Sedrin Belasi

((Starbase 118: Holding Cells)) ::Chen sat with his arms folded over the back support of the chair he'd wheeled out from behind the nearby guard station console. He'd spun it around and re-settled himself after sitting in view of Lukic for a good ten minutes, just watching him. With the seat backwards like this, he could lean forwards towards the cell and really pile on the pressure. He didn't need to tell Lukic why he was there. He didn't need to bombard him with questions. He certainly didn't have any desire to indulge in the interrogation methods that some of his black-collared compatriots might on other installations - on occasion, they would forget that they were Starfleet officers and cross more than one line. He didn't even have Sabina Tiam with him. This was about psychological pressure and winning the mind game that Lukic had started when he'd decided to try to play everyone in the Black Tower for fools.:: ::Lukic had begun by trying not to look at him. Then he'd tried turning his back on him. Now, the Serbian was sat in the corner of his cell, hands in his pockets with a resigned look on his face.:: Lukic: You're going to sit there all day, aren't you. ::It was more of a statement than a question, as though he was perfectly aware of the way things would play out.:: Chen: Until I get what I'm looking for. Lukic: And what is that, exactly? An apology? Do you want me to beg to be released? Give you a sob story of how a man like me ended up betraying my uniform because of outside influences beyond their control? ::Chen took in a slow deep breath through his nose. They'd reached indignance. He could work with this.:: Chen: I don't believe you ever had any loyalty to that uniform. And if you wanted to be released, you'd already be begging. I wouldn't describe you as a man, Mr. Lukic, so much as a loose end. We know what happens to those in your line of work. ::There was a pregnant pause.:: Chen: You know what I want, because you pretended to work for me. Just like you pretended to work for other intelligence chiefs before you came here. Lukic: You want to know who I work for and what we're trying to achieve. Too bad. ::His lip curled into a sneering smile. Chen had a feeling that he was about to get the "I know my rights" speech, the one where the guilty party quoted chapter and verse of every regulation they mistakenly believed would help to save their skin. He'd heard it many times, usually from a Romulan and involving the word 'extradition' - in this case, he had a feeling he would be hearing 'court martial'.:: ::He was going to shut that down before it started.:: Chen: If you're not going to tell me anything then maybe you'd be more useful as bait. Lukic: For what? ::He looked nervous all of a sudden, even though his tone was defiant.:: Chen: As I said, you're a loose end. Not to mention a liability, being as you wound up in a holding cell instead of doing whatever it was you were supposed to do. So, suppose I file a report exonerating you and turn you loose. I'm pretty sure we'd see someone from your organisation show up on the station and make some kind of an attempt to dispose of you. ::While that was a viable plan, Chen had no intention of condemning the man to death like that. It would be barbaric. They would have to take measures to make sure he could survive before rearresting him and sending him for trial. His words, however, seemed to have cracked the veneer of Lukic's resistance. A little more pushing and he was going to start getting answers.:: Chen: For example, we know there is at least one other operative aboard, because you sent a message to them on the Albion. ::There was a long silence as Lukic considered what Chen was saying.:: Lukic: They'll kill me if I tell you anything. Chen: They'll also kill you if you don't, won't they? Lukic: ...yes. Chen: What were your orders? Lukic: I... ::He opened his mouth and blunted.:: Chen: What were your orders? Lukic: I can't! I... Chen: ::Antennae tipping backwards, Irritably:: Computer, record an official amendment to the file of Warrant Officer Lukic, Adrijan, Starfleet serial number TX-832-538. Warrant Officer Lukic is hereby exonerated of all... Lukic: NO! No, stop! I was ordered to sabotage the satellite that you had in storage in the Black Tower. Someone pulled some strings to get me assigned here. I don't know who the other operative is, we don't get told anyone else's name. Just how to send a message. That's all. ::The traitor had risen to his feet. Chen remained in the exact same position, although his antennae slowly moved forwards, back into their neutral position.:: Chen: How were you supposed to sabotage the satellite? Lukic: Destroy as much of it as possible. Emitters. CPU. Eventually the transponder, although I used that to send the burst message to the Albion. I hoped someone was aboard to receive it, so that they could have a chance to stop the Albion from deactivating the satellites. Chen: They failed. You failed. We will track this operative down and we will detain him in the same way as we have detained you. If you continue to co-operate, you will be sent for trial and most likely held in a high security stockade. That's unless you give me a reason to drop charges and have you released before then. Is that clear? ::The answer was a grim nod.:: ::The best way to drag information out of Lukic was going to be to do it in small bursts. Chen couldn't risk pushing him too far, or he could start to resign himself to the fact that he was going to be hunted down - the trick was to keep him believing that there was a way for him to survive, have him thinking that Starfleet custody was somewhere he wanted to be. For now, knowing that the satellite could still be a target and, therefore, potential bait, was good enough for him to make a few plans.:: Chen: I'll be back, Mr. Lukic. ::He stood from his seat, and wheeled it back behind the guard console. Once he left the room, the regularly posted security guard would return and resume her duties.:: Until then, I suggest you make yourself comfortable. TBC Lieutenant Commander ChenChief Intelligence OfficerStarbase 118 Ops & PNPC Warrant Officer Adrijan LukicEx-Intel Ops & Sicarius OperativeStarbase 118

Welcome to the Fleet!

((Starbase 118 Ops: Greir and Chen’s Quarters)) ::Every shift was currently a long shift. There was a mountain of work to wade through and delegating was difficult in a situation where everyone’s trust couldn’t be guaranteed. Chen had no choice but to trust a select few. Based on their actions during the Astred investigation and the ion storm, Chen felt there were a couple of officers he could rely on - Mendes, Graham, Voss and Tiam. At present, he was in the process of turning over some plans for flushing out their missing undercover agent in his mind but, after an exhausting, but quite enjoyable shift, he was ready to wind down and give his brain a little rest.:: ::He reached the door to his quarters and it slid back with a soft hiss. It struck him as quite a wonderful thing that the air inside bore the same familiar smell as it had in his shared quarters aboard the Vigilant, Darwin and Deep Space 6. Hints of Greir’s and his own aftershaves, clean fabric and tones of Masala spice chai all blended into one scent, identifiable to him and only one other person in the galaxy: home.:: ::He hadn’t walked more than five step through the door when Greir appeared from the bedroom, the pleasure at seeing his fiancé return evident on his face. His golden eyes were bright in the ambient light of the quarters and it hit Chen how much he missed him lately. Early starts and late finishes were really squeezing their time and he’d barely had time to sit down and talk to his th’se since the ion storm that threatened the station had been dispersed. He’d established that he’d been OK, and that he’d ended up lending a hand by making announcements over the comm in the commercial sector. He hadn’t been able to provide Greir with some of the specific details of what he had been up to himself, but he had been able to give him the bare bones of where he’d been, and that he’d been involved in trying to disperse the storms before they could cause damage.:: Chen: Hey, th’se. ::He crossed the living area quickly, wrapping his arms around Greir and leaning his forehead towards him, the tips of his antennae almost touching the dark blue pigmented band beneath his partner’s hairline. The expression of affection allowed him to sense his familiar warmth…:: Reinard: Hey Chen, how was your day? ::...but it wasn’t enough. In response to Greir’s question, he kissed him hungrily and insistently. His hands felt the muscles in Greir’s back relax, and it was a good few seconds before he heard him breathe in through his nose. His partner’s hands slid down his back to rest loosely on his waist, and he felt the muscles in his face moving as he smiled through the kiss. They were all signals of how much Greir was enjoying the greeting.:: Reinard: Missed me then? ::The question came during a pause for breath.:: Chen: Mm-hmm. ::And the advantage of that particular answer was that you could say it while you were kissing someone.:: ::Greir was finding the all of this attention most welcome indeed. He’d missed Chen something rotten as well, although he’d quickly realised that this must have been how his partner felt when he’d had to work long shifts as the captain of the Darwin. He’d considered that Chen would be very busy while he set up his new department and he didn’t resent him for it - in fact, while he had some spare time on his hands before final authorisation for Terraform Command had come through, he’d started to try to change his schedule so that he could always be around and awake whenever Chen was home so that they could maximise their time together. Things would stabilise soon enough.:: ::He could have stayed like that with Chen all night, but there was something he’d been looking forward to very much for a few weeks now. Some packages had arrived that morning for the wedding, but one had been a delivery that had been redirected from Deep Space 6. He had ordered it for Chen’s birthday, a long time in advance, in fact, because the item was very special indeed and he’d put a lot of thought into choosing it.:: ::He was a little out of breath and he could feel his pulse racing. Mustering his willpower, he broke the kiss, taking a step back and taking both of Chen’s hands in his.:: Reinard: There are some things we have to talk about, Chen, and I have something to give you. ::He suddenly paused, remembering that his partner had just worked a long shift and probably hadn’t eaten.:: Reinard: Are you hungry? Do you want to get some food first? ::Chen shook his head. He was a little hungry, but he didn’t want to eat yet.:: Chen: I’d like to wait a while before I sit down and eat. I want to hear whatever you want to talk about. Is everything OK? ::The Andorian’s antennae were beginning to push away from each other as he wondered whether or not Greir had run into a problem with work, or if he was unhappy with the way things were playing out on Starbase 118.:: Reinard: ::Smiling reassuringly:: They’re fine, Chen. Nothing to worry about at all. ::He’d wanted to push his partner’s antennae back into position to illustrate the point, but they moved on their own in response to his reply, pointing themselves back at him again.:: Chen: OK, so what is it? Reinard: Alright, close your eyes. I’m going to sit you down on the bed, and then I want you to hold out your hands. ::Chen complied with the instructions, allowing Greir to guide him into the bedroom. Gentle pressure on his shoulders told him when he could sit down, and he held out his hands. He was aware he was about to be given something and he was very curious about what it might be. When Greir placed it in his hands, he found it was of medium weight, and felt like it was wrapped in tissue paper. It was long enough to rest on both of his hands, so it was wider than his body.:: Reinard: You can open your eyes now. ::The excitement in his voice was unmistakeable. As soon as Chen saw the shape of the package, he had a hunch about what it could be, and he felt an onrush of gleeful enthusiasm.:: Chen: Oh, wow, this is a hrisal! ::Greir beamed down at Chen as he tore feverishly at the wrapping. He’d expected his partner to identify the Andorian sword, as he didn’t seem to miss much, but he doubted he was prepared for what he would see when it was fully unwrapped. Or it’s sheath, for that matter.:: ::Chen’s grin spread wider and wider as he removed the layer of tissue paper, then carefully unfolded the layer of navy blue silk cloth that was wrapped around the outside of the weapon. When he saw the hilt, he gasped, tilting it to catch the light as he inspected the intricate detail.:: Chen: Thirishar’s word… this is absolutely beautiful! Etheka insets? Is this hand-carved? ::Greir smiled proudly as Chen examined his gift. The etheka wood insets hilt were visible between carefully woven strands of jet black cloth, which both cushioned the hilt and helped to provide grip. The material threaded through the hilt itself in a series of thin holes, keeping it secure and in position. The carving and etching on the wooden and metal hilt depicted the scene from the Tale of the Breaking where Thirishar stood before Uzaveh the Infinite. The Tale told that Uzaveh had separated the legendary warrior Thirishar into four beings, one for each of the Andorian genders, but Greir knew that Chen had always believed the story should have been different, that Thirishar was standing up to the deity. He would never have managed to get anyone to agree to carve that onto a hrisal, but this seemed to be as good a thing.:: Reinard: Yes, and you bet it is! Take a look at the blade. ::Slowly, Chen pulled the hrisal from its etheka wood sheath. The blade itself was etched with Thirishar’s trials in scintillating detail. This was some unbelievable work by an exceptionally skilled craftsman but, more to the point, this weapon could not have suited him more. He was taken back to the sword training his charan had given him as a young chan, out in the fields near Irimari, and how he’d continued to study the discipline right through school, always keen to impress the parent he had been closest to. After Chen had broken his bond and left the homeworld, he’d severed ties with all of his parents, which had been intensely painful but hardly of his own choosing. Hrisal training had helped him to get through it, allowing him to expel all other thoughts from his mind, focusing only on how he, and his weapon, moved. And here was a sword with the deity from the Tale of the Breaking that he had always looked up to, always aspired to be. He wanted to make sure he saw every single detail of the artistry on the blade without missing an inch.:: Chen: ::Looking up at Greir for a moment.:: I love this so much. Can I look at all this etching for a minute? ::Greir took a seat next to Chen, resting a hand on his back. He could see how happy Chen was with his gift.:: Reinard: Of course you can, Chen. Take your time. ::They sat for a few minutes, with Chen examining the artistry on the blade, turning it over to look at its other side after a few moments and making sure he took in every scrap of detail. To begin with, Greir stroked his back, but ended up taking to playing with the short, spikey hair at the nape of Chen’s neck, eyes shifting between the hrisal and his partner’s face. It really looked like he’d nailed it.:: ::Only when Chen was happy that he fully appreciated exactly what he was holding in his hands did he slide it back into its sheath, leaving it sitting across his lap on top of its silk wrap.:: Chen: I don’t even know how to begin to thank you for this. This is the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever been given. Reinard: It actually came late because of the transfer. It was supposed to be your birthday and it’s a shame I couldn’t give it to you then, but I’m glad I was able to do it now. It was master crafted by an artisan swordsmith who lives about eighteen miles from your home town on Andoria. I commissioned him myself. ::Greir had never cared about the cost of gifts. He didn’t normally spend a lot, with the exception of his recent visit to Starbase 118’s commercial sector. That meant he’d saved up enough that he could buy extravagant things for people he cared about without having to worry about the price.:: Reinard: You don’t need to do anything to thank me. Seeing how much you love it means a lot to me. I love seeing you that happy. ::Chen really was lost for words. He just looked at his th’se and smiled.:: Reinard: That’s why I’ve made a decision that I really hope you will be happy with, because it’s something I probably should have consulted you about first. It’s just that I thought about it right before that ion storm scare, and I hoped that you wouldn’t mind me surprising you with it. ::Now that he thought about it, Greir was very slightly nervous that Chen might be annoyed he had altered the plans without talking to him. He wanted the wedding to be both of theirs, with both having the same controlling stake and both having equal responsibility. The last thing he wanted chen to feel was that he was being forced out of the planning side of things.:: ::Chen wondered what might be coming next. He wondered if Greir was going to have to travel to Earth or something to talk to his bosses about the delays to getting his department set up on the starbase, or to a distant planet on a terraforming mission. If he was then he was really going to miss him.:: Chen: What was it? ::The question was filled with curiosity rather than accusation. Chen knew that Greir had given up a lot so that they could be together and if he did need to spend some time away from the station then there was no way he would give him a hard time about it.:: Reinard: I’ve moved the date of the wedding, and the guests and everything we need are on the way. I don’t want to wait and wait and wait and end up never marrying you, Chen, because of transfers, missions, jobs… anything at all. I want you to be mine, and for everyone to know it. There’s a specially reserved space in my family that I want you to fill. I want to make the commitment to you that I promised to make over a year ago and I can’t bring myself to wait patiently to do it like it’s a piece of unofficial business that must wait its turn to reach the top of the priority list and gets postponed if something else comes along. You’re very special to me and it’s time we took action. ::The words spilled out of Greir’s mouth, engulfing everything that he had planned to say in an unexpectedly emotional speech.:: Reinard: Are you OK with that? When I did it, I did it because I thought you would be. I hope I’m not wrong. ::Those nerves were mounting a little bit more as he waited to hear what Chen made of that. Essentially, he’d interfered in something that they had planned together and changed the schedule purely because it suited him. His reasons had been good, as far as he was concerned at least, but now that he thought about it, there was a real chance that Chen would be upset that he wasn’t at least consulted.:: Chen: You know, I have to say I’m a little surprised. ::Greir shifted uncomfortably. This was not a good start.:: Chen: You just got me the most beautiful sword I’ve ever seen, with so many absolutely perfect personal touches. You know me better than I know myself, and you’re worried that I mind you moving the wedding so that we can get married sooner? ::Picking up the sheathed hrisal, Chen stood, giving it a temporary home on top of his chest of drawers.:: Chen: If you had told me that I needed to get dressed because the wedding was in an hour, do you know what I would have said? ::Being as it had now become obvious that everything was alright, Greir was finding it hard not to grin away at his partner.:: Reinard: What? Chen: I would have asked if we could do it in thirty minutes. Now c’mere. ::He reached out a hand, prompting Greir to stand from the bed and go to join him. Once again, they embraced, and Chen’s lips found Greir’s.:: Chen: Thank you so much for my wonderful present. And I am so excited that we’re going to be married so soon! I guess I’m going to have to cut down on the osol twists and hit the gym a little harder, huh? Need to make sure I look my best for the big day! ::At the mention of the tart Romulan pastry, Chen’s stomach growled loudly, reminding both of them, and probably the inhabitants of the quarters above and below them, that Chen still hadn’t eaten.:: Reinard: ::Laughing:: As if you’re even slightly out of shape! Now come on. Unless I’m very much mistaken, your belly has just decreed that we need to get you some dinner. And then I’m decreeing that we’re going to snuggle up and watch a holo on the sofa. ::Chen very much liked the sound of that. It came with the added option of falling asleep on Greir if he got particularly comfortable.:: Chen: I think you, and my tyrannical stomach, both have a deal! TBC Lieutenant Commander Chen Chief Intelligence Officer Starbase 118 Ops & PNPC Greir Reinard Regional Director Federation Terraform Command Starbase 118

Eyas is SUPER-DUPER huggable!!!!!!!!

Welcome to the Fleet!!!

Welcome to the Fleet!!!

