Karen Stendhal - Dream in a Capsule

[Karen Stendhal]

Karen Stendhal stepped into the Blue Nebula cafe, the soft hum of the starbase's life support system a comforting backdrop to the lively chatter within. Exhaustion clung to her after a long shift as a counselor on SB 118. All she craved was a drink and a chance to unwind.

Amidst the vibrant hues of the Blue Nebula cafe, Karen Stendhal, the Betazoid counselor with a touch of human charm, found herself immersed in a delightful dream-like state. Her blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing a face that held the serene beauty of her Betazoid heritage, accentuated by piercing blue eyes that reflected the depths of her empathy.
Her striking hair and eye color were a gift from her paternal grandfather, Julien Stendhal, a human of French descent.

The Blue Nebula served as a haven of relaxation and joy, a welcome respite from the demanding life aboard the SB 118 starbase. The air was alive with live music, its melodies intertwining with the holographic displays that cast a vibrant spectrum of colors, infusing the space with an otherworldly luminescence. Games of skill and chance invited patrons to lose themselves in play, offering a delightful diversion from the ordinary. And then, there were the drinks, a harmonious array of flavors and scents that delighted the senses and completed the experience.

Behind the bar, Zix, the amiable Bolian, greeted everyone with a warm smile that matched his genial nature. His hands, reflecting the dexterity characteristic of his heritage, moved with skilled precision. He artfully mixed cocktails that were a visual delight, promising a sensory feast for the palate.

As Karen settled onto a bar stool, her mind began to drift, surrendering to the dream-like ambiance of the Blue Nebula. The music, the lights, the laughter, and the conversations all fused into a harmonious symphony, wrapping her in a comforting embrace that coaxed her into a serene tranquility. Her smile broadened as she caught sight of Zix, the affable Bolian bartender, who welcomed her with an amiable wave.

Zix: Hey, Karen, what can I get you?
He asked.

Stendhal: I’ll have a synthale, please.
Karen said.

Zix: Coming right up.
The Bolian said. He poured her a glass of the amber liquid and handed it to her. Then he had second thoughts and poured it down the bar sink.
Karen stared at him with utter surprise. Zix could be quite eccentric in his craft.

Zix: Sorry, Karen, but I'm not about to tarnish my name with a drink like that. My reputation demands something more extraordinary.
Get ready for a flavor explosion that will send your taste buds on a wild adventure. I'm the bartender with the magic touch, so just trust me!
Zix presented the **Betazoid Bliss** to Karen with a flourish, the cocktail shimmering with star-like specks, promising a taste of the galaxy's wonders.

The Bolian bartender displayed the recipe for the exotic cocktail on a PADD, sharing the intriguing blend with Karen:

**The Betazoid Bliss**

Ingredients:
- 1 oz Aldebaran whiskey
- 1 oz Vulcan brandy
- 1/2 oz Andorian shiver syrup
- 2 oz fresh Plomeek juice
- A splash of Ferengi seltzer
- Crushed ice
- Edible glitter (blue and gold)
- A small, luminous Rodulan ice crystal (for garnish)

Instructions:
1. In a shaker, combine the Aldebaran whiskey, Vulcan brandy, and Andorian shiver syrup.
2. Add the fresh Plomeek juice and a generous amount of crushed ice.
3. Shake vigorously until the mixture is well-chilled.
4. Strain into a chilled glass filled with more crushed ice.
5. Top with a splash of Ferengi seltzer for a fizzy effect.
6. Sprinkle a pinch of edible glitter over the top to mimic the stars.
7. Garnish with a small, luminous Rodulan ice crystal, which gently glows, adding an enchanting light to the drink.

Karen took a taste, and her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. This cocktail was the bomb – fizzy, refreshing, and a perfect balance of sweet and bitter. It hit the spot just right!

Zix: By the way, how was your day?

Stendhal: Busy, as usual. ::She said.:: I had to deal with a lot of emotional issues from the crew and the visitors. You know, the usual stuff: anxiety, depression, loneliness, guilt, angry wives etc.

Zix: That sounds exhausting.
He said sympathetically.

Stendhal: It is, but it’s also rewarding. I like helping people.  
Karen murmured her agreement, the Betazoid Bliss tingling pleasantly on her tongue as she took another sip. A wave of warmth spread down her throat, a comforting sensation that eased the tension in her shoulders.
Stendhal: What about you? How’s business?

Zix leaned in conspiratorially.
Zix : Not bad, huh? The Blue Nebula's a real hive of activity on this starbase. You can always count on something to keep you entertained: live music, holoshows you can dive right into, games to test your skills, and of course, the finest selection of drinks around.

