[USS Tempest] Preconceived Prejudices by Sergeant Aleksander Singh & Marine Captain JT Swiftwind

[JT Swiftwind <Notaxe@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx>]

_Preconceived Prejudice_s
by Sergeant Aleksander Singh & Marine Captain JT Swiftwind

Smiling softly to himself, Alek made his way back to the Squadroom after 
his noonday prayers.  As he entered, he noted several darting looks sent 
his way.  One in particular seemed more fearful than curious.  "Is there 
a problem, Private?"

"No sir," the young man muttered, turning back to his work.  "It's 
just... do you really have to do that?"

"Do what?" Alek asked with a raised brow.

"Have those freaky words pumped through the comm-system," the boy said, 
still not meeting his eyes.

"It's my call to prayer, so yes, I do.  If you've got a problem with it, 
maybe you should take it up with the CO," Alek offered.

"It's just... creepy."

Alek blinked.  He'd had people call him out-dated or pompous for his 
beliefs but creepy?  "I think that's one opinion you can keep to 
yourself, Private," he snapped.

"Is there a problem, gentlemen?" JT asked as he stood in the door way of 
his office.

"No," Alek said evenly.

"Yes," the private said.  "He's creepy, all the guys think so.  We want 
the whole creepy chanting to stop.  You can't make us work under these 
conditions."

"Am I to understand that you are spouting xenophobia in my squad room, 
Private?  That would be a shame," JT said mildly.  "And you might want 
to reconsider your phrasing, too, mister.  It sounded awfully close to a 
private issuing orders to the company captain.  Was I hearing things or 
is that what you said?"

"No sir, that's not what I meant."  Raising scared eyes to JT, Private 
Striker drew a deep breath.  "He's just..."

"Creepy?" Alek offered with a smile.  "Interesting choice of words for 
an ancient chant that's been handed down from the Prophet Mohammad."

"We just don't like it, that's all," Striker asserted.

"And I don't like the sound they made standard for door chimes but it's 
not changing," JT said with a smirk.  He rubbed his chin with his hand, 
thinking.  "My own beliefs call for chants as well, Private.  Would you 
find them creepy as well?  Would you find a Vulcan koan creepy?  A 
Bajoran death chant?  Let me know when something isn't creepy and I'll 
stop."

Striker blushed.  "But those things aren't pumped into the Squad Room 
for all to hear, sir."

"Ah ha.  I see."  He thought it over then looked at Alek.  "And if they 
were?  Personally, the words to Gregorian chant from Earth are useless 
to me but I find the rhythm conducive to concentration and exercise.  Or 
do you object to a Marine being at top form by honing his heart and mind?"

"I think such things would be quite beneficial," Alek added.  Seeing the 
look of pure disgust on the Private's face, he sighed.  "But perhaps not 
to everyone.  Sir, a word in your office if I may?"

Fixing the private with a brief 'shut your mouth' glare, JT nodded and 
led Alek into the office.  He sat on the edge of the desk and said, 
"Talk to me."

"On the professional side, I have been trying to get a transfer for our 
troublesome Private but no takers at present.  I've yet to talk to Beta 
though.  On the personal side..."  Alek sighed and ran a hand over his 
closely shaved head.  "Does it bother you?  I mean..."  He folded his 
arms and stared at the floor.  "I've been called many things but never 
creepy."

"How a man speaks to the One Above is between him and the One," JT said 
simply.  "Is it different from my own prayers and chants?  Definitely 
but hardly creepy.  I think Private whatshisname out there needs a visit 
to the counselor for some thoughts on diversity."

Raising his eyes, Alek felt a tiny smile cross his face.  "They call 
people like us out-dated, you know."

"That's a shame," JT told him.  "It's a prejudice against Humans by 
Humans.  Suppose it's always been."

"My people have been just as guilty of that same prejudice, sad to 
say."  Folding his arms, Alek leaned against the wall and frowned.  
"Maybe I just expect too much of my fellow Marines."

"My own, too, Sergeant," JT said with a shake of his head.  "We 
heevahetano'o are as fierce enemies as we are friends.  Some people 
found that out a very long time ago.  You bring up a point, though, that 
I want driven out of Marines.  I am seriously tired of us all being seen 
as dimwitted Cro-Magnons,"

"I think you'll find I'm not one of those, sir," Alek said evenly.

"Didn't think you were actually.  You did a good job on my arm.  Not too 
many people take the care to learn the old ways any more," JT said with 
a smile.