((Starbase 118: Habitat Section)) ::Sabina walked purposefully through the corridors of one of the Starbase’s habitat areas. She had spent the last half hour in her quarters, pacing. Something that, as of late, had become far too habitual for Sabina. Her transfer to Intelligence had come with a rigorous up-training schedule and fascinating work, each consuming the majority of her time despite any remaining leave. But she had found that upon returning home in the evenings, something just wasn’t quite right. Given any amount of time without other distractions, her thoughts inevitably turned to the Noguwip. Which, eventually caused the knotted anxiety to return to the pit of her stomach.:: ::So, rather than spend another evening lost in her own repetitive thoughts, she had taken it upon herself to seek out one of the only other people who might be able to empathize with her.:: ::Standing outside Vance Sheridan’s quarters, Sabina pressed the door chime and waited.:: ::As was the norm of late, Vance had only been back home for a few minutes before he’d slipped into a post-work funk. He’d managed to wean himself off ice cream (as long as he didn’t hear the words ‘cookie dough’ spoken aloud he would be fine) before there had been any major long-term repercussions on his waistline. In fact, he didn’t really feel much like eating at all now in the evenings. An untouched Hawaiian pizza balanced awkwardly on a heap of PADDs on the coffee table in front of the sofa, which itself hosted Vance and his black stormcloud. He stared vacantly at the screen on the terminal on his wall, which was playing back a documentary about wildlife in the Serengetti.:: ::He was wearing a pair of comfortable jeans and his dad’s old hockey shirt. Despite being a couple of sizes too big (big enough that the neckline was sagging off to one side, revealing his collar bone and the freckles on one side of his neck), it reminded him of home. It used to be purple, but it was quite badly faded, and the stitching was coming undone from one of the patches on the sleeves. As if to complete the look, he’d been lying down with his head propped against the arm of the sofa for long enough that his hair was sticking up at the back, like a duck’s tailfeathers.:: ::When the chime rang, he started, coming back into focus and hauling himself into an upright position. Travelling to the door was like walking on stepping stones between piles of discarded clothes. His furniture resembled obstacles that were stacked with used mugs and plates. Very little by way of tidying had happened since the riots had ended.:: ::He made it to the door without more of an incident than tripping over a pair of track pants. When the door slid back to reveal Sabina, he regained his sense pretty quickly. He wasn’t sure who he had been expecting, but seeing a friend on his doorstep immediately had him worrying about the state of the place and what they might think.:: Sheridan: Sabina! Hi! Tiam: ::Smiling.:: Hi. ::She glanced past him into his quarters for a moment.:: I hope I’m not interrupting anything. ::As the Betazoid tried to look past him into his quarters, he found himself angling himself to try to block her line of sight to the devastation that lay inside. It was a futile effort.:: Sheridan: Nope. Nothing at all. ::He cleared his throat and mentally switched himself into counsellor mode.:: What can I do for you? Tiam: I had hoped you might have some time- ::Sabina cut herself off and, with a breath, visibly dropped her pretext.:: It’s been a long couple of days and I could use a friend to spend some time with. Mind if I come in? ::beat:: Oh, ::She held up the bottle that had previously been tucked under her arm.:: and I come bearing gifts. ::Coming back out of counsellor mode was a little less easy than jumping into it. It took Vance a couple of seconds of silence to process what she was actually asking, which probably came over as him having been momentarily hypnotised by the bottle. One part of his mind was reminding him loudly that he wanted to be on his own. The other half was unable to ignore the fact that Sabina was asking for a friend’s help.:: ::When it came down to it, he felt like spending a time with a friend would really do him some good. He’d been alone enough. He told that part of his mind to pipe down.:: Sheridan: Wow. Good choice of gift. Come on in. Just uh… give me a second to turn this place from a dump back into a habitable environment… Tiam: Thanks. ::Walking in, she began to look around the living space as the door closed behind her. Clearly, Vance’s response to the stress of their recent mission hadn’t been neurotic cleaning. Sabina did her best to hide her amusement.:: ::He started whizzing around the room, pushing bundles of clothes into heaps and stacking all of the cups and plates in one area so that they could be ferried more quickly to the recycler later.:: Sheridan: ::Under his breath:: Embarrassiiiiing… ::He fumbled for some appropriate small talk to distract his guest from the fact he was speed-tidying.:: So what did you bring? Tiam: I’m clear out of Saurian brandy. ::Her drink of choice.:: But I did have this tucked away… I don’t know if you’re a whiskey person, but it’s honied and fairly mild. Perfect for sipping. ::Well, his luck was in then. It was really too bad that Sabina had run out of her favourite drink, but it sounded like what she had brought was very close to Vance’s favourite.:: Sheridan: Sounds good! ::He cleared a couple of t-shirts and his uniform off the seats and hurled them over towards the pile, then carefully cleared everything except for the pizza from the coffee table. The living area actually looked like a living area again.:: Sheridan: Help yourself to pizza. That was just replicated a short time ago, I promise. I’m really sorry about the mess. I’m usually pretty tidy, but I guess work kind of got on top of me lately. ::She glanced at the pizza. While she had developed an affinity for the human food living on Earth for so long, her appetite wasn’t with her this evening.:: Tiam: Thanks. And seriously, don’t worry about it. We’ve all been swamped. ::Though, her quarters were immaculate. Sabina did, in fact, respond to stress with neurotic cleaning.:: ::He decided that taking the step of plumping up the flattened cushions so that Sabina actually had a fighting chance of being comfortable might be a good idea, and took care of it in short order.:: Sheridan: OK. ::He sighed, then smiled cheerily.:: I think we’re good, although you might want to just, you know, run a scan or something to make sure this isn’t still a hazardous environment. Tiam: ::She chuckled.:: Really Vance, it’s fine. Besides, exposure is the only way to build resistance! ::Helping herself to the replicator, Sabina produced two short whiskey tumblers with ice. She filled them with a moderate amount of the drink she’d brought. Enough to not seem stingy, but not as much as to imply she was trying to get the good counselor drunk. She handed one of the glasses off to him and took a seat on the couch, pulling one leg up under the other very casually.:: Tiam: ::After a deep sip of her drink.:: Before we get too comfortable, let me say, I am here strictly as a friend. Can we leave the job outside? ::Vance had been working appointments all day again, and was certainly in need of a break. Not having to think too carefully about what he said next, or avoiding leading questions or, heck, not having to write everything down? That sounded like a major blessing.:: Sheridan: God, yes. Tiam: ::She smiled.:: Ok. Good. Then let me ask you something… ::She set her drink down on the table in front of her, leaning forward with an expression of genuine curiosity.:: How have you been? ::She asked not in the way friends did to catch up, but rather with the weight of knowing he too had gone through a difficult time.:: ::Oh, they were going there.:: Sheridan: Uhm… ::He frowned, nodding in consideration of how he was going to answer, then took in a slow, deep breath through his nose. If they were doing this the friends way instead of the counselling way, then he figured he should just go for an honest answer.:: Sheridan: Pretty crappy, honestly. I tried to bury myself in work to distract myself and now the amount of follow-up appointments is starting to get on top of me. I also cried in front of the first officer, which I’m pretty sure doesn’t do much for your kudos. How about you? ::He took a drink from his glass, features expressing his concern once he swallowed the alcoholic nectar. There was no hiding the fact he was increasingly worried he hadn’t really helped Sabina during her appointment.:: Tiam: ::She ran a hand through her mass of hair, considering.:: I could say I’ve been managing fine. Enjoying leave, staying on top of things but, honestly, it’s been really difficult. Once the day’s distractions are done… ::She trailed off and took another sip of her whiskey, welcoming the warmth that came with it. She supposed no one had said honesty was easy, but still, Sabina was finding that she had become so comfortable behind a veneer of professionalism, anything less than a polished, prepared image was challenging.:: Tiam: I don’t know. I come home and it’s like the only thing left is what happened this past mission. Which, of course, is the last thing I really want to spend time pouring over. ::Vance nodded, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.:: Sheridan: No kidding. I was worried I didn’t help you out enough in that counselling appointment. I think you’re doing a very good job of holding everything together, though. Tiam: I’m quite good at avoidance. But hold on, let’s circle back for a second. Did you say you cried in front of Taybrim? ::Her brows scrunched in concerned curiosity.:: ::He laughed, more out of embarrassment than anything else. Perhaps he shouldn’t have said anything. Regret was painted on his face as he answered, mostly that it had happened in the first place.:: Sheridan: Yeah. I did that. He was good about it. I was explaining to him how helpless I felt when Y-rocck… you know... ::He was overtired and didn’t really have all the necessary defences in place to deal with remembering that part of his conversation with the commander. There was no way he was going to let it happen again, so he tailed off, using his drink as a convenient way to mask the fact he needed a second to get himself straight.:: ::It took him a second to stabilise himself, and another second to get his voice back. His hand dropped onto his lap and he hung his head, looking down into his glass.:: Sheridan: Sorry. You know what I mean. ::Shifting into a new posture on the couch, one arm on the back cushion, Sabina leaned her head onto her hand with a small sigh.:: Tiam: I don’t mean to be so forward about everything. It’s just, back home, when things are hard, or difficult circumstance arise, there aren’t really secrets. Everything is out in the open, discussed and eventually I suppose, settled. That’s really not the case across the fleet. ::Vance had a different view of things as a counsellor, but that was because talking about difficult circumstances with members of the fleet was his day job. Thinking about it, he couldn’t remember very many times where he’d overheard other officers talking to each other about things that were bugging them, so he really had to concede that point.:: Sheridan: I guess. People do have a tendency to keep things to themselves. Tiam: I notice Terrans, especially, seem to keep emotional issues very private. It’s hard not to pick up on that habit. ::Some humans that Vance knew were unfailingly private. They were the ones who showed up to counselling sessions and effectively clammed up for an hour, maybe surrendering one piece of information if he was lucky.:: Sheridan: It’s easily picked up and not so easily broken. I didn’t think I was private, but I guess I found out how much being able to keep my feelings to myself means to me. Maybe it’s a human failing, and we should learn to share more, as a species. ::A brief moment of quiet settled over the pair. Sabina slowly spun the contents of her glass and watched the ice settle before looking back up to Vance.:: Tiam: Did they give you a commendation? ::She assumed they did, if anyone had really deserved recognition, it was Vance.:: They gave me one. Now, sometimes I just look at it and think, what an odd thing to receive this for. Sheridan: Yeah, I got one too. I guess I’ve maybe been seeing it as a consolation prize. Validation in some way that I didn’t make a horrendous mess of the mission. ::And a reminder, too, that someone thought that his choice to doom a Starfleet ambassador twice over hadn’t actually been a choice so much as an unavoidable necessity.:: Tiam: Maybe it’s just me but, ::she chose her next few words carefully.:: what we went through on that ship, it’s got me questioning a lot. I feel a bit like I’m being dragged through Plato’s cave. ::The main question in Vance’s mind was ‘why?’ Other than taking the chance to torture three innocent people, Vance really didn’t see any benefit to what Y-rocck had done beyond making himself feel powerful and getting a rush out of inflicting pain and suffering. Beyond that, he supposed he’d spent more time feeling sorry for himself than doing much else. He’d been up and down; the night he’d spent on wingman duty for Peters had been amusing, and he’d enjoyed talking to Kaitlyn Falcon in the pub, but other than that it hadn’t been a barrel of laughs.:: Sheridan: Having your eyes opened to the world outside? ::He’d seen a diagram that illustrated the cave during his studies at school, before he’d even joined the academy. He’d found it interesting, although the ramifications of exactly what it had meant hadn’t been fully apparent at the time. Prisoners, chained in a cave, with the sun shining through the entranceway and casting renditions of life from the outside onto the cave wall in shadow. The thought behind it was that to the prisoners, those moving shadows were the closest thing to reality that they would ever experience.:: Tiam: Something like that. ::In the allegory, the journey from prisoner to one who could stand upright and look upon the sun and the world underneath it was often described as a painful one. One would, after all, resist an entirely new reality being thrust upon them.:: Sheridan: So, what kinds of thing are you questioning? Tiam: Myself, mainly. ::The corner of her mouth raised in a smirk but her eyes remained dark.:: My principles. On Betazed we have strict moral guidelines on the use of telepathy both for within our own communities and for interacting with species who are not telepathic. But during the war, after a long occupation and realizing there were no other options, many turned to weaponizing their telepathy. ::The sentiment now made her far more uncomfortable than it once did, something that was written all over her body language. Still, hating to see a good whiskey get watered down, Sabina took the last sip of her drink. And with it gained the final bit of resolve she needed to finish her thought.:: Tiam: I used to understand that. I used to try and prepare for a day when that might be needed again, strengthening my abilities and my attitudes. But now… Now I wonder if that makes me like him. ::As the conversation turned towards something that had been nagging at the edges of Vance’s mind since the riots had ended, he shifted in his seat, tucking his legs onto the sofa. One knee was tucked into his chest, with his free arm wrapped around it in a half-guarded gesture.:: ::Sal Taybrim had told him that Betazoids had a moral code about when they should and should not use their telepathy with offworlders. Sabina had just repeated that, and then told him she was questioning his morals. Suddenly, he felt a lot less safe.:: ::The idea of someone going in his mind again was terrifying. What made it even worse was that it seemed oddly compelling somehow. Uncomfortably, no, harrowingly compelling. He scratched at his knee absently and breathed in deeply through his nose as he answered.:: Sheridan: I guess that depends on whether or not you still feel it would be morally wrong to force yourself into someone’s mind. If you don’t, or if you do but then you still do it anyway, then yeah. That would make you like him. But if you don’t, then it doesn’t. ::Part of him was expecting her to just take the opportunity then and there. There was no-one else in the room. It was odd; he didn’t feel afraid, not now he knew what it felt like. He was just preparing himself for the worst.:: ::Primarily unaware of Sheridan’s deep concern, in part due to her own avoidance of her empathic abilities and in part due to being wrapped up in her own thoughts, Sabina weighed his words.:: Tiam: It’s funny, after what happened, I can’t even access the full extent of my abilities. ::She bit at her lip.:: It’s like I scare myself off. But I hear what you’re saying. Still, can it circumstantial? ::She thought back to the series of events leading to Aidris-Taree’s expulsion from SB118, the images in her mind sending chills down her spin.:: Tiam: I mean, I hate to say it, truly I do, but what happened on that ship, clearly made us impervious to the entity on the base. And without that, things could have ended up very different. So, ::She rested her head on her arm now, propped comfortably on one corner of the couch.:: do the ends justify the means, or do the means make us who we are? ::As she recapped the events that had brought about an end to the riots, Vance made two realisations in quick succession. The first was that whether or not Y-rocck’s invasion had left them impervious to Taree’s psionic abilities was probably a moot point. The second was that he wasn’t looking at someone who was about to hurt him. Thoughts of Y-rocck reminded him who his enemy was for one thing and, for another, if Sabina had wanted to hurt him then she would have done it by now.:: ::In fact, she wouldn’t have even needed to enter the room first.:: Sheridan: The ends definitely do not justify the means in this case. With his level of psionic power, I don’t have any doubts that Y-rocck could have boarded the station himself and dealt with Taree. Instead, it was just more convenient to use expendable puppets. ::Whether or not his theory was right or wrong was irrelevant to him in that moment. He had been used, so had his friends, and he was angry about it.:: ::Sabina leaned forward, gripped by his words. He had laid out the situation so bluntly and in a way that she had not been seeing it. Had she been justifying what had happened to herself, trying to write off and minimize something that was truly terrible?:: Sheridan: He knew exactly what he was doing. He was playing with us. He walked into and out of our minds for fun, then he poisoned you, tried to cut the Ambassador’s head open and gave me no choice but to burn myself. He was a monster. ::Sabina was silent. As Vance spoke, a heady mix of anger and cold pain rolled around her like a heavy fog. Whether it was because his emotions were so strong, or because her focus on blocking out such things had failed her, she couldn’t say. In fact, she found it rather difficult to know what feelings were coming from where.:: ::She had been fine. What happened was nothing more than a fact, a bullet point in a mission summary. But Vance, he had told the real story, he had given the facts truth. A glance down at her hands revealed a faint tremble.:: Tiam: ::Her voice was thinner than it usually was.:: Is that… what happened? ::His fingers gripped his knee and his knuckles turned white. A tremor ran through his upper body, almost like a shiver, but from the cold that only anger can produce. He tried to hold everything inside himself, knowing that someone needed him to be strong enough to just talk to them, but his emotions betrayed him. He gasped in a breath as twin tears spilled down his face. He didn’t do anything to hide it this time.:: Sheridan: You’re a good person. What happened on Betazed with the Jem’Hadar is a different thing. ::He swallowed, continuing to speak past the lump in his throat.:: Sometimes, you don’t have a choice but to fight back if you want to survive and that is very, very different to making someone suffer and getting enjoyment out of it. ::For a long moment, Sabina didn’t know how to react. It had been a long time since someone had been so open with her. And she couldn’t think of a time anyone had called her a “good” person. She felt a chill on her cheeks. Reaching a hand up, she felt fallen tears there. When had that happened, she wondered. And why were they still coming?:: ::Something else was nagging at her. Vance wasn’t feeling all of this over her. Clearly, his struggle with this was equally raw. With the delicate movement of a dancer, she positioned herself closer to him.:: Tiam: Vance, ::She looked at him, making sure that he had a moment to breathe and was looking at her.:: you’re right you know. Sometimes, ::She blinked tears from her eyes.:: sometimes you don’t have a choice. Sheridan: If I’d had the power to fight back against Y-rocck and hurt him, really hurt him, so that I could defend myself, I would have done it. ::There was less anger in his words now. It had been overtaken by honesty. He spoke slowly, voice cracking under the weight of too much emotion.:: Sheridan: He humiliated us and made us suffer for fun. What kind of creature does that? ::Y-rocck was far from the most dangerous force in the galaxy, but few other threats were threats for the sake of it. The Borg sought perfection. Orion pirates were driven by greed. That didn’t justify what any of them did, but it made it easier to rationalise.:: Tiam: But we survived. ::Trembling hands wiped at her jaw line where the tears inevitably settled before falling.:: And we didn’t go through it alone. ::She was right about that. He answered her with a nod. He wanted to smile and say something reassuring, or to give her a hug, but the guilt from suspecting she might hurt him had caught up with him. He wiped at his eyes with the back of his sleeve, taking momentary comfort from the memories of home it invoked.:: Sheridan: I don’t know which way is up any more. I don’t know about you, but I feel like there are no boundaries around my mind anymore, and everyone is a potential threat. I mean, I honestly don’t know how I would have held things together through the riot if you hadn’t been there and I know we don’t know each other very well, but I already think of you as a friend… but, just now when you said you were questioning the moral code that Betazoids have, I thought you were going to go wandering around in my brain. Even though I trust you not to. ::He sighed deeply and wiped away more tears.:: Sheridan: I’m supposed to be a counsellor and tell people how to deal with things like this, but knowing what to say and then actually doing it are two different things. Have you been having the same problem? ::Just because she was a Betazoid didn’t mean that she was necessarily predisposed towards being able to hold things together any better than he could.:: Tiam: ::She nodded.:: Vance, I don’t know what to do. I feel lost, displaced in a world I should already know. And I don’t appreciate that some external force could even be responsible for it. Most my day is spent on autopilot. Working is easy. In fact, anything that isn’t sitting in my quarters, thinking, seems easy. ::For a moment, Sabina’s mind went to that place. Her thoughts slipped into the same ones that were there for her in the dark hours of early morning. Her eyes welled with tears as she felt again the same swirl of failure and vulnerability she had been going to bed with each night. The worst of it was that they hadn’t seized Y-rocck. With a small sniffle, and a conscious choice to do so, she thought on the other points he had made, feeling boundaryless and susceptible to any manner of telepathy.:: Tiam: I can’t say that I see telepathic threats more than usual. But I have more experience with telepathy. I have the biological advantage of mutual awareness. In most cases at least… ::Though, it hadn’t made a difference with Y-rocck.:: But I haven’t truly interacted with a telepath since being back either. ::She paused.:: I’m not exactly looking forward to it, but, part of me knows I also need it. ::She gave a defeated chuckle.:: If I get spooked off by telepaths, how will I ever go home? ::It was a terrible thought, not being able to return home. It had been thinking of home that had kept Vance grounded so far. Where did the cost of all of this end?:: Sheridan: I guess it’s something we’re both going to have to come to terms with. ::Some other Federation species were a little less reserved about the use of telepathy, after all. Breaking down on coming into contact with them would be no good and yet Vance couldn’t help but feel he might never be comfortable with that kind of contact again.:: ::Sabina stood, a bit more slowly than usual as she gave some of her muscles a good stretch on the way up. She began collecting their empty glasses, for recycling or for refill she wasn’t exactly sure yet. But she didn’t want to contribute to any untidiness in someone else’s quarters. Especially after Vance’s power cleaning earlier in the evening had given him such a strong start.:: Tiam: ::Changing the subject, she spoke a little more light heartedly, and with a bit of a smirk.:: Can I tell you what I don’t like about counseling? ::Vance spluttered out a shocked laugh. He hadn’t quite expected the conversation to head in that direction, although he could tell well enough that Sabina wasn’t about to slate him.:: Sheridan: Oh, so you’re going to kick me while I’m down now? Tiam: I said counseling, not counselors. ::With that, her trademark smirk was in full force. But her tone settled on something serious as she explained herself.:: There aren’t enough actionable items in counseling. You can spend hours learning about how to look at situations or how difficult circumstances should be framed as we think about them, but sometimes, you leave the room going, “Ok, but what do I do?” ::Feeling she had acceptably tidied the mess she’d brought, Sabina returned to her place on the sofa.:: ::That was an interesting comment and it was something Vance would have to admit that he and a good number of his colleagues regularly fell foul of.:: Sheridan: I’ll definitely bear that in mind. I think that sometimes, we don’t want to interfere too much and end up not quite doing enough. Tiam: Might I make a suggestion for you? ::He wiped his face on his sleeve, having now gained a little more control of himself, then looked at Sabina curiously.:: Sheridan: What’s that? Tiam: There are ways in which, even humans, can develop natural telepathic barriers. I’ll be blunt with you, they’re not magic and wouldn’t stand up to a force like Y-rocck. ::Of course, neither had her own.:: But, it can be comforting to know that you are, at least in some small way, a little more in control of which parts of your mind end up exposed. ::That did sound like a good idea. Whether or not Vance ever ended up using a technique like that, it would make him feel like he had some control over the situation.:: Sheridan: Do you know anyone who can help me with that? ::In fact, he felt like it would be as good as therapy in itself. A dedicated period of time spent taking care of the way he felt, and not by grieving, or feeling sorry for himself, but by doing something positive. He was a positive guy most of the time, not that his experiences on Starbase 118 so far necessarily reflected that.:: Tiam: ::Sabina pursued her lips, thinking.:: I would recommend a Vulcan approach. Which, is not my specialty but, I think it would be the most effective. If I recall correctly, there’s a Vulcan temple on the station that might be of use… But, there’s always the holodeck as well. Plenty of instructional programs available, I’m sure. Sheridan: I’ll give it some thought and see about getting something set up. Are you going to do the same? ::She smiled wearily with a soft sigh.:: Tiam: No, no my issues will require a different approach. ::Sabina didn’t want to go into too much detail, given the counselor’s current relationship to telepaths. But truthfully, more than anything, she would need someone with whose mind she could work, willingly of course. An opportunity to become comfortable in her own abilities again would do wonders, she was sure. Another Betazoid would be ideal, but the likelihood of that chance presenting itself in the near future seemed unlikely.:: Tiam: And a little patience. ::Still, if Vance ever wanted to test his ability to shield his thoughts and feelings, she would be happy to assist. But in the meantime, she would continue to work and play, as she had. And the stinging memories of the Noguwip would, at some point, begin to fade like old scars on thick skin.:: ::There was a brief pause as conversation on the subject petered out. Vance was sure that either one of them could probably have spoken for hours about their experiences on the Noguwip but it was unnecessary. Each had seen what the other had been through, and they had just covered what hadn’t been seen. All Vance knew was that he wasn’t ready to sleep yet, and that he didn’t feel like sitting up on his own. He breathed in slowly and deeply through his nose and rubbed at one of his eyes with the knuckle of his index finger before making a suggestion he hoped would go over well.:: Sheridan: So, do you want to maybe hang out for a while? Do something, you know… normal? I have a bunch of stand up comedy shows from Earth if you’re interested, and I’m pretty sure my replicator still knows how to make ice-cream. ::He would probably need to remind himself how to get his lazy butt down to the gym at this rate, too. Still, in the name of hanging out with a friend rather than moping in a darkened room on his own, sacrifices had to be made.:: Tiam: Normal? What even is that? ::She grinned.:: Yes, I am all for that idea. ::She leaned back, more relaxed now. Sabina felt as though the air between them had been cleared. What happened on the Noguwip was no longer a topic that needed to be tiptoed around. Instead, she felt, the two had come to a place where they could find real solidarity in one another. Now the only matter left to settle was which ice cream flavor would cap off the evening. Though, even that presented a unique challenge…:: Tiam: But I have to admit something… ::A certain playfulness sparkled in her eyes.:: ::Sabina spoke lightheartedly, lest she worry the counselor that another onslaught of emotion was coming.:: Sheridan: Uh-oh… ::He caught the whiff of some ruse or other and made a show of bracing himself behind one of his cushions.:: What is it? Tiam: I haven’t tried ice cream before. ::He dropped the cushion, gaping.:: Sheridan: What the…? How is that even possible? Alright, don’t move a muscle. I’ll be right back with the flavour to end all flavours. ::He hopped up from the sofa and made short work of the trip to the replicator. Maybe falling off the wagon wouldn’t be so bad a thing.:: Sheridan: Computer, give me two bowls of cookie dough ice cream. Large. ::He was yet to encounter someone who didn’t fall in love with that particular vice at first taste but, if the impossible happened, the replicator was right there to provide well over a thousand different back-up plans…:: TBC A JP by PNPC Lieutenant Vance SheridanCounsellorStarbase 118 Ops & Lt. Sabina TiamIntelligence OfficerStarbase 118 Ops

Congrats and welcome to the Fleet!!!!!!

