[Brig – USS Charon]
"Indeed I have been … cautioned. However I find it difficult to accept that a person of your standing and reputation would willingly and knowingly aid in things such as those that have occurred on ch`Dabhae and the NeoDyne laboratories. Of course, I have little personal knowledge of you and my assumption may be in error. Nonetheless, the available facts support my theory."
She realized he was avoiding her eyes and exhaled slowly. How much more non-threatening could she possibly be? Or was it something else? Human body language could be confusing at the best of times, but the signals the ambassador was sending made about as much sense as someone wildly waving an assortment of multi-colored flags while dancing flamenco in order to direct a fighter to the hangar.
Weighing the available options in her mind, the young Vulcan settled for her preferred, meaning direct, approach - granted, it more often than not led her into all types of unexpected and quite interesting trouble, but it was logical.
A counselor might have been horrified by the Vulcan's reasoning, however it was painfully obvious their methods had met with little success.
"Mr Lamont, you are not looking at me. And you are clearly in discomfort due to my presence. May I ask why?"
Ian was stunned at the question. How dare she ask me such a thing? His anger quickly gave way to reason. The Vulcan was clearly stating the obvious yet she had inadvertently hit upon the one thing Ian Lamont was desperately attempting to hide. He was suddenly gripped by a wave of sheer terror and panic the likes of which he had never known. What did he say? What could he say? How could a rational Vulcan trained to suppress emotions understand or not be offended by a grotesque display of human emotion? Lamont couldn't explain what he felt on terms she would understand. He simply felt. There were no words to describe the pain, guilt, and grief boiling within him.
"I..I can't", he stuttered. He suddenly choked losing the ability to speak as a powerful wave of emotions welled up within his throat. After a few seconds Lamont managed to swallow enough of them to manage a few words. "It.. it isn't you lieutenant. I..."
His mental defenses were at the breaking point. The dam he had erected to keep them in check was failing as emotions poured through the cracks making them wider by the second. His eyes danced about the room but inevitably they locked with the dark, calm, inquisitive counterparts looking back at him. In that moment Lamont's barrier of human pride collapsed. A tear formed in the ambassador's eye. Internally, the dam which had held back a violent torrent of fluid emotions failed unleashing its energy in one massive surge that the ambassador was no longer able to restrain.
The tear in his eye fell running down his cheek followed by a second and then more. Ian was unable to stop them nor stand against the torrent of feeling within him.
Ian suddenly reached out and pulled the Vulcan close in an embrace using her shoulder to hold his head. "Please forgive me", he whispered softly into her ear as emotions broke loose and poured out of him. He could do nothing but allow them to escape having denied them for so very long. Anger, grief, pain, remorse, arrogance, pride, and selfishness surged outwards manifesting themselves in ragged breaths, muscle spasms, and tears.
The exclamation 'Holy Shit' previously employed by Mr Lamont immediately surfaced in the young Vulcan's mind.
Not only was this unexpected, but overwhelming to say the least.
Struggling for balance, both physically and mentally, Sakarra was too stunned to react in any coherent manner to the onslaught of emotions, let alone the arms holding her close to the distraught human.
Trouble indeed.
It was the whispered plea for forgiveness that stopped her from breaking his hold on her, although the Vulcan's overtaxed mind screamed for distance as mental shields wavered under the barrage of incoherent and violent surges of emotion. Never mind the added small discomfort of having been pulled into close contact without a chance to brace herself.
Blinking rapidly, Sakarra experienced a surge of … surprise, even wonder. How could a human feeling like this still be able to voice concern about another, and have the courtesy to apologize?
Fascinating.
The amazement was her anchor, and within seconds her breathing leveled out. Tides of grief, rage and pain still assaulted her mind, but they were no more than an angry wind storming across the unmoved desert surface. Here and here, a gust of sand would be carried away, an echo produced and fading as the Vulcan recognized a familiar emotion and allowed it to pass.
When he started to speak, she blinked once more, but the hands that had instinctively shot up towards Lamont's shoulders at his unexpected … advance …, remained still and if anything, her grip on the rumpled clothes loosened as Sakarra listened in silence.
Between sobs Lamont bared his soul to the Vulcan lieutenant. He couldn't explain why. There was something about her which he felt he could trust. With so many problems she was the closest thing he had to a friend aboard and right now he desperately needed one.
He told her of his involvement with NeoDyne. How he had aided their activities in constructing a secret facility on the Astate colony in exchange for political contacts and favors. He told her of his selfishness and arrogance. He related the story of his quest to restore his family prestige, influence, and reputation. He told her of his promise to his dying father to exonerate the family from the alleged crimes exposed by a political rival which had ruined the family and destroyed its standing and fortune. He told her of his feelings about his posting to the Charon, how he regretted how he had behaved, how guilt-ridden he was over his past actions and recent ones. The altercations with the captain, his selfishness, all of it. He told her everything.
The emotional current within him slowly subsided. Ian felt as if a great weight had been removed despite his fragile state. Then it suddenly occurred to him how utterly revolting and offensive he must seem to the Vulcan. He was nothing but a mass of emotional jelly and had just covered the Vulcan in what could only be described as utterly revolting and detestable to her.
Pulling himself from her damp shoulder, Ian moved to the floor next to her his body shaking with the after effects of the emotional storm that had ravaged him. His eyes locked with hers, but instead of hatred or revulsion he saw only steady, reassuring calmness.
"Please forgive me lieutenant. As..as..an officer...and one familiar with.. your customs..I..I must apologize for such poor behavior. If you wish to leave, I..I understand", he said attempting to hold back another tide of emotion.
Sakarra looked at the ambassador for several long seconds, while the experience settled in her mind. There were many things she would need to ponder, but it would have to wait.
"No." she finally said, shaking her head slowly "I think not, Ian Lamont. Nam-tor ri thrap wilat nem-tor rim. There is no offense where none is taken."
With a fluent motion, she got to her feet, gesturing for him to remain, and stepped out of the cell towards the replicator.
"Sh'atrasha'uh etek, sanu." she nodded towards the security guard who had not moved save for a hand nonchalantly resting against the phaser at his hip.
The other Vulcan's restraint was commendable under the circumstances, but Sakarra