The First Day on the Starship Mesa

The USS Mesa was a sturdy California-class starship, designated for second contact missions and occasional deep-space survey duties. It wasn’t the sleek, cutting-edge kind of vessel that made headlines, but it was dependable, with a crew that had been together long enough to form a kind of familial camaraderie. Today, however, it was gaining a new member.

Ta’Pari stood at attention in the transporter room, taking in the surroundings with a measured gaze. Her first day on a Starfleet vessel. To an outsider, the Vulcan ensign might have seemed no different than any other of her species — pale skin, pointy ears, and black angular eyebrows. However, her years of training were going to be put to the test with this first meeting with other species.

The transporter operator, a young human woman with an easy smile, welcomed her aboard. "Welcome to the Mesa, Ensign Ta’Pari."

"Thank you," she replied, her voice steady but her eyes narrowing slightly as she tried to process the faint echo of emotion that rippled through her mind. Was the big day already getting to her? She refocused, abandoning the vestigial emotions. She deduced that it was time to move to her quarters. Having committed the ship’s layout to memory, she walked the optimal route to the lower decks, in a straight line to the lift.

She was alone in the lift. A quiet day. The crew must be on an away mission.

As she moved through the ship's corridors, her gaze drifted to each crewmember she passed. She could sense something… different. Like she could imagine all the various tasks they had to perform for that day. She shook her head, it is illogical to spend time thinking about what others’ tasks are unless it is relevant to her current task.

As she neared her assigned quarters, she felt a wave of strange, buoyant energy. She halted, staring at the threshold as if it were a puzzle.

She stepped through the arch, revealing her new quarters: compact, functional, with two pairs of bunks. On the bottom bunk, a light blue Benzite ensign looked up and broke into a wide smile. "Hello! You must be Ta’Pari," she said with a squeal. "I’m Qora! Your new bunkmate."

For a moment, Ta’Pari stood frozen. Her mind flooded with jubilation. It was disorienting. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, and she stepped inside, her Vulcan training working hard to keep her composure.

“Yes, I am Ta’Pari,” she replied, her voice even. She could not logically parse why she felt this way. Vulcans do not feel excitement, she reminded herself. She was an adult, past the foolish years of youth where Vulcans can’t repress emotion. And yet, here it was.

Qora jumped up, "I'm so excited to have a Vulcan as a bunkmate! I hear you guys are super smart! And calm. Maybe it’ll help me stay on task better in Ops!"

Ta’Pari blinked. Excitement seemed to flow through her like a current, compelling her to nod along. "Yes... focus is... important," she said, feeling her own voice become buoyant. She paused, almost taken aback by the lightness in her own tone.

Chris, a human with a relaxed air, looked up from his PADD on the bottom bunk across from Qora's. His brown eyes twinkled with amusement. "I’ve never seen an optimistic Vulcan before," he said with a chuckle.

Ta’Pari tilted her head, processing the comment. “I assure you,” she began, "I have never spoken this way before." She said it earnestly, as if she were making a solemn confession. Chris's chuckle seemed to vibrate in her chest, and to her own surprise, Ta’Pari found herself... smiling.

Chris raised an eyebrow. "You sure you’re not like those people who tell guests their cat doesn’t care for visitors, just so they feel special when the cat curls up next to them?"

Ta’Pari blinked and considered the metaphor. "No," she replied logically, but there was an undeniable hint of amusement in her voice now. She found herself sharing a small laugh with Chris, a light-heartedness she had never known before. It was a fog in her mind.

She quickly straightened herself, clearing her throat. "I must have contracted a disease or some form of contamination."

Chris laughed even harder at that. "Hey, welcome to Starfleet! Could be. Never know what weird things happen out here."

Ta’Pari’s lips twitched at the corners in a way that would have scandalized any of her Vulcan instructors back on the homeworld. But before she could consider the implications of these illicit sensations, an Andorian with a hardened expression stomped in, blue antennae twitching with irritation. Their name, from the crew roster she studied, must be Quasar. Ta’Pari felt a sudden shift in her own emotional state. She was embarrassed to be seen like this, and infuriated at these illogical emotions.

Quasar’s eyes narrowed as they scanned the room. "What’s so funny?" Their voice was sharp, carrying a tinge of defensiveness. "Got denied the away mission," they added quickly, bitterness evident in their tone. "Stuck with cleaning duty instead."

The moment hung heavy in the air. For a split second, Ta’Pari almost snapped in response, though the irritation was focused on her own predicament—whatever that may be. But then, just as suddenly, the feeling dissipated as she centered herself, focusing on her breathing as she had been taught in early childhood.

“It is logical,” she announced suddenly, feeling the need to regain her balance, “for me to meditate given the instability of my current emotional state.”

The room went quiet as Ta’Pari retrieved a small kneeling pillow from her standard-issue Starfleet bag and placed it in the corridor between the two bunk beds. She knelt down, closed her eyes, and began a series of deep, calming breaths. For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath with her.

Qora, Chris, and Quasar, though initially surprised, instinctively tried to respect the moment. Silence spread like a blanket over the quarters, and slowly, the strange feelings that had been building in Ta’Pari’s mind began to fade.

After several moments, Ta’Pari opened her eyes, her face a mask of serenity once more. "I apologize if I was disruptive," she said calmly.

Chris shrugged, his amusement tempered. "No worries. Just, uh, don’t Vulcan nerve pinch us in your sleep."

Qora’s eyes sparked with curiosity, her demeanor quieter. “That was amazing, Ta’Pari. You seem a lot calmer now. That meditation really works, huh?”

Quasar nodded slightly. "Yeah, maybe I should try that," they muttered under their breath, and then, with a clearer voice, "I’m Quasar. Sorry, I didn’t mean to barge in like that."

“I am Ta’Pari,” she replied, “It is logical for us to strive for understanding in close quarters.”

A tentative peace settled among them, though none of them realized the subtle ripple that had passed through them all. But in the back of Ta’Pari’s mind, something lingered—a curiosity, an unfamiliar warmth. She had never laughed before. She had never smiled. And though she did not consciously recognize the experience, she had never felt emotions quite like these. Something was different now. Something that defied logic.

And something told her it wasn’t just her.