actions and choices allowed him to reach his goal. However, that was a logical view. Since Tal-terrh expressed to have no goal, there were no actions or choices to be made towards it to be analyzed. But was he not a being of emotion as well? “I understand that you do not possess a clear goal now. However, does not plain dissatisfaction with your current predicament, if you feel it, indicate the need for change?” He had heard such so many times. The redecoration of one’s quarters. An entire wardrobe change. A new hairstyle… a new hobby. All under the excuse of “feeling the need for a change”, even if the change would not lead to any tangible higher objective. Simple emotional fulfillment.

“Nice to meet you, Abby!” He exclaimed, probably a little bit too loudly for their proximity, “And no, I’m a science officer! A stellar cartographer, more specifically. I work with maps.”

"It is not that I find myself reluctant to change, or upset by its inevitability." If only Tal-terrh had the words to describe just how many changes he had made through his life. He carried it with him, in his name: ei-D'ehtea, after all, meant "of the Great Change", a name bestowed upon him by his adoptive father, whose name he would also take after the man's passing. Even the great many names he had taken over the years, none of which were known in their entirety to anyone but himself, belied an everchanging personal identity that simultaneously communicated a universal constant to his being. A constant he had lost, since coming to the Federation, where problems were few and impersonal. "It is simply that I have never existed someplace where the things I was taught seem to have no place in my daily goings-on. Even in periods where I settled, however briefly, I have never not had use for vigilance and mercy in equal measure." Vigilant, watchful; another of his many acquired names: "Mandukar." He introduced himself to Rojin that way, but increasingly, it had seemed that only Tal-terrh was a name of any use to him now. "I fill my days with the things I used to know, to keep the senses sharp; but what I shall use these senses for is a complete unknown to me."

He was met with words that did not quite answer what he had asked, which made him take time to re-evaluate his own query in case he had not been direct. No, he was quite sure this time his wording had been precise. He did not see a point to turn to the other, however, and tell him just that. It was not a vital information he needed. He was simply… discussing the issue for Tal-terrh’s benefit, maybe it would help him reach some conclusion if he had another person offering input. He chose a different approach to deliver his next message. “If I found myself in a situation where my skills no longer suited my situation, I would have only two logical options: to find a different way from the original purpose to use them or to learn a new set of skills. But first and foremost, what I would need would be a new occupation as an objective.” He stopped himself briefly to look again at the sea, at the rhythmic waves that now washed over with calmness but that he also knew contained power to inundate with fury. “This Starbase is diverse. Both in people and in activities. I believe you to be cunning enough to find use for your skills, rather than letting them go completely dormant. I believe it would be regrettable to let go of such unique mastery. Changing does not always have to mean abandonment, sometimes we simply adapt what we already have.”

, Not to disturb anyone who was already enjoying the sands, just that there was the brief zipping by of a lanky young man with a cob of corn in his mouth — barefoot and desperate to swim. He disappeared from the scene as quickly as he had entered, like a flash of blue and light streaking off to the distance of the scene.

Tal thought about his answer, Tarsek's words making it clear to him his meaning had perhaps been obfuscated, whether by imprecise language or by different interpretations. To Tal-terrh, it wasn't that he was unwilling to find a new occupation, it was simply that he had yet to find a way to adapt all parts of him to a life in the Federation. Listening to Tarsek, he knew they both agreed on the idea of adapting one's activities, not one's identity. The problem therefore wasn't that Tal-terrh felt the need to adapt his personhood, but that he struggled with finding a purpose that engaged his whole being, that allowed him to operate the gentility and mercy without losing the ruthlessness and vigilance. The only time he'd had something like it was long ago, and he had lost it as equally as he had a tendency to lose anything. By now, he was fearful to try again. "Perhaps the answer lies in-" he started, but cut himself off, falling silent for several more seconds as if second-guessing himself. It was a foolish wish to utter, here and now. What would Tarsek be able to give him to that end, anyway? It should stay an inside thought. Still, he should commend Tarsek, as the man had a talent for getting him to weigh his options. "You have given me much to think about, my friend," he said, unseeing eyes staring out across the sand. "Your words are well-weighted and thought through, and your advice is sound."

"I would hope so and I am glad you find use in my wisdom." That was what he was supposed to achieve, as a follower of logic, as a Surakian. "Most Vulcans find no use in thanking another, but for your own nature and the situation at hand, I wish to thank you for your current company, Tal-terrh."

Not far behind Wesley Shane made a run for the water trying not the plow into anyone else in the sandy area.

"Oh, cool!" She smiled. "I'm an engineer. Well-- I was one. Not in Starfleet, though, just... my information's out of date." She decided to phrase it.

“Awesome! Engineers are super cool, I’d love to hear all about it sometime.” He chuckled, “You can honestly come bug me when I’m working, if you ever wanna talk. I’ve been told I’m really chatty, so if you’re looking for someone to talk your ear off, I’m your guy.”

Abby chuckled. Her mind briefly flickered to Edgar, that guy she bowled with. "I already know someone who works here for that sorta thing. But, thanks. Nice to meet a new stranger."

“I’m happy to be that stranger!” Xe gave a little mock salute, before getting up and brushing off the sand from xyr legs, “I’ll leave you to your book now, but thanks for the chat! I’ll see you around.”