“Cyrin & ‘Kara: Charon’s Bonnie and Clyde”
Part X
(The End)
=/\= Sakarra’s Quarters, 9.6 Hours Later =/\=
He watched the memory dissolve, “Afraid of what? I wouldn’t…couldn’t fight back.” He paused a moment the hatred still within him, and increasing. Every fiber of him wanted to hurt something, to lash out, but he wouldn’t let himself succumb to that. He even attempted to push the emotion to the back and repress it. “I am nothing like them!” he hissed through gritted teeth.
He was very close to losing his temper again, “I don’t know!” he added with a growl to her final question. A part of him wondered why that memory had caused such a reaction. Unfortunately he couldn’t hide his thoughts or his feelings from Sakarra as long as she was melded with him.
“You believe it is better to let your hatred fester than to face it? I told you what they feared, but no one knows your own fear better than you, Cyrin Dicari.”
As if on cue, the darkness around them gained momentum again, closing in and lashing out, very much like the young Betazoid wanted to in his despair and frustration.
“Nothing like them? In the way that you might not prey on one you perceive as weaker or defenseless, maybe. And yet you have proven that you will prey on those you fear, finding your own ways to exploit weakness or breach even staunch defenses. Could not fight back? But you have, every day, only not by confronting either them or yourself directly.”
In an instant, Charon’s destroyed ready room flashed before the two young people and then was gone again.
“Be angry with me for pointing out the truth, if you wish. It will not change that which is. Fear the Captain if you must, but be certain it is she you fear and not the unknown. All of us fear the Other, and what the Other will do when he finds out we are afraid. But it is beyond the point of admitting to this utter helplessness that one finds the power to overcome it.”
The dark mists faded away and they were standing in Vulcan’s Forge, T’Khut’s looming bulk casting long shadows on the endless sands.
Just beyond Vulcan’s sister planet, there was a star filled darkness but something was not right, there were lights up there that did not belong, and the distant sound of explosions reached the Vulcan’s ears even in the thin atmosphere of her home.
Not her memory, but no less powerful for it.
“The last thing you want anyone to hear is your own voice saying ‘I am afraid’.” she quoted Surak, even as sickly green fires lit up the skies behind them “The last thing you want to hear your enemy say before you kill him is ‘I am afraid’.”
An unnatural breeze carried scents that were revolting to the young woman’s nose, but she remained still, watching the lights above. Moving, blinking, and here and there, one would flare and then be gone forever.
A million unshed tears burned inside her, but still she simply watched.
“Tilek svi'khaf-spol t'vathu - tilek svi'sha'veh. The spear in the Other’s heart is the spear in your own. You are he.”
She turned towards the young Betazoid next to her, who watched his surroundings with trepidation.
“Yes, they are dying all around us, and through the memories of my kin I remember as well. There are endless reasons to hate. Only one to let go.”
Cyrin took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “Sakarra I did not meant to be disrespectful. You are right, I am not better than they are. I am sorry.” He apologized. The image of the ready room and the disaster he had left it in was an image that he could do without. He already felt regret for doing what he had done.
“I don’t know who or what to fear.” He sighed and his shoulders slouched forward, a position that was rarely seen on Cyrin. He felt defeated, deflated, and chastised.
“A beginning, then.” The young Vulcan stated calmly.
“It takes courage to admit you are lost and helpless, Cyrin. But if only you look closer, being lost gives you a power you never had before.”
Slowly, the scenery around them changed into a peaceful, quiet night. The Watcher had set in the distance, leaving a canopy of velvety darkness above, while the sands at their feet changed from the color of alien blood to a carpet of glittering black and silver. It was the coldest hour before dawn, the time when Sas-a-Shar seemed endless and the plaintive howl of a Sehlat carried for miles through the still and unmoving air.
