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Ensign Ksivi-Sava - Kaleidoscope

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A really wonderful read full of characterization and humor.  Bravo @Ksivi-Sava!
((Cardassian Embassy, Sannin VII))

Ksivi-Sava: ::slurring, absent-mindedly staring into the distance right above Sherlock’s head:: Very good, sir…

As he tried and mostly failed to steady himself, it seemed to Ksivi-Sava as if the shrill noise resolved into a sensation that wasn’t quite auditory in quality—in fact, something hardly sensory in nature at all. An impression of shifting engulfed him; impossibly strange, yet invoking the faintest idea of familiarity. As his vision faded, his subconscious mind clung to the sensation, scouring his memory for whatever previous brush with something as odd as that it might hold.

((Four years earlier, Family Quarters, SS Winter Refuge))

Only the barest touch upheld the bridge. Five fingers, soft and gentle points of contact in his face, were enough to facilitate a current of sense and sensation, mind and being itself. Peacefully—powerfully—impressions of his closest ones were crossing over to him, unravelling to him with each his mother’s words resonating in his head like echoes of her very essence…

T’Sal: ::placidly:: My mind to your mind. Your thoughts to my thoughts.

It was the most familiar face and the least expressive one. While mother was staring back at Ksivi-Sava in her calm repose, all the glimpses of feelings behind that face flowed past him. There was the most unconditional love a sentient being could possibly bottle… the deepest worry for the well-being of another that nature had ever brought into being… The greatest sadness at farewell never shown… And so much more! A terrible burden of responsibility… a crushing doubt of the self… an unquenchable faith of the heart… A kaleidoscope of emotional intensity, occult to the casual onlooker, invisible to any stranger looking into those cool, expressionlessly loving eyes.

Any such stranger, if passing through the same veil of emotions, would have been utterly crushed by the sheer magnitude of the experience. But Ksivi-Sava was no stranger. He was a Vulcan’s son. Not only did his brain produce half a Vulcan’s emotional intensity—he had also experienced T’Sal’s tapestry of parental love before, and thought it a more than capable surrogate to the shallow expressiveness that so many others were condemned to grow up with.

It also passed quickly as T’Sal carried him on to what she had saved behind her own feelings: This particular mind-meld was to be his father’s going-away gift. Rercik Kava was squatting on a cushion beside them, observing the procedure with his jovial smile in the puffy, lush-green face and the reflections of candlelight in his bald dome. T’Sal had read and taken into her heart his boundless love, dearest farewell wishes and best hopes for Ksivi-Sava’s future, and in their purest and most genuine form. Rercik seemed at serene ease, knowing she would pass on his genuine feelings—in all the exalted intensity that only a parent could ever fathom, and in a clarity that so few had the privilege of ever conveying to their children!

They were dull. Some affection here, some optimism there, plus a good bit of half-baked scepticism about his son’s Starfleet plans. Of course, Ksivi-Sava knew that someone without Vulcan genes would never experience emotions in all their actual strength—in fact, he had experienced such proxy mind melds before. Yet, after passing through the peak of mother’s emotional boundary, it would always leave him surprised at how much less than impressive another one’s inside actually felt. His mind would always have to fight the temptation of disappointment, remind himself of the physiological limitations of non-Vulcan neurotransmitters whenever he felt that sensation of briefly stepping into father’s shoes. It was a brief moment of dull sadness that he knew he could quickly rise above easily enough, and it would pass quickly, but that one brief moment… That one moment of experiencing the depressing inner life of somebody else.

((Present, Cardassian Embassy, Sannin VII))

It didn’t pass this time. But, yes, of course, that’s what the sensation had reminded him of… Still reminded him of, in fact. It was the most peculiar and disorienting thing. It even seemed to Ksivi-Sava that he should be in a different place—in a spatial sense, in an emotional sense, in all the senses… And what was wrong with the colour of his skin? Ah, nothing, in fact. His skin was still grey, the problem was just that he was over there, and not around here. Somehow though, it didn’t terrify him nearly as much as it probably should have… As if he was feeling with father’s brain. But father didn’t have pink skin. Or breasts. He was also taller. On closer inspection, this was all very worrying indeed!

Willow (as Sherlock): Ouch…

Sherlock (as Ksivi-Sava): oONot again!Oo First time?

Ksivi-Sava (as Willow): oO Wh— What? oO Wh— What?

He even had a voice that sounded decidedly not like father… or himself, for that matter.