((Starbase 118 Ops: Outside the Chief Counsellor’s Office)) ::Having recently taken care of his annual physical appointment, Chen had taken it upon himself to contact the counselling department and arrange an appointment there, too. Counsellor Sheridan had mentioned something about his schedule being busy, and asked if Chen minded fitting in a little before Alpha shift was due to start. It made sense that there would be heavy traffic after the riots, and Chen didn’t mind accommodating the request one bit. He’d left Greir to sleep a little longer, got himself ready for his shift, and then reported to the counsellor’s office. The time of his appointment had rolled around, but there was no answer to the chime, even after a second try. Deciding that there was a chance there was already an ongoing appointment, Chen gave Counsellor Sheridan the benefit of the doubt. Another ten minutes later, however, and he was starting to wonder whether or not he might have just overslept. He was contemplating contacting him when he caught sight of the teal-collared officer hurrying around the corner. Sheridan staggered to a stop almost as soon as he came into view, bent forward with his hands on his knees while he got his breath back.:: Chen: You OK? Sheridan: Yeah… sorry… overslept. ::Chen wasn’t entirely sure whether or not the human counsellor was red in the face from exertion or from embarrassment. If he’d had to guess, he would have chosen a little of both.:: Sheridan: Sorry, Commander, this is pretty much the first time in my career. I can’t believe I asked you to show up early and then kept you waiting. If you file a report then I wouldn’t be surprised and I’m prepared to accept responsibility for… Chen: Woah, woah, woah!! ::He held up his hands, a little nonplussed.:: I didn’t say I was going to file anything. It’s not like you overslept on purpose, is it? ::The counsellor shook his head. Pulling the rug out from under him seemed to have calmed him down.:: Chen: Alright, so let’s just not worry about it, OK? if you’re having to cram appointments into your free time, you’ve probably been working too hard anyway. Let’s just do what we can do before someone shows up for your next appointment. ::He noted the Terran’s dishevelled hair and the thin layer of stubble that coated his face. It looked like he’d literally heard the time and then sprinted out of his quarters, pulling his uniform on along the way.:: Chen: Did you at least get a chance to eat? ::He suspected that the answer to that question would probably be no.:: Sheridan: No. ::Nailed it.:: Sheridan: I literally heard the time and then sprinted out of my quarters. I had to pull my uniform on along the way. ::It looked like Chen’s observational and deductive skills hadn’t been compromised by the early hour of the appointment. If only most situations were this easy to read. It would save a lot of work.:: Chen: Then if you want to grab some food and eat it while we do the appointment I won’t put you on report for that either. ::Vance took in a deep breath, seeming to consider what Chen had said, and then cracked a smile. Chen’s eyes returned it. The most important thing to him was that he took care of his evaluation. Both he and the counsellor had a full shift to take care of after this, and starting the day in a panic wouldn’t do either of them any good.:: ::The counsellor keyed in his access code and activated the door mechanism.:: Sheridan: Have you ever considered a career in teal, Sir? ::Chen’s eyebrows lifted and his antennae twisted towards each other. The only person he felt he’d ever supported in that way was Greir, after he’d lost his hearing, and the way things had worked out suggested that he had done at least a passable job. Aside from that, his partner was really the one who knew how to handle their friends’ personal problems.:: Chen: I think I would probably just end up making more work for the other members of the department after a while. I’ll stick to black if it’s all the same. ::He followed Sheridan into the room, finding a seat while the counsellor replicated himself a drink and some breakfast. When offered a drink himself, Chen passed. He’d not long had breakfast himself, and he intended to pick up a cup of something when he got to his office.:: Sheridan: OK, so this is just a basic annual evaluation. It shouldn’t be too strenuous. ::Chen couldn’t remember a counselling appointment that he had considered strenuous. Maybe he’d been lucky with the counsellors he’d seen, but he’d never really developed the aversion to this kind of appointment that some of his colleagues had.:: Chen: I’m glad to hear it. I was hoping it would be pretty routine. ::Vance stuffed part of a maple syrup coated pancake into his mouth and nodded, answering in a slightly muffled voice before swallowing.:: Sheridan: We sfaa wi your pwofai… ::Chen’s eyes narrowed and his antennae tipped forwards as he tried to figure out what the counsellor was trying to say.:: Sheridan: ::Swallowing:: Sorry, we’ll start with your profile. I’m not seeing anything major flagged up on here, but I’d like to take a quick look back through your records to make sure we don’t let anything slip through the cracks. ::Chen waited patiently while the counsellor reviewed the notes on a PADD with one hand and wolfed down his breakfast with the other. More than likely, he would have done it before they met up, had he been awake on time. Watching him for his reaction, the Andorian took note when his eyes opened a little wider and he squinted down at the PADD, seeming to read and re-read one of the sections a couple of times. Finally, he pushed his plate to one side and looked back up.:: Sheridan: OK. ::He shuffled back in his seat, giving Chen his full attention.:: How have you been lately? You recently transferred here from Deep Space 6, right? ::Chen nodded. The counsellor’s tone had changed and there was no doubt he had switched into professional mode, but his bed hair slightly ruined that image.:: Chen: That’s right. Things have been good lately and I’m excited to be here. Sheridan: This is a promotion for you too. What are you looking forward to most about your new assignment? ::Where did he begin? Chen could feel pride filling his chest again as he thought about it, and that bled through into his answer.:: Chen: Everything. Literally everything. I’ve never worked in a department with so many top of the range resources before, and this has come with a considerable boost to my clearance level, my own staff, the chance to re-establish some of my old contacts… it’s as close to a dream job as you could ever get. ::The counsellor smiled as he heard the enthusiastic response. Clearly there weren’t going to be any issues with motivation or settling in. He made a quick note of Chen’s response before moving to the next item on his agenda.:: Sheridan: It looks like someone made an observation that they were worried about your work-life balance a few years ago. How do you feel things are with that now? ::Chen remembered his work-obsessive days aboard the USS Echo well. He’d worked every hour he could physically stay awake for following an undercover mission on Nelvaer IV, a Romulan-controlled world, and he had nearly driven himself to exhaustion, all in his pursuit of excellence and a promotion to full lieutenant. Ironically, he had only really started to see results after his department head, Commander Cathleen McCrae, had sat him down to point out that his brain needed recovery time. “Officers at breaking point are no use to me,” she had told him, which had initially left him feeling confused and unfairly rebuffed, but had eventually sunk in.:: Chen: I think they’re pretty good, honestly. I transferred here with my fiancé, so every time I finish a shift and he gets home we get to spend time together. We sometimes just chill out, sometimes spend time on the holodeck, maybe do a bit of work around the quarters now and again when it needs it, or occasionally we’ll do separate things with other friends. We’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about our wedding lately. We’re just making some adjustments after the move. ::Talking to Lieutenant Commander Chen was having a very comforting effect on Vance. Listening to him talk so enthusiastically about all the things that were going right in his life and conversing with someone whose routine hadn’t been split in half by the riots was hugely refreshing.:: Sheridan: Well congratulations to you both. So you have something to look forward to when you go home, which is pretty much as much as any of us could really wish for, but are you sticking to standard shifts? Do you anticipate the whole being the chief of a big department thing taking up more of your time? Chen: I think I can manage it. ::In his experience, counsellors were more likely to believe that particular statement if you could show them that you had, in fact, already been managing it.:: I think I’ve fallen into quite a good routine, work wise. I work my shift, sometimes I might go in maybe an hour early if things are going to be busy during the day, then I come home at the end of the shift. Then I get to spend time with my awesome future husband until the point we both turn in for the night. He’s Laudean, so he needs more sleep than I do, so I take a short rest, then if I need to go take care of a few more things in the lab, or if there’s something else I want to do I get up again, figure everything out, then head back to get the sleep I need. Then we wake up together, and the cycle repeats. ::He scratched an eyebrow as he thought about whether or not that covered all of the bases. He realised it probably didn’t.:: Chen: Obviously if we entered into some kind of emergency scenario, the routine might have to change. Greir, my fiancé, is ex-Starfleet himself. He was a captain right up until we moved here, so he understands the work life balance. He was a counsellor before that. ::Vance grinned. This particular officer was under the thumb, then, as far as counselling appointments and taking advice went.:: Chen: Oh, no. No no. Stop looking like you’re going to set up some kind of hotline to him or something. ::The grin became a full on laugh. Chen was certainly sharp. The idea of contacting his partner to do some home therapy if ever he became a difficult patient was too funny, though.:: Chen: Do not make me order you. Seriously. ::He started chuckling himself.:: Sheridan: To be honest, I think that probably answers one of the other questions I had on my list. Chen: Oh? What’s that? ::Vance cleared his throat and settled himself down. The next point on his agenda was absolutely no laughing matter whatsoever.:: Sheridan: You’ve had an eventful career, it seems, and there’s reference in your file to you having lost a foot, and then you were fitted with a biosynthetic replacement. I can’t see anything at all in here that documents any regular counselling appointments during the time you were recovering. That’s a pretty traumatic event to have to live through so either you’re exceptionally mentally strong, or the fact you were seeing a counsellor… as in seeing a counsellor at the time meant you were effectively getting care around the clock. ::Chen took in a slow, deep breath and looked down at his right foot. Most of the time now, he barely even thought of it as anything other than his own, he’d grown so used to it. The memories he had of his old one getting crushed in an emergency escape hatch were unpleasant. He didn’t usually feel the need to throw up his guard in counselling appointments, but he made a conscious effort to keep his antennae from moving to hide the unpleasant emotions that his thoughts had stirred up.:: Chen: Greir was absolutely invaluable back then. If not for him, I don’t know how I would have got through it. We’d recently been through a bad patch in our relationship, but everything that happened put things into very clear perspective. We almost lost each other that day. He was in the tunnel, too, and he could easily have drowned. My foot was crushed because I was trying to stop his head from being caught in more of those emergency bulkheads just a little further up the tunnel. ::He paused for a moment, clearing his throat.:: We helped each other through what happened. I think the fact that we were picking up our relationship where we left off, as well as all the help and support that Greir gave me were instrumental in my recovery. He helped me to keep everything so close to my normal life from before. Of course there were two or three things that I had to do differently, but he kept my mind off everything a lot of the time. I think, in situations like that, making sure you keep a hold of your normal life is really important. ::Vance nodded his understanding. Chen’s last sentence sank into him; as usual, a session with one of his patients had provided him with some advice that was frighteningly relevant to his own life. Meanwhile, even though there was no movement in the commander’s antennae, he’d seen some of the colour drain from his face when he’d tackled the subject of his foot.:: Sheridan: Thank you for being so detailed. I think it’s a very healthy thing that you’re able to talk about it. I’m going to go ahead and make a really clear note in the files here that you did receive treatment, so no-one should ask you about it again in the future. Chen: Thanks. ::He blew out a breath, glad that the matter seemed to be dealt with. Vance put his PADD down on the arm of his chair, about done with everything that he needed to ask.:: Sheridan: So, is there anything else that you wanted to talk about? ::Those antennae quickly picked up and Chen became a beacon of relief.:: Chen: I don’t think so. Nothing that springs to mind. ::Vance rose from his seat and extended a hand in the Andorian’s direction.:: Sheridan: Well in that case, Commander, you’re all clear for duty. And, uh… thanks again for being understanding about me oversleeping and letting me eat and stuff. I really appreciate that. I’ve got a very long day ahead. ::Chen accepted the human’s handshake - that was one thing he had never had a choice about assimilating into his repertoire. It seemed to be just as much a Starfleet tradition now as a human one.:: Chen: No problem, but remember you were grilling me pretty hard about work life balance. There has to be someone who can help you or a way for you to make sure you get a break. ::Vance listened to Chen’s advice and felt it hit home. He knew he was right. He didn’t know if he was going to act on what he was saying, though. Things would fix themselves in the end.:: Sheridan: I am seriously going to replicate you a teal shirt if you’re not careful, Sir, but thanks. I will take that into consideration. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day. ::Chen looked at Vance through smiling eyes one last time before turning to leave. As counselling sessions went, it hadn’t been so bad. He just hoped that no-one else caught the counsellor oversleeping, and that he would adjust his schedule to make sure he would get enough rest that it wouldn’t happen again.:: TBC Lieutenant Commander Chen Chief Intelligence Officer Starbase 118 Ops & PNPC Lieutenant Vance Sheridan Counsellor Starbase 118 Ops

Richard Matthews: Taybrim: =/\= This is a courtesy reminder to Ensign Pon Pon, Lieutenants Matthews, Sheridan and Gilaars. Meeting in the captain's ready room in fifteen minutes. =/\= :: The actual hellz? Try as he might, Richard could only draw a blank at a scheduled meeting. This though he couldn't ignore, well he could, and he could possibly get away with it if he bribed Page with genuine tea - with real grown tea leaves and not the replicated stuff. But it would be more of an effort getting his hands on that and trying to attempt bribing a superior (not to mention kind of illegal) so he'd just get up and deal . . . there was always the rest of shore leave to be a lump.:: Matthews: Ugh, I've got to get up now. ::So saying he rolled, he rolled right off of his couch and onto his hands and knees.:: Alright, I'm off the couch, now the getting up part should be easier. ____________________________________________ YES PLEASE!!!!

::Foreshadowing senses tingling!:: Muwahahahaahaha!!!

(( Promenade - Keal’s Pub; Starbase 118 )) ::It had taken a bit to fully coordinate, but Nathan had managed to get the repairs to his pub completed in short order. Kaitlyn had even pitched in where she could between shifts; he’d always been a good friend, and she was happy to help. It also gave her a good opportunity to make sure the gang were all okay, as well. It seemed they’d all managed to weather the storm.:: ::Now in civvies, consisting of blue jeans and a short-sleeved purple blouse, Kaitlyn grabbed one of the bar stools to relax and enjoy the establishment.:: ::She’d barely had time to get situated when a mug of hot chai appeared before her. Kaitlyn looked up to see Vera’s smiling face. The shen gestured to the mug.:: Yanis-Keal: Well, go on. Give it a try. ::Kaitlyn chuckled. She’d introduced Vera to chai back when she’d been working with her brother, and the shen had quickly grown a taste for it. Her more adventurous side lead her to develop new flavor combinations for the tea, and Kaitlyn quickly became her favorite guinea pig. Kaitlyn lifted the mug, raised it in a classic ‘toast’ gestures, and took a sip.:: ::It was… interesting, to say the least. It had a couple types of flavored syrup added. Kaitlyn let the flavors mix for a moment… One was… peanut butter, and the other… some sort of chocolate? Kaitlyn finally swallowed the sip, giving an approving nod.:: Falcon: Nice. Very smooth, and a good mix. Peanut butter, and…? Yanis-Keal: Andorian white chocolate. Took a bit of work to get a syrup that matched it, but I thought it might give a good bite. ::Kaitlyn nodded, taking another sip. Vera certainly had the bite part right. Now that Kaitlyn knew what she was looking for, she could taste it immediately.:: Falcon: Well, I approve. ::Smiles.:: Got a name for it yet? Yanis-Keal: Not sure… I’ll think on that. ::Smiles back.:: That one’s on the house, in thanks for all the help. ::Kaitlyn lifted the mug once more, this time in thanks.:: Falcon: Hey, I’m always happy to lend a hand. ::Vera’s antenna flicked to one side, toward another patron. The shen looked over to him, then back to Kaitlyn.:: Yanis-Keal: Hey, I’ll check back in a bit, okay? Falcon: ::Smiles and nods.:: Sure thing. I’ll be here. ::Vera stepped away from the bar, starting over toward the other patron in need. Kaitlyn turned around in her stool, leaning back against the bar as she took another sip of her chai, giving another approving nod. Yep, this blend could work just fine.:: Sheridan: Commander Falcon! ::The computer never failed Vance Sheridan. Few people knew he was in league with it, but he’d been using its ability to locate people to devastating effect lately, dragging in officers who were overdue for their annual psych evaluation, striking like an Arcturan sky cobra when they least expected it. Today’s target was Kaitlyn Falcon, who had managed to escape the counsellor’s chair for rather longer than she should have. There was a note on her file that seemed to indicate attitude problems and issues with interacting with counsellors, which Vance found interesting. He’d decided, as he usually did in these cases, that he was going to make up his own mind.:: ::The shout came more as a cheerful greeting than anything else. He waved from a little way across the pub, wearing a smile characteristic of an officer who had just met a colleague and was interested in joining them for a drink. The way she was relaxing did not seem characteristic of a trouble maker.:: ::Kaitlyn looked up at the shout, quickly recognizing the man from their brief encounter in C&C. He was their new counselor, if she recalled correctly. She’d also heard about just how bad things had been over on Noguwip, and that he was up and about spoke well of his toughness. She returned his wave, giving a small smile. While he didn’t appear to be on business, past experience had forced her to be a bit… wary around counselors.:: ::She’d been surprised by them in bad ways too many times…:: ::Sheridan finished his approach, Kaitlyn making sure he had room at the bar. Regardless of what had happened before, Kaitlyn could prove she’d learned how to be cordial.:: Falcon: ::Nod of greeting.:: Sheridan. It’s good to see you up and about. What brings you by? Sheridan: I finally managed to catch a break between appointments, so I figured this would be a good place to come to get a drink. What do you have there? ::He leaned on the bar next to her, preferring not to take a seat just yet. There was a chance that rumours of his dawn raids on unsuspecting therapy-dodgers might have reached her ears, and that forcing her into a situation where she felt like she was being analysed might not be a good idea.:: ::Kaitlyn took another sip of the interestingly flavored tea.:: Falcon: Hot chai, a sweet and spicy tea. Sheridan: Would you recommend it? ::Kaitlyn smiled, giving a light chuckle and a nod of her head.:: Falcon: Oh, yes. I always recommend people try it at least once. ::Vance looked at the bartender, pointing at Kaitlyn’s cup.:: Sheridan: Hi. Could I get one of whatever those is? ::Nathan stopped mid stride, looking over Kaitlyn’s shoulder at the mug, then over to her.:: Keal: Chai? Falcon: Yep. I’d recommend starting him with vanilla; nothing too crazy. Keal: You got it. ::While he was waiting for his drink to be prepared, Vance turned his attention back to the mission at hand. He wanted to just talk to Falcon to see if he could figure out what these issues with counsellors were supposed to be, without mentioning them directly. There weren’t many immediate pieces of common ground that he could think of, so he shot with something obvious.:: Sheridan: So, I’ve not been here for long enough yet to figure out which are the best places to go to when I’m off duty. I feel like this is a good choice… are you a regular here? Falcon: Well, it’s one of the best places on the station, in my opinion. Although the owners have been friends of mine and my sister’s for years, so I might be biased. ::Points to a table in the far corner.:: In my pre-’Fleet days, that table was reserved for my brother and me whenever we were in the sector. So, I’d say I’m a bit of a regular. ::Vance looked across to the table that Kaitlyn was pointing at. Being a regular was one thing, having a table reserved for you was another.:: Sheridan: So what caught your eye about this pub in particular? Falcon: The place has a good atmosphere. It’s calm, relaxing, good-natured. All the folks working here are great people. I love catching up with Nathan and Vera whenever I get the chance. ::It had to be pretty good having non-fleet friends that you could visit and forget about everything the uniform brought with it.:: Sheridan: So is that the reason why they stock chai? ::You could get hold of chai from any replicator, but the real stuff was probably much nicer.:: Falcon: No. My twin sister is the reason they started carrying chai. She was chief engineer here when Nathan was setting this place up, lended a hand a few times after he nearly crushed himself under a shipment of furniture. As part of his thanks, and after finding out it was her favorite drink, he made sure to keep a good supply of the best spiced chai he could get his hands on. ::Smiles, lifting up her mug slightly.:: Still does, to this day. Sheridan: Kind of like a family tradition, then? I call that good customer service. ::Kaitlyn smiled, giving a light chuckle.:: Falcon: I suppose so. Certainly scored him a few loyal customers, I can tell you that. ::Movement nearby caught Kaitlyn’s eye, watching as Nathan returned with a second mug of chai and set it before Sheridan.:: Keal: Sir, your chai. ::Vance took the drink from him, smiling, and took a moment to enjoy the aroma of the spiced tea. Chai wasn’t difficult to get hold of on Earth, but he’d never really dabbled with it before, so this would be a first.:: Sheridan: Thanks. This is kind of a landmark. First cup of chai. D’you want to stick around for the momentous first sip? ::Nathan leaned back against the counter, giving a smile.:: Keal: Sure. I’m always curious about a ‘first taste’ reaction. ::The Canadian grinned, visions of him burning his mouth and having to be rushed back to sickbay running through his mind.:: Sheridan: OK, here goes… ::He lifted the cup to his mouth, blowing on one corner of the drink to cool it before taking a quick slurp - just enough to taste it, but not enough cause any pain.:: ::Kaitlyn and Nathan each waited a moment, then spoke almost in unison.:: Falcon: Well? Keal: So? Sheridan: You know what, that’s good. You might want to be careful, Commander, or you might have some competition for the chai reserves. ::Kaitlyn laughed, shaking her head. Nathan put on a look of mock offense.:: Keal: Pah! As if I could let such a travesty occur; running out of chai. ::Smiles.:: I’ll just have to stock more. Falcon: ::Chuckles.:: You won’t hear me complaining. ::Nathan chuckled as well, giving Kaitlyn a pat on her shoulder.:: Keal: Well, I’m back at it. You two have fun, okay? ::The bartender went back to work, leaving Vance and Kaitlyn to talk. Deciding that the moment had passed for the helmswoman to get spooked and flee the bar, Vance hopped up onto the free bar stool.:: Sheridan: I’ll be honest, it’s good to catch a break after all the excitement on the promenade recently. I came pretty close to forgetting what the station outside my office looked like. Falcon: Well, until recently, you really didn’t miss much. There was a lot to repair, out there. ::Kaitlyn gave a soft sigh, taking another sip of her chai as she leaned back against the bar.:: Falcon: Hell of a lot of fighting out there… I’m not sure how much you saw of it, but it’s not something I’d wish on anyone. ::Vance clearly remembered seeing Kaitlyn doing her level best to empty the power packs of her phasers into the alien entity on the promenade. Considering the creature had shrugged off nearly everything that they had thrown at it, Vance had been very glad for that. Any crew needed people who knew how to handle themselves in a combat situation.:: Sheridan: I should probably thank you for giving that creature hell like you did. I know other people were firing too, me included, but I think your resolve rubbed off on us. ::Kaitlyn actually managed a small smile at that. She couldn’t tell him how she’d managed to build up such a strong and sudden resolve, of course. It was probably one of the only positive effects of that particular part of her life, of those old battles.:: Falcon: I’m glad to have done some good. It was a bit of a gamble, trying to keep my focus where it needed to be. If it also helped everyone else keep their focus, then it was worth it. ::Kaitlyn paused a moment in thought. On the one hand, she didn’t want to dwell on the past events any longer than necessary. On the other… she wanted to make sure Sheridan was okay.:: Falcon: I heard that things on Noguwip were… difficult. If you ever need an ear, I’d be happy to help. ::The oddity of her offering to listen to a counselor wasn’t exactly lost on her, though she kept it from her features. They hadn’t spoken for long, but what she’d seen so far suggested Sheridan was alright. That, or he was a good actor. Regardless, she wanted to make the offer.:: ::Vance appreciated the offer, but wasn’t really in a place where he wanted to talk about the Noguwip at that point. He’d already broken the ice on it with Commander Taybrim, and he felt like he needed a decent period of time to heal before he touched on it again. Still, it was nice to know that the crew were so friendly.:: Sheridan: That’s very kind, but could we maybe uh… iksnay on the Oguwipnay? ::He smiled sheepishly:: I’d like to pretend that particular episode was just a very bad dream. Falcon: ::Nods.:: Happier topics. Agreed, wholeheartedly. So, where are you from, originally? Falcon: ::Nods.:: Happier topics. Agreed, wholeheartedly. So, where are you from, originally? ::That was a much happier topic. Vance picked up his chai and settled down more comfortably on his seat.:: Sheridan: I’m from Whitehorse in Yukon. Grew up there with a pretty big family who’ve spread themselves out over most of Earth, and a little bit beyond. ::He cracked a smile again.:: It also comes with the added benefit of thinking it’s pretty warm on starships and starbases most of the time. Every day is T-shirt weather! ::That was, of course, rather a large exaggeration. Yukon was not known for being particularly warm, but it was hardly like living under one of the Andorian poles.:: ::Kaitlyn gave an understanding nod and smile. Ships and stations had always felt a little cool to her, but she’d always liked it.:: Falcon: Were you close with them? Sheridan: We were pretty close growing up, yeah. I’m the middle kid of five, actually, so I had an older sister and brother to make sure I wasn’t getting into trouble, and a younger brother and sister to keep an eye on myself. ::He swigged his chai, enjoying the combination of sweet and spicy even more now that it was a little cooler.:: Jonny is the only other one of us who will be joining Starfleet. He’s in his final year at the academy. Falcon: ::Smiles.:: Oh? Does he have a path in mind? Sheridan: He’ll be a security officer. He’ll be a good one, too. He was always very disciplined. Kept to a strict routine. I had to teach him how to unwind a couple times. ::He smirked. They had been counsellor and security officer even back when they were kids, it seemed.:: Falcon: ::Laughs.:: It’s such an underappreciated skill. ::Smiles.:: ::Sharing stories about family was always fun. Vance was curious if Kaitlyn had any of her own to share.:: Sheridan: So how about you? You mentioned your sister. Are you from a big family? Falcon: Big enough. Two sisters; one older, the other’s my paternal twin, and one brother, the eldest, plus mom and dad. ::It sounded like their clans were of comparable sizes.:: Sheridan: Whereabouts did you grow up? Falcon: We were all Starfleet brats. Our parents met on the U.S.S. Freedom-A, and we were all born there. We looked out for each other, and found various ways to keep amused on a starship. Usually without getting into too much trouble. ::He laughed. He could imagine just how much hot water a group of four children could get into aboard a starship. You could probably write an entire series of children’s books about it.:: Sheridan: I guess that explains why you ended up in one of these uniforms. Did many more of you make the same career choice? Falcon: Actually, most of us went Starfleet. Both my sisters joined as soon as they were old enough, though my brother decided to stick with a civilian life. He went and got himself a freighter and started making a name for himself. Sheridan: Kind of the black sheep of the bunch, eh? ::He could understand why her brother might have had a desire to be a little different, although that didn’t necessarily have to be the main appeal to remaining a civilian.:: ::Kaitlyn paused for a moment, considering that particular phrase. James had always been the odd one of the bunch, excepting Kaitlyn’s flip-flop of career choices, but ‘black sheep’? Falcon: Hmm… I wouldn’t put it that far. He’s never done anything that would worry our folks. Really, the only people he’s crossed paths with in a bad way are either Orion Syndicate or your standard issue swindlers. Sheridan: So, do you see him often? Which region of space is he based in? Falcon: I see him whenever I can. He doesn’t have any particular region he stays in, though he tries to stay close to wherever the family is assigned. ::It sounded like the Falcons all kept in touch, anyway. It had been a little while since Vance had last called home and spoken to his own folks. He didn’t plan on doing it any time soon, either. Not until he had some good news for them.:: Sheridan: Well, if he’s ever around on the station, or any of the rest of the family for that matter, you let me know if people are meeting for chai, OK? ::Kaitlyn nodded. She’d been meaning to try to pull everyone together into a family reunion. Being on the base, it might well be a good time for that.:: Falcon: ::Smiles.:: Sure will. ::As the exchange of stories drew to a close, and Vance’s mug came closer to being empty, he decided they were in a good enough place to pick up on official business.:: Sheridan: So, believe it or not, I’m actually a little disappointed about something work-related, that maybe you can help me figure out. ::Kaitlyn nodded, leaning forward.:: Falcon: Sure thing. How can I help? ::The counsellor dropped his voice and leaned in a little closer. It wouldn’t do for anyone to overhear the piece of confidential information that he was about to bring up.:: Sheridan: Your file says that you kill counsellors. Like, stone dead. I almost turned up here to talk to you in body armour, just in case… ::Really it was a little risky joking about that but, having taken some time talking to Kaitlyn about issues that weren’t work-related first to make an effort to actually get to know her, it seemed more appropriate than bringing the matter up seriously. He felt like she would actually respond in a positive way.:: ::Kaitlyn leaned back, giving a slightly amused snort. That was certainly an interesting way to bring it up… Kaitlyn had been wondering exactly how Sheridan would broach that particular subject. She hadn’t worked with him long enough to completely gauge him, but she was willing to let him run for a moment.:: Falcon: Oh, really? Sheridan: If, you know, you could maybe tell me how you managed to dispose of the bodies without anyone knowing then I’m pretty sure we could submit something to the Federation News Service and make ourselves famous. Like, some kind of team of crime busters or something. ::The suggestion, while still hushed, was theatrically conspiratorial.:: ::Kaitlyn’s response came out somewhat dry; not overly joking, but not overly annoyed, either.:: Falcon: You’d be surprised how effective replicators are at destroying things. Sheridan: ::Laughing to himself:: Seriously, though, you should take a minute to drop by my office when you have time. You’re overdue your review and I don’t think either of us is going to find one of those routine check-ups too difficult. ::He lowered his voice again.:: Besides, if you do then I think I can probably put the record straight on your file. I’m not really seeing the reason why it’s there in the first place… ::He hoped that he’d proven to her that he wasn’t going to be some kind of overbearing psychiatric type who peered at her through magnifying goggles, scribbling on a clipboard and shining a light in her eyes.:: ::At first, Kaitlyn was tempted to tell him exactly how difficult those routine check-ups could be. She’d gone through it, after all, and was not particularly interested in repeating the experience. That last part, though, intrigued her.:: ::To date, she’d had an XO who considered her a liar, one counselor who responded to the issue with a lecture, and a second counselor who felt her desire to carry a weapon warranted accusal that she distrusted security forces.:: ::Sheridan’s jokes suggested that he’d actually read her file, and his comments suggested he was looking past them. If he was willing to do that… then maybe she’d be willing to give him a chance.:: ::Finally, thoughts gathered, Kaitlyn gave a slow nod.:: Falcon: Okay. I’ll give it a shot. ::Well, that was certainly a relief.:: Sheridan: Thanks. I’m glad. Falcon: You’ve read my file. I’m sure you know my feelings on it. But, you’re willing to keep an open mind, so I’ll do the same. ::Vance nodded enthusiastically. As far as he was concerned, there was no need for the session to be confrontational, and he doubted that things would be as bad as Kaitlyn might have thought.:: Sheridan: I appreciate that. Really, I don’t see why it has to be any different to the conversation we had today… only there’ll be less people around. I could even provide chai… although it’d be replicated and probably not quite as good as here. Falcon: I’ve actually got a few blends programmed in that aren’t too bad. ::The counsellor smiled, feeling like he had managed to make a good deal of headway.:: Sheridan: OK, well I need to swing back to the office, but it was good meeting you. I’ll hopefully see you around some time. ::He intended that to mean outside the counselling office. Kaitlyn was friendly, easy to talk to and didn’t mind sharing a laugh and a joke. That seemed to be a running theme among most of the staff here.:: Falcon: I’m not usually hard to find. ::Admittedly, Kaitlyn’s demeanor had slightly cooled, but she was still cordial. Sheridan really was making an effort to be accommodating, though he was fighting a bit of an uphill battle. She managed a small smile, touching two fingers to her temple in a friendly salute.:: Falcon: Good meeting you, too. ::Vance mirrored the salute. He didn’t expect Kaitlyn to be overexcited about the prospect of a counselling appointment given what had been penned in her files, but it looked like more of a case of two, or three or four tangoing than just Kaitlyn causing problems. Once they had a dialogue going and he’d built up a little trust, maybe he would be able to find out more about what had gotten her written into her previous counsellors’ bad books but, until then, he was happy just to make sure she was clear for duty. He headed towards the exit, already thinking about his next appointment. It was really too bad he couldn’t stick around for another chai.:: TBC A JP by Lieutenant Commander Kaitlyn FalconChief Helm OfficerStarbase 118 Ops/USS Albion & PNPC Lieutenant Vance SheridanCounsellorStarbase 118 Ops SIMmed by: Lieutenant Commander Chen