"I've been in the field where we don't have access to tricorders and 
hyposprays and dermal regenerators; you learn fast how to clean and 
dress a wound, set a broken bone and do whatever else is needed."  
Nodding his head at JT's arm, he said, "How's it feeling now, sir?"  
Pushing away from the wall, Alek leaned over and took the arm.  "Any 
residual pain?  I can put you in touch with two herbal practitioners 
onboard, if you need something for that.  Personally," he added with a 
small smile, "I just use a hypo."

"No hypos," JT said emphatically.  He allowed Alek to probe the injury 
site, watching as he did.  "My mother sent me off with some herbal teas 
but if we actually have a practitioner who's wise in the lore, I'd be 
grateful to see him or her."

"I'll talk to him.  His name's Master Caine and he's a civilian, married 
to one of the engineers, I believe."  Satisfied that everything was as 
it should be, Alek returned to his position on the wall.  "An odd sort, 
but I quite like him."

"Don't know the man but I'll take your word for his abilities," JT 
said.  He let out a sigh and ran a hand through his thick dark hair.  "I 
think I'm going to have to go to Shields about the doctor, though.  I 
don't trust her."

"For your own safety or those of the men?" Alek asked carefully.  He had 
a very limited knowledge of Dr Tomilson but for what he knew, she 
appeared to be a very capable doctor.

"My own," JT replied.  "Over the past few hundred years, my family's 
religious practices have evolved into what they are.  What I will and 
will not accept as treatment is clearly on record, and has been since I 
set foot on Parris Island, but the woman very clearly said that  she 
wouldn't let me die if something happened and that she had her own 
beliefs to follow.  I see that statement as her saying she will 
disregard by wishes."

"That isn't unknown.  There's also several precedents where doctors have 
been vindicated in such circumstances."  Alek shrugged.  "If I were in 
her place, I'd hate it but I'd do what I could with what you wished.  It 
would be just the same if I needed a blood transfusion and all that was 
available was replicated blood.  I'd rather bleed to death."

"Exactly the same idea.  Might be I'm better off going through to the 
crew liaison.  I don't know.  I'll ask the man and see what he says," JT 
said with a shrug.

"Perhaps that is a wise thing to do, sir," Alek observed.

"Sergeant, I happen to be a stickler for manners and respect but if it's 
just you and me, the name's JT or Swiftwind.  That's not just my last 
name, it's the name my father gave me.  They also call me Spirit Crow 
but I expect that one may make you uncomfortable."

"JT," Alek said as a light flush deepened the colour of his cheeks.  
"Call me Alek, or Aleksander then."

"Deal," JT said with a grin as he held out his hand.  "I really do want 
to change the image of Marines from being barely intelligent cavemen to 
what  we really are.  I can use your help."

"What can I do, sir... err... JT?"

"What you've been doing all along: set a good example.  I'm working on 
the theory that Marines wills look to their leaders for leads on how to 
behave. Ours is the back up company and we have a lot of different sorts 
in the mix  so I know it isn't easy," JT told him.  "I know about your 
prayer schedule, too, since you very nicely sent an explanation to the 
company CO when you signed on.  Another example of doing the right thing 
by letting me know in advance."

"It's hardly polite to have you find out when the call sounds over the 
comm-system.  I'm just glad I managed to work out how to have it centre 
on my location rather than pumping it through the whole ship."  Alek 
smiled at JT then shrugged.  "If they can get past being afraid of 
everthing they don't understand, maybe they'll learn from me, but there 
are times when I think that's asking too much."

"We are still part of Starfleet, though, and we have to learn to live 
with ourselves so that we can learn to live with others.  Otherwise, 
that sort of Marine has no business being out on a starship, especially 
one out in the gamma quadrant," JT told him.

"I'd be one of the ones they'd class as 'others' though."  Suddenly, 
Alek snorted at his own bitterness and self-pity.  "And if I sound any 
more pathetic about it, I'm going to drown in pity," he chuckled.

"Yeah, you are 'others' but the Fleeters are 'others' to Marines, 
officers are 'others' to NCOs...women are definitely 'others'," JT said 
with a grin.  "We're all others to somebody."

"Perhaps," Alek observed, "we should see it more as being 'others' 
together."

"Which is exactly what the Federation is.  It's starts at this very 
basic level," JT said, tapping his palm with an index finger.  "We have 
to get our little Federation of Marines to get along and behave even if 
we're all different from each other."

--
When you lose the rhythm of the drumbeat of the Creator, you are lost from the peace and rhythm of life.
-- Cheyenne Proverb

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