Off-duty on the Phoenix travelling toward Eden

With all reports confirming that the Phoenix was not only operating beyond optimal levels, but was fully prepared for charting the upcoming new region of space two days way, Syntron stood up from the center seat and faced his executive officer.

"I will be in my quarters commander Riker... You have the conn."

Moments later, the turbolift doors parted one deck below the bridge and the captain walked directly into his quarters. It was his first visit here since they departed spacedock.

He espied the somewhat battered cases protecting his two stringed instruments within the alcove near his sleeping quarters. The Vulcan Lyre and his hand-crafted Terran violin. It was the latter that he reached for and removed it from its case.

"Computer" the captain announced, "increase the room temperature fifteen percent and increase the sound dampening field by one hundred percent."

"Initiating " the synthetic voice announced as both commands were activated simultaneously.

Syntron sat on a nearby armless chair and plucked each of the four strings one at a time. Once they were properly tuned, he lifted his bow and began to play thelast movement of J. S. Bach's second violin partita, commonly referred to as  the Chaconne. It was one of many violin pieces that the Vulcan used to warm-up with when playing the violin.

To some it may appear strange to see and hear a Vulcan from this century performing Earth music from a millennia ago,  but these old masters would strive for intricate arrangement of tones, progressions and expressions in a vast array of compositions. Their pieces of music were challenging and required precise movement and manual dexterity to achieved a desired sound from this ancient instrument.

As illogical as it may appear on the surface, Syntron found that performing these pieces were more effective than traditional Vulcan meditation and also more interesting. From his experience in the Academy and in Starfleet, as much as humans could generally bewilder and hinder progress while acting illogical and at times overly emotional, contrarily they also possessed admirable abilities in musical composition; at least the ancient composers from his perspective.

Approximately fourteen minutes later, Syntron concluded the Bach piece and transitioned immediately into the much more demanding  third movement of Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto. This was the type of composition that demanded a virtuosity level to execute. He had not yet achieved this level of execution and therefore stopped multiple time to consult with the sheet music before continuing on again.  He continued this process for hours before he was able to complete the entire piece without any audible glitches.

He then went on to attempt several of the twenty-four Caprices for solo violin by Paganini; most with varying keys and tempos. These too were exercise builders for the Vulcan's fingers, ear and mind.

When at last he had concluded the last of these exercises, he carefully placed the violin and bow back into their case and positioned it along side of the neglected Lyre.

Syntron then replicated a vegetarian meal and consumed it leisurely as he continued studying sheets of ancient classical music. 

*     *     *

"Computer; activate Livingstone program Aikido 1."

"Program activated; enter when ready."

On the urge of the disembodied feminine voice of the ship's computer, Jonathan livingstone entered the chamber beyond the large sliding door. His bare talonned feet stepped onto a path of fine gravel and flat stones snaking through short green grass between small twisted trees of small red fruits, their white leafs bristling and sometimes falling from a soft breeze like snowflakes. The path mimicked the small river born of a thin fall that jumped from a black rocky cliff glistening with droplets and mist. It's graceful twists and turns lead to a small highly arched wooden bridge and, beyond, to a small house seemingly made of wood and paper. On the lacquered open porch sat a Human, so small and frail looking that it made the hollow-boned, feathered  X'ell look and feel huge and massive in comparison. The man was obvioulsy of very advanced years, his hair almost gone bur for a wispy grey cloud of ii around the ears and from his bony, leathered and wrinkled face fell the strands of of long thin greyish beard.

The old man sat on his heels, knees folded under him, hands loosely upturned on his lap. Despite his frail appearance, he was seemingly as immovable as the rock near his house and just as old. His breathing was almost imperceptible, his eyes closed. A small smile on his thin wide lips looked as if it was forever carved on his serene, peaceful face.

Livingstone came before the old one and bowed his head very slowly to him. In return, the old man brought his hands to the ground and lowered his own forehead between them. His eyes never flickered open.

The X'Ell sat before him. His own anatomy was quite different however, notably his knees flexing in the opposite direction, so than when he sat on the ground before the man he rested fully on his thighs, much like the gigantic bird that he was. He mimicked the low bow of the aged Human before speaking. He spoke fluently in the very tongue of the man, a language of Earth thousands of years old.

"O Sensei... Master... what is... the Way?"

"The way is the act of living; when I am hungry, I eat; when I am tired, I sleep."

The voice of the ancient was surprisingly strong and firm, sonorous yet very calm and very soft; the voice of a warrior now at peace with himself and the world. Yet, the words, uttered in a harsh and guttural language, obviously puzzled the alien visitor who's very strange appearance didn't seemed to frazzle him even a bit.

"But... Master... isn't that what everyone does?"

The old man then opened his eyes and sighed softly.

"No; most people are not present in what they are doing."

The Avian Starfleet officer thought for a long while. The old man didn't seem to mind the wait.

