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~Mo~

Ens Sovak - Ship's Time

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((Corridor near Astrometrics, USS Atlantis))

::It was the middle of the night, ship's time. The ill-fated reception had ended hours ago, though Sovak had not been required to attend. He had been busy realigning Astrometrics sensors and programming data collation. Grunt work, but an efficient use of his programming skills. That work was interrupted when the Grenushi ambassador's clouds broke loose.::

::Sovak had suffered the same effects as other telepaths aboard. He still wasn't sure something weird hadn't happened that he didn't remember - he certainly hadn't been in control of himself - but at some point in the episode, he'd had the sense to follow the shipwide announcement from Commander Mitchell and report to Sickbay. A nurse had assigned him a neural inhibitor set, and he'd been released to quarters.::

::Now, hours later, he was back on duty, determined to complete the task he'd been assigned. If he couldn't finish a sensor realignment in a timely manner, he was never going to be considered for more important duties, let alone a bridge shift. It wasn't like with Ren, who got to be on the bridge all the time. Sovak was in the business of computer systems maintenance and analysis, and to anyone but a computer systems analyst, he seemed to belong out of sight.::

::It was the middle of the night, ship's time. On Vulcan, on the part of Vulcan Sovak had lived the longest, it was late afternoon just now, when the shadows from the mountains lapped across the desert like the rising tide. He'd been happy there for a time, in his childhood, before his uncle sent him away to the kohlinar school. He'd been told it was illogical to attach emotional importance to a place, to pin his well-being to a room, or a house, or a particular street or town. So long as he had logic and control, he would thrive in any setting. But he always missed his home, and when the kohlinar master was hardest on him, he missed it all the more.::

::After years of training that was more intense and thorough than most Vulcan youths received, Sovak had failed to master the control of emotion required of him. It wasn't as though he hadn't tried. He'd gone to great lengths to meet the expectations placed on him by his uncle, his family, his peers on Vulcan. He'd tried everything to be the man they expected him to be. But something in him always made him fall short. The more he tried to control his emotions, the more he found himself exploring them, and feeling them, and reaching the logical conclusion that they were a part of him and shouldn't be denied. He failed to find control, he got angry about it, he fell on his face, and he had to start over. Over and over again.::

::The whole thing made him so angry, so frustrated, that he could feel that distant proto-Vulcan inside him fighting its way to the surface. He wanted to hit something, to take that anger and throw it forward through his arm to the end of his fist. He wanted to damage something, though he didn't know what. Usually when he felt this way, he found time in the Holodeck to play Parrises Squares. He'd long ago decided that the most logical use of his aggressive tendencies was to channel them into athletic competition. It always made him feel better, and put his mind back in order, too.::

::But there was no way to get to a Holodeck now, or even to the gym while so much was happening on the ship and he had a task to carry out. He thought for a moment he might punch the wall, feeling that frustration going through him, but he knew he would be the one called to repair the damaged LCARS screens. Someone would probably see him do it, too, and he'd feel foolish and ashamed, which would make him feel bad about feeling such emotions, and the whole cycle would start again. It made him so angry! The feeling welled up inside him, and he couldn't control the physical expression any longer. He'd punch anything, even the air in front of him. It built up, and he couldn't control it. Expecting his fist to meet to resistance but that of the ship's thin atmosphere, Sovak threw the punch.::

::He shouldn't have done so near a corner in the corridor, because, as it turned out, someone was coming around it at an unsafe speed. Sovak's fist connected with a handsome green-eyed Terran face that reeled backwards from the blow. The attached body staggered and fell, red hair flashing away in a blur.

RAVENSCROFT: Oww.

SOVAK: Lieutenant! Are you injured? ::It was an illogical question to ask a Terran who had just been punched in the face by a Vulcan with superior strength. However, the man had not entirely lost consciousness.::

RAVENSCROFT: I’ve.. ::hacking:: been worse..

::Sovak was immediately embarrassed, horrified by the result of his action. He tried to exercise his usual façade of Vulcan stoicism, but it seemed pointless now. That wall had obviously come down.::

SOVAK: I will assist you to Sickbay.

RAVENSCROFT: Sickbay? Nah.. ::coughing:: They have their hands full.. ouch.. already..

SOVAK: Then I will locate a medkit and assess the damage.

RAVENSCROFT: Okay.

::Sovak had helped the man to his feet, and retrieved the PADD that had clattered to the deck. He held it out, offering it back to the man. Sovak's anger was gone for the moment, but it was replaced by a long list of other emotions, and at the top was embarrassment that showed in the green blush of his face. It was the middle of the night, ship's time, and Sovak had a feeling tomorrow wasn't going to be any better.::

Ensign Sovak
OPS
USS Atlantis
NCC-74682

simmed by
Ens Ren Rennyn

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