Wednesday, March 24, 2010

[USS Charon] SD241003.24 || Joint BackLog "Charon Prison Blues" Part XIII || Amb Ian Lamont, Lt Cmdr Sakarra Tyrax

[USS Charon, Brig]

 

Not a happy chapter.

She shook her head, wordless melancholy shimmering in the mists around them. Somewhere behind the serene clouds, the harsh truth of it all was waiting, but she was no stranger to grief and loss.

'I will be fine.'

It was not a mere reassurance, an automated response. Chiseled in stone, the words conveyed a simple fact. There was naught this memory had stirred that Sakarra had not faced before, countless times. And after all was said and done, this was him, too. Another gem shared, not a sparkling emerald shimmering in the sunlight, but a dark and cold diamond sleeping in the earth. It was no less unique and precious for it.

 

His face brightened suddenly. "I..often think of my home and its beauty and splendor. It makes me happy beyond words that I was able to share such a thing…with you."

 

His mind moved toward hers and he reached out pulling her close. Moved by the memories and indeed this entire experience he smiled staring into her soul and then moved to her face and placed a single kiss upon her cheek.

 

"Thank you Sakarra for such a remarkable gift and experience", he said at just a whisper near her ear.  "I believe I am beginning to understand some small fragment of the delicate and private yet harmonious and profound nature of your kind. I..have no words only feelings. For once I cannot think of what to say."

 

Ian suddenly realized that words were only a small piece of this sharing. Communication was as much about ideas, images, memories, feelings, passion, in addition to words. Joined like this two individuals could share their very souls with one another without uttering a word. It was something so deep that no human could understand without experiencing the link. It was wholly beyond words ability to describe.

 

He so wanted to embrace her here, now and tell her many more things – yet such a thing was not possible. He could not be so selfish nor so forward. He cherished their friendship too much to damage it with mere human emotional frailties which she did not share. With a heavy heart he stepped back from her with a large smile unable to withhold his wonder and awe.

"Know this Sakarra. You have given me something the likes of which I can never repay and I am forever in your debt. Should you ever require something which I may be able to provide never hesitate to ask anything of me."

 

'There is no debt, Ian Lamont. There can never be.'

Surrounded by affection as if wrapped in a blanket of the finest spun wool, the young Vulcan found her humor sparked by his renewed enthusiasm. If there seemed to be something else lingering behind the obvious, beyond the profound delight of discovering what it was to touch another's mind and the deeply fond regard sparkling over her like spring rains, she made no attempt to touch it. Even if there was a glimmer of what she was beginning to suspect, it might well be an echo of memories, mingling with recent experience and coalescing into an emotion he might not even be fully aware of himself. And if he were to look at it closely before it dispersed, he might be slightly embarrassed.

Still, if the warm regard she sensed from him in barely restrained abundance should remain, Sakarra would be well content. Just as she would remember the not at all restrained show of affection and gratitude, the silent kiss brushing across her mind in a shower of glittering colors, as proof that under the good ambassador's carefully maintained polite and distant demeanor was a person capable of acting on impulse, pulling an enchanted Vulcan through his long lost home with a cheerful smile.

 

For a split second, rigidly maintained shields turned from forbidding walls to thin veils, wafting in the breeze. Far in the distance, a star burned over forbidding deserts and majestic mountains, gleaming oceans and ancient trees – like thunder the image rolled through her, casting its echo towards the other mind, and received a response. Faint and uncertain, it was there.

A memory, like a dream long forgotten, sunk to the deepest recess of the subconscious.

 

'Nam-tor u'sha'yut. It is our way. No debts, only gratitude. And if you will remember the one whose gift still lingers with you with gratitude, it is more than any like her or him can ask for.'

There were many things Sakarra felt he had a right to know, and some of them he indeed needed to. But she was mindful of the fact that when all was said and done, she was first and foremost dealing with a human, and an exhausted one at that.

Before she could gently begin to untangle the thread and pull away from the other mind, he reached the same conclusion, the weariness making itself heard over the wonder at last.   

 

"So then.  How does one leave the other? Alas I must say I wish to remain but all good things…as the human saying goes."