((Starbase 118: Executive Officer’s Office)) ::Vance stood outside Commander Taybrim’s office, listening to the sound of his own pulse in his ears. He didn’t usually get nervous about being on the receiving end of a counselling session, but then they were usually just routine check ups. In this case, he knew he was going to have to confront a number of unpleasant things, and he wasn’t looking forward to it at all. Fortunately, the starbase’s first officer had graciously agreed to slot a session into his busy schedule, which meant that Vance had been spared from speaking to a member of his own department. He trusted in their abilities, of course, but there was a part of him that felt like talking to them would make things difficult for him in the long run. He didn’t want to risk giving himself a complex about seeing one of his colleagues around and about in the corridors if this ended up taking more than one session.:: ::Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door chime and waited to be called inside.:: Taybrim: Enter ::Vance walked through the doors, feeling as though his legs were pulling against elastic restraints. He made an attempt at a cheerful salute.:: Sheridan: Hello, Commander. Thanks for agreeing to see me. ::Sal nodded, gazing up placidly from the stack of reports he had on his desk. The office was tidy, neatly set with various stacks of work in organized piles. The walls and flat surfaces were decorated with a relaxing array of pictures and pieces of artwork, some of which Sal had chosen for the lovely moods they created (things that had decorated his office as a counselor) and some that were sentimental - brought back from various shore leaves or gifted from friends. There were holopics of his family from several years ago on Betazed, mementos from former crewmates, and one small rather humorous trophy for the ‘Academy Classic Mini Golf Championship’ of 2388. The whole room smelled of orange, cinnamon and a faint lingering note of pepper, owing to Sal’s beverage of choice.:: Taybrim: I’m glad to have a chance to talk. ::he gestured to one of the open chairs:: Please be seated. Can I get you anything to drink? ::Vance sat down, taking a deep breath and sitting on his hands to keep from giving away exactly how nervous he was.:: Sheridan: I was going to ask for a coffee, but it smells really orangey in here. Is it from herbal tea? Taybrim: Rigellian orange cider. ::A faint grin:: I only drink coffee on special occasions. Or high stress occasions. In the region of Betazed where I grew up, citrus fruits were very popular. They’re more astringent on Betazed, though - almost medicinal. So when I found other planets had citrus, I was hooked. ::he chuckled:: I suppose I can think of worse things to be attracted to. ::He had a point. It was easy to drink too much coffee when you were in an office job, or at least the office-based part of a Starfleet officer’s duties. Herbal tea was much better for you, and could hardly be described as a vice.:: Sheridan: You’re right. I think I’d like to add some citrus to my life as well, please. ::In all honesty, Vance had already drunk enough coffee in the past few days that he was surprised he wasn’t suffering from a major outbreak of the jitters. Anything that could help him to relax would be most welcome.:: ::Two mugs materialized into the replicator pad. Sal had tweaked his favorite into several versions, and while his normal morning brew had a combination of sweet orange and the slow burn of pepper in it, the one he opted for was mellower, tinged with a hint of honey and a bit of cinnamon and ircan root for a ginger like heat without a burn. He offered the first mug over towards Vance, retaining the second:: ::As they settled, Sal leaned back, slowly shifting from his executive officer hat into his well worn counselor skin. When he had first started his career he had agonized about shifting departments, several times. But as things went on, he started to appreciate this breadth of skills, even if his depth in any one area was lean. There were many skills from his past assignments that he valued - and this was one of them.:: Taybrim: How have you been, since the aftermath of the riots? ::His voice was even, with an undercurrent of empathy. There had been so much work that was done in the last few days, he expected the majority of the crew was feeling drained - none so much as those committed to keeping everyone sane:: ::Vance took in a long, slow deep breath. He could pointlessly stall for time, (“Fine, everything has been going OK, I just wanted some advice on maintaining work/life balance…”) or he could do what he knew he had come here to do and tell the truth. His session with Sabina the day before had opened his eyes to the fact that he needed to offload some of his problems and stop them from growing into something bigger. This was his chance.:: Sheridan: Uhh, not so good, actually. I experienced some things that were pretty unpleasant and made some calls that I’m really not so proud of. Kind of to the point where I really feel like I failed to do my duty… so I’ve been burying myself in appointments to make sure I have to focus on other people rather than myself. Taybrim: ::Ginger brows knit together for a few moments, considering the admission. It wasn’t unusual for a counselor to bury themselves in work for various reasons. Though it was quite perceptive of Sheridan to parse out the reasons for his actions. His true question was on how Sheridan felt he had failed, when by all official reports he had done quite well. But first things first. Deal with the thick layer of pain that was coating the delicate feelings of self doubt.:: Experiencing the unpleasant I understand all too clearly. Have you talked about is before now? ::Vance shrugged, and looked in the direction of one of the pictures hanging on the wall without really focusing on it.:: Sheridan: No. I’ve been avoiding it. ::He looked down into his own lap.:: The stuff that happened, particularly on the Noguwip, isn’t like anything I’ve ever experienced before and I guess I was just hoping I’d get over it without having to talk to anyone. ::He looked up, wearing a resigned smile. That was the kind of behaviour he tended to gently admonish some of his patients for. It was easier to overlook when you were the guilty party, though.:: Taybrim: ::Open, coaxing:: What happened on the Noguwip? ::There was a pause as Vance tried to decide where he should start. Should he ease himself in with recounting the tale of being given the choice of watching a colleague have their head cut open by a circular saw or flashburning half of his own torso? Or the humiliating experience of having a telepathic being sifting through his thoughts and memories like choices on a replicator menu? He could feel anger starting to bubble up inside him and he tensed up, fingers clenching tighter around the handle of his mug.:: Sheridan: The… uh… the captain, of the Noguwip. His name was Y-rocck. He looked like a snake. No limbs, just this long body, with some kind of grotesque mask, almost like a clown. He said something about that entity that caused the riots being a demon, and that we all had to be cleansed. ::Sal’s own telepathy was weak, it came and went like waves lapping upon a shore as a result of youthful overconfidence and 100mA of electricity running through his body. But his empathy was still fairly strong. The tension is Vance’s form did not go unnoticed, nor did the sudden blackening of the emotional timbre in the room. In response the little ginger haired man seemed to radiate calmness, like a port of solace in a tempestuous ocean.:: Taybrim: ::Nodding understanding:: Go on. Sheridan: He did something to stop us from beaming out. Set up a dampening field, or raised the ship’s shields or something. Then he started questioning us about the girl. I thought he was trying to find out what we knew about her, but now I think he was trying to find out how much contact we’d had with her. Only he didn’t do it by asking us questions. Taybrim: ::Brows furrowed, the implications of that statement were dark and clear. Still, Vance needed to talk this out.:: What happened? Sheridan: I saw it happen to Lieutenant Tiam first. Y-rocck was telepathic. He forced his way into her mind. Ambassador Calderan warned him that he needed to stop, but he just carried on. When he was done with her, she told us she was alright, but I didn’t have any time to worry about it before it was my turn. ::He abandoned his mug, leaving it on the table, and sank into his seat, wrapping his arms around himself, fists clenched around handfuls of uniform on each of his sides. He wanted to look at Taybrim and actually tell him the story, but his eyes wouldn’t lift higher than the rim of the table in front of him.:: Taybrim: ::Despite his calm demeanor, Sal’s teeth clenched. He knew that pose. He had not only seen it before, he had lived through it. For a moment his eyes closed, giving the man a second to steel himself. When he spoke, his voice was low, filled with kindness, and yet the sort of firmness one didn’t back away from:: What did he do? Sheridan: He… he sifted through my recent memories. Reporting aboard the starbase. A conversation with Sabina in the turbolift. ::His words became more rapid.:: I could feel him digging around in my head, and I tried really hard to take control by thinking of a memory from school but the next thing I knew I was stood in the playground with a bunch of people pointing and laughing. I mean, I don’t even care about the memory - that kind of thing didn’t happen very often and it was a long time ago, but it was him just showing me a fraction of what he could do if I tried to stand up to him. I know that was a fraction. ::He could feel his anger and frustration intensifying, and he was talking past a lump in his throat now.:: Sheridan: It was like waving away an insect or something, and it took him no effort to just reach in and take control of my mind… ::He turned his face away and used the heel of his palm to intercept a hot tear before it could escape his eye, half hoping that the XO wouldn’t see it. He knew there was no way he would have missed it, though, especially seeing as there were more coming.:: Sheridan: God, this is embarrassing… ::He was referring to the fact that he couldn’t even keep control of his own emotions more than anything else. Control wasn’t something he was going to be allowed to have, apparently.:: Taybrim: It is not. ::He replied simply, letting that hang there for a moment before explaining:: Embarrassment implies your reaction is either wrong or foolish, when it is neither. Your reaction is natural and understandable, and I see no weakness in it. ::His dark eyes were fixed upon Vance, half hooded in a quiet, non-judgemental gaze:: ::Vance heard the words and took some comfort in them. His reply came initially in the form of a nod as he gasped in awkward breaths, wiping at his eyes with his uniform sleeves. He was determined to take back some form of control. He wanted to acknowledge Taybrim’s sentiment a little better, though, and managed to croak out a word.:: Sheridan: Thanks. Taybrim: ::He put a hand to his chin in thought:: ‘Cleansing’ is a very tame word for what was a crime committed upon you. Even with good intentions, telepathic rape is a criminal act. ::He spoke carefully, but the last words were sharp, no matter how softly they were delivered. The word rape was a difficult one in particular, and the concept was too often skirted around by those unwilling to struggle with the full magnitude of the crime committed upon people like the away team.:: ::Rape. Vance hadn’t thought of it like that. He’d been trained at the academy to help victims of rape as part of his studies to become a counsellor. Not one day ago, he’d sat down opposite Sabina Tiam, who had been exposed to the same thing he had, and run what he had felt had been a successful support session. They had discussed the feelings of helplessness and anger that she had been feeling and the effect that Y-rocck’s influence was having on her life. He’d even recognised potential signs of trauma, and dealt with them as such, but he hadn’t thought of that word. And yet it was one that should have come to mind. Maybe it didn’t matter that he hadn’t said it out loud during that session as far as Sabina’s treatment went but, ordinarily, he would have. So why hadn’t he?:: ::Because it was a dirty, ugly word, and it made him feel weak and stupid.:: ::The realisation was enough of a shock to stem the tears, though. There was none of the usual brightness in the Vance Sheridan that finally spoke, and he latched onto one of the details that the commander had mentioned.:: Sheridan: I don’t even think that was the cleansing. That seemed to just be his way of proving a point. The cleansing came after we were all dragged away by some weird creature with tentacles and dropped into containment pods. Lieutenant Tiam’s pod started filling up with gas, and Ambassador Calderan’s had a circular blade slowly descending towards her head. Nothing happened in my pod, but I was the only one with a phaser. Taybrim: ::He frowned, deeply. These aliens may operate on a different cultural standard than the Federation, but this entire story was turning into one of abuse of three Starfleet officers. Abuse that was passed off as ‘cleansing’ and therefore a ‘good thing.’ Sal was disgusted by the story that was shaping up:: What did you do? ::Even though Y-rocck seemed to have wanted the officers’ imprisonment to have the greatest impact on them, Vance found it much easier to recant the tale of their escape from captivity and how they had been declared as ‘cleansed’ than he had about Y-rocck’s mental probe.:: Sheridan: I didn’t have any choice but to fire at my cell, point blank, with the phaser on high thermal. I broke out, but suffered burns on my arm and down my side. I don’t really remember a lot of what happened after that, other than that I beamed out with Lieutenant Tiam, and we left Ambassador Calderan behind. ::He immediately turned his head away as he felt a fresh wave of guilt and shame. How could he have left her, knowing what the monsters on that ship were capable of?:: Taybrim: You didn’t leave her behind. You were forced to return. There is a difference between a choice you willingly make and one you must endure. Sheridan: Twice, though? I did it to her again on the promenade when I told you it was OK to just beam her out… ::On some level, he knew that he hadn’t had a choice, but he was losing the battle against his emotions again. He was a good person. He’d done nothing but help people this far in his career and he’d prided himself on that. Literally the second he’d stepped onto Starbase 118, that had changed. He slumped forward, elbows on knees, gripping the back of his head with both hands. It felt like someone had smashed through the [...] that let him hold back his feelings and keep them in control.:: ::No, not ‘someone’. Y-rocck. He was to blame for it. Well, he wasn’t going to win. Not this time.:: Taybrim: ::He could feel the emotions rolling off the counselor, without even reaching for them. It made Sal chew his bottom lip, a surge of empathy welling in his chest.:: Vance, your reactions to what happened were unavoidable. And what you feel is normal. It may be uncomfortable, but that does not mean it is not valid. Sheridan: It fell to me to make the call. It’s my fault. ::He still hadn’t been to see if Ambassador Calderan was alright, in fact. That would have involved facing up to his own decisions, as well as his experiences on Noguwip, and he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to do that yet. How selfish he was.:: Taybrim: Do not blame yourself. If others blame you, it is only because they do not understand what has happened. ::He leaned forward. He was all too well aware of the pain and anger the counselor must be feeling, and he felt a deep need to reach out, and offer something, even just a sympathetic ear:: You can come here any time you need. I would be happy to meet with you. ::Vance let out a deep sigh and sat up again, rubbing his forehead. He looked at Sal through red, puffy eyes. It did come as a relief that he was being so understanding and supportive, and he felt like having someone to talk to if he needed it would be a good thing.:: Sheridan: I would really appreciate that. Taybrim: ::A nod:: Regular social contact will help you feel less isolated. ::A small smile:: If you like we can make a lunch date. Private or public, either works for me. ::While his first instinct was to say private, Vance was determined to keep as much of his routine as normal as possible. He didn’t want to take any more time off work and he wanted to try to take each day as normal. Didn’t he deserve to be able to do that? He hadn’t asked for any of this.:: Sheridan: I think I’d like to try public, but maybe not somewhere too busy. I’ve been feeling uncomfortable around telepaths lately, although not you - you’ve been really helpful. I think I’d get on better with somewhere I can see who’s around me… for now anyway. ::It was interesting to him that he didn’t find Sal Taybrim threatening. Maybe it was because he’d been so understanding that he was able to trust that he wasn’t just going to rifle through the private thoughts in Vance’s head. Or maybe it was because he’d just broken down in front of him and admitted to feeling weak and desperate, so he didn’t feel there was much left to humiliate him in his eyes. Either way, he felt like he was an ally. He wasn’t completely uncomfortable around Sabina either, so maybe this was something he would be able to get over relatively quickly.:: Taybrim: My species has a very strict code when it comes to the moral conduct of telepathy. ::he mused quietly:: I think you will find Tiam in agreement, and she will likely be another empathetic support. ::A pause, before he gazed back at Vance:: I would be happy to meet wherever you are comfortable. And you are always welcome to change your mind as to place. ::he smiled, knowing that it was difficult to commit to decisions during a healing process. Sal was more than willing to be flexible - he remembered how much he had appreciated the people who were flexible with him and had resolved long ago to offer it to others.:: ::Vance finally cracked something that resembled a half smile. At least things were out in the open now. Sometimes you had to let yourself go so that you could build yourself back up again. He’d seen it happen enough times with his patients to know that.:: Sheridan: Thanks. ::He took in a deep breath through his nose.:: I have the rest of the day off, so I think I’m going to see how many different desserts my replicator can make before it overloads. Maybe catch up on some rest. ::He was exhausted, after all, and he hadn’t really given himself enough time to recover from the physical toll the last mission had extorted from him.:: Taybrim: I think that is an excellent idea. Set no alarms and sleep as long as you need. ::A fond smile. He knew how grueling Starfleet could be, and for some reason all the good officers seemed to feel guilty when they took time for themselves.:: ::No-one on Vance’s staff had complained once when he’d re-jigged the schedule to give himself some down time. Maybe they had noticed he’d been pulling double shifts since the riots had finished. He doubted they would mind one more morning.:: Sheridan: Thank you, Sir. That’s really good of you. I’ll do that. Taybrim: ::He stood as the other man stood and offered a hand out. It wasn’t quite the Human handshake, just a clasping of hands. The reaffirmation that people were physically there for you, willing to support you without hurting you.:: Rest well, Vance. Let me know where you would like to get lunch tomorrow. ::he smiled with the look of ‘if you sleep through breakfast, I’ll never tell’:: ::Vance really did appreciate that gesture. He’d only met the commander in person just a few minutes ago, and he already felt like he could depend on him. Meeting up for lunch and talking about something other than the horrors of the Noguwip would be a welcome change from driving himself to the point of exhaustion each day. It kept his mind off the things he didn’t want to think about, but it wasn’t doing him any favours in the long run.:: Sheridan: I will. I’m looking forward to it already. ::Sal offered one last parting smile, letting the man leave at his own leisure before he sat back. The whole affair with the Noguwip was turning up some painful and unpleasant truths. He had confidence that both Tiam and Sheridan would recover in time. Perhaps Sheridan would need more time, but he was starting to realize the situation and was certainly taking steps along the path of the healing process. The only member of the away team he hadn’t seen was Nia Calderan, and he was worried that Y’Rocck’s influence was even stronger on her than the others, judging from her reactions when she was beamed back onboard. Considering her position and her relationship to Commander Handley-Page; Sal was very worried about her. The little ginger XO frowned as the doors to his office closed. This past mission rent the crew in more ways than one.:: ::The door slid closed behind quite a different Vance Sheridan than the one that had walked into the office. His eyes were a little less bright than they had been when he’d reported aboard the station, and he felt like he’d left a part of himself on the alien ship. Still, his meeting with Commander Taybrim had proved that there were people who were prepared to help him to get back on his feet. With their help, and by thinking about his own training, he felt he had a good chance of getting through this.:: ~*~ tbc ~*~ A JP by: PNPC Lieutenant Vance Sheridan Counsellor Starbase 118 Ops SIMmed by: Lieutenant Commander Chen ~and~ Lt. Commander Sal Taybrim Executive Officer StarBase 118 Ops

