Author's note:In Set Theory, 'and' (∩) is used to represent set-intersection, 'or' (∪) is used to represent set-union, `\` is used to represent set-difference, and 'not' (~) is used to represent negation. How sets and people in this story intersect I leave as an exercise to the reader.
"Lt. S'Vrall, reporting for duty, Chief." I stated coolly.
The transportation officer nodded. "Could you please step off the pad, Lt.?"
I did. I looked about me for a welcome party, or a designated liaison.
There was none.
The transportation officer, Chief Tucker, looked preoccupied.
This was my welcome to the NX-01 Starship, the USS Discovery.
...
Day 1
I had memorized the entire crew's complement. I was replacing Cadet Tilly and was to be colocated with Michael Burnham, of no rank.
Michael Burnham, the only human Vulcan.
Michael Burnham, the traitor, who turned on her own Captain, and started the Klingon War with the Federation.
Yes, I said her captain, because Michael Burnham, an human-male name, is a human, ... or Vulcan, female.
She's also the sibling to Spock, the most famous Vulcan in the Federation, if not the entire Galaxy.
And her, Michael Burnham, the only person, incidentally, to get a perfect score on the entrance examination to the Vulcan Science Academy, knew more about Vulcan than most Vulcans did.
Michael Burnham would know more about me, just from my name, than most the Federation did.
And she was to be my roommate. A Vulcan is not uncomfortable in any situation. Therefore I would not be uncomfortable. Michael Burnham, a Vulcan who is 100% human, might as well be the one who was to be discomfit, seeing that I would be the first Vulcanoid member of the crew.
'Vulcanoid.'
Have I ever been to Vulcan?
I can truthfully answer 'yes.' But that is all the answer you, or anyone, will get from me.
"Planet of origin:" was the query on the Starfleet Academy application. Since I had just come, or originated, from Vulcan. I, truthfully, answered 'Vulcan.'
And I let my Vulcanoid physiology provide the rest of the answer.
Sometimes the truth – or a truth – can be much more misleading than a lie.
I stowed my gear under my bunk, all flowery, frilly, and pink, thanks to its previous occupant, and reported to the bridge.
"Captain Lorca, I am Lt. S'Vrall, reporting for duty."
Captain Lorca gave me a once-over glance. "Sciences, I presume." His response was more a statement than a query.
"Nossir," I responded crisply, "security."
That gave him, and the rest of the bridge crew, pause. All eyes were suddenly on me.
Captain Lorca blinked twice. "You're Vulcan, right?"
"... and Vulcan science vessels have security detachments, sir." I stated. "You already have one of the most capable science officers in the fleet," I obliquely referenced my new roommate, then added: "You will find I am better security officer than any other member of your crew."
Captain Lorca's face twisted up into a grimace that might pass for what you humans call a 'smirk.' "Boasting? I thought you Vulcans would call that illogical."
"Stating facts is not boasting, Captain," I corrected him.
He chuckled at that. "And there's that Vulcan pride." He let it go, however. "All right then, take your station."
"Yessir." I said, and took my post at the security station.
But did you notice something? Captain Lorca stated, but never asked, that I was Vulcan.
And my answers to him never addressed this statement, ... not directly, anyway.
Did you notice this?
Because neither Captain Lorca, nor anyone of the bridge crew, did.
Nobody knew what I was, other than what was stated on my official Starfleet records.
Assumption based upon assumptions based upon a medical examination that was cursory at best.
The Federation knew me as Vulcan(oid). In this they were (partially) correct, and I had no motive to dissuade them of their views.
I had quite the opposite motivation, in fact.
Michael Burnham, no rank, entered the bridge. She gave me one, surprised, cursory glance, then restored her professional demeanor and took her post at the science station, relieving the Lt. currently on duty.
Captain Lorca paid attention to this ceremony, the relieving of the watch at the science station, while giving the air that he wasn't at all interested.
Hm. I noted, internally, interesting.
"Ms. Burnham," Captain Lorca announced, "the red flares. Why are they showing up around the Galaxy now? What are they? When's the next one going to appear? Wasn't there one centered on the that Klingon flagship? Are they warning signals? Benign? Or do they indicate something more sinister? I need you to analyze these data and to make a report on this your top priority, understood?"
"Yessir," Burnham's voice rang out, calm, clear, and untroubled. Too calm for a human's voice, in fact, but too ... human? for a Vulcan's. It was unsettling for me, seeing her sitting there, still, more still than a human could ever be. It was to see the placidity of a Vulcan in a human body, and this incongruity troubled me.