 

'How does one go from one place to the other? First, one decides. The action will follow.'

So simple, and not.

If the mind did not wish to leave, and more often than not it was so, it was a test of will over desire, rational and sensible thought overruling the deep joy of basking in the mindlink's shimmering current. And always, always that instant of loss, the sudden emptiness and hollow ache until the self rushed in to fill the void, alight with the memory of the other and richer for it.

 

Slowly, Sakarra retreated until there was only the gentle current always present when a Vulcan touched another, aware of being observed all the while. At last, she nodded. The final step, he would be able to take himself.

 

Ian pulled in a breath of air as he took one final look at the jewel before him so close, yet infinitely far away. Perhaps one day he might again gaze upon its splendor, but if that day never came he would forever have the memory of this experience to recall. 

 

Following the Vulcan's seemingly simplistic advice he retreated from the images before him. Doing so was not without difficulty as he felt a distinct, almost profound, sense of loss as he pulled away. It was an odd mix of sensation as he felt a sudden wave of sadness bubble up from within. With each step away such feelings became more acute yet after a time they subsided. Finally as if pulling himself from a sticky spider web and its many fine, silken filaments, Ian stepped away and watched as the fine threads faded away.

 

Slowly he withdrew his hand from hers however he lingered as her warm, soft fingers slipped from his. Finally their hands parted and Ian leaned backwards filled with a dreamy sense of contentment and peace that he had not experienced perhaps since his carefree days as a young child filled with the spark of curiosity and wonder. He said nothing, but a tiny smile formed upon his lips. His mind was silently piecing together his experiences and converting them to memories while his body, relaxed and quiet, indicated a need to rest in order to absorb its recent and vivid experiences.

 

She allowed him the long seconds needful even for a Vulcan to collect himself, find the balance between what was and what had changed, within the self and in the way the universe was perceived, marvelous and irreversible.

When a smile lit his face, Sakarra nodded in approval.

"So. Is it well done, Ian Lamont?"

There was a different cadence to her using his name, laced with undercurrents of meaning. For there was a meaning to it at last; not the near infinite shades of a Vulcan's name, but enough. A memory, a lingering sense of knowing, of recognition.

 

Ian simply nodded in acknowledgement at the Vulcan's question. How little he understood about her and about her people despite studying their language and culture. His experience had left him with the most meager of understanding yet through changed eyes he could see the prism whereby her race looked even if he could not fully grasp the infinite colors that radiated from words and actions let alone thoughts.

 

His name upon her lips was no longer a simple proper noun. It felt alive carrying with it the most subtle and delicate communication. Her words both conveyed and implied a multitude of nuances each distinct yet fitting together like a harmonious symphony where individual tones and notes meld together to form music which could resonate in near infinite ways within one able to appreciate its splendor.

 

He truly felt like an inexperienced child yet one who had been shown a remarkable door and was allowed to gaze beyond it at the treasures it concealed.

 

With effortless grace, the young Vulcan got to her feet and gazed down at the near serene face and thoughtful eyes. And with a glint of humor she observed it might be wise to let him return to the sleep he had woken from not too long ago. There was healing in that as well.

 

Sensing so much more as if a light had been lit within a dark room, Ian perceived Sakarra's subtle and silent acknowledgement that she was well and that he could rest without concern for her well being. Her gaze communicated tacit understanding of what he was feeling.

 

Satisfied of her well being, Ian leaned back against the wall of the cell and closed his eyes. It was not long before sleep claimed him his mind slowing to absorb, assimilate, and process the still fantastic events that had recently transpired.

 

She watched him drift into sleep, peaceful and unperturbed. Whatever ghosts of his past might haunt the ambassador, right here and now they were silent. And it was good.

Seated on the cold brig floor in a Vulcan's pose of perfect equanimity, Sakarra slowly steepled her fingers in her lap while dark, liquid eyes began to look inward. No yesterday, no tomorrow. Only now. And in all the darkness of this day, there had been something good. Even in the endless night of space, one star is enough.

Her aristocratic features never moved, but inside, unseen and silent, the Vulcan smiled.

 

 

~Fin~

 

Ambassador Ian Lamont

And

Lt. Commander Sakarra Tyrax