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Lt.Jg. Sabina Tiam: The Healing (is a) Process


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((Tiam’s Quarters))


::The soft golden glow of candlelight emanated from the small alter set up in the corner of Sabina Tiam’s bedroom. A Betazoid prayer candle, colored with swirls of silver and gold in white wax and scented with a sharp, almost acidic citrus, burned slowly in the center. Surrounded by stones representing the Great Houses and small figures of key mythological characters, the candle was the center of Sabina’s attention.::


::In the early morning hours, her mind was still malleable from sleep, though stress already plagued her thoughts. Now, deeper into her meditative state, her worries had eased their grip on the pit of her stomach. Breathing evenly and intentionally, the young woman focused only on the flame. She neither saw, nor heard, anything else. And once she had settled into this singular focus, Sabina opened her mind. She reached out to the base around her, open to whatever emanated from it’s inhabitants.::


::She took a deep breath in, filling her lungs and expanding her diaphragm. And then slowly exhaled the air in a steady, purposeful push.::


::She felt the minds around her, a countless number. She knew they were there, surrounding her on the base.::


::Another breath.::


::Still, the minds were present. Present and utterly nondescript.::


::Sabina tried to focus, brows knotting as she intensified her gaze. She tried to look deeper, tried to feel the tenor of the populous. After their visit from Taree, one would expect heightened tension, maybe exhaustion.::


::But she couldn’t say with certainty she felt anything like that. She could feel she wasn’t alone; the world hadn’t gone quiet. But it was so… muffled. As she pushed herself to try just a little harder, she felt the same anxiety she had woken up with twist at her insides.::


::Sabina was experienced enough to know she wouldn’t get anywhere with fear gripping at her. She sighed in frustration, forcefully enough to extinguish the candle in front of her.::


::Resigning herself to getting ready for the day, she began the process of making herself presentable. But she couldn’t let go of what was happening as she moved through her quarters. Her sleep had been uninterrupted, which meant her recent counseling session with Sheridan must have been worth something. But, upon waking, she had found that without the dream to preoccupy her, the only thing she was left with was an uncomfortable emptiness. An emptiness that came only in part from her muffled empathy.::


::It wasn’t that she was experiencing major, or consistent issues with her telepathy. During her day-to-day activities it had functioned much the way it always did. Though, it was not as if she walked around reading the minds of passers-by as it was. Still, when she was meditating and trying to control her mind and use any amount of real finesse, she felt this uncomfortable tightening of her nerves in her core. But, outside of that, she was fine.::


::That was why when Vance had asked her if her telepathy was back to normal, she had said, for the most part, yes. She had been sure that with just a little more time she would be able to get herself back to 100%. That, and a negative answer would have prompted more questions, probably tests that were unnecessary and potentially notes in her file that she would rather avoid.::


::But now with the nightmares seemingly ceased, she had been left with no distractions, save for the ones she made for herself. In fact, without the Dominion war and her anger at the abandonment of her people in the forefront of her mind, it seemed all she was left with were her memories of the Noguwip and the last time her telepathy had been functioning the way she had trained for it to. But the last thing she wanted to think about was her time on that ship.::


::The dark-haired telepath looked at her reflection in the mirror. She was adorned with her usual combination of a catsuit (this time a long sleeved dark green number) and a multilayer sheer wrap, this one being iridescent. Her face too, looked the same as usual. Her mane of wavy dark hair framed her oval face. Her blue eyes were lined in black and enhanced with layers of mascara. But as she stared at the woman in mirror, something about her looked… off, out of place. Like the mirror could see a part of her was missing.::


::She had been able to talk through her feelings of being outplayed on the Noguwip. Which was something that, for her, was more than a blow to the ego. But what she had not spoken about was Y-rocck. Or the heady mix of mastery and violation he had brought into her mind. What she hadn’t realized at the time was that he had taken something with him. He had taken her sovereignty over her own mind. Trying to face that felt like standing on the edge of one dark, wide canyon and she was determined not to fall in.::


::But despite the feelings left after she let go of the memory from her youth, she was determined not to regress.::


Tiam: ::To her reflection.:: Normalcy begets normalcy.


::Eventually, if she just kept her chin up, and went about her life as usual, she would feel normal again. And so too would her mastery over her telepathy return. Eventually the knotted fear infesting her when she tried to work her mind would fade. She could get through this, and she could do it on her own. She wouldn’t need to burden anyone else. She was already sleeping better, surely that was encouragement enough.::


::In the mirror, she smiled purposefully, practicing until it was convincing. What had happened was in the past. She would carry on about her business as such.::


Tiam: oO Fake it until you make it. Oo


::Turning to exit the bedroom, Tiam prepared to leave her quarters for the day. She would go to the promenade; get lost in a crowd or indulge in a luscious breakfast. Anything but facing the mirror and the truth therein.::


Lt.Jg. Sabina Tiam

Intelligence Officer

Starbase 118

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