((Starbase 118: Black Tower, Chen’s Office)) ::Chen could have sat for hours combing through the information on his terminals. Access to BLACKNET. Access to most of the station’s records, across a range of departments. There were things that he knew he wouldn’t be able to see, such as information restricted to the station’s commanding officer and the inhabitants of the Executive Tower, but that didn’t matter; there was more than enough for him to go on, including files that were effectively for his eyes only. It was like being in a candy store.:: ::He had made it a priority to read through the files of all of the personnel under his command. Some of them he had been able to skim read. Others were interesting enough that he’d felt the need to digest them in more detail. He’d been to see a couple of officers and called others in for meetings, and he had finally reached a stage where he knew who his core staff were likely to be.:: ::It had been while he had been looking for any officers from outside the Black Tower with previous experience in intelligence that he had come across the final officer he needed to contact. Lieutenant Sabina Tiam had previously worked for intel, but it seemed that she had been transferred to security previously in her career after a psychological evaluation. There was a note to say that a few things had been redacted from her files as well, although that information seemed to be accessible to Chen. Naturally, that had piqued his interest and, after reading the entire service record, he had decided that she would be the perfect officer to serve in a similar role to one of his previous department heads aboard the USS Vigilant, Kaedyn Zehn. The Trill had been excellent at analysing data, extracting patterns from it and using it to formulate theories. The way he was going, Chen felt he was going to be able to create a ‘think tank’ of officers with that kind of experience for the first time in his career.:: ::He tapped his badge, keen to summon Tiam for a meeting.:: Chen: =/\= Chen to Tiam. =/\= ((Meanwhile, Resident Holodeck 3)) ::Two thick, purple silks hung from far above and wrapped around Tiam’s arms. Using only the resistance, Sabina held herself upright suspended high above the holodeck floor. With a whirl of fabric, she spun herself into a new position, largely inspired by the scorpion yoga pose. Her breath was labored, but even. Her momentum had her swinging, ever so slightly, into the start of a circle, the trail of the silks fluttering on the air.:: ::The art of aerial dance, especially the silks, was both beautiful and intense. The physical strength and mental clarity required was a large part of why the art form had become such an impactful part of the young woman’s life. It took a certain resolve and skill to feel comfortable storeys off the ground. Her practice had become much like her meditation. So when her combadge chirped, the interruption caused her to slip just slightly lower, the silks tightening around her limbs. She silently cursed herself for not putting the thing on mute.:: Chen: =/\= Chen to Tiam. =/\= ::The name was unfamiliar to her, which immediately piqued her interest.:: Tiam: =/\= Tiam here. =/\= Chen: =/\= Sorry to disturb you, Lieutenant. I’m the chief of intelligence. I’d like for you to come and meet me in my office to discuss a few things. Is now a good time? =/\= ::Well, that was certainly unexpected. With a quick unwrapping and rewrapping of the silk, Sabina performed a drop that was so fast it usually made spectators gasp. A ruffle and swoosh could be heard on the comline, she was sure. Having stopped a mere few feet above the floor, Sabina answered as she stood and untangled herself.:: Tiam: =/\= Give me fifteen? =/\= Chen: =/\= Alright. I’ll have someone waiting to bring you up to my office. =/\= Tiam: =/\= Aye, sir. Tiam out. =/\= ::Looking down at her athletic attire (a black catsuit lacking sleeves) she bemoaned the fact that she would have to run and change into a uniform with the few minutes she had instead of having the chance to read up on this Chen. Which was unfortunate because he clearly already knew something about her. Intelligence types did certainly like having the upper hand in meetings.:: ((Small Timeskip, Black Tower)) ::As she had rushed to change, throw her hair up and cover the distance between her habitat section and the Black Tower, Tiam had gone through each possible reason she was being called to a meeting with Chief Chen (which was what she would refer to him as, until she knew his rank at least) and ranked those reasons from most to least likely.:: ::Now, as she was being escorted by a black collared crewman through the Black Tower’s public entrance to the chief’s office, she was convinced that something had come up in one of her recent reports. Whether it had to do with what happened on the Noguwip, or her involvement in uncovering the apparent involvement of Romulans in the recent attacks on the base, she didn’t know. But either way, she was preparing herself to be grilled.:: ::When they approach the office, the crewman requested and was granted access. He motioned for Sabina to enter before returning to his other duties. Walking into the office, she stood at attention, looking to the Andorian chief.:: Tiam: Lt. Tiam, reporting as requested, sir. ::As the lieutenant entered his office, it struck Chen that she was a very similar height to a previous visitor to his office, Clayas Vell. He was a good half a foot taller than both of them, and not especially tall himself.:: ::Still, maybe it was beneficial to be shorter if you worked in a black collar. He was short himself by Andorian standards but, rather than allow any of the teasing that had been aimed in his direction at the academy to bother him, he had just reminded himself that it was easier for him to fit into hiding places than the members of his species who had reached the heady heights of six and a half feet.:: Chen: Have a seat, Lieutenant. Good to meet you. ::Sabina took the seat opposite him, crossing one leg over the other. She was ever aware of her movements and body language. Her cobalt eyes settled on the chief, quietly considering.:: Tiam: Likewise, sir. ::The chan tapped at his console, scrolling through the records that were displayed on the screen.:: Chen: I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I recently transferred here to take charge of the intelligence department. As a part of that, I’ve been looking at making sure we have the best possible team, and that’s led me to review a few files belonging to people who used to work in intelligence but don’t any more. ::Sabina resisted the urge to shift in her seat. That certainly wasn’t the conversation she had expected. Still, she didn’t want to assume where he was going with this, lest she get her hopes up.:: Tiam: I see. Chen: According to these logs, you were shipped out of intel a while back? It cites psychological reasons, but they saw fit to expunge those records from your medical files. Can you explain why that was? ::Oddly it seemed to be classified above her clearance level, which meant that Chen wouldn’t be able to share it with her even if she didn’t.:: ::That particular fact made Sabina rather uncomfortable. And despite her ability to hide that discomfort in most ways, the young Betazoid’s artificially colored eyes shifted to a darker, more navy blue right along with the shift in her emotions. Tiam silently cursed herself for not yet having that malfunction taken care of yet.:: Tiam: I could only speculate, sir. ::And frankly, she prefered not to.:: ::According to the files, Tiam was currently cleared for general duty - there was nothing to say that she was on restricted duties due to psychological reasons, and there was even a record for her latest visit to see a counsellor, within the last few days. Interestingly, Chen had been given the option to override the usual lockouts on those files, which he guessed was a facet of holding the position he held, but he had opted not to. He had enough integrity to respect doctor/patient confidentiality, and the fact that she hadn’t had her availability to work full shifts changed told him everything he needed to know. However, it seemed that she hadn’t passed the psychological exam required of intelligence officers, which was often tougher, right back when she had been doing her intelligence training.:: Chen: Am I right in thinking that you haven’t been experiencing any major problems recently? Nothing that would keep you from doing your duties? Tiam: That’s correct, sir. I’ve never been relieved from general duty. ::The Andorian looked from Tiam to the computer screen and back again, then scratched one of his eyebrows absently as he weighed up his options. Lieutenant Tiam had all of the skills needed to be a top flight analyst. While Vell had experience in that field, it seemed he would be better suited to cryptology when the team was working on full scale projects. Tiam, on the other hand, seemed like she would be able to keep a track of all incoming data, managing and making sense of it in real time. Of course, there was always bound to be some overlap between officers in terms of ability, but he didn’t see that as a problem - it just meant the department could be more versatile.:: Chen: What would you say if I told you I’d like you to put a black collar on again? I can take care of filing the paperwork to initiate your transfer today, if necessary. I think you’d fit into the team I’m trying to build very well, and you’re in the right place to skill up, if you feel like expanding your repertoire. ::Up until this point, Sabina had tried to remain as reserved as possible. But his offer had been wholly unexpected. The last time someone tried to put her in an Intelligence department, transfer orders to 118 had come through mere days later. She had started to accept that she wouldn’t make it back to that particular division of Starfleet. And now, an opportunity with not just an Intel department on some starship, but the Black Tower had presented itself. How could she say no? Still, she tried to temper her excitement.:: Tiam: I would say that’s something I’m very interested in. ::Her resolve finally cracked in the form of a half-smile.:: And for the record, I’ll take any opportunity to expand my skill set. Chen: Good. There are a lot of personnel in this department, but I like my front runners to as versatile as possible. I get the feeling that things aren’t quiet all that often in this region of space. ::Conceivably, they could be called upon where they would have to run a field operation en masse, or cover for someone else, working outside their comfort zone. It never hurt to be prepared.:: Tiam: I do have one question. ::The Andorian’s eyebrows and antennae both lifted in curiosity.:: Chen: What’s that? Tiam: Will I be cleared for field work as well? Or are there duty restrictions on file? ::In her past several missions, trying as they were, Sabina had learned that it was her work in the thick of things that really pushed her and helped her grow. As hard as the work may be, she didn’t want to give it up. Desk jobs were wonderful and wonderfully safe, but despite herself, it had been made clear to her that she wouldn’t reach her full potential hiding in an office.:: ::The brows descended again and Chen looked at Sabina through narrowed eyes for a moment, thinking about how to talk to her without giving too much away.:: Chen: There are duty restrictions on file, but let me take a look at what I can do to get them lifted. All the time you’ve been serving as a security officer might just give you the edge you need to give me a hand with that, but there’s no much more I can say. Tiam: ::Nodding.:: Understood. Well sir, I’d be more than happy to join the team, if you’ll have me. Chen: Consider it done. I’ll take care of the transfer request right away. There’s a meeting in the main briefing room tomorrow at 0800. Tiam: Aye, sir. ::Her eyes sparkled with an excitement that the rest of her expression did not betray.:: ::There was just one more thing. Chen hadn’t made it through all of his intelligence training by being sloppy - being attentive to details was something he prided himself on, and he had noticed something that he found quite interesting.:: Chen: Before you go, I have a question too. This whole time we were talking, I noticed that your eyes have been changing colour. If you don’t mind me asking, do you have implants? ::He imagined it was possible that she was using some kind of device as a result of losing her sight, although there was nothing to indicate that in her files and he couldn’t see any evidence of circuitry, as he would have expected in standard ocular implants.:: Tiam: ::She chuckled, looking away momentarily.:: I do, actually. Though it’s merely a cosmetic implant. The color variance is a slight malfunction I’ll be taking care of… ::She could have gone on, explaining that she got them when she started at the Academy but had found them most useful while studying with SFI and that being assumed a Terran instead of a Betazoid often made her job of gathering intelligence all the easier, but she had a feeling the chief could put two and two together.:: Chen: Interesting. Alright, I think I’ve pried enough for one day. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. :Tiam nodded with a sense of finality and stood to leave. Before turning to walk to the door, she paused.:: Tiam: Thank you for the opportunity, sir. I don’t know what exactly was put into my file, but I hope to prove myself an asset to the team. ::With that, Sabina turned to exit the office and the Black Tower, feeling enthusiastic knowing she would be coming back to the state-of-art facility for her regular duty shifts. Commander Chen seemed to be a straightforward leader, and Sabina respected that. Now, only time would tell if he expected the same bluntness from his team and whether or not Sabina would be able to overcome any lingering reservations he, or the powers that be, may have about her return to a black collar.:: TBC A JP by Lieutenant Commander Chen Chief Intelligence Officer Starbase 118 Ops & Lt.Jg. Sabina Tiam Intelligence Officer Starbase 118 Op

