Saturday, January 9, 2010

[USS Charon] SD241001.09 || Joint Log "Pain and Healing" Part I || MCapt Nikolai Chernienko, Lt Cmdr Sakarra Tyrax

 

[USS Charon, Deck Three]

 

Being summoned by an irate nurse was not something Sakarra relished under any circumstance, however in this case she was slightly grateful it had for once not been her the medical personnel was displeased with. Still, there was cause for concern, judging from the agitation in the woman's voice, let alone the frown on her face, transmitted clearly over the screen.

"I will be there presently, nurse."

"Thank you Commander, and I'm sorry for disturbing you this late, but…"

"I understand. If you would kindly inform the staff they need not bother to assist, I will find the way without disturbing anyone."

"Yes of course. Sickbay out."

The screen dissolved and the young Vulcan got out of the chair behind her desk in one fluid motion.

Mr Chernienko had proven to be a stubborn man indeed, first in surviving his ordeal in the NeoDyne laboratories and then with his determination to recover. Hardly surprising he would be stubborn in other matters as well.

 

She decided a change of attire was hardly necessary, at such a late hour the corridors would be mostly deserted, and the few crewmembers bound to see her would hardly be able to recognize the light, casual robe for what it was – something usually only worn inside one's own house, or quarters as it were. She smoothed down the silken, apricot colored robe with one hand and selected a warm mantle from her closet before gliding silently out of the door.

 

 

[USS Charon, Sickbay]

 

As expected, the lights were dimmed and the few patients still under observation seemed to be resting comfortably. The doctor on duty gave the young Vulcan a brief wave of greeting, apparently having been informed of this unscheduled visit, and Sakarra made her way to the secluded room that housed the injured Marine.

Her first impression was that the nurse might have in fact understated the matter, because his body language was that of a man experiencing more than minor but unnerving pain. Then she realized it was because she was now keyed to his even more subtle clues that she could see what most others most likely would not.

Exhaling softly, Sakarra briefly shook her head, which caused some of the long black tresses that freely spilled down towards her hips to fall over her shoulders.

"Good evening, Nikolai. I have been told you are unable to sleep?"

 

Nikolai's body was burning from the inside, that was the only way he could describe it. The pain echoed through him in waves as unstoppable as a tsunami but he remained sitting upright. His legs were under a small stool that rested near the bed and he was attempting to lift it as if he were doing weight training. Each movement caused him more and more agony but he fought through it as best he could.

 

When he heard Sakarra enter the room he turned his head toward her and gave a polite bow to her. "Sakarravich Dobry vyecher." he said to her as he noticed her attire and couldn't help but raise an eyebrow."I have slept enough.. I must continue to build my strength..Four times I have fallen on the training bars I will not do a fifth." he said to her seriously. After one more attempt at trying to lift the stool with his weakened legs he turned his full attention to the lovely young Vulcan. "I am honored that you would consider my sickbed a part of your home." he said gesturing toward the house robe curiously.

 

Quirking a good-natured brow, Sakarra shook her head again, letting the heavy mantle slide off her shoulders before she placed it neatly over a chair.

"It is hardly a home, no? Although I will concede it seemed quite illogical to change into more formal attire."

Truth be told, she was yet again impressed he would have noticed, and then smiled inwardly at herself when she realized she should not have been surprised. Most likely he would also draw the correct conclusion that a Vulcan would hardly have considered this .. informality … unless on personal terms with the individual she was visiting.

"Would you allow me?"

She gestured towards the replicator next to the chair he was sitting in, letting her gaze linger on his pain filled blue eyes.

 

Nikolai leaned back in the chair and breathed out trying to mask the pain he was in from his friend. After the treatments he did feel that he could call her one and perhaps something closer than a casual friend. "Of course I welcome the company." he said and pulled the other chair in the room over closer to the replicator and his own chair so that she would have a place to sit down.

 

Inclining her head slowly and graciously, the young woman silently walked to the replicator and ordered some Vulcan spice tea before giving the tall Russian a questioning look.

 

 "Just water for me. I am trying to purify my system." he said to her kindly in his deep accented voice, it was edged with pain from the falls earlier in the day. "I am surprised you are here this early in the morning Sakarravich, would I be right in assuming the meddlesome doctor called you about my uncooperative attitude?" he said with a slight laugh.