"I also need to know when and where the next red flare will appear," Captain Lorca continued.
"That, sir," Burnham replied, "I do not have enough data at present to give you an answer. Of the nine appearances we've observed so far, it would appear that they are not random, but the intent, if there is one, is currently beyond any viable extrapolations we can make."
"Well," Captain Lorca grunted, "do what you need to do to ..."
"Captain," First Officer Saru gasped, pointing at the main screen, "I think we may have our next sighting!"
There, right in front of the ship, a huge burst of radiation extending into the visible spectrum, heavily red-shifted, but also stationary, relative to the Discovery at all-stop. The bridge crew gasped as it coalesced into a solid form.
"The Angel?" someone gasped, and I'm pretty sure it was Michael Burnham who said this.
It was ... glorious. Wings, possibly cybernetic, extending from a solid, sleek, humanoid-form. It extended an appendage, ... an arm? ... and pointed right at ...
But it couldn't be pointing at me? From outside the ship? Was this an optical illusion, – a trompe d'œil? – so that everybody saw it pointing at them?
"Captain, I ..." Michael Burnham said, then we heard a thump! as her head hit her console, her slumped form still and lifeless.
"Red alert!" Captain Burnham shouted.
"All hands: battle stations!" I echoed his command as security officer on duty, and the klaxon of the alarms rang throughout the ship to the sound of the flurry of activity of the crew manning their battle stations.
To no avail. There was a tremendous burst of energy from the entity, and, in the flash, it disappeared.
We all waited with baited breath, ready for any order.
"Scan the area!" the Captain ordered. "Sickbay," he said, hailing them from the console on the command chair, "medical team to the bridge on the double!"
Nav scanned for any signs. "Both short and long range sensors are clear, Captain."
"God damn it! Scan again!" The Captain shouted angrily.
"Aye, sir." Nav responded and recommenced a scan-sweep.
The medical team bustled onto the bridge and carted Burnham, unconscious, but alive, off the bridge.
"I want to know the second she comes to, you hear?" Captain Lorca growled at the EMT.
"Yessir," he said as they entered the turbolift.
Captain Lorca's clear blue eyes of flint lasered in on me. "You," he barked.
"Lt. S'Vrall," I reminded him.
"Yes, you. Man the science station. I need to know what exactly the hell that thing is. Stat."
I thought about reminding him that my specialty was emphatically not sciences, but two things dissuaded me. One was it looked like the captain could care less about my personal preference for security at present, and, two: I was probably the best member of the crew to do this scientific analysis, anyway.
Vulcans are good at science.
Stereotype? yes. ... but true? probably.
And since I was 'Vulcan' that meant, by consequence, I was 'good' at science.
Stereotypes actually made me what I am.
But now was not the time for an emotional outburst.
Me, being 'Vulcan,' (oid) 'never,' actually, was the time for an emotional outburst.
I relinquished my post at security and manned the vacated science station.
Let's see. How in the world does the science console even work?
"Nav, you have the conn," Captain Lorca announced.
"Aye, sir," Nav acknowledged.
Captain Lorca stormed to the turbolift.
"Give me answers. Soon." He growled to me in parting and the turbolift door closed at his directive: "Sickbay!"
Was it professional for the Captain to leave his post during general quarters to look after an unranked member of the crew? I wondered rhetorically.
First officer Saru gently prodded Nav, who was now the Officer on Deck. "If we have no emergent situation, perhaps we can downgrade our alert status to yellow?"
Nav blushed. "Of course, sir," she said, then announced, ship-wide: "Yellow alert. Maintain vigilance, but stand down from battle stations."
But that answered my rhetorical question. Maybe First Officer Saru noticed my look in askance at the breach in Starfleet protocol.
Or maybe not. I was the newest officer on board. Why would anybody notice, or care, what I may have been thinking?
...
It was Commander Saru who proved to be invaluable in helping to decipher the data amassed on the event that just transpired. This does make sense, as Commander Saru had previously been the Science Officer on the USS Shenzhou. He noticed that, along with the noticeable amounts of visible radiation (blinding, in fact), there was a massive amount of tachyons detected. This clarified the red-shifting of a relative-still object: it was moving away, not at massive velocity, but at massive time.
The briefing to Captain Lorca was interesting, to say the least.
"... and this indicates that the entity appears to be traveling through time, Captain," I concluded my report in a very tense mise-en-scène in Sickbay around the biobed where Burnham, still unconscious, lay.
"And," First Officer Saru added, "although our sensors were unable to penetrate the energy field surrounding the entity, my eyesight is such that I was able to see a humanoid form, encased in some kind of exo-suit or armor."