((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

((Starbase 118: Counsellor’s Office)) ::The few days following the riots had been very busy for Vance Sheridan, but it had been the type of ‘busy’ that he was accustomed to. As he had expected, the influx of referrals for appointments had been high, with a healthy dose of requests coming in from officers being proactive about talking about their experiences and the helplessness that they were still feeling following an enforced lack of control. In some cases he’d ended up reading from a similar script. In others, he’d had to be a little more inventive. Some, the patients effectively counselled themselves, and he’d ended up just being there to listen - that was what they had seemed to need, though, and if that was enough to help them along then nothing more was warranted. His schedule would remain busy for the next few weeks, too. Everyone who he met with was scheduled for a follow-up appointment to make sure that they continued towards fully coming to terms with what had happened.:: ::The next name on his list was someone who he considered a friend by now. His experiences of the riot had been very similar in some ways to those of Sabina Tiam, with some key differences. The Betazoid had had issues with her telepathy and had been exposed to a strange gas aboard the Noguwip, a ship belonging to a strange species of nightmarish, telepathic creatures, as well as being exposed to the stress of mental violation, being ordered to leave Ambassador Calderan to be tortured and backing up Vance’s suggestion to the first officer to beam the same diplomat to who knows where with something that could only be described as a demonic entity.:: ::It was always weird counselling friends, but it did remove a certain level of formality. That was something, at least. When the door chime rang, Vance called Sabina inside.:: Sheridan: Come in! ::The office door swooshed open to allow the petite woman access. Sabina smiled as she stepped in, the light fabric of her off-duty clothing fluttering behind her. Appointment or not, she was not one to be caught in a uniform anywhere it wasn’t strictly required.:: Tiam: Counselor. ::She nodded in greeting.:: ::He stood from the seat behind his desk and smiled, walking around to the sofa and armchair that took centre stage in the office.:: Sheridan: Grab yourself a seat. Would you like a drink? ::She began making her way to the sofa.:: Tiam: Coffee would be lovely. ::Taking a seat, she realized how tense she had become. The Betazoid was still not used to verbalizing her innermost thoughts or feelings. So things like psych evals, or even just counseling sessions felt like foreign ground. But this time around she had the privilege of working with someone she had come to count as a friend. It was probably a large part of why she had been proactive in setting the appointment, in fact.:: ::To the telepath, counseling sessions with strangers seemed inherently unbalanced. She would be expected to express herself openly and honestly, yet Starfleet’s policy, and what many considered to be simple consideration, required that she kept her own mental barriers up. While, due to the nature of the task at hand, the counselor themselves certainly wouldn’t be sharing about themselves. This routine gave her no chance to really get to know who she was talking to. That type of imbalance was quite rare on Betazed. At least working with a friend, Sabina knew that she could trust the officer she working with.:: ::As Vance returned, coffee in tow, Sabina accepted the cup with a grateful look.:: Tiam: Thank you. ::She sipped the familiar, bitter beverage and after a moment of simple enjoyment, she set the cup down. Her eyes, darkening ever so slightly to cobalt, fell on the counselor. Before speaking, she pulled her legs up under her and assumed a more casual posture on the sofa. :: Tiam: You’ll have to forgive me, I’m a bit out of practice when it comes to talk therapy. ::Sabina knew he would likely know this. Her file was unusually bare in the psych section. Her last formal evaluation had come at the end of her SFI training. How she had managed to not be called in for so long, she didn’t know. But she knew that their findings had been less than favorable for her, so she hadn’t minded avoiding further study, so to speak.:: ::”A bit out of practice” was an understatement. If Sabina had been for a counselling appointment recently then whoever she’d seen hadn’t bothered to write anything down. Trying times like the riots tended to bring to light a few people who had slipped through the net of having their regular evaluations, but Vance hadn’t necessarily expected Sabina to be one of them. He guessed he didn’t really know her - he didn’t really know anyone after being on the station for just a few days now. Still, that would come with time and this wasn’t about lecturing people for not taking care of procedure.:: Sheridan: Don’t worry. ::He smiled.:: I won’t judge. I’ve had enough people through the doors today who haven’t seen a counsellor in a while that I’m definitely in sympathetic mode. ::He made himself comfortable.:: Sheridan: How’ve you been, anyway? Have you had much of a chance to take the load off? ::Sabina considered her answer to that for a moment. Between the mission, her family and her disrupted sleep, she couldn’t say she’d been great. But she had been embracing leave wholeheartedly, which helped.:: Tiam: I have, actually. While the promenade has been in the middle of repairs, I’ve gotten to explore the rest of the station. ::She nodded to herself, taking her own inventory of the past few days.:: Got some hooping in. ::Exploring the station was still on Vance’s to-do list, although he’d managed to get to know the counselling department quite well. Much better than his own quarters, in fact. He was fairly sure he knew what Sabina meant with the other thing, but he thought he’d ask to check. If it was one of her interests then it wouldn’t do any harm to chat about it.:: Sheridan: Hooping? Tiam: ::She smiled, eyes lightening a shade.:: Hoop dance. It’s common in many cultures. Hula hooping, I think Terrans usually call it. Sheridan: Ah, yes! Yeah, we do call it that. I’m glad you’ve found some time to have fun. ::She was aware she had dodged his real question, and part of her wondered whether he would press her on that point. But, a larger part of her decided it wouldn’t be right to make him.:: Tiam: It’s been good. But, I admit, I haven’t been sleeping well since.... ::She still didn’t quite know how to name what the station had gone through.:: well, since what happened. ::He nodded sympathetically. She’d had to face more than one extremely unpleasant situation, and she had done very well to hold it together long enough to complete the mission. He counted himself in that bracket, too, and Ambassador Calderan, who he was yet to see. Those were just the officers whose experiences he’d been around to see and be a part of. The effects of the riots had echoed through a large proportion of the station’s personnel.:: Sheridan: I think that’s understandable. Can you be more specific about how you’ve been sleeping? Have your sleep patterns been disrupted by bad dreams, for example? Or have you found it difficult to get to sleep in the first place? ::Her eyes studied him for a long moment. Sabina had come to find the counselor to be capable, trustworthy, and altogether fresh faced. She had no reason to think he would be overly scrupulous of her, but that concern still caused a sinking feeling in her stomach.:: Tiam: Falling asleep has been fine. After that gas, my body was feeling so weak that any time I was near a pillow I was falling asleep. ::She sipped her coffee.:: But I can’t seem to get a full night’s rest. I… ::She set her cup down and leaned forward slightly.:: Can I be quite blunt with you, counselor? Sheridan: Of course. ::That would make it much easier to try to help her, after all. :: Tiam: I keep ending up in the same dream. The past few nights, I fall asleep and eventually, there I am, reliving an old memory until suddenly it’s different. Suddenly, Y-rocck appears, in all his potential savagery and I wake up. ::Well that sounded perfectly horrible. Vance’s own memories had been violated back aboard the Noguwip, but he hadn’t seen the snake-like Y-rocck anywhere in them. He was glad of that, too.:: Sheridan: I can see how that would be distressing. I’m guessing that once you wake up you don’t really feel like you can go back to sleep again, or that you want to? Tiam: ::She shrugged.:: Sometimes it’s just easier to get up, start the day. ::Unfortunately, that kind of a recurring dream had the potential to work like a kind of aversion therapy. If they let it build up for too much longer then Sabina would probably develop a pathological fear of falling asleep, which would cause no end of additional problems. Fortunately, she had been brave enough to take action sooner rather than later.:: Sheridan: OK, so do you feel comfortable with talking about the dream a little more? Maybe we can figure out why it keeps coming back. Sometimes that can help to tackle the problem right at the roots. ::He often tried not to be too ‘counsellory’, but aspects of his teachers occasionally leaked through, even this long after he had left the academy. He caught himself gesticulating in a kind of chopping motion to emphasise his point, cleared his throat, and then sat on his hands.:: Tiam: ::Sabina took a deep breath, preparing herself for the subject to come.:: I don’t think ignoring it would be as productive. ::She gave a tired smirk.:: Sheridan: OK, so let’s start at the beginning. What’s the memory that you’re reliving in the dream? Tiam: ::She leaned back on the sofa, folding her arms across her chest.:: How old were you during the Dominion War, counselor? ::She could have guessed, sure. But Sabina wasn’t one for assumptions.:: Sheridan: Uhm, like… ::he narrowed his eyes as he worked out dates.:: 12 or something? Like, that was when it finished and the announcement about the Treaty of Bajor was made on the news service. Tiam: ::She nodded stiffly. The young woman’s features were noticeably hardened but her eyes shined a little brighter than before.:: I was young too. I was around ten when the Dominion came to Betazed. I was visiting the capitol during their first assault, in fact. ::Coffee cup held between her fingers, she gazed absently at the dark liquid.:: Tiam: I was there with my father. He’s always worked for the government there. When they attacked, he got me to safety as quickly as he could. He ::beat:: took me to his assistant so that I could have safe transport back home to our isolated village. ::She looked up once again.:: But I saw the beginning of the attack. And I watched my father run back to help, and to fight. That’s the memory I keep dreaming. And as my father runs back, up from the ground comes Y-rocck and I wake up. ::Vance took a deep breath as he recognised signs of something that he’d spent a considerable amount of time dealing with during his first year of service, but he didn’t want to leap to any conclusions. Re-living traumatic events over and over was a symptom of post-traumatic stress. However, Y-rocck’s appearance in those memories suggested another degree of complication.:: Sheridan: What happens when you wake up? Does it take you a long time to calm down, or do you keep thinking of parts of the nightmare? ::Sabina made a poor attempt to speak, but didn’t produce anything audible. This moment exemplified the difficulties she had faced when transitioning to a world where telepathy and telepathic communication were, usually, quite rare. Explaining how she felt after waking up from her nightmare seemed to require a vocabulary she just didn’t have. But despite that, she composed herself and did her best to carry on.:: Tiam: I’m fairly rooted in reality. Once I wake up, I know it was a dream. I can tell myself that. That it wasn’t real and that I’m fine. But I just… ::She attempted to describe how she felt again, giving a small sigh of frustration.:: I end up angry. ::The young Betazoid wasn’t one for anger. Truth be told, she usually kept herself distant enough from things to avoid any impassioned fervor. Her discomfort at her own reaction was apparent.:: ::She seemed uncomfortable, but that was to be expected. It was never easy to talk about feelings without stirring some of them back up again, along with a few others. It was like tracing a stick through a puddle and dredging up the sediment from the bottom; what once had been clear tended to become muddy very quickly.:: Sheridan: Do you have a clear focus for that anger? Maybe Y-rocck, or at the Jem’Hadar for attacking the capital? Or does it feel more general? ::She sipped her coffee, intentionally avoiding having to answer right away.:: Tiam: Is it possible for me to answer “yes” to all of those? ::Sabina’s telepathic abilities had been thrown out of balance after her encounter with Y-rocck, too. Vance remembered her being prescribed some kind of psilosynine inhibitor when they had both been in sickbay and asking her whether she had been struggling while the demon-like entity had been terrorising the promenade.:: Sheridan: So, just to make sure I understand the lay of the land - last time I spoke to you, you’d been having some problems with your telepathy, but after R’Marr gave you that shot, you said you felt like things had settled. Does it still feel OK? Any issues… headaches, feelings of being overwhelmed? ::It was always important to check that out. Betazoids were receptive to telepathic influence on a scale that humans weren’t. With so many members of the starbase’s crew feeling distressed after the riots, Vance wouldn’t have been surprised if things were less comfortable for empaths.:: Tiam: ::She chuckled and spoke lightheartedly for a moment, relieved he had taken the conversation in a different direction for the time being.:: Any feelings I have of being overwhelmed come from circumstance rather than brain chemistry, I think. But no, no issues thus far. Adjusting after the inhibitor wore off, especially with things on the station being what they are right now was… a process. But I’ve had time to meditate and that makes a big difference. ::Vance smiled sympathetically. They had both felt overwhelmed at various times. He had certainly felt out of his depth on more than one occasion. The meditation she had mentioned was also likely to be partially responsible for keeping her going despite being sleep deprived.:: Sheridan: Alright. Do you think maybe there’s a reason why you’re reliving that particular memory? Your mind seems to be making an association between that particular event and Y-rocck. ::Vance certainly thought there was a reason, and a very specific one at that, but he wanted to give Sabina a chance to think about it first. If she came to the same conclusion that he had then there would be a degree of proof that it was accurate. People usually found it easier to come to terms with things that they realised themselves than things that they had been told by their counsellor in any case.:: Tiam: ::She thought for a moment.:: Aside from the obvious, they’re both frightening experiences, nothing jumps out at me. Should there be more to it than that? Sheridan: I think it’s possible that there’s an emotional connection between the two things. The scene where your father leaves you to go and help defend the capital when you were really too young to join in, and the alien aggressor that forced his way into your mind. Feeling that degree of helplessness is paralysing at the time, and feeling angry is a common aftereffect. ::He was finding it quite difficult to explain that, because it was impossible not to be reminded of his own experiences with Y-rocck. He had been stripped of the privacy of his own mind and forced to inflict major injury on himself under the snake’s stewardship. In Vance’s opinion, Y-rocck was no less of a demon than the creature they had beamed off the promenade.:: ::The air in the room seemed to change. Vance’s words had hit a nerve within Sabina but they must have rung true in some way for him as well, as she felt his emotional presence in the room shift along with their topic. For a long moment she found herself digging through her own emotions; wrestling with the idea of helplessness, and how it had butted it’s ugly head into her life once more. She glanced at Vance, hoping that this session hadn’t become too triggering for him.:: ::He cleared his throat, aware he’d been quiet for too long, and that Sabina could sense what he was thinking. He forced himself to think of something else before he dwelled on the fact that she was a telepath, just like Y-rocck, because he knew it would make him uncomfortable.:: ::A touch embarrassed, he looked up at her and smiled.:: Sheridan: Sorry. If you’re happy to go into more detail then it might be good to talk about what happened on that day with your father. Maybe that will help to stop it from resurfacing as often. Take Y-rocck out of the picture, kind of thing. ::Sabina nodded, considering. On the one hand, she was happy to move the conversation away from Y-rocck, lest the counselor becomes the one in need of counsel. But on the other hand, well, that day had been… significant.:: Tiam: It was my first visit to Rixx. I was thrilled. That morning, my father had gotten called into some meeting, or something of the like. He had asked me to stay put in his office but, ::She shrugged.:: that wasn’t really my style at that age. I wandered around the building exploring, harmless really. ::Or at least, at the time she thought it would be harmless. In truth her choice to wander had caused her father a great deal of panic.:: Tiam: And then, I heard it, the start of the attack. They were firing from their ships before they ever set foot on the planet. You could feel the ground rumble as structures fell. I… I didn’t know what to do. Sheridan: So what happened? Tiam: I ran. ::She was not proud of that, and it showed on her face.:: I just, took off in one direction, no plan... Sheridan: ::Nodding slowly:: That’s what I would have done. ::He was aware that wasn’t necessarily relevant, but it provided Sabina with validation. He picked up on the change in her expression, but running away from danger was something that was hard-wired into all but the most belligerent of humanoid species. She couldn’t blame herself for it.:: Tiam: Eventually, I literally ran into my father. He, of course, had been trying to find me. And my father, he’s a man of action. Once he had me, that was it. He didn’t stop moving. He ran, carrying me the whole way until he got me to safety. ::She paused.:: Well, relative safety. ::She recalled the memory of those moments as her father ran wordlessly with her in his arms. Over his shoulder, she had seen the initial reactions to the attack.:: Tiam: We moved a short distance through the city center. I don’t think my father liked that we had to go outside to reach an escape route. He tried to move as quickly as he could but, while he ran, all I could do was watch what was happening. ::And there it was. That same, but altogether unfamiliar feeling of anger welled inside Sabina and manifested in her tone.:: Tiam: ::Shaking her head.:: There was no warning. Not for the people, at least. The panic that filled the city, the screams… Once my father had passed me off to our family friend, he ran back. He had to. There was no help for us. No cavalry coming. Our peacekeepers were overwhelmed. Starfleet was no where to be found, despite their promises of protection. There were no choices left to us, no allies but ourselves. So as the city seemed to crumble, my father ran back into the chaos. But I couldn’t. I was too young, too weak. I had to be protected. ::She bit at her lip.:: In a world where there were only the helpful and the burdensome, I had ended up on the wrong side of that distinction. ::Vance could hear the anger in her voice. Even if she had been able to help, he imagined she would still be angry for what the Dominion had done, but the fact she had to just stand by and watch it happen had intensified that emotion.:: Sheridan: Maybe so, but you were a kid. Even though you could physically hold and point a weapon, it doesn’t mean you should have had to fight that kind of battle. How did things play out in the end? ::The way the story was progressing, Vance felt as though Sabina might have lost her father during the Dominion occupation. There was nothing in her file to indicate that, but then her records were far from complete.:: Tiam: ::Her words dripped with bitterness.:: When everything was said and done, we lost countless citizens. But we survived. We won. ::Her eyes shifted to a flat, dark navy.:: Our leadership, people like my father, everyday people… They all came together and through mastery of the Betazoid mind, we prevailed. But no later victory could change what had happened. We entrusted our safety to the Federation and to Starfleet, but it came down to us. When everything was on the line, we only had our strongest to look to. I remember, in my fathers arms, deciding I would be like him. I would run into danger to help instead of fleeing. I would be strong enough to make a difference. ::Tiam took a breath, realizing she had gone on what was a difficult tangent.:: Tiam: I’m sorry, counselor. I thought this was something I had a better handle on. Clearly I was mistaken. ::Vance didn’t know why Starfleet hadn’t arrived in time to help the people of Betazed. He’d lost his grandfather during the Dominion War, and missed out on any of the stories he might have told and, although he’d looked into it, his knowledge was patchy. What he did know, though, was that overcoming the Dominion Occupation had taken immense courage and strength. And he also knew that Sabina was being anything but weak now.:: Sheridan: Confronting things like this is the only way to really get a handle on them. Telling me about it took exactly the kind of bravery that you’re talking about. It was a choice to run into danger instead of running away from it. ::Sabina looked at him, and a small smile graced her features. She could see the truth in what he said, and it brought her small sense of validation.:: Sheridan: When it comes down to it, you should know that your actions back then came as a result of things your brain is hard-wired to do. There are times when you can’t override your natural survival instinct and it doesn’t make you a coward. After experiencing that event, you have made several conscious decisions that are really more the kind of thing that define you as a person. You chose to put on a gold uniform and risk your life for others in Starfleet security. You live up to the standards and the expectations of that job every day. And even though Starfleet didn’t come to help Betazed when they were needed, you’re still prepared to serve, because you know you can stop other people on other worlds from having to experience the same things that you lived through. ::He felt that was admirable. It would have been quite easy for her to hang the anger and helplessness she had felt on the Starfleet emblem and use it as something to hate. Hatred was often used as that kind of crutch, a defensive response that cut off emotions that were less easy to process.:: Tiam: Counselor, I hesitate to taint your image of me, but I’m not sure I deserve such praise. ::Whatever mix of anger, trepidation and validation she had been experience before settled into the quiet cold that came with facing who you were when that imagine was something you weren’t proud of.:: Tiam: I didn’t choose the gold collar. I didn’t choose Starfleet out of a noble desire to protect others. I wanted a desk job. I trained in Intel for a position sat safe somewhere, pouring over data. And I did it so that I’d have a way off of Betazed. ::She laughed.:: I’ve been running this whole time. And when SFI realized that, they transfered me right out of black. ::This, of course, was simply her interpretation of what had happened. Starfleet Intelligence was rarely good at communicating their true intentions, even to some of their operatives. And ultimately, she may not have chosen her current position, but she had stuck to it. The transfer of departments hadn’t caused her to quit. Rather, it had pushed her to sharpen skills she hadn’t known she’d come to rely on. Traveling along this line of thinking, Sabina could feel herself calm down a little. She was even aware of the shift in her eye color to a lighter, brighter blue.:: Tiam: But that’s a bit self-deprecating, isn’t it? I mean, I’ve stuck it out. In the face of danger, I have risked myself for others. And I’ve learned firsthand that there are good people in Starfleet. ::She smiled cautiously.:: ::Vance readjusted the way he was sitting, folding one leg up and tucking it under another to get a little more comfortable. His image of her wasn’t going to be tainted by something like that; everyone’s careers took different paths and everyone was motivated by different things. He didn’t need to know her history to see that could be brave, even if she didn’t believe she was herself.:: Sheridan: ::Genuinely:: Me too. ::Frustrated, and tired, Sabina ran her hands through her wavy mane of hair.:: Tiam: This business with Y-rocck and that creature… ::She shook her head.:: I hate that it’s getting to me this way. I just… Sheridan: They made you feel weak. Like you were the little girl in the capitol all over again. ::The parallel was undeniable, really. Sabina’s dream had painted the picture all too well.:: Tiam: I worked so hard, Vance. I trained my mind. I studied telepathy. I practiced my abilities. ::She gestured, emphasizing her words.:: I put in the hours, day after day after day. And do you know what? I am a powerful telepath because of it. But it didn’t mean anything. ::The counsellor folded his arms. Out of Sabina’s sight, his hands gripped at his sides. There was that ‘t’ word again, but it needed to be discussed.:: Sheridan: Sometimes… ::he paused:: it’s harder to take getting beat at something when you’ve spent a long time preparing yourself for it. I mean, if you were awful at hockey, and you played a game against a pro, you would expect them to make you look bad. If you were really good, though, one of the best because you practised every day, and another player came along and had you outplayed, it would be very difficult to swallow. Tiam: Sure, but how often are lives on the line in hockey? It’s not my ego that’s bruised here. We’re talking about survival. Sheridan: No-one can be strong all the time. That’s one of the toughest things about living in a galaxy where every species is so different. I would lose in an arm wrestling match against a Klingon. We both might lose in a sprint race against a Ktarian. Being a member of a species gives you a whole array of advantages and disadvantages over others, and it just so happened that whatever Y-rocck is had more telepathic power than Betazoids do. That was decided before either of you even met. I don’t really put much stock in fate, but I guess that’s how you might describe it if you did - something that has an outcome that’s been decided before it even happens. ::There was a saying from Earth that he had always felt was useful for counselling sessions, and some of his patients had found to be a comfort.:: Sheridan: Back on Earth, there’s a saying that you might find appropriate. It’s a prayer actually, but it’s quite often used without any form of religious meaning. It goes ‘grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. ::Sabina nodded, content to listen for a moment. She had run into a similar sentiment, on Earth in fact, and she couldn’t deny it’s relevance.:: Sheridan: The last part is the hardest. I’d like to tell you something as well. ::His eyebrows knotted and his jaw set as he did so. It was something that wasn’t easy to share, but that he felt he needed to, for her sake as much as his.:: I tried to resist Y-rocck. I tried to drag him into different memories than the ones he was trying to access. He punished me for it by making me relive something embarrassing - nothing anywhere near as bad as the memory you dreamed about - but enough for him to show me that he was in control of my mind, not me. I stood up to him the best I could, but it made no difference. ::He knew he was going to have to stop avoiding that issue and talk to someone with a counselling qualification before it started to fester, too. It was about time he took some action instead of hiding in the counselling office all day, using work as an excuse not to have to go and face his own problems.:: ::Sabina leaned forward slightly, placing a friendly hand on the counselor’s knee. She could only imagine what the experience must have been like for someone without telepathic experience. Sabina had certainly never faced Y-rocck’s level of invasion before, but at least she had been used to telepathy as a part of life.:: Tiam: ::She spoke empathetically.:: I’m sorry, Vance. ::She removed her hand and collected her coffee cup and saucer as he began to speak again. While she listened, she stood and brought the glassware to the replicator for recycling.:: Sheridan: What we both have to think about is how we made ourselves bounce back afterwards. We came back to the station in awful physical condition, and the first thing we did after being treated was run an evacuation of the surgical ward. Then you figured out a way to track down that girl and, in the end, it was you that gave everyone the opening that they needed to throw it off balance for long enough to remove it from the station and end the riots. I don’t think there’s anyone who could argue that you’re weak, or that you ran away from anything at all. ::And if they did then he would be the first to contradict them. While Vance held the highest rank between the two of them, and had been responsible for having the final say on some of the actions that they had taken, he had depended heavily on Sabina’s guidance and it had been more of an equal partnership than anything else.:: ::Her back to him still as she stood at the replicator, Sabina took a deep breath and let his words sink in before turning to face him again.:: Tiam: Thank you. I appreciate hearing that. ::She returned to the sofa, perching herself on the edge of her seat.:: And you’re right, it’s something we both need to remind ourselves of going forward. I don’t know that most people could have stepped up the way you did after what happened on the Noguwip. ::He laughed and shook his head. Part of him wanted to accept the compliment, but part of him wanted to protest that abandoning Ambassador Calderan to potentially be killed on two separate occasions was hardly stepping up. He scratched his temple and looked at the carpet, deploying emotional barricades. It would hardly do to lose control of himself now, when the appointment was almost done.:: Sheridan: Thanks. ::He cleared his throat.:: I guess we really didn’t have much choice. Tiam: Funny, isn’t it, that it’s only when we have a moment to stop and think that these things affect us so much? I think I’m beginning to understand the Starfleet officer’s tendency to throw themselves into work. ::That was exactly what Vance had been doing. He’d hardly set foot outside of the counsellor’s office and there were still bags sitting unpacked in his quarters. The truth was that it had been easier to focus on helping other people than to truly allow himself the down time that he knew he needed, because that would bring about a confrontation with the experiences he’d had on the Noguwip and the promenade.:: ::This time the laugh was much more genuine and much more honest.:: Sheridan: I think that’s something Starfleet requires you to learn. They just don’t tell you that when you sign up. It’s important to remember to take a break every now and again. ::It was advice that he really needed to heed himself.:: Tiam: Life is far too enjoyable to be a workaholic. ::One corner of her mouth raised in a smile that was only slightly sassy.:: Sheridan: You got that right. ::He leaned forward in his seat, hands on his knees.:: That’s why I’m giving you your discharge papers. ::He had a feeling that their appointment wouldn’t make the dreams go away immediately, but hopefully it had given Sabina the tools she needed to process the resulting anger and find a way to get back to sleep.:: Tiam: I thank you for your time today, counselor. I hope you’ve got at least some leave ahead of you? Sheridan: I… think there’s an outside chance I’ll get a break in the next couple of days. They tend to give you time off for good behaviour, I’ve heard. If those dreams persist then just make sure you call me again, OK? ::As the two said their goodbyes, they stood and Sabina felt considerably better after having talked through the difficulties of the last few days. Going to a counselor was like going to the gym; leaving to get there can be really difficult, but you never regret it once you’ve gone. She hoped the counselor himself had plans for an appointment of his own.:: Tiam: I’m hoping this bit of catharsis will have done the trick, but I know where to go if the issue persists. ::She went to the office door and look back into the room at him as it opened.:: I’ll see you. Hopefully next time under less, ::She looked for the word momentarily.:: trying circumstances. Sheridan: Hopefully so. See you soon, Sabina. ::With a smile and a slight bow of her head, Sabina left the counselor to the rest of his day.:: ::Vance stood looking at the door for a few moments, his mind turning inwards. It was funny how other people’s appointments had the potential to shine a light on the needs of the counsellor who was running them from time to time. He was happy enough that Sabina would be able to move past the incidents from the last few days. Now it was time to take care of his own needs.:: Sheridan: Computer, reassign tomorrow’s appointments to available, on-duty counselling personnel, prioritising Lieutenant Pritzker, and display a list of crew members from outside this department with counselling training… TBC A JP by Lieutenant (j.g.) Sabina Tiam Security Officer Starbase 118 Ops & Lieutenant Vance Sheridan Counsellor Starbase 118 Ops