Aristren (as Taybrim): =/\= Commodore Taybrim to Lieutenants Sherlock, Tito, Trovek. =/\=

Egil (as Tito)/Trovek (as herself): =/\= Response 

Aristren (as Taybrim): =/\= I require a one-word response. There was a noise. Did you hear it as well? And most important, are there any...effects...that you are experiencing? =/\=

Willow (as Sherlock): =/\= Hello? No? 

Except there certainly were! Perhaps if the Lieutenant opened her eyes… What was happening?

Egil (as Tito)/Trovek (as herself): =/\= Response 

Aristren (as Taybrim): =/\= I am fine. But Lieutenants Garev and Aristren are not feeling themselves. Please take appropriate action but....not a word of this. =/\=

Willow (as Sherlock): Quiet. Can do. 

Egil (as Tito)/Trovek (as herself): =/\= Response 

Sherlock (as Ksivi-Sava): Ok, everyone just keep calm.

Willow (as Sherlock): I am calm. ::Her voice sounded harsh, unlike her in tone::

Ksivi-Sava (as Willow): I am unexpectedly calm indeed. Paradoxically, this is worrying.

Sherlock (as Ksivi-Sava): It'll be fine. All we have to do is find the transdimensional beings that live in brown dwarf stars and return them...that's it.

Willow (as Sherlock): The what in the what?

That sounded about right. On a hunch, Ksivi-Sava felt like touching his forehead. There was a thing there. Some part of him might already have expected to find it, but it felt strange nonetheless. He certainly seemed to have all the bits; there was no doubt about it; he was Willow. The what in the what indeed!

Sherlock (as Ksivi-Sava): ::shaking Ksivi-Sava's head:: Nevermind. Look, like the Commodore oOWas it?Oo said, keep this quiet.

Willow (as Sherlock): I can be quiet. 

Ksivi-Sava (as Willow): ::looking directly at Sherlock as Ksivi-Sava:: I believe, the obvious oddity aside, something might be wrong with Lt. Sherlock.

Sherlock (as Ksivi-Sava): What do you mean? I'm Sherlock. Who are you?

Willow (as Sherlock): ::Finally blinking open her eyes, Haukea found herself staring at both herself and Ksivi-Sava, which meant only one conclusion. She was in Sherlock’s body:: I am Haukea-Willow, a Risian in a Human body. 

Ksivi-Sava (as Willow): ::squinting at the others:: That seems to make sense… well, actually, it doesn’t, but it does make sense in that I am Ksivi-Sava. oO No, it still doesn’t make sense. I should be absolutely terrified. oO

Sherlock (as Ksivi-Sava): Response 

Willow (as Sherlock): I am calm, I am not freaking out. But do you know how rare it is for Risian’s to experience negative emotions? 

In spite of the knot on his brain still tightening up rather than loosening, this struck Ksivi-Sava as an interesting piece of the puzzle.

Ksivi-Sava (as Willow): That might actually be one of the reasons I feel unexpectedly… moderately alarmed. I you don’t mind my asking, sir… oO Who is it? Right, it’s the me. The Lt. is the me. oO ::looking at Sherlock as Ksivi-Sava:: Do you, by any chance, feel unexpectedly agitated? oO What a stupid question. oO I’m merely asking because I don’t. Well, not in the negative sense. There is some lingering urge to make sense of things by vocally—

Sherlock (as Ksivi-Sava): Response 

Willow (as Sherlock): I mean it’s possible, not unheard of. However, I’m definitely not used to it. 

Sherlock (as Ksivi-Sava): Response 

Willow (as Sherlock): I must be Haukea if I’m rambling. I’m sorry. I’ll be quiet. 

Ksivi-Sava firmly nodded a head that turned out unexpectedly full of blonde hair. Sherlock was right… yes, it was Sherlock in his body, this would take some getting used to—she was right. And with a distinct lack of uncomfortable awkwardness—or mortifying terror—provided by his brain, he seemed to be inclined to speak more of his mind than was appropriate. After all, there was no telling whether there might be some sort of active surveillance technology in the room. As inconspicuously as he could, he searched for where Willow had put the phaser, just in case. Then again, would he even be able to take proper aim? Use his reflexes? Even his… her… arms felt unexpectedly heavy, which wasn’t terribly surprising, considering the Risian probably didn’t have half-Vulcan muscle structure.

Sherlock (as Ksivi-Sava): Response

Willow (as Sherlock): Response
Ensign Ksivi-Sava
Helm Officer
Starbase 118 Ops



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