"Is that why they succumb to violence?" then asked Jonathan.

"Partly... Ignorance, especially ignorance of oneself, is the first source of fear. And it is fear that is the real source of violence."

Again the X'Ell was silent for a time, pondering the words before he spoke again.

"Master; I live in a time of great knowledge and growing wisdom, filled with people of advanced civilizations and seemingly magical technologies spanning the breath of the stars themselves. Yet, they still know and do violence. Why? When one lives in peace and offer peace, why would others still respond to them with violence? And why would violence be the only answer left ? Why would a peaceful being resort to violence to end violence?"

The old man then smiled a little more.

"Once there was a musician that lived in these woods. Every day he would sit by this old tree over there to play his flute. So heavenly was his art that even the wildest beasts of the forest calmed down and came to sit around him to listen to him playing. The wolf and the lamb would sit there side by side in peace and contentment, ravished by the lovely sounds of the instrument.  Then, one day, as the muscician was playing his wonderful music on his lovely flute, came an old mangy lion. The old lion looked with puzzlement at the other animals all sitting quiet around the musician, then at the musician himself. The old lion went to the musician, killed him and ate him before contining on his way."

"What a horrible thing," gulped Livingstone, eyes wide with disgust. "But... why? Why did the old lion kill him when he was doing no harm... even freely offering so much peace and beauty?"

The master nodded, still smiling.

"Why indeed... That is what all the other animals, horrified, shouted back at the departing old lion; Why? Why did you kill him? He was so peaceful, his music was so beautiful... why did you do that? But the old lion went on his way not even glancing back at them once, not even answering... This old, mangy lion was deaf."

Now, Jonathan blinked his immense golden eyes, his massive beak half-open in stunned silence. The master looked straight at him.

"In life, there are unfortunately a few deaf lions; that is no reason to let yourself get eaten."

This time, it didn't take more than a few seconds for Jonathan to understand. He bowed his head between his hands on the ground.

"Domo Arigato gozeimashita, O Sensei... Thank you so very much, Master Uyeshiba. There is so much I have to learn still..."

With a springiness astounding for a man of so many years, and yet with a controlled motion that stated much about his mastery of his body, the old man stood and bowed back to him.

"Let us begin, then."

*             *             *

Entering into the turbolift, Syntron directed it to deck 10. Exiting the lift,  he passed the boisterous activity emanating from the recreation hall and crossed into the serenity of the floral scented arboretum.

Utilizing his keen vision, the Vulcan observed as he walked between the meticulously crafted and maintained isles of plants that all of the flora in sight were flourishing as if they were indigenous to this vessel. The array and diversity of the specimens were as impressive as the colors and scents that they emitted.

"Greetings Captain" a voice projected surreptitiously from behind a group of towering plants on an adjacent row. Moments later, the light brown hair of the female astrophysicist was being pushed back behind her delicate ear with a dirt encrusted gloved hand as she approached him. Her sparkling hazel eyes seemed to smile as her smudged expression broadened with a grin to match them.

"Are you coming around to check on the condition of your babies, Captain?" she inquired mischievously; knowing from previous encounters that this reference would come as close as she could to respectfully irking this particular Vulcan.

With a slightly raised brow, he countered.

"Lieutenant Muller, your predilection for referring to the vegetation grown in this facility to supplement  my diet is not only inaccurate but vexing."

Touché she thought to herself as she broke into a carefree laugh.

"Oh Captain, you are not only a superb commander, but you honestly do amuse me," she confessed with sincerity and a sprinkling of a smirk.

"Now, if you just follow me over this way" Anita Muller began, as she gently guided his arm toward her angle of movement.  Arriving several hundred meters away, she proudly presented her well-tended crop of edible Vulcan plants, along with a group of decorative ones as well.

"Voilà!"  Anita announced with sweeping arm gestures. "You see Captain, all of your babies are thriving wonderfully under our guided care."

Syntron ignored the reference and inquired "Lieutenant, your position aboard this vessel is that of an astrophysicist. Yet the majority of encounters I have had with you aboard this vessel is within this arboretum."

Before he continued, Anita interrupted. 

"Very simple Sir. Astrophysics is my career and my position...  but gardening has always been my passion. This is where I spend the majority of my off-duty time Captain."

Then with a grin she added "But you know this already Captain. I think that you just like to come here spend with your babies and visit with me too." Anita added a little wink and a smile embellished on the last part of her declaration.

The Vulcan tried to conceal a reaction, but was not entirely successful.

"Lieutenant," he retaliated stoically "You are superlatively erroneous in your assumption. I arrived into this facility merely to assess the amelioration of this vegetation in solitude, not to be accosted by nonsensical delusions and suppositions."

Not even slightly phased but instead, rather amused by his response, Anita smiled and stated coyishly "I stand corrected Captain. I will leave you to your tour and I will get back to the plantings I was working on before your arrival."