((Starbase 118: Chief Counsellor’s Office)) (( Time Index: The morning after Peters' night in the bar with Pon Pon )) ::​ ​After one of the most brutal riots in recent memory had taken place on the promenade of Starbase 118, Counsellor Sheridan had very much had his hands full working through appointments with members of the crew.​ ​ Fortunately, the other members of the department had not just been supportive, they had been proactive in putting in extra hours to help to reduce the backlog. Rather than assigning each member of the team to just do one thing, Vance had made sure that their appointments, and his own, were varied. Next on the books was a routine annual evaluation, although he had a feeling the riots would get at least a small mention.​ ​:: ::​ ​The name on the appointment list was familiar. Peters. He’d run into him when things were starting to die down, and he had been in need of medical attention. He’d suffered a blow to the head, and Vance had been responsible for chasing down Dr. Pon to treat him.​ ​:: ::​ ​The door chime rang and Vance responded automatically.​ ​:: Sheridan: Come in! :: Cadfael came into the room and smiled at Vance, though he did hate the fact that ship transfers made it necessary for him to have a mandatory psych eval after reporting for duty aboard each one. It was in the regulations. He could hate it all he wanted, but it didn’t change the fact he had to get one. :: Peters: Hello, sir. ::​ ​The counsellor smiled warmly, and gestured towards the sofa and nearby armchair, indicating that Peters should take a seat.​ ​:: :: The engineer had a seat on the sofa and made himself comfortable. He tried to take a breath and forget momentarily about the fact that the man he was talking to outranked him. Rank was a formality that took place on the bridge and other places that were outside this room, as his former Rodulan counselor, Dr. Kaji, had tried to teach him. :: Sheridan: It’s good to see you looking better than last time we met. You were in a lot of discomfort, so I’m glad Dr. Pon managed to fully patch you up. :: Had it been discomfort from the fact he came in during some sort of a riot or lingering discomfort since the Dunbar? Cadfael didn’t get checked out since then, and a few things had come up since. :: Peters: oO May as well let him get started, then will adjust it as needed. Oo I’m glad for the little fellow too. ::​ ​Vance took a seat himself, ready to formally begin the session.​ ​:: Sheridan: So, it says on my appointment card that we have to take care of your annual evaluation. I thought we’d take care of that and maybe talk a little bit about the riots. If there’s anything else that you’d like to talk about then we should be able to find time to cover that, too. Let’s start in the easiest place. How have you been the past few days? :: The last few days had been awkward, to say the least. His return to the Darwin after his otherworldly experience led to a message he regretted reading. He didn’t know where to begin with his last few days. The letter that crushed his heart, or his reply to it? :: :: He snapped out of his reverie and blinked a few times before speaking. :: Peters: Last few days. Right. :: He took a breath. :: Um… I miss the Victory and certain people on her. I had a friend there that I… I corresponded with her for four years. I thought I felt like I was falling in love with her. And to find out she… :: He closed his eyes and trailed off. He couldn’t finish the thought how he wanted, so settled for a lesser phrase. :: ...and I lost her. She’s a Trill, so I shouldn’t be surprised...but it still hurts. (( Flashback -- Peters’ Quarters, USS Darwin )) :: He set his tool kit down on the coffee table with a sigh. As he entered the room, he saw his console flash with an unread message. Peters' brow furrowed, the only one he'd been expecting any kind of reply from being Ayiana. And, sure enough, this was from her. :: ------ To: Lieutenant JG Cadfael Peters, Engineer, USS Darwin From: Lieutenant JG Ayiana Sevo, Chief Science Officer, USS Victory Cadfael, I wish you could have said goodbye in person, though I heard the orders came while you were on Luxis 3. I guess you didn’t have much choice but to go then. I’m not sure I understand your relief for not being Chief Engineer anymore. If you recall, I was put in charge of Science right after my first mission. It was really tough at first, but I’m getting used to the responsibility. I’m not sure if you realized, but in the end there I was starting to feel something for you. Joined Trills tend to take our time in life, not rushing to decisions or goals; seeing “the big picture,” as it were. But I definitely started to feel something more than friendship with you. I’m sorry you had to hear that through an email. I wish you well on the Darwin and hope you keep in contact. I hear she’s a neat science ship. With the massive damage to the Victory here, I’m now regretting not considering putting in for a transfer to that new Vesta-class ship they just launched. You know how much I love those ships. I’m not sure if Starfleet is going to bother fixing up this old, broken bird. Hope to hear from you. Ayiana ------ :: As he read it, his heart sank into his boots. She returned his love, and he was finding out like this. He didn't know how to react. How could he? He'd just found out that the one friend he had was starting to feel something more than friendship for him, and he was on another ship. With a resigned sigh, he decided not to bother with the shower and headed off for sickbay, leaving the message open on his console. :: (( End Flashback )) ::It was easy for a counsellor to appear to be sympathetic; that was part of doing the job professionally in some cases. Right now, though, Vance didn’t have to try to do anything. He felt a rush of sympathy for Cadfael, and he understood how painful things like that could be.:: Sheridan: I’m sorry to hear that. It’s never easy when you’re hoping something like that will play out the way you want, but it doesn’t. Peters: I spent days thinking how to respond to her. Managed to do so on the way here. (( Flashback -- Shuttle Helwraieth interior, on approach to Starbase 118 )) :: Peters was curled up in his bunk reading a PADD. With a sigh, he began composing another letter to answer a previous one he received while serving aboard the Darwin. :: ---- To: Lieutenant JG Ayiana Sevo, Chief Science Officer, USS Victory From: Lieutenant JG Cadfael Peters, Engineer, Starbase 118 Ops Ayiana, I really wish I could have. Starfleet seems to have other plans for me. I do recall. I don't think I can explain why some people are happy to not be in charge. It's a cultural thing for humans. I didn't know. I still love you, and the fact I'm getting pushed farther away by the brass means that I'm farther away from you. One thing that I don't want to change: the fact we are still friends. I spent time on the Darwin, then the Dunbar, then the Darwin again; though nearly all my time on the Dunbar I spent caught between worlds. Like I was phased out. I was ordered to report to a shuttle instead for a new assignment. I've been transferred to Starbase 118 Ops. Take care of yourself, and I'll be in touch soon. Cadfael ---- (( End Flashback )) Sheridan: That’s good. Hopefully you’ll be able to keep in touch. It may not seem like it now, but things like this usually have a good chance to right themselves, and who knows what might happen in the future? ::​ ​He smiled. He felt hopeful even if the engineer wasn’t thinking in the same way. Where romantic interest was concerned, pride was easily wounded and egos were easily bruised but once the initial shock passed there was usually a chance to mend bridges.​ ​:: Sheridan: Do you think that you have, or that you could create, a good enough network of friends aboard the station to help you get a handle on the way you feel? Would talking to Pon Pon help, for example? :: He sighed heavily and leaned back on the sofa, thinking back to yesterday and the strange social awkwardness that accompanied it -- more specifically, Pon Pon’s attempt at playing matchmaker at the end of his physical. :: Peters: Well...the doc did make me nervous yesterday. He took me to one of the pubs and tried being a matchmaker. (( Flashback -- Sickbay, Deck 503, the previous day )) :: If Cadfael was any judge of emotion, which he wasn’t (it wasn’t a human trait, after all…) , he was certain something was troubling Pon Pon besides the massive influx of patients from the hell breaking​ loose that preceded his arrival. So, with a quizzically arched eyebrow, he asked casually. :: Peters: Something bothering you, doc? ::​ ​Avoiding the question and instead choosing to run the regenerator across Peters’ face and all affected scarred areas, it took only a few moments until the device completed its’ task. Looking down, the​ Pelian blushed once more, not in embarrassment, but rather due to the attractiveness of the officer that lay in the biobed. Attempting to hide his feelings, Pon Pon hopped down towards the floor, hoping that​ the few seconds of silence did not betray his feelings. He was a doctor of course.​ ​:: Pon: ::​ ​C​​​​learing his throat.​ ​:: Pon Pon declares you entirely suitable for duty…. ::​ ​He paused for a second.​ ​:: You can return to party with confidence… yes. Peters: I told you it wasn’t a party. I was just enjoying a drink. Pon: ::Shaking his head.:: Pon Pon does not believe that young attractive engineer does not party. No no…. such a thing is impossible. :: The doc’s reaction came as a surprise, as surely Pon Pon must have some sort of authority on the subject in order to make such an audacious statement. Daring, bold, and the engineer thought perhaps​ ​that maybe Pon Pon was trying to hit on him. Again. ::​ Peters: You seem to think I actually have some kind of relationship or something going on. Hate to tell you this, doc….but you’ll be disappointed to hear I’m a single bachelor. ::​ ​Folding his arms, Pon Pon again shook his head.​ ​:: Pon: Pon Pon will look into this immediately… ::​ ​He looked up towards Peters.​ ​:: Where is party occurring, yes? Peters: oO Persistent little blighter, ain’t he? Oo ::And with that, the Pelian walked towards the door, exiting the sickbay.:: Pon: ::​ ​With a mischievous grin.​ ​:: Lucky for Lieutenant Peters, Pon Pon’s shift just ended. Peters: oO Uh ​o​h. Oo Um...thanks, doc, but that’s not going to be necessary... ::​ ​Refusing to take no for answer, the Pelian dragged the engineer out of the sickbay, and likely out of his comfort zone towards Kael’s Pub.​ ​:: (( End Flashback )) ::​ ​Vance cracked a grin at the thought of the diminutive Pelian acting as someone’s wing man. He couldn’t help but think there was a script for a comedy film in there, somewhere.​ ​:: Sheridan: Did it work?​ Peters: No, no. I’m still single, I still felt over half the crew of the Darwin denied my existence once we were on the Dunbar, and I felt rather invisibile-like because I was caught in between two or three worlds. ::​ ​Vance couldn’t help but notice that the lieutenant was skipping between issues quite quickly. It was quite common in patients who were experiencing anxiety about a number of issues - everyone had a limit to the number of things that their brain could deal with and process all at once. It seemed as though Peters had been ricocheting through a series of events that had all had an impact on his mood, and possibly his confidence as well. This invisibility issue had been referenced before, in jest, by Dr. Pon on the promenade, but it seemed like something that needed to be discussed seriously.​ ​:: Sheridan: That sounds like quite an interesting experience. I would like to hear in more detail why you felt like you were ignored, because I think that’s important. Would you mind taking a minute to describe what being caught between worlds was like, though? ::​ ​The Canadian counsellor shifted in his seat, attention fixed on Peters as he spoke. It was important to try to determine whether or not being exposed to… whatever it was that had caused him to experience this had left a psychological effect, or been as much of a trigger for making him feel like he was being ignored as the way he had perceived the members of the Darwin crew’s behaviour.​ ​:: :: He paused for a moment and ran a hand along his face as he attempted to compose his words. There was a little bit of a story in between...three worlds? Or was it two? Not that it mattered, it was in the past. It was a difficult situation for him to attempt to explain, and even harder to form words. :: Peters: It’s hard to describe. Imagine, for a moment, that you cross the threshold into engineering. You’d heard from your XO that the ship’s engine room is a mess with sparking consoles everywhere, bodies on the floor, wires hanging out of one console leading into the next, held together by duct tape. A’right? Sheridan: ::Nodding to indicate he understood:: OK, I’m with you so far. :: He took a deep breath and continued. :: Peters: In the first reality, I can see it. For only a moment. Then in the...second…? I suddenly see the room change: engineering is pristine, with no jury-rigged consoles. No dead or unconscious bodies, no people in it, nothing. Still with me? Sheridan: Yeah, I think so. Almost like you’re seeing different possible realities? :: That had to be the only explanation for what happened. He was probably affected by some sort of temporal phase shift. And yet, he had to explain the third reality. :: Peters: And in the...I guess it was the third… reality, if you want to consider it as such: I saw the jury-rigged consoles. The crew of the Dunbar, the away team, and….I saw….everything. ::​ ​Vance’s eyebrows furrowed as he tried to imagine what that might be like. It must have been very confusing, and difficult to keep a track of.​ ​:: Sheridan: How about the Darwin crew? What did they do to make you feel like you were invisible? Is it a case of them ignoring you when you tried to directly engage them? Did you feel like you had an issue with some people more than others? ::​ ​It was rare that a large proportion of a starship’s crew would just flat out ignore someone - that tended not to be the way of things in Starfleet. However, Vance knew that Peters wouldn’t feel the way he felt without good reason, and he wanted to examine that.​ ​:: Peters: I could hear my crew, but they didn’t seem to hear me. At all. ​Regardless of what I did. I tried stealing Jorey’s badge to get his attention, and nothing. My hand passed right through him. They weren’t able to hear a [...] thing. Doctor Malon tried reaching out with telepathy to find me, which hurt like hell both times. ::​ ​Vance didn’t know a lot about science, but it sounded like Peters had been phased or something? Putting his hand through another crewmate suggested there was some kind of a reason why they wouldn’t be able to hear him, but that didn’t mean the negative psychological impact of being able to see your crew but not being able to interact with them would be any less.​ ​:: Sheridan: That sounds like it could have been difficult to process. I’m assuming that things returned to normal eventually, though? :: Normal? Is that what it was? Being pulled back through some strange feat of science he didn’t follow and then fixing the problem before he was recalled to the Darwin? No…. it was Starfleet. There was no such thing as normal. :: Peters: About as normal as a Starfleeter’s life gets…. Sheridan: And did you have a chance to interact with the crew after that? ::​ ​He had to wonder whether the lieutenant’s experiences might have made him feel less inclined to speak to them.​ ​:: Peters: I got pulled back into this reality somehow through some science that escapes me. I helped my section of the engineering team seal a hull breach, then we got recalled to the Darwin. I was ordered to a physical, but instead I found transfer orders to the starbase. ::​ ​The fact Cadfael had been ordered to transfer from pillar to post was probably not particularly settling for him either.​ ​:: Sheridan: And then straight into the riots. :: Cadfael gave a faint nod and tried to recall the events, which were probably a little blurry for him. :: Peters: I get here, I find the CO, I go to the promenade. Got clocked in the face and landed at his feet. Hearing in my right ear was shot...Then don’t remember anything until you started talking to me the first time. ::​ ​Vance took in a slow breath through his nose, and leaned forward a little in his seat. He felt like he was up to speed now on things that had been happening in Cadfael’s life recently, and there had been a lot of upheaval.​ ​:: Sheridan: Here’s hoping you get a little bit of a chance to settle down for a while. Being reassigned is one thing, but being bounced from ship to ship is another, I guess. :: The engineer couldn’t help but chuckle at that minor detail. They were in Starfleet, the likelihood of transferring was ridiculously high, as any officer below admiral rank was effectively a pawn who could be moved at the whim of the admiral based on the needs of the fleet. :: Peters: Such is the life of a Starfleet officer, Counselor. You go where the brass tells you to, don’t ask any questions, and if you get the urge to fight it make sure nobody is around to catch you. Sheridan: To a degree, I guess, but rapid transfers between ships don’t tend to happen for extended periods of time. I think it’s fair to say that you haven’t really had chance to catch a breath recently, and it’s been kind of like going from the frying pan and into the fire a couple of times. Would you agree? ::​ ​He didn’t want to put words in Peters’s mouth, but that certainly seemed to be the picture that had been painted.​ ​:: Peters: :: nodded faintly :: I was on the Victory for five months out of the academy, then transferred to the Darwin for nearly two months, then here. So….yeah. I’d say, yes. ::​ ​In that case, making sure Cadfael had a chance to actually catch his breath seemed like the most important thing.​ ​:: Sheridan: Alright, well in that case, I would recommend that you take some time to get to know the station and make the absolute most of your off-duty time. Commander Handley-Page has granted us shore leave, so make sure you have at least a couple of days where you don’t set foot inside your department unless it’s to invite someone to the holodeck, or to go have a meal. Get to know a few people, see how much you can enjoy yourself and just generally try to unwind. :: The Canadian’s description of the commanding officer seemed like an apt description, based on what little he’d seen thus far. The phrasing made it sound like an order, however. Interesting. Perhaps all would make sense once he had time to actually enjoy himself. :: Peters: Any suggestions who I should start with, besides my security buddy Mr. Cumar? ::The fact that the lieutenant was immediately able to name a friend was a good sign that he wouldn’t be taking too long to settle in.:: Sheridan: I guess it’s up to you, really - there’s no good or bad place to start, but maybe someone you’re going to be working with is a good idea. How about… ::​ ​He reached for his PADD, which was on the table near to his seat.:: Ensign Rix? It looks like your paths might cross while you’re on duty, so if you already know him then it might be easier to get your professional relationship off on the right foot. :: The moment in the Watering Hole came and went. He’d seen the Trill, then had the call with Pon Pon and wandered off toward Sickbay. He wouldn’t recognize Rix on sight at this point. :: Peters: Never met the man, actually. ::​ ​Vance shrugged. Everyone would fall into that category to begin with, until Peters had bumped into enough people during his on-duty time or chanced across them in one of the bars. The alternative was to be proactive.​ ​:: Sheridan: Well, it’s just a suggestion, but you never know. Meeting up for a coffee, or a synthale or something might open a few doors, and the more friends you make, the quicker you’ll come to terms with, or even forget, that experience you had on the Darwin. :: The mere mention of the word Darwin left a sour taste in his mouth. He hated the fact that he was only stationed there for a short time, hated the fact that the only good thing to come out of that was an EARS implant, and hated everything about his visibility level. :: Peters: It’d be awesome to hang out with people, yes. Though, as I told the doc, I’m a single bachelor. I don’t know how asking someone for drinks is going to change that. You volunteering to be my wingman for my next bar-crawl? ::​ ​Vance smiled, reminded of the earlier mental image of wingman Pon.​ ​:: Sheridan: You’re sure Dr. Pon wouldn’t be offended? Peters: Not sure at all. Sheridan: If you’re stuck for someone and you need a right hand man out there then I guess I could help. It’s been a while since I did it, though. It’d probably be better if it was somewhere I’m not immediately recognisable as the ship’s counsellor, though, or you mind find people running for the exits. ::​ ​He chuckled at the idea of people fleeing for their lives in case he used some kind of psychological trick to snare them in.​ ​:: :: It was a blasted inconvenience to consider the thought he wasn’t entirely sure of the implications. Would going out with the counselor be better than going out with a Pelian? He had no idea, and it made his brain hurt. :: Peters: I don’t know what the best choices are around here for places to hide. I don’t know anything about this station, really… Sheridan: ...but you will! It will just take some time is all. ::He smiled.:: I’m looking forward either to hearing what you got up to next time we run into each other or getting a call to say you do need a wingman after all. :: The counselor’s apparent vote of confidence made Cadfael sigh a little. He didn’t know what to reply with. So he settled on the most neutral answer he could. :: Peters: I...will be in touch…. ::​ ​Vance was sure that Cadfael would be a lot more sure of himself the next time they spoke. He’d met enough of the crew on Starbase 118 himself to know that they were friendly and accommodating, and all it was going to take was for them to collectively make the engineer feel comfortable enough that he could come out of his shell. Once he’d done that, Vance had a feeling he would be able to take care of being a bachelor as well.​ ​:: Sheridan: Good man. Was there anything else you felt like you wanted to discuss while we’re here? :: He’d woken up in sickbay and didn’t actually know if he knew where his quarters were. His last pub crawl ended with him unconscious, either from drink or another crack on the head he wasn’t sure. :: Peters: I can’t seem to think of anything… ::​ ​Vance lifted his PADD again and ticked a couple of checkboxes at the top of the form he would need to file to mark the annual psych evaluation as complete. There wasn’t anything that looked like it needed to be followed up on his file from previous appointments, so it seemed that they were just about done.​ ​:: Sheridan: Alright, well in that case I think I can declare you as officially not crazy and let you get back to the rest of your day. I’ll catch up with you soon. Peters: oO Soon...right. Wingman in the making. Oo We’ll be in touch. ::​ ​Vance rose from his seat and offered Peters a handshake before he left. When he was on his own in the office once more, he realised that he was going to have to spend a little time refreshing his memory on how to be a good wingman. It would do no good to be called on and fall flat on his face, after all…​ ​:: :: Cadfael shook the man’s hand and took his leave. A hand ran along his face as he tried to get over the fact he just offloaded a ton of information about the last seventy two hours on the counselor, and in the same conversation asked for the guy to be his wingman. It was rather gratifying to have all of that unloaded… :: === Lieutenant JG Cadfael Peters Engineer Starbase 118 Ops & PNPC Lieutenant Vance Sheridan Counsellor Starbase 118 Ops As simmed by: Lt. Cmdr. Chen

((Starbase 118; Deck 507 - CSO Office)) Familiar Voice: Well now, here we are again. Still think I should be the one sitting there though. ::It was said with a laugh, even if what was said sounded a little biting - the friendly tone was enough to disarm Richard. Blinking dumbly up from the sea of paperwork that he was attempting to get through during his shore leave -holding up in his office for hours on end had seemed like a brilliant idea the previous morning- Richard found himself looking at a ghost.:: Grant: Sir. Matthews: Grant! ::Okay, a figurative ghost of sorts. Hollie Grant had been the bane of Richard's carer when he had taken his posting on the Vigilant. While not his aid, Richard had worked directly alongside the first CSO during the Vigilant's launch. When said CSO had been relieved of duty almost immediately after they had gotten the ship into orbit - Relieved of duty wasn't the right term exactly- Richard had done his darndest to hold down the fort until Solor, the replacement CSO could take over. Somehow, during that time he had impressed the higher ups and made it into their good graces. Again, not actually officially becoming the chief's aid, because that position was already filled, but unofficially he'd had the job, and with that unofficial status had come a rather surprising promotion to CSO a short time later.:: ::The real Chief Science officer's aid hadn't taken kindly to being shoehorned - and Richard had had to deal with the very efficient and capable officer's ire as he was offered promotions- effectively stepped over her on the way up the career ladder.:: Grant: Lieutenant Matthews, ::She grinned.:: ::Of course, a few close calls and after a few years of working so close together, a truce had been called and a shaky friendship had formed. When the two had gone their separate ways, they had promised to keep in touch. Richard heading off for Earth and Hollie to her next big adventure in space - where she said she would have to babysit another chief science officer more than likely. They had exchange a transmission here and there, standard how do you do's, anything exciting explode today's? Last time they'd spoke Richard had been bragging about his new posting that he hadn't inherited this time from a dead colleague. Grant had said nothing about having time off or visiting 118 on business.:: Matthews: It's good to see you, don't get me wrong, but why are you here? Grant: I'm reporting for duty, ::She handed him a data padd he hadn't noticed her holding.:: looks like we'll be working together again, do you already have an aid? Matthews: I honestly don't know, just getting settled in, probably haven't met them yet if there is. ::He shrugged.:: The base is a little bigger than ops. Grant: ::Laughing:: Good. Matthews: ::Thumbing through the padd.:: So you're transferring to 118? Grant: I've been here for a couple of weeks, overseeing the transfer of equipment and files. Matthews: that makes 19. Grant: ::Frowning.:: 19 what? Matthews: Vigilant crewmembers that serve here now, T'Lia and Miz are on their way in, Octavi has been heading up the anthropological department for the past six months. Apparently, Stin married his girlfriend and is living onboard as a civilian - they had their first kid and he's doing the stay home dad thing. ::Hollie nodded in that way that said 'yes, I already know exactly what you are telling me.' Even if she hadn't known - it was the little things that used to annoy him about her. Okay, still did, not two minutes into a conversation and he was already running ideas of where to stick her next.:: ::Good thing they were friends now! Or he'd order her to go help Vell do something.:: Matthews: Well since you've been onboard a while, I guess that means I don't have to show you around- ::He would have said something along the lines of 'so show yourself out then,' or 'which means you can leave now, so go on, go.' But the tell tale crackle of his comm badge coming to life silenced him.:: Mboma: =/\=Sir, we have the results back on the satellite.=/\= Grant: What satellite? Matthews: ::Motioning for Hollie to be quite.:: =/\= That's great Mboma, I'm on the way.:: ::He got up, throwing Hollie's padd on the table with all the other ones. He'd get to it later - assuming there was anything there that needed his signature to. But more than likely who ever had ordered and oversaw the transfer before Richard got the job, had dotted all the i's and crossed all the t's. If not he would have been hearing about this a whole lot sooner.:: ::It did beg to question what an officer who any CSO would kill to have serving with them was doing on a starbase, where she was not playing second in command to the science department?:: Matthews: Walk with me. ::like the Vigilant mock two and the Darwin -which thoughts of still made Richard go week in the knees- Starbase 118 boasted to a quite a few decks for the science department. Right now they were on deck 506 -506 and 507 being the main science offices where all the paper work and such was done. In total there were at least 54 levels for his department and Richard loved getting to visit everyone of them. It was why he had been making visits to each level when a minion reported something, as opposed to them just sending him a report to read.:: Grant: So? ::She asked following him down the hallway to the left.:: Matthews: A satellite of unknown origin was brought back from an away mission. It has relevance to the incident a few days ago, when the new command staff took over. Grant: The freak ion storm and the attack. Matthews: One in the same, we've been analyzing it since we got back - er after that whole incident with the riots and such. Grant: What have you found? Matthews: That's what we're about to find out. ((Starbase 118; Deck 548 - Holodeck)) ::Having holodecks for the very purpose of work was a novelty. One that Richard didn't think he would be getting over any time soon. No more kicking people out and having to deal with complaints that their free time had been infringed on, or worse, demanding more time which then made other people want more time. Not that Richard had to deal with scheduling, but he did have to deal with the duty officers who made them, and those guys could be so uptight.:: Matthews: ::Strolling into the room:: What's the word? ::The order of the day was garage meets messy science lab. A facsimile of the satellite that they had brought back, stood in the middle of the room. Just a little off to the side was a bank of computers and monitors, with a lone science officer waiting for them at the station. Mboma: Sir, a lot actually, ::He gestured to the holographic image of the satellite.:: The hardware wasn't too badly damaged. We were able to recover quite a lot from the satellite's onboard computer. It's just kind of usless. Grant: Useless how? Mboma: Well, we had thought that we could deduce the satellite's origins by looking at the programming. That didn't work - different computer languages went into programming the satellite's computer systems. Grant: Meaning? Matthews: That whoever did this didn't want to make it easy on us to find them. But I didn't think we'd track down the culprits that easily. My money was on the hardware. Mboma: And you were right. ::He tapped out a command at the station, and the holographic image exploded into a 3D blue print display.:: We've got the trigger for the storm, a neutrino inverter. Grant: Romulan Tech. Mboma: Yes, and no, ::He smiled, and pointed to one of the monitors.:: See that's a neurtrino inverter, a real one, and that, ::he pointed to a second monitor.:: that is the one we found on the sat. You wouldn't notice by just looking, but the one on the satellite is a fake Romulan neutrino inverter. Grant: It's a fake. Mboma: It's real. Matthews: Explain. Mboma: It's a real inverter, made obvious by the storm we all saw, but it's not Romulan. During the scans we noticed the parts didn't match up. Some are significantly older and more worn than others are. When we looked closer we realized that most of the parts? Federation tech. Matthews: Great, are we scanning the parts to see if they match up with any reported stolen? Mboma: Already on it, nothings shown up yet, but we're only halfway through. Matthews: And everything here could have been procured legally for all we know. ::Worrying his bottom lip.:: Send everything you've got so far to intel, we're turning this over to them. Grant: What? Matthews: The real fake Romulan device could either be a fake to throw suspicion on the Romulans. Or it could be real, but faked to divert our suspicions from the Romulans. Either way this falls under intels territory. They'll have an easier time of figuring this out. Grant: That makes no sense. Matthews: I know, most cloak and dagger stuff makes no sense to me either; it's why I hate spy movies. And why I'm washing my hands of this while I have the chance. Grant: Just like that? Matthews: Yes, of course I'll offer whatever aid the boys in intel might need, but this will fall under the chief intel officer's jurisdiction. Thankfully, I won't have to play CSI . . . again. ::Richard shuddered.:: Mboma: Don't worry sir, I'll handle this, aren't you scheduled for shore leave? Matthews: ::Laughing.:: Yeah, just haven't gotten to that yet. Grant: What? Richard Matthews not jumping at the chance to slack off? Matthews: Quiet you. Alright Mboma, you got this, if you need anything I'm just a comm away, okay? Mboma: Go already, I don't need to deal with you when you're tired and cranky later. Matthews: Hey! I'm always a treat to deal with. ::Richard pretended not to notice the looks that Mboma and Grant shot each other. Treacherous underlings.:: Grant: Come on, if you're on shore leave then it's perfectly fine to catch up over dinner, wings? My treat. Matthews: ::Richard nodded, his momma had taught him not to say no to free food, it was rude.:: And you can tell me why you're hear. Grant: All in due time, shoptalk later, and hey is Kellan around? We have so much to catch up on. Matthews: ::Following along after Grant.:: Yeah, yeah we do. TBC: Lt. Richard Matthews MD Chief Science Officer Starbase 118 Ops

((Tiam's Quarters)) ::Her quarters were illuminated only by the faint dark purple glow of her artificial window. The image of a swirling nebula glittered above the bed of the young Betazoid woman. The countless pillows that adorned her bed were tossed unceremoniously around the room. Her plush comforter had become tangled, wrapped around her legs. Though the room was cool, a thin sheen of sweat had covered her pale skin. Instead of the deep and uninterrupted breaths of a peaceful sleeper, hers were shallow and intermittent.:: ((Dreamscape)) ::Sabina stood in the middle of an elaborate hallway. The marble under her feet was beautifully placed in shimmering spirals of white and silver. The walls too were ornate and covered with tapestries and oil paintings depicting the great history and mythology of her home planet. Paintings of members of Betazed’s ruling houses long gone since the works were commissioned hung alongside gorgeous landscape pieces of some of the most vivid natural wonders of her world. She would learn the names of those people and places by heart one day. She would study them under her mother’s guidance, committing the information to memory as if it were one of the most important things a person could know.:: ::But not today. Today was the last day of her very first visit to the capitol. Being only nine or ten, her father had taken her and was showing her all the places he worked. He was sure to remind her that she too could grow up to live in the capitol, working to make their home the best place it could be. She had prattled on with question after question; wanting to know every detail about the people and places they encountered. Her father had been so good natured, answering all he could. But something had been different that morning. Something about him…:: ::And now, in this fevered memory, she knew what it was. As the realization hit Sabina’s subconscious, The world around her began to rumble. Fear swelled in the young girl’s belly and she ran. Her small footsteps echoed in the hall and she willed her body to move faster. The booming crashes from outside were growing louder, Sabina whipped her head from one side to the other, trying to spot her father in the maze of offices and official chambers.:: ::Breathing heavily now, she called out for him. There were screams outside the building. Tears welled in her dark eyes, obscuring her vision. Finally, her small body collided with the lower half of another, much taller, person. She looked up, desperately hoping for help. Before she could see clearly who it was, the man had already picked her up and was running with her clutched tightly against his chest. It was an embrace she would know anywhere and for the briefest of moments relief washed over her. Her father had found her. He was with her now and she would be safe. Whatever was going on, he would protect her through it.:: ::As he ran out of the building, heading swiftly for it’s annex, Sabina had no choice but to look at what had triggered the chaos. She could see buildings that had stood just yesterday turned to smoking rubble. She saw too that they weren’t the only ones running. So many people filled the walkways that had been lovely yesterday in a panic. Some carried injured, some simply gave in, collapsing there on the pavement in heavy heaps of desperation.:: ::As they reached their destination, a man stood waiting for them. Sabina recognized him as her father’s assistant.:: Bre’eth: Micah! ::He called out to Sabina’s father.:: ::Micah handed Sabina over to him, prompting tearful protests from the child.:: Micah Tiam: Take her! You know the way? ::He referred to the emergency evacuation route all government employees were trained to follow.:: Bre’eth: We’ll wait for you at the checkpoint, just outside the city. Micah Tiam: No. ::She had never heard her father sound so commanding.:: You get her transport back to Ritva as soon as possible. I’ll return when I can. ::There was a moment between the two men that Sabina was not privy to, but whatever reservations Janji Bre’eth might have had were firmly put to bed. The men shared a nod and both began to move. Bre’eth was taking her to safety, taking her home. But Sabina had to watch as her father ran back, straight into the face of danger.:: ::That was when the ground opened in front of her father, stopping him dead in his tracks. Up out of the ground came a creature. A large, serpentine beast covered in a rancid goo faced her father. A mask made of mismatched features adorned the snake’s head, like a Picasso come to life. The creature reared up with a roar-:: ((Present)) ::With a stinging intake of air, Sabina shot up in bed. Her chest heaved as she tried actively to remind herself that she was fine. She was on the Starbase. It was just a dream. That was all.:: ::Slowly, she climbed out of bed, replacing the discarded pillows as she made her way into the living space. Clearly, what she had gone through during their encounter with the telepathic entity and Y-Rocck was still reverberating through her. It gave her chills to know her mind could be read through and manipulated so easily. All her life she had trained to make sure that wasn’t the case. She was young, but she had put in the hours and she was a skilled telepath by any measure. Still, it hadn’t mattered at all to these beings. And know her own memories were her nightmares; her fears and vulnerabilities throttled to the forefront of her mind.:: ::Retrieving a cup of tea from the replicator, Sabina sat on her couch. She pulled one of the throw pillows over and hugged it against her chest with a sigh. Checking the chronometer, she lamented at the early hour. She wanted to call someone. Not out of need, of course. She was fine. She was fine with all of it. What was in the past couldn’t harm her, and nor could her dreams so, there was no real reason to be upset. But still, she wanted to reach out to someone. Maybe just to have them listen, to be witness to her authentically.:: ::But, Misha was traveling and Sabina didn’t think she had quite forged friendships here on the Starbase that would withstand early morning “Hey, how are you? I just had a totally weird dream!” calls. So, she would approach the situation differently. Perhaps she would have to make good on her promise to set an appointment with counseling quicker than she had expected.:: ::For now though, tea. Tea, breakfast, and a little R and R.:: Lt.Jg. Sabina Tiam Tactical Officer SB:118 Ops

