“Cyrin & ‘Kara: Charon’s Bonnie and Clyde”
=/\= Sakarra’s Quarters, 6.1 Hours Later =/\=
“I…I guess I was. There was just so much going on. Your voice was almost inaudible in the cacophony that was me.” He added sitting up a bit more. He wanted to sleep, but his desire to have his empathy back outweighed his desire to sleep. He sighed, “I appreciated you respecting my wishes, but I may have to acquiesce to that…you touching my mind.”
If he wasn’t so exhausted he would be more frustrated but the neuropressure that Sakarra performed was actually very relaxing. “The neuropressure was appreciative, though I might not have shown it at that time. I was unprepared is all.” ‘Unprepared for what?’ he thought to himself.
Smiling at her maternal like approach now, he stood up and sat on one of the pieces of furniture in the room, his jacket laying on the floor where Sakarra had pushed it aside. “I heard you Sakarra…if only the storm wasn’t so raw full of energy.” He added knowing they had made slight progress. “I wish to continue, I do not want to give up.” He added watching her.
Sakarra nodded calmly before setting the two glasses of tea on the small coffee table. Hardly unexpected, Cyrin had chosen the only ‘non-Vulcan’ seating arrangement in the room and seemed actually quite comfortable on the large couch.
Personally, she found the thing an affront to any species with a sense of aesthetics, but it served adequately as a retreat for leisurely reading.
She moved around the wrought iron and glass table to sit on the other end of the couch, careful to fold her long legs under the warm and heavy robes.
“I understand your desire to proceed now that you actually experienced that your abilities are still very much intact. However, considering the intensity of the ‘storm’ within your mind I must caution you that even a light mental touch might have unexpected results.”
Picking up the tea, he blew on it before taking a sip. “Yes, perhaps for both parties involved. I cannot subject you to that at this time Sakarra. My logic may be flawed, but would it not be more conducive to calm the violent storm to just a mild storm first?” He asked. “And my abilities may be intact, but I still cannot sense. Normally I would have to filter out the emotions of the crew, but I still cannot sense them. Je ne peux pas sentir mon amour, (Nor can I sense my love)” he said switching to French as naturally as it was for her to switch to Vulcan. Not even sure if Sakarra spoke French. Taking another sip of the tea he looked at her, “So where do we go from here?” He asked, his mood calmer.
“Excelsior, Cyrin Dicari.” This time Sakarra did not bother to hide the gentle humor in her eyes. “Ever upward. What other way is there?”
“And yes, it might be wise to calm the storm before bringing a Vulcan’s … intense nature into the picture. On the other hand.. “she trailed off and tilted her head. No, she had subjected him to enough turbulence already.
This would require a Betazoid approach, no matter how difficult it might prove for her.
“Les petits ruisseaux font les grandes rivières. (The little streams make the big rivers.) You said you had many fears. Taken each by itself, how do you usually deal with them?”
Cyrin was taken aback that Sakarra spoke French, he felt a bit more at ease with her. “I didn’t know you spoke French.” He said surprised.
Taking another sip of the tea, which was by now half empty, he thought about her question on how he handles his fears. “Some of them I repress, others just sit there and come out from time to time, such as my social anxiety or my transporter phobia. Others I deal with as they come. The repressed fears…I try to pretend don’t exist. One of those being…” he took a breath “sick bay. I almost lost my father because of the doctors inability.” He knew that they had done everything possible, but he still thought they could have done more. “I still have him with me, he isn’t dead…but…” he stopped talking, as emotion began to form in his head just feeding the storm. “I don’t know how I deal with them Sakarra…I just do.” He finally answered after his rambling.
“Very little, I must admit. However, the language has an elegance to it that is most appealing.” inhaling the Jestral’s soothing scent, Sakarra noticed the young Betazoid tensing again.
“So you do not deal, but rather avoid. A most dangerous approach. Pretending the storm does not exist is the fastest way to die in it. Or…” she took a small sip of the tea, translating the words in her head rather than confusing Cyrin with ancient Vulcan “to use Surak’s words, if there is a Le-Matya in your house, pretending that there is none will not make it go away. And until you admit that it is there, you will have a Le-Matya in your bed every night.”
Exhaling softly, she set down the glass and let her level gaze rest on it for a few seconds.