She then gave the Vulcan a curious curtsey accompanied by another little wink and scurried off to her gardening once again.

Alone at last, the Vulcan continued briefly travelling among the plants. But with his senses now keenly alert for any other unwanted  provocations, the appeal of this serene environment  had been vanquished. Without a word he quietly exited out of the facility and headed back toward the turbolift.

*             *             *

Entering the enclosure, the captain of the USS Phoenix commanded the turbolift to ascend to deck 3. Exiting, he then moved effortlessly from Astrometrics to Stellar Cartography as he prepared a series of holographic projections and simulations based on an extensive volume of data and images gathered during their missions contending with the Azimuth Horizon Anomaly.

In his mind there was no concept regarding over-preparation when it came to a mission involving this menacing phenomenon; even if this were merely the gateway to their destination. All of his time spent as a science officer and his involvement on the previous missions allowed this process to flow naturally as he readied the compiled simulation programs.

Within moments, various luminous projections filled the darkened room of Stellar Cartography as it was transformed into a scaled down version of the enormous anomaly seething with dangerous tendrils of fractures and lights contrasted by absolute darkness. Syntron maneuvered the arrangement around to review it once again from different angles of approach, but this time from the safety of this facility.

He continued this process until he located the region from which they would be entering through to reach the other side. After refining specific aspects of the newly created program, he consolidated them into one comprehensive program and then sent a copy of this simulation to the temporally transferred helm officer Lieutenant Moore; who was tasked with carefully navigating the Phoenix through the formidable portal into the region of space on the other side of the anomaly. No matter how prepared this officer may believe he is to handle this delicate operation, another opportunity to carefully review and study what was looming ahead would be beneficial in accomplishing this objective with a minimum of difficulties or consequences. In this regard, the captain would leave nothing to chance.  

That's where he was met by his chief science officer. Lieutenant Livingstone entered the lab and nodded to his commanding officer.

"Greetings, Captain."

Syntron returned the greeting with a nod and a few words to the avian CSO and then continued studying the available data even more closely.

Without another word, the X'Ell went to the sensor monitoring station and linked it with a few flashes of his head apparatus to the data Syntron was already reviewing. Not disturibing the Vulcan's own work in any way, it alloed him nevertheless to start calibrating the sensors to the peculiar conditions of the anomaly and run a few series of simulations to test the results. Working in silence and without even touching the controls could prove somewhat eerie for anyone not aware the integrated cybernetic technology of his people; but Syntron had been on the very first contact expedition of the Artemis with the X'Ell and so, was one of the outsiders most familiar with it. That's why Jonathan did not hesitate to take full advantage of it while being alone with him.

The tests and calibrations would take a few hours but Jonathan was in no hurry. They would not reach the Azimuth Horizon before late tomorrow.

After completing his review in Astrometrics, Syntron exited out of Stellar Cartography and descended in the turbolift to deck 11. He entered into the hustle and bustle of the Ember Lounge and proceeded among the patrons and their salutations to eventually take a seat at an isolated table toward the back of the lounge that boasted a wide view of the stars and other celestial objects as they ebbed from view of the darting starship.

As he was gazing mindfully into the vastness of space, his thoughts were interrupted by an eager staff member seeking any request for service. Syntron ordered a small cup of spiced tea and then brought his attention back to the celestial view.

*          *         *

David entered the turbo lift on deck twenty-four and requested it take him down one more level. Having prowled the ship for several hours, he was actually glad to be almost finished his inspection tour of all the engineering related systems on the Phoenix. The main deflector generator bay and gravimetric polaron generators had been his last stop on this deck and now he wanted to personally inspect the secondary shield generators and tractor beam assemblies on deck twenty-five.

 Another reason for his prowl about the ship was that it allowed him to think. The announcement from Star Fleet concerning the Diamond Star had, although not come as a complete surprise, did jolt his senses a little. He had not expected Star Fleet command to announce the theft of Horizon’s sister ship so far and wide.

 Then, in retrospect, David had concluded somewhere around deck nineteen that they would have had to inform the entirety of Federation space to be on the lookout for a ship that could reach the unfathomable speeds attainable by the Lotus class vessel. And the information imparted by Fleet Captain Samji concerning the “suspect” identity of Rogers himself as the thief was also cause for concern. But David believed his articulate plan in covering his tracks around the timeline of the absconding of the Diamond Star would hold up.

 As the lift doors parted on deck twenty-five, David stepped out and proceeded toward the beam assembly room, thinking that right about now the Diamond Star should be parking herself a few thousand parsecs above the plane of the ecliptic of the main galaxies Sagittarius arm and venting herself of atmosphere after a purge to wipe out all genetic traces of habitation aboard the vessel.

                                                                                                 *                                            *                                                 *