"Huh." Captain Lorca grunted. "Humanoid. So, what? You saw a face?"
"Eyes, sir," Saru replied. "I saw eyes."
"Eyes," the Captain repeated. "... and where were they looking? Who were they looking at?"
At this question, Captain Lorca focused an accusing gaze at me.
But Commander Saru answered, "It appeared it was looking at Michael Burnham, sir."
"Huh," Captain Lorca redirected his attention back to Michael Burnham. "Then she fainted?" This question he directed at his First Officer.
"I'm not sure, sir," Saru replied.
"So, ..." Captain Lorca mulled. "It looked at Michael Burnham, but then ... why did it point at you?" His ice blue eyes regarded me coldly.
I blinked in surprise. "Point at me, sir?"
This did not mollify his suspicions. In fact, it only enflamed them.
Careful, S'Vrall. I warned myself. Captain Lorca did not appear to be one to take lightly.
"It pointed at you." Captain Lorca spat. "And the only time it appeared to anyone before was to Michael Burnham, to ... warn her? possibly? of an impending Klingon attack that lead to an all-out war! Now it appears again. To her. And points at you! WHY?"
"Sir," I stated carefully. "This is my first encounter with this entity. I have no frame of reference even to begin to postulate as to why it would..."
"But you've met Michael Burnham before?"
"No, sir."
"LIAR!" he shouted, making Commander Saru almost jump out of his skin, standing beside his captain. "You're Michael Burnham's roommate."
"She was not at her quarters before I reported for duty, sir," I stated. "Her entrance on the bridge was the first I ever saw her."
"But she was on Vulcan, daughter to Sarek, and you never met her there?" he asked incredulously.
"Vulcan is an entire planet, sir." I replied. "Have you met every human on the planet Earth?" I countered.
He glared at me.
"S'Vrall," he said.
I waited.
"Interesting name," he stated.
I didn't reply. It wasn't a question.
"And you're in my security division."
"Yessir," I said.
"Can I trust you?" he demanded.
"That's a rather broad statement." I said. "How do you mean, 'trust me'? 'Trust me' to do my duties? Yessir. I swore my oath to the Federation and to Starfleet. Trust me to go beyond my duties? Yessir: I took up the science analysis of this event, and, with the very welcome help of your First Officer, we were able to give you the data over which you are now cross examining me. If there were reasons for distrust, wouldn't I withhold or obstruct information for this report? Commander Saru can attest that I have done neither."
"Yet I know absolutely nothing about you, Lt. S'Vrall. You show up on my ship and everything goes to shit, right away, with all indications from this time-traveling Red Angel-whatever, that the reason for this fucking situation we find ourselves in is because of you!"
They curse on this command. I noted. That's how it is here.
It certainly wouldn't be like that for me, however. The Captain may have methods he could live with, but that didn't mean I had to descend to that level of human-savagery.
Vulcan-pride, after all, I thought ruefully. "Sir," I stated calmly, "if you do not trust me, ..."
"I don't!" he interrupted angrily.
"...then a logical recourse is to relieve me of duty."
Captain Lorca regarded me, coldly.
Then he nodded. "You are relieved of duty. Confine yourself to your quarters until further notice."
"I hear and o-..." I caught myself and corrected myself quickly: "... will comply."
I added: "I will meditate until such time as you need me, sir. I request you review my service record, and I hope your trust in me is restored upon your review."
I turned heel and exited Sickbay, taking the most direct route to my quarters.
Security locker 7 was en route to my quarters, so it wasn't a detour at all. I had particular personal security concerns when it came to off-duty time.
And that was my first day aboard the USS Discovery: first a security officer, then an interim science officer on duty, then relieved of all duties.
Not exactly the most favorable impression, but I did not factor in a deus ex machina in the form of a 'Red Angel,' as Captain Lorca called it, personally taking time off from its time-traveling duties to ruin my day.
A logical conclusion would be to factor that in as a contingency going forward.
I crawled under my rack, set up the portable personal forcefield and drew the two phasers, setting them on kill and went to sleep.
There are too many people I have seen attacked and killed while they slept, unprotected, Starfleet vessel or no: I wasn't going to be one of those statistics. And, if, say, the Klingons did invade this ship, as they have invaded and overrun other NX-01 vessels of this class, then I would take down as many of them before they could kill me.
They would know my name as they died by my hand.
The Klingons, or hypothetically ... another species that was an enemy to the United Federation of Planets.
Hypothetically.