Tuesday, October 13, 2009

[USS Charon] SD 240910.13 | Joint Backlog Part III | Lt. Tyrax, CHO & Ens. Dicari, COP

“Cyrin & ‘Kara: Charon’s Bonnie and Clyde”
Part III




=/\= Sakarra’s Quarters, 5.8 Hours Later =/\=


He watched the flame continue to dance and thought about her question… what did he fear. It was obvious that he feared living blind for the rest of his life, but what did he really fear?
“I… I fear what I am capable of, the things I am capable of doing.” He answered, though his mind was still going through all of his fears, including his social anxiety, his transporter phobia, and many many more. “That pirouette was so easy…” he said letting his thoughts drift off.


Again, the young half-Vulcan nodded silently. It was a start at least.
Pthak svi'zherka -- dan-karik heh dan-khrashik - Fear is among the strongest and most violent of the emotions. The only thing worse than giving in to it, is to deny it’s existence.”
Sakarra was fully aware that for Betazoids it was … different. But finally she thought she had caught at least a glimpse of what the true problem might be.


“You fear the things you are capable of? And yet here you are, trusting and not trusting, wishing to let go of your fear and clinging to it.”
Her fingertips still resting against his shoulders, she could feel him tense again, in the ancient reflex of fight or flight.
“Why do you fight me, Cyrin Dicari? Is it because you fear what you might do to me? Or is it rather that despite everything, you do not wish me to see what you yourself are unwilling to face?”


The young woman exhaled slowly, gathering her composure as much for his sake as her own. Then, swiftly and silently, she got up again and moved towards the middle of the room, motioning for Cyrin to follow.
Looking at his puzzled face, she breathed again, deeply. This was going to be … difficult.


He thought about her words as she released him and moved towards the middle of the room. The questions she posed to him had justification, but they were just so damned unfair. He could feel anger build up in him at such paradoxical questions.
Was she purposely trying to egg him on like this, or was he completely irrational because what she said held merit. When she motioned for him to follow a part of him wanted to remain watching the candle, another part wanted to dash out of the room never to return, another part was angry at her, and yet the biggest part was puzzled.
He would see this through to the end. He stood up and grabbed his side where he had broken his ribs, though they were healed that side still gave him problems from time to time, wincing a bit in pain he took a deep breath before walking over to her.


“You are angry with me? Your entire stance suggests so. Very well. It should reinforce my point.”
Sakarra waited for Cyrin to come to a halt before her and then slowly spread her arms rising on her toes as she had seen ballerinas do so many times, recalling every move within her mind while keeping her senses focused on staying balanced.


“You believe Vulcans know no fear? Many people do, and maybe it is just as well. Although one day you might wish to ask yourself just why we are they way we are.”
She had reached a point of definitive discomfort but continued on, hands now high above her head, standing on nothing more than her bare toes.
Hardly possible to present oneself in a more vulnerable position, because even the slightest nudge would throw her off balance now and send her crashing to the floor. Quite painfully, too.


“So tell me then, Cyrin Dicari. If I fall, and I will, since it is astonishing I even got this far, will you catch me? Angry as you are with me, confused and hurt, and afraid of what you may or may not do right or wrong, I still believe you will reach out and prevent me from coming to harm. Yes, there is a possibility you may not. But if I cannot believe that you will, there is no point to any of this.”


Bracing herself for either another humanoid’s touch or a short and unpleasant encounter with the floor, she breathed once more and then finally allowed her straining legs to buckle. Maybe hitting the floor would be just a tad less painful.


He listened to her, ‘Reinforce her point… what is she talking about? Angry at her? Am I?’ he thought to himself.
As she reached the point of being on her toes he moved slightly, neither away nor towards her. He watched as her legs buckled under her it took him barely half a breath to fall to his knees forcing himself to slide under her to take the brunt of her weight and most of her fall.
He caught her by her shoulders as she came crashing down. Slowly lowering her to the floor his side screaming at him and his knees bearing rug burns from the tearing of the material, he allowed himself to breathe,


“That was highly illogical, and how could you think I am angry at you!?” He exclaimed almost infuriated with her odd behavior. When he thought about even his own behavior was odd. He hoped he didn’t hurt her, “Are you okay Ensign?” He asked. “Don’t do that again, you could have hurt yourself more so than you know, I have seen professional ballet dancers ruin their entire career because of a fall like that, and they are trained!”


“You are hardly…” Sakarra’s breath briefly caught in her throat as her entire nervous system painfully screamed from the double overload.
The shock of crashing into a Betazoid and his tight grip on her shoulders, that she might have been able to deal with.
But as expected, the all out physical contact had let the thin mental thread between them flare to life and sharply conveyed his now truly quite obvious anger, mixed with fear, confusion and ... oh, way too much.
“… hardly in a position to lecture me about illogical behavior, Cyrin.”


Stretched out on the floor, she slowly regained her composure and took stock of her physical condition. Not too bad, all things considered. Ow.


When she noticed his black eyes glaring down at her in a unabashed display of major irritation, a tiny chuckle fought to rise to the surface. But in his current state, he might very well take that the wrong way. There was a wisdom to showing nothing but perfect equanimity that went beyond simply keeping one’s own emotions from causing damage.
But she could not help a soft undertone echoing in her level, melodious voice when she studied his unhappy face. So much hurt…


“Ruin their career you say? How fortunate for me then that you did not hesitate to break my fall. Now while I must ask you to forgive my … unorthodox approach, I believe I should point out that before entering Starfleet my occupation was that of a fighter pilot. As such, I tend to prefer a direct approach, especially when outgunned or faced with overwhelming resistance.”
Pulling herself up into a sitting position, Sakarra reflexively rubbed her shoulder.
“The question now is, do you doubt that I would trust you to catch me again? Under whatever circumstance?”


“I do not doubt your trust, but why give it so freely… especially to someone like me?” He asked her. “I do not mean to resist you, but…” he paused for a moment, still on his knees.
The pain and realization of what he had just done hitting him like a ton of bricks. “I don’t know what I am anymore. Am I Cyrin Dicari? Am I a want-to-be assassin? Who am I? What am I afraid of? Myself, you, the universe? I don’t know. A great philosopher once said fear fear itself. And here I am as you said both trusting and untrusting, fearing that I am capable of inflicting harm unto others, fearing it but clinging onto it because it is my security blanket. I don’t want others to see my weaknesses. You have already experienced one of them in sickbay, and now here I am rambling on like…like a…like a frightened child screaming for their mother!” He exclaimed, his voice shaking, his body shaking.


“And why should I not give it freely?”
This time, Sakarra did not quite touch him although she very much wanted to at least help him release some of the terrible tension that the onslaught of overwhelming emotions had created and that had him shaking like a Tarna under a rainstorm.
Instead, she reached out to him, slowly and deliberately stopping her open hands halfway between them. Inviting, waiting.
“What I experienced in sickbay was much pain and regret, and a mind ready to close in on itself, but nothing that would make me believe I cannot trust.
As you have proven just now that when the situation calls for it, you will not fail even a most illogically behaving Vulcan. If you do not know what or who else you are, be certain that this was Cyrin Dicari.”


Her immensely dark eyes rested on him, waiting calmly for the one other thing she knew would have to reassert itself - the Betazoid’s very own instinct to reach out to another, even and especially when in distress.
“Fearing fear itself? Only if that allows you to accept it for what it is.”



Ensign Cyrin Dicari

Chief Operations Officer

U.S.S. Charon





Lieutenant (Then Ensign) Sakarra Tyrax

Chief Helms-Vulcan

U.S.S. Charon