 

"Indeed you would." Sakarra replied levelly, although there was both an echo of mild humor and concern about her when she handed a glass of cold water to the Marine.

"That and the fact you seem to be experiencing undue pain which prevents you from getting the necessary rest."

She settled languidly in the offered chair, stretching her long legs out before her. While her posture was straight-backed and upright as usual, there was a graceful ease to the way the young Vulcan settled her hands on the armrests.

"I can certainly relate to the wish of spending no more time in a weakened state than is unavoidable. However, may I point out that a too aggressive approach may prove counter-productive?"

 

He sighed a little knowing that it would be useless to argue with his new friend. Her logical analysis would always out flank his stubborn arguments. "Perhaps you are right, but I have to at least show some semblance of strength when the Captain comes to visit me. Romulans attack weakness on sight; it is like blood to a school of sharks. If I am to remain on this ship I have to prove myself strong enough to Interest the... Captain. This task is already going to be next to impossible given my already tarnished record. And even if she was capable of it I don't want to be brought back on board by pity." he said to her trying to explain the complicated thoughts in his mind.

 

The young Vulcan listened silently and then picked up her tea, nodding slowly.

"Ruskarau na'y-veh." She murmured quietly and let out a long breath.

"Your reasoning has merit, … Nikolai. It may be as unwise to show weakness to one of the Sundered as it would be doing so towards a Vulcan with less than … benevolent intentions. Your logic however is flawed. Physical prowess alone will hardly impress one born of either race."

Deep in thought, she took a sip of the soothingly hot tea and returned her night black gaze to the imposing figure sitting across from her.

"I will not claim to be an expert on the Captain or the Sundered for that matter. Quite the opposite is true. But I submit that one who has already managed to prove strength in more than one way will hardly need to inflict harm on himself to demonstrate more."

 

Almost absentmindedly, her small hand trailed the line of her neck where some bruises had faded long ago. It had not been his ability to inflict physical harm in his condition that had sparked her interest back then, although one could certainly call it impressive.

"You have asked me why, on more than one occasion. Why I appear to go beyond what one might expect from a Vulcan who has been asked to assist. Do you still wonder?"

 

The large marine nodded softly. "Yes I still wonder why you would bother. But I am grateful for your assistance." he said to her and watched her rub her neck. He scowled remembering that he had tried to kill her at their first meeting."Did you get yourself checked out after I attacked you?" he asked her after a moment. He did feel bad about what he did to her.

 

Waving a small hand dismissively, the young Vulcan shook her head "It was not necessary. Fortunately, you could be persuaded to cease your efforts before serious damage was done. Still, I cannot help but find it fitting that our first … encounter should have involved you surprising me, considering you continue to do so as a matter of course."

She took another sip of the tea and then set down the glass, folding her fingers under her chin while her serene features lit up in the pre-dawn of a smile.

"Which partially answers your other question. Yes, I was and still am convinced my actions are imminently logical. But c'thia is not pure, cold reason alone as many outworlders tend to believe. It is truth, and reality, and much more."

 

Tilting her head to one side, Sakarra studied the blue eyes resting on her and once more exhaled at the obvious signs of severe discomfort. She got out of the chair in one fluid motion and returned to the replicator, accessing some culture-specific files and nodded when she found what she had been looking for. Within seconds, something vaguely resembling a thick, elaborately folded woolen blanket appeared, along with a small copper bowl filled with fragrant wood chips.

The young Vulcan carefully set the bowl on the table and a conveniently provided lighter made the content glow, causing a calming, warm scent to waft through the room.

 

"You have any number of reasons to mistrust me, or to be taken aback on account of my appearance and heritage alone. You could have declined my assistance that first day, and many times after, and been well within your rights to do so. Instead, you continue to offer what to a Vulcan is perhaps the most precious gift one can receive – your diversity, in all its many facets, without reservation, trusting without having any proof that I will respect the integrity of your mind."

 

 

 

[To be continued ... ]

 

Lieutenant Commander Sakarra Tyrax
Chief Helm Officer
&
Marine Captain Nikolai Chernienko
Platoon Leader

 

USS Charon

 

 

 

"Ruskarau na'y-veh" (Nel-Gathelk) –  Lit. I comprehend.    Fig. I get your point