She might as well have chosen the jungles of Betazed, where an abundance of plants blocked your view of the skies and the path ahead, and every step you took could lead you towards home or deeper into the endless green cathedral of trees. But there was never the same emptiness, or the same promise about the lively jungles as there was in the stark and unforgiving silence of the desert.
Slowly, Sakarra turned on the sands, looking at familiar constellations and the jagged outlines of mountain peaks in the distance.
“When you no longer know whom or what to fear, you might as well cease being afraid. When you no longer know where you are or where to go, any direction will do. The only choice left is the simplest of all. Stay or move on. Die … or live.”
She turned one more time before her level gaze met the young man’s eyes again. “What will it be, Cyrin Dicari? At this point, it does not matter where you go. Any path is as good or bad as the other. Any might lead to joy or ruin. But you are free to choose whatever you wish. Go wherever you wish. Or even stay right here, with your hatred and fear, dead long before you die.
It is all in your hands.”
“I choose…” he knew what he wanted, but he hesitated for a moment. “I choose to move on. I cannot control those actions that have been done, but I can control what I do.” He stated with the utmost of sincerity. “What do I have to lose?” he said to no one in particular as he looked at the sky, “I wish to go now, Sakarra. What is done is done, what I felt I will always feel. Yes?” He asked.
“Yes.” the young woman nodded calmly.
She held out her hand to Cyrin and nodded again, encouragingly.
“Whenever you are ready.”
It was right there, rising to the surface, no longer inhibited by his own destructive feelings. All it would take was the smallest of conscious efforts and he would be able to sense her the way any Betazoid would naturally. Well, a bit more than your average Betazoid, seeing as he now inevitably was keyed to her personal ‘frequency’ and would be able to know her even if all his other senses would be obstructed.
But that was quite alright. She had known this might happen from the start, and her mild expression made it clear she considered this not a burden, but rather just another unexpected small … complication.
One that might very well turn out to be interesting, if not delightful.
‘Infinite Diversity, in another combination’ her outstretched hand said, ‘or partners in crime. Either way, you catch me, I catch you. What’s the worst that could happen?’
“Shall we go?”
Cyrin nodded as he took her hand, “Bonnie and Clyde,” he muttered to himself chuckling slightly. “Let’s go Sakarra.” He commented.
“Who?”
She tilted her head questioningly, his chuckle producing an echo of humor within her. But he merely winked and then looked at the stars twinkling above. Just as he started walking, having obviously decided that uphill was a logical choice, Sakarra realized he had sensed her amusement.
For an instant, her melodious laugh echoed across the desert.
The warm lights of flickering candles played across the young Vulcan’s face as she slowly dropped her hands. She waited patiently until Cyrin became aware of his surroundings again, fully familiar with the brief sensation of disorientation that was perfectly normal after such a long and intense mind meld. But the thin telepathic thread was still there, the sensation of a Betazoid hovering at the edge of her consciousness.
Hailing frequencies open at last.
She simply couldn’t help herself. In a brief moment of mischief, she sent out the friendly telepathic nudge a Betazoid would recognize as “Yes, I heard you.”. Then, all calm and composed, she got up and collected their empty glasses.
“Some more tea, Cyrin Dicari? It is getting rather late, however another few minutes should make little difference, no?”
After the initial disorientation passed Cyrin looked to Sakarra and smiled, “Yes please.” He answered in response. He closed his eyes and felt all the emotions on the ship wash over him, a look of contentment spread across his face as he let the emotions dance across his mind, almost as if reassuring himself that he was no longer blind. Sakarra returned with the tea and handed a glass to Cryin who instinctively blew on it before taking a sip, “Everyone has a face again Sakarra. Thank you.” He commented with much relief and joy in his voice, Sakarra nodded as she took a drink herself.
=/\=
Lieutenant (then Ensign) Sakarra Tyrax
Chief Helms-Vulcan
U.S.S. Charon
&
=/\=
Ensign Cyrin Dicari
Chief Operations Officer
U.S.S. Charon