((Executive Officer's Office - StarBase 118 ops)) ::It was early in the morning. So early that Sal hadn't even gotten his Rigellian orange cider cool enough to start drinking, he was just sitting and enjoying the heady, peppery citrus smell it had. Early enough that he felt he was alone, that the rest of the station was sleeping and everything was still. So when there was a ring for entry he jumped to attention with a startled expression. He had no appointments, and quite frankly he expected most of the people who wanted to talk to him were still sleeping or nursing hangovers.:: Taybrim: ::Brows knitting in confusion:: Come in? ::The Bajoran man who entered was young, and still bore a nervous energy to his gentle demeanor. Long yellow robes embroidered carefully with traditional swirls and symbols in a light green color swished around his feet and his brown eyes gazed back at the executive officer with a look of awe and conviction. An elaborate and obviously antique Bajoran earring graced his ear, and his hair was swept back in the austere style of the Janalan order of the Bajoran religion. Durial: Lieutenant Commander Taybrim, Sir? ::He dipped his head politely:: I am Prylar Durial Manas. I... I hope I am not interrupting. Taybrim: ::Sal's gaze turned from confusion to curiosity. He waved a hand to a nearby chair.:: Please, Prylar Durial, have a seat. ::he waited, warming his hands on his cider before setting it aside and querying gently:: What brings you here? Durial: I came to ask a favor, Commander. ::He took in a short breath:: I do not mean to seem untoward... ::trailing off:: Taybrim: While things may not always be granted, they may freely be asked. Please, speak your mind. Durial: ::he steadied himself, leaning forward as his voice took on a deeply passionate tone:: Commander, many have suffered in the past days. Some have died. I was approached by two Bajoran families who lost loved ones in the riots, asking for services for the fallen. I agreed, but over the night the Prophets spoke to me. There were more than two who fell, and many who were injured. Perhaps others would appreciate the comfort of having somewhere to grieve and have a memorial to the fallen? Taybrim: ::he nodded slowly, considering it:: What do you propose? Durial: I am unsure how many other faiths are represented on this station, but I know I am the only monk of my order this far out. That said, I do not wish to proselytize, but offer comfort. My order is committed to the well being of others, and I believe it is important to offer a place of peace. ::He paused, chewing his lip as if he realized he was rambling:: There is an empty shop in the Promenade in section 24A. I was hoping it could serve as a temporary memorial and place of remembrance. ::Sal took in the man's innocent, hopeful gaze. He seemed to have both great faith and the charming virtue of youth. The counselor in Sal saw great value in offering solace to those who were mourning, though he wanted a bit more information from the monk. He could tell the man's heart was in the right place - but whether he had a plan in place was a much different question:: Taybrim: Prylar Durial, can you tell me how you would set up your sanctuary? Durial: ::He blinked, looking as if his mind was working faster than his mouth could handle:: It is not elaborate, and not much is needed. A traditional Bajoran sanctuary includes candles to represent the lights of hope, as well as a gong that calls out the passage of the spirit to the prophets. Beyond that there would need to be tables and space for memorials, and chairs for those attending to sit in. The rest must come from the families. At least to remember the fallen. But I am willing to set the space up, and willing to take it down when needed. ::Nodding slowly, he mulled it over. It wasn't surprising that the monk would think in terms of austerity and charity. The whole project seemed to be quite feasible, and while there were always questions of who might be offended by the religious presentation considering the circumstances he believed the simple act of hospitality would far outweigh the possible political throwback. Besides - Durial had asked and acted where others had not. That initiative counted for something:: Taybrim: I believe that sounds quite reasonable. ::beat:: Have you contacted the families of the other victims? Durial: ::The monk nodded:: I have gotten into contact with eight of them who wish to set up a memorial for their loved ones as well as the two Bajoran families who are willing to help tend the sanctuary. There are still some families that I do not have contact information for, but I intend to let all know that they are welcome. Taybrim: ::he picked up a PADD and made a note for the quartermaster, before giving his official sign off on the space:: I believe an offer of peace and hospitality, given freely and with compassion is an integral part of the healing process. Prylar Durial, you have my permission to use that space, and I have sent your authorization to the quartermaster. You will need to meet with her and discuss basic set up. Durial: ::excitement and relief bled through his young features:: Thank you, Commander! I promise good works will be done! Taybrim: ::he nodded:: I trust so. Best wishes on your endeavors, and thank you for offering such a service. ::Sal leaned back as Durial rushed out to start making preparations. He found himself smiling, considering how thankful he was that in the wake of the disaster the station was seeming to pull together to rebuild and renew itself. While he would have preferred that there was never any riots nor vicious demon-aliens, there was a thick thread of hope underneath the pain that seemed to shine through. He made a note to check on the young Bajoran monk later in the day, and see how the sanctuary was recieved. ~*~ tbc ~*~ Lt. Commander Sal Taybrim Executive Officer StarBase 118 Ops and NPC Prylar Durial Manas Janalan Order of the Prophets Starbase 118 Ops

Taybrim: =/\= We have Ambassador Calderan here, she is in need of medical assistance. =/\= Jos: ::That gave the doctor pause.:: =/\= Did you say Ambassador Calderan? =/\= Taybrim: ::he paused, glancing towards Vell and Stevens. Why, yes, that was most certainly Ambassador Calderan.:: =/\= Yes... =/\= Jos: =/\= Nia *%*$*£*&* Calderan? =/\= ::Again said if it was her full and proper name:: Taybrim: ::he blinked several times, taken aback:: =/\= Um, yes. =/\= ::beat:: =/\= And it's just Nia. =/\= Jos: =/\= Just Nia *%*$*£*&* Calderan. Got it. =/\= ::At this point it was hard to tell if he was just being obtuse or if he was doing it on purpose.:: =/\= I'm running out of biobeds, Commander. But I have express orders to treat the Ambassador. How bad is she? =/\=

Awesome stuff! Thanks!

((Promenade, back maintenance corridors - StarBase 118 Ops)) ::They said that one man's tragedy was another man's opportunity. For Lt. Surem nothing could be more true. He heard the rumors, the hushed whispers that these terrible riots and all this destruction were caused by the same saboteurs who crashed the Cerberas into the special ops tower. If only the Resiliency had the resources and the capabilities to bring the Federation to its knees this easily! Surem would be thrilled to wield such power. But that was not the case. The timing was a classic case of red herring, where it simply seems like a logical progression from ion storms and crashed ships to a large scale internal takeover. That didn't mean Surem was going to waste this opportunity. In fact, it was more than he ever could have asked for, all things considered. True, getting around the riots and the crowds was difficult, But Surem had been studying the station and the back ways of getting to where he wanted to go for the better part of two years. Having no interest in pastimes beyond careful preparations for the downfall of the Federation one millimeter at a time, and having every capability of finishing all of her work in an exceedingly timely manner, he had much time to devote to learning all the intricacies of the station and everything a mole providing information to saboteurs would need to know. He had made the majority of the trip unhindered, with only the last few meters being a shoving match between him and the packed crowd. He had to nerve pinch two individuals who were quickly swept away and trampled by the crowd. They didn't even have enough of a mind left to scream as a barrage of feet crushed the life from their bodies. Surem wasn't sorry, nor did he dwell on their deaths. There were darker things for him to attend to today. The quarantine forcefields were up at the security junction, both solid and obviously malfunctioning. The smell of charred flesh hung around them - too much power was being forced through the barrier making it an electrical wall of death. At first Surem thought he would have to hack in and drop them - which might give the station a clue as to his identity and true intentions. But someone had helpfully smashed a hole in the wall some meters down, and while it was disgraceful to wriggle through like a worm, it was also much safer. Inside the security station, power was completely out. No regular lights, no standard air circulation, no security measures. Only the baleful glow of the orangey emergency lights which cast the whole place in looming infernal shadows. The forcefield which kept the saboteur, the criminal, the murderer Ry'van Alstred at bay had completely fallen. The only thing keeping the man in place was the fact that he was locked in his own mind, many years and many light years away. Surem scoffed quietly as he stepped over the rubble and approached the man who was curled up, asleep and sucking his thumb like a small child. Alstred was once a good operative, reliable and subtle. Surem didn't know what went wrong on this mission, but he did know that Alstred was now a dangerous liability, especially since he had suffered his telepathic lobotomy. Still, Alstred knew certain things that were of value to the resiliency. He had to die, but not quite yet. Surem: Rhansu, can you hear me? Alstred: ::Sleepily:: Vorna, is that you? ::a pause, his eyes fluttered open:: It doesn't sound like you. Surem: ::he knelt down:: No, it's big brother Surem. You remember me, right? Alstred: Surem? ::dreamily:: I was supposed to go to a StarBase and meet Surem. I don't like him. Surem: ::With a faintly sadistic smile:: Don't like him, why? Alstred: He's cold... ::he shivered:: He's cruel. Surem: And you're not? Alstred: If I could, I would have my family back and live in peace. Surem: ::Gently:: But your family is dead. Alstred: ::Stubbornly, rising to his knees to blink, unseeing in the darkness:: I will see them again, someday! It will happen. Surem: It will happen sooner than you think. ::He edged closed, close enough to feel Alstred's hot breath upon his neck:: But I need something from you first. Alstred: ::Confused, his blurry eyes were searching:: What could you possibly need from me? ::The Vulcan snapped his hands out, striking faster than a cobra. One hand grabbed the back of Alsred's head, while the other glues itself to his face as the Romulan's eyes snapped one in awareness and horror:: Surem: My mind to your mind... Alstred: ::The words bubbled up in a guttural groan of pain and terror:: NO! NOOOOO! Surem: ::As calm as a frozen lake in an abandoned town:: My thoughts to your thoughts... ::Alstred's protests rose in a crescendo of agony, all of it drowned out by the horrific din coming from the riot outside. No one would hear him scream. And no one would care how a murderer died. Green blood started to drain from Alstred's eyes sockets as the Vulcan tore through his mind, sifting out every bit of useful information before dragging him to the security junction and tossing his ragged body against the crackling quarantine field. The smell of charred copped mingled with urine to create the perfect stench of fear and death as Alstred's body jerked and twitched until the last breath left it. Surem smiled. The man would finally see his sister. It was what he wanted, wasn't it? It was better this way, for everyone. He crawled through the hole in the wall and rejoined the crowd, slipping back towards the back crawlspaces and fading into the darkness of emergency lights and blaring alarms...:: ~*~tbc~*~ pNPC Lieutenant SuremGeochemical SciencesStarBase 118 Ops Simmed by LtCmdr Sal Taybrim FO: StarBase 118 Ops

((Flashback: Counsellor’s Office, USS Einstein, Stardate 239110.15)) ::Since the initial breakthrough with Kellan a few weeks ago, Vance had made little progress. They’d reached the major landmark of Kellan talking to him a little bit, but he felt like he was starting to reach an impasse. He still hadn’t been able to start to address the reasons why Kellan had broken down shortly after being posted to the Einstein. The young Bajoran would really only say just a few words to him before stating that he’d had enough and he wanted to go back. Vance wasn’t even convinced that ‘back’ was Kellan’s quarters. It could have been somewhere else entirely.:: ::All he’d got from the Bajoran so far about his previous service in the fleet were two names. ‘Richard’, with no surname attached, and ‘Greir’. Cross-referencing the names with officers Kellan had served with on the USS Vigilant and the USS Darwin, he found a long list of Richards but only one Greir. Captain Greir Reinard. A brief inquiry showed his current location to be Deep Space 6. Given that Kellan had referred to him as ‘Greir’ rather than by rank suggested that they had been friends. Maybe the captain would be able to shed a little light on who Kellan Joran was. What did he like? What could he share about what he’d been through? If he could pass on anything at all he could use to try to help Kellan open up then it would be well worth the call. You never knew if a senior officer like that was busy, but the worst that could happen would be that the call would fail to connect, in which case he could leave a video message to explain what was happening.:: ::Sitting at the personal terminal on his desk, he tapped a few controls to make contact with DS6, with a specific request to be connected to Captain Reinard, then waited for an answer.:: :: On Deep Space 6, Greir was in his office drinking some green tea with lemon, having just finished a meeting with a representative of the Zakdorn when a call came through for him. He pressed the button and found himself faced with a LtJG with a teal collar. He wondered what the young man wanted. The call had been specifically directed to him. :: Reinard: Good day, you have reached Captain Reinard, what do you need? Sheridan: Captain Reinard? I’m Counsellor Vance Sheridan aboard the USS Einstein. I was wondering if you have a minute to talk about a member of my crew? Ensign Kellan Joran? ::The captain looked friendly enough and Vance was already picking up a vibe that he would do what he could to help him.:: :: Kellan. Greir well remembered the young scientist. The Laudean had tried to help him through some very trying times. He leaned back in his chair and swept his fingers along the blue band of his hairline. :: Reinard: I do. Is something wrong? ::Vance breathed in deeply through his nose and scratched a temple. The answer to the question was yes, but he needed to respect confidentiality, so he could only go into detail where it was absolutely necessary.:: Sheridan: He’s been having... a few problems adjusting to being a member of the Einstein crew. Reinard: Well if there’s anything I can do to help let me know. I served with him before on the Vigilant and was his counsellor at one point too. :: The man obviously wanted something but could totally understand his reluctance to say too much. Greir remembered very well what it was like to wear a teal collar and work with difficulties of the mind. Kellan had been through more than most unfortunately. :: ::Hearing that the captain had served as a counsellor opened up a number of doors. Rather than just being a general request for information with smokescreens obscuring the ins and outs of Kellan’s problems, he could discuss them under the auspices of looking for guidance from a more experienced professional.:: Sheridan: ::Smiling:: OK, that’s a relief. In that case, let’s treat this like a request for professional advice, and then I don’t have to worry about what I do and don’t tell you. Reinard: That works for me. Sheridan: Shortly after joining the Einstein crew, Kellan had a major breakdown. He didn’t show up for a duty shift, and when medical staff eventually overrode the lock on his quarters to see if he was OK, he responded violently. ::Vance hadn’t known the Bajoran very well at the time, but it hardly seemed like something that fit his character. Officers didn’t just break down like that. There was always a reason.:: Sheridan: I mean, I’ve seen his medical files and I know that he was part of an alien experiment, but right now he’s pretty much unresponsive most of the time. It took me a long time to even get him to respond to me, and he’s talking a little bit now, but he won’t say very much. :: Greir thought about it very carefully. The young scientist wasn’t usually violent by nature but he had experienced violence at the young man’s hands before in Ravensville. The more he thought about it, the more it sounded like he was behaving just like he had when he’d been in Ravensville, so what had triggered this? :: Reinard: I was there with him in that alien experiment. We were in a place called Ravensville and he was one of my patients. I have seen him act this way before - unresponsive and I’ve seen violence too but only rarely. Only when he felt trapped and without any other options to protect himself. ::Vance nodded. Survival instinct was a powerful thing, and if Kellan really felt like he was under threat then it was understandable for him to be reacting the way he was. The reality of it all was that he wasn’t under threat at all, so it was Vance’s job to figure out how to help him to understand that.:: Sheridan: Is there anything you can tell me about that place? Anything I might need to know now? Reinard: During that time he played the piano a lot – it was always the same song over and over. He hated to be apart from the piano. Whatever you do don’t let him near a piano. Don’t let him see one, don’t let him hear one. Not unless you want to fall into the rabbit hole with him. ::Vance’s eyebrows lifted and there was a touch of surprise in his green eyes.:: Sheridan: Understood. I’ll make sure he can’t order the computer to let him play anything in his quarters either. He’s being kept there when he’s not talking to me. Eventually I hope to get him out more, but I’m not confident he’d handle it at the moment. ::He barely seemed to be handling the visits to the counsellor’s office.:: Do you think talking about Ravensville is a bad idea then? That it might push him back towards wanting to play the piano and re-create that dependency? Reinard: I’d keep your questions open and while not specifically mentioning or looking for input on it, just allow him to talk about whatever may be bothering him. It’d help if you tried to build a connection with him. I found the more distanced counsellor approach doesn’t work with him. Why not try taking him out. It sounds like he’s pretty cooped up between being stuck in quarters or the counselling suite. ::That sounded quite risky and if it didn’t pay off then Kellan could end up clamming up again. They would be back to square one, and it would be more difficult to retrace their steps to the position they were currently in.:: Sheridan: You think it’s worth gambling like that? Putting him outside his comfort zone? :: Kellan needed something to look forward to if he was going to get better. Otherwise he’d get lost in his own mind, tormenting himself endlessly over whatever it was that was bothering him. After Ravensville he’d seemed to be happier for a while and Greir was aware that he’d started seeing someone. It was a real shame to see things going this way again and he wished he could be there to help Kellan through it once again. :: Reinard: I used to bargain with him. In Ravensville the piano was the only thing he was interested in, so that was the bargaining chip. When he was cooperative with me then he would in turn get something he wanted. Kellan and I used to enjoy cake tasting. You could offer to treat him to lunch if he cooperates with you through a session and tries a little harder to open up. I don’t think you’ll find him to be a problem under these circumstances but if you need to build up some trust first then do lunch in his quarters with the understanding that continued cooperation will see him getting to go out somewhere more interesting. ::It was great to hear how Captain Reinard had dealt with the situation, and the information about the cake was certainly interesting. Giving Kellan what he wanted at the beginning of every session did seem like a counterproductive idea, as that could quickly turn into a dependant relationship. Vance didn’t like the idea of Kellan seeing him as some kind of carer. Playing it the captain’s way and offering him an incentive for co-operation seemed like an excellent idea, and he’d already seen his greatest breakthroughs when Kellan felt like there was something for him to gain.:: Sheridan: You know, that’s really a very good idea. I’m glad I called. I initially managed to get through to him when I told him I’d like us to try to make friends, so I can see what you’re saying about the distant counsellor approach not working. Maybe I’ll start with the cake idea next time we meet and see if that helps him to open up. Otherwise, all he has to look forward to is being taken back to his quarters to sit on his own, which would probably drive me crazy if I was in his shoes. Reinard: Exactly. He’s been moved around a lot lately by the looks of things and it’s difficult for anybody. He had been seeing another crewmember before – Richard Matthews and for a while it was the happiest I’d seen him. I imagine its frustrating that every time he feels like things are starting to look up for him then something happens that spoils it. ::It was good to finally have a surname. If necessary, Vance could look up Richard Matthews and get in touch with him. It was certainly worth checking the ship’s comm logs to find out whether or not Matthews had been trying to get in touch.:: Sheridan: I understand. Maybe he just needs to know he’s safe here, and then we can deal with the reasons why he’s so withdrawn. Starfleet can hand you change without any notice at all, and he needs to be equipped to deal with that. :: Greir nodded in agreement. He’d been moved a few times in the last couple of years himself and knew a great number of people who could tell similar stories. Starfleet did try to move families less often where possible but it was the nature of the organisation that anyone could be asked to move at any time. The golden eyed Laudean really hoped that this man could help Kellan back to a better place mentally and teach him the coping mechanisms that would help keep him from being a constant presence in the counselling wing. :: Reinard: He does and I hope you have great success with him because when he’s not being like this he’s one of the nicest people you could hope to meet, a real joy to be around. He was a good friend. I should try to give him a call sometime just so he knows I’m still thinking about him. ::A smile lit up Vance’s face as he heard that. It said a lot about Greir Reinard that he was friends with an ensign. Most captains kept their distance from the people under their command. Not in this case, it seemed. He wondered what serving under a captain like that might be like. Things on the Einstein were very formal.:: Sheridan: I think that would be fantastic. Do you want me to give you another call if he opens up a bit more? Reinard: Please feel free. If I’m not available right away I’ll make time. Nothing is too much trouble. ::With a smile:: ::Vance leaned back in his seat, pleased with how the conversation had gone. It looked like Captain Reinard was willing to do more than just lend a hand on one isolated occasion.:: Sheridan: You might want to be careful, Sir, or you’ll end up mentoring me through this! ::He laughed. He could definitely handle it on his own, but with Reinard’s help, he would be able to help Kellan to recover more quickly. If they could fit in a call on the comm then that would do him the power of good.:: :: Greir chuckled although he had absolutely no problem at all doing that if it came to it. Everyone needed help at times be it personal or professional. You could stick the Laudean in any job under the sun but he would always be a counsellor, always be that guy you could rely on for help whenever you needed it. Family, friend or stranger, it didn’t matter to Greir, he lived for this sort of thing and it gave him enormous satisfaction to be able to help others in some way. :: Reinard: I’m sure you can cope but you can count on me for whatever support you might need at any time. Now is there anything else I can help with today? Sheridan: I believe that’s it, Sir. Thank you very much for your help. I’m going to get to updating Kellan’s case notes and writing up the revisions to his care plan. Do you have anything interesting happening this afternoon, or will you be hard at work? ::He imagined a captain’s schedule was always pretty full.:: Reinard: I have a couple of meetings, an evaluation and some reports to do. Once I get through with that I have some holodeck time booked. I’m looking forward to trying out a new adventure. Do you have much planned yourself, work aside? ::Vance had a little free time, but no specific plans.:: Sheridan: Nothing on the cards, but I’m thinking of taking a walk on the holodeck once this is all done. Maybe on a mountain trail somewhere. I know the fresh air isn’t real, but it’s good enough to make you feel like you’re out in the open for a short while. Reinard: I agree and I hope you enjoy it. Thank you for getting in touch and good luck with Kellan. Sheridan: Thank you, Sir. I hope you have a good day too. I’ll be in touch as soon as we make any progress. Sheridan out. ::The screen blinked off as the line was severed. Vance was pleased that the conversation had been so productive, and he felt like he had a distinct advantage in the battle to save Kellan Joran from his inner demons. He accessed his records on his terminal and called up Kellan’s files. By the time he hit the holodeck, the next few steps along the road ahead for his Bajoran patient would be clearly defined and, where he’d previously been a little worried about failing to make progress, he was now looking forward to their next meeting.:: End Flashback A JP by Lieutenant (j.g.) Vance Sheridan Counsellor USS Einstein and Captain Greir Reinard Simmed by: Cmdr Renos Commanding Officer USS Darwin

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