A vibrant tapestry of life unfolded before Karen as she scanned the Blue Nebula. Starfleet officers in crisp uniforms mingled with civilians in casual attire. Traders swapped stories, diplomats negotiated deals, and aliens of all shapes and sizes filled the room with a cacophony of languages. The air buzzed with the energy of a dozen conversations, punctuated by the rhythmic clinking of glasses and the cheerful shouts of friendly competition. Patrons hunched over holographic displays, engrossed in news, sports, or the latest entertainment. A sense of wonder and curiosity tugged at Karen.

Suddenly, a deep voice startled her.
Stendhal: Who's that?

Karen said, gesturing towards a figure in a corner booth. The guy had dark hair, emerald eyes, and a captivating face. Clad in a black leather jacket, a gold pendant glinting at his throat, he seemed engrossed in a book displayed on a PADD.
Zix chuckled.
Zix: Oh, that's Stephyr, :: he said, wiping down a glass with a practiced flourish. :: A writer from Trill, comes here often to lose himself in his stories.

Karen's curiosity piqued.
Stendhal: What kind of stories does he write?
She asked, turning back to Zix. Karen felt a sudden dizziness and everything turned white for a split second. She massaged her forehead, feeling quite exhausted.

As Zix spoke, his gaze darted towards another table for a fleeting moment, though he didn't elaborate.
Zix: Science fiction, mostly,:: he continued. :: Quite the talent, that one. Published several novels and short stories, you see. Right now, Stephyr's tackling a new piece - a starship crewman trapped in a dream world by some alien gizmo. The protagonist gotta find a way out before his mind and identity crumble.

Karen, intrigued, leaned a little closer.
Stendhal: That does sound interesting,:: she admitted, :: and a touch terrifying. Makes you wonder what lurks in the depths of space, doesn't it?

Zix: He is, isn't he? Very imaginative, that Stephyr. I've devoured a couple of his novels myself. Captivating stuff. Loyal fan base, too.
Zix chuckled. He cast a sidelong glance towards Stephyr's table, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Karen, her curiosity piqued, couldn't resist a playful jab.
Stendhal: Loyal fans, that's impressive. Does Stephyr have a significant other, by any chance? His work sounds intriguing.
Karen inquired casually.

Zix chuckled, a knowing glint in his eye.
Zix: Nope, not that I'm aware of. Single and focused on conquering those alien landscapes in his stories, I'd guess. Why do you ask? Intrigued by the writer in black leather?

A blush crept up Karen's cheeks, a telltale sign even for a Betazoid with a quarter human heritage. Her blonde hair and blue eyes, a rarity among her kind, seemed to gleam even brighter under the warmth radiating from her skin.

A sudden wave of attraction washed over Karen towards Stephyr. It was a curious sensation, a cocktail of intrigue and a physical pull she couldn't quite explain. Was it the dark allure of his black leather jacket, the captivating tales he spun on his padd, or something more elusive, an undercurrent she sensed in his aura? Whatever it was, a spark of curiosity and a flicker of excitement ignited within her.

Karen met Zix's gaze with a playful smile.
Stendhal: Maybe I am,:: she admitted. :: Think he'd be interested in chatting with a fellow admirer of the written word?

Zix's smile widened, a knowing glint in his eye.
Zix: He's one of the good ones, Stephyr is. Friendly, open-minded, always up for a conversation. Why not give it a shot? You two might just have something interesting to chat about.

Karen thanked Zix with a grateful smile, the Betazoid Bliss tingling pleasantly in her hand as she clutched the glass. Her steps faltered slightly as she approached Stephyr's table, a knot of nerves twisting in her stomach. A million questions flitted through her mind: what would he say, how would he react? Would this be the night a simple conversation blossomed into something more? Her gaze darted to him, searching for any hint of what lay beneath his surface.

Karen reached his table, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Taking a fortifying breath, she cleared her throat to announce her presence. His head snapped up from his padd, eyes widening in surprise before a warm smile bloomed across his face.

Stephyr: Hi, :: he said.:: Can I help you?

Stendhal: Hi, :: Karen greeted him with a smile, her voice warm and inviting. :: I'm Karen, a counselor here on the starbase. I couldn't help but notice you - you seemed engrossed in something fascinating on your padd. Mind if I join you?

Stephyr: Absolutely! Please, make yourself comfortable.:: Stephyr's smile widened as he looked up from his padd. :: Please, by all means. I'm Rian Stephyr, by the way. Writer at your service. Looks like Zix spilled the beans already, huh?

He gestured to the empty chair across from him. She sat down and placed her synthale on the table. He closed his PADD and put it aside. He looked at her with interest.
Rian chuckled, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.
Stephyr: So, the counselor has infiltrated the writer's den! Tell me, do you specialize in deciphering the madness that fuels our creative minds?

Stendhal: It's about being there for people, :: Karen said softly, her eyes filled with genuine warmth. :: Listening to their burdens, feeling their pain, and helping them find the strength within themselves to move forward. Sometimes a kind word and a listening ear can make all the difference. Being a Betazoid allows me to connect with them on a deeper level, to understand what words might not express.

