I have been aboard the Republic as its new captain for several days. I spent the first exploring every part of the ship, even the Jeffries Tubes. I walked outside as well, around the primary hull, top and bottom, down the neck, back and forth and around the secondary hull. Such a tour is an Ea tradition upon assuming command of a new vessel. We call it sha’las dar qal’va, which means “first journey.”
I was surprised by how modern the Republic looks within. In certain details, the interior is scarcely distinguishable from the Connemara’s, though the hum of the Republic’s engines is an eighth of an octant lower. But there were touches here and there of something older, on the lower decks especially. A wall-mounted intercom panel that, for some reason, survived. An old-style bright red doorway at the entrance to the tertiary sensor relay access room. A corner of one of the science labs where there remains a control panel with bright lights and toggles and an out-dated card reader. These were perhaps overlooked, though I cannot really believe this. There were possibly technical reasons to preserve them, and I can imagine a few. Or the engineers left a few pieces of the old ship for continuity’s sake. Or as a joke. Both seem plausible.
In a way too, I was looking for Kirk. Ea are not telepathic. If there is some part of him here, I will not find it by thinking, but I may by acting. That seems more appropriate in any event, given who Kirk was. And I did feel some connection with him. Not from within the Republic, but from outside. In the lower surface of the saucer as it curved away toward the sensor dome or the long vista of the engineering hull, the sharp valley of the nacelle pylons framing the limb of the Earth, the warp engines looming high above.
I expressed a desire to Baris to involve the crew in several other Ea traditions. He wisely advised that I avoid anything with nudity or excessive violence. I told him I would make due.
I have chosen two. The first is the blessing of the ship. If I were among the Ea, we would perform this from outside, on the hull, breathing in the light of the stars and the green and blue and white of Ea below, and breathing out into the ship. I did not ask this of the Republic’s crew. Instead, I asked them pause and recited the blessing over the intercom. This was not ideal, but with an old ship like the Republic, it is probably more important that it blesses us, and that it will do in its own way, in its own time.
The second is a gift, something of meaning, to each of the ship’s new bridge officers. This is one of the oldest traditions I know of, though I chose it mostly because I was eager to meet my new shipmates.
To Baris, I gave a stone I brought with me from Ea. Every Ea will visit the surface of our homeworld when they feel called and choose something—a stone, a flower, a vial of water—that speaks to them. This object will help them in meditation, among other things. I found my stone immediately before leaving for Earth and the Academy, and I thought Baris could use it now. I know a little of his condition, and I’m aware he uses meditation to find a way through it. I hope the stone will help.
To Ensign Tay, our new science officer, I gave a sculpture representing the creation of a virtual proton and anti-proton in a pure vacuum. It took some explanation, but eventually—and we were both enormously pleased when we did—she saw the interaction in the complex shapes and colors. I hope this might give her new insight into the universe she seems to love so much.
To Ensign Bereil, our new security officer, I gave a blessing. I taught him to recite it in both Ea and English. He seems earnest in his desire to protect others, and I hope this will be of use to him on that path. In English it is this:
In search of peace
May gravity guide me
May electromagnetism guide me
May the strong force guide me
May the weak force guide me
May the deep force guide me
May the quick force guide me
And where I do not find peace
May I guide it into being
With the force of my breath
The force of my blood
And the force of my heart
To Dr. Cummings, our new chief medical officer, I gave a miniature ha’ishla tree. One of the most significant differences I have perceived between ships and stations of the Ea and those created by the species of the Federation is the relative lack of living things. Almost every Ea ship is filled with plants and with small creatures, some of whom joined us in our initial exodus from our home, others of whom came later. Their presence does raise challenges—they do not understand why they should not chew through this wire or borrow into that insulation. But in meeting them, we design places that welcome us all.
When Dr. Cummings reported for duty, she asked if she could use the shuttle bay from time to time to let what she called her “finches” spread their wings. I agreed, on the condition I could join them. It was a joy to see them swoop and dip in the empty bay, after the day’s last shuttles had landed and been stowed. I hope they will all enjoy the tree.
To Ensign Twelve, our new chief engineer…I have yet to decide. She was formerly a Borg, and the Borg are an uncertain subject among the Ea. For some of us, they stand in opposition to The Way. We have seen firsthand what the unmitigated application of technology can do to a living world. For others, the minority, the Borg are the universe’s attempt to assimilate technology, to bring the natural and artificial together. These two great realms are not necessarily so separate. Though no Ea device has ever achieved it, some others have reached sentience. And while natural objects are generally the more resonant and deep and filled, there are created objects that have absorbed enough to be wise.
My own mind is unsettled. I am troubled by the increasing willingness I see among so many species to incorporate technology so deeply and so unthinkingly into their lives and their bodies. I believe that humans were more circumspect—perhaps because they were closer to their own troubling past—in Kirk’s day. Alternatively, I am moved by arguments about the value of integration. No thing in the universe remains itself for long. It will always blend into something else.
It occurs to me now that she struggles with many of the same questions the Ea have struggled with. And both of us have done so to heal—for us, a world, for her, herself.
I will take her to Ea. Not now, but someday soon, so she can see the answers that we have found. I hope, in this, she will discover inspiration.
I must finally mention two others, a Trill and a human, that I met prior to taking command of the Republic. They were to become captains of their own Constitution class vessels and so attended the same workshop at the Academy that I did. The Trill, Adalaxia Brigid Zeen, is still uncertain about her place in the world, but I believe she will find the correct path. The human, Patrick Guinness Donal O’Kennedy, is what we call a siva’ral. I believe the correct English term is “trickster.” His laugh was musical. But—I do not know if this is true of human stories too—among the Ea, the trickster must always find a way to sadness and grief, and through them become something more. I am happy to call them both friends.
I do not know the future, of course. I do know that we are making preparations for our first mission. We will be on routine patrol in the Orion sector, allowing the Republic to become the symbol of hope and optimism it was intended to be.
Rynwon's Log 