“Cast out fear.” she said, more to herself than to the young man in the room with her “There is no room for anything else until you cast out fear…”
“Cast out fear?” He asked, “Fear is an integral part of a person Sakarra, it’s what makes strive to do better… or in my case do worse.” Her theory sounded flawed. “To embrace fear is to embrace oneself.” He wasn’t sure if he had quoted it right but he knew Sakarra would get the jest of the matter as it were. Taking a sip of the tea, the cup warm in his hands, he waited, and thought.
“Oh?” returning her gaze to the young Betazoid, Sakarra quirked a brow.
“If by embracing you mean to acknowledge it’s existence and origin, I agree. However, if I were to allow my fears to remain part of me, I would not be here.”
Folding her fingers in her lap, the young woman continued in her low, melodious voice. “You said it yourself, your fears drove you into a spiral of destruction, they did not keep you from doing harm. To yourself and others.
Now, I am not proposing that the Vulcan way would be best for you. Quite the contrary. Ideally, you should be able to come to terms with your emotions the way any healthy Betazoid would. But since you have chosen a Vulcan to help you ‘navigate the storm’ as it were,…” once more, she couldn’t help but appreciate the inherent humor of the situation, inappropriate as it may be, and her black eyes twinkled. Or maybe it was just candlelight reflecting in those dark pools.
“… it may be helpful to point out our approach differs somewhat.”
Cyrin nodded, not sure what to say, though he did agree that the approaches were different “Sakarra you are not only a Vulcan you are also part Betazoid, so logically you are the best choice to aid, because you can map the complexities of the Betazoid hybrid mind. You have fear, but you have embraced it, fear helps to create a person. But as you said only if they deal with it appropriately. I was driven into a spiral of destruction, and I have done everything I can to stop it.” He took the last sip of his tea, “What do you propose we do now?” He asked.
Sakarra nearly smiled at his ‘embraced’ comment but decided to leave it at that for the moment.
“Now, Cyrin Dicari, I am offering you two ways to deal with the storm. One is the Betazoid way as I understand it, incomplete as my knowledge may be and influenced by observations of a personal nature. The other is an adaptation of the Vulcan way that many off-worlders already practice. To some, like the Buddhist monks of Terra, it is a lifelong commitment. To others, like the people visiting T’Shen monastery, it is a healing experience which may be turbulent but serves as a catalyst. Needless to say, that while I am trained in the latter, I should prefer to at least attempt the former. However, the choice must be yours.”
“Sakarra, I am to the point where I am willing to do anything at this point. If that means subjecting myself to an uncomfortable situation for a few moments…then so be it.” He sighed actually surprised that he was consenting to allow her to touch his mind with her mind. “And before I second guess myself, yes I am sure.” His posture showed a sign of defeat but of acceptance as well.
“As you wish.”
The young woman tilted her head like a little bird, contemplating this.
Then, very slowly and carefully, she raised her hands to Cyrin’s face, stopping mere millimeters before touching the cool, smooth skin of his temples.
Breathing deeply one more time, she studied the apprehension on his face.
Feeling the Vulcan hybrids fingers on his temples, he wasn’t sure he wanted to do this. However, he closed his eyes and nodded to her, unsure of what to expect. Somewhere deep inside him told him this wouldn’t be your atypical mind meld, in fact it was probably going to be far far far worse.
He couldn’t help but think to himself, ‘Let the games begin’ he had learned from his first mind meld with her that she would not go into areas of his mind unannounced, nor would she share with others what she would see. ‘Have I really come this far to trust her?’ He asked, but the obvious answer was ‘yes’.
Immediately, Sakarra felt the resonance of something familiar. Not only the recognition of a mind she had touched before, but the characteristic signs of a Betazoid seeking the ‘other’, however faint and cautiously in this case, and the small but warm smile lingered just a bit longer on her serene face.
If he were not so closed in on himself, this simple touch would have been the equivalent of gates opening so the Betazoid may stroll through and make himself at home. Well, not like she had not experienced that before.
So all that was needed now, was to show a blind man the way out of a storm and make him walk up the path to the house.
How was that terran proverb? Piece of cookie?
Ensign Cyrin Dicari
Chief Operations Officer
Lieutenant (Then Ensign) Sakarra Tyrax