Rian chuckled, a playful glint in his eyes.
Stephyr: Well, this just got interesting. A telepathic counselor? Does that mean you already know all my deepest, darkest secrets?

Stendhal: Yes, I'm Betazoid, with a touch of human heritage that explains the blonde hair and blue eyes,:: Karen explained. :: It also grants me telepathic abilities, but rest assured, I respect people's privacy. My role is to listen and guide, not pry.

Stephyr: A telepathic counselor with human ancestry? That's fascinating.
Rian said, leaning in slightly.

Stendhal: Yes, it is. I’m one of a kind.
She said.

Stephyr: I like that. You’re unique and special.
He smiled.

Stendhal: Thank you, you're too sweet, :: Karen chuckled, her smile sparkling. :: So, a writer! Do you spill all your deepest secrets onto the page, or do you keep some for your characters?
She smiled back.

Stephyr: Science fiction, not so many secrets, huh? :: Rian's eyes lit up with a spark of excitement. :: That's where my imagination runs wild too. I love exploring the possibilities of what lies beyond, crafting worlds unlike anything we've ever seen. It's about creating characters who face new challenges, pushing the boundaries of what's possible. Ultimately, I hope my stories entertain and inspire readers to look at the universe with fresh eyes.
He said.

Stendhal: That's amazing! :: Karen exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with genuine interest. :: It's my absolute favorite genre too!  Tell me all about your current project - what kind of world are you building? What kind of characters are you taking on this adventure?

Stephyr: A starship counselour, lost in her dreams  world by an alien device... :: Rian's voice trailed off, a flicker of fascination crossing his eyes. :: Intriguing. Is she fighting fantastical creatures, or is the enemy more insidious? How is he holding onto his sense of self when his very reality is crumbling? She has to find a way to escape before she loses her sanity and her identity!

Karen's breath hitched.
Stendhal: Wait, that's the story? :: She exclaimed, her eyes wide with a mix of surprise and suspicion. :: The one Zix told me about? He said you were working on it...
Her voice trailed off, unspoken questions hanging in the air.

He frowned.
Stephyr: Zix? Who’s Zix?

Stendhal: The bartender. The Bolian. He’s the one who told me about you.
She said.

Rian's smile vanished, replaced by a flicker of unease that danced in his eyes. He shook his head slowly, his voice dropping to a low murmur.
Stephyr: Zix? A Bolian bartender? I don't know anyone by those names. Are you sure you have the right person?

Karen's heart hammered against her ribs. A cold sweat prickled her skin as she whipped her head around, searching for the source of the unsettling silence. The warmth and bustle of the cafe had vanished, replaced by an oppressive darkness. Gone were the vibrant faces, the cheerful chatter, the pulsing music, and the glow of the holoscreens. Even the faint hum of the game machines and the clinking of glasses had been swallowed by a deafening quiet. Panic clawed at her throat as she realized she was utterly alone.

A primal scream ripped from Karen's throat as the world around her dissolved into a nightmare.  Gone was the cafe, replaced by an inky void illuminated only by the sickly glow of the device pulsating against her temple.  Rian, the charming writer, was a grotesque mockery of his former self.  His form writhed and contorted, revealing a horrifying amalgamation of flesh and carapace.  Tentacles lashed out, dripping with an otherworldly slime, and monstrous mandibles gnashed with inhuman hunger. Karen's vision swam as a wave of nausea crashed over her, but terror kept her rooted to the spot. This wasn't a dream, it was a waking nightmare, and the alien entity holding the control device attached to her head reveled in her absolute terror.

A chilling rasp escaped his throat, a twisted parody of laughter.
Stephyr Thing: Welcome to my world, Karen, :: he hissed, his voice laced with a predator's satisfaction. :: You're trapped within the confines of my creation. But, :: his voice took on a sly, cruel edge, :: perhaps a particularly entertaining plaything can earn a sliver of freedom.  Perform well, Karen, and who knows? Your story might have a slightly less... grim ending.

Oblivious to the truth, Karen reveled in the vibrant world of the Blue Nebula. Little did she know, this fantastical experience was a meticulously crafted illusion. In reality, she lay dormant within a stasis chamber, her mind a captive audience to an elaborate simulation. A team of doctors on Betazed, led by the enigmatic Doctor Roger Reventlov, monitored her every dreamlike step, ensuring her fragile psyche remained safe within this fabricated reality. As Karen delved deeper into the dreamscape, she encountered a captivating cast of characters, each one harboring secrets as intriguing as the very nature of her own existence.
At times, the idyllic dream would shatter into a chilling nightmare, mirroring Karen's arduous journey towards healing and her desperate yearning to break free from the confines of her subconscious.

Edited April 12 by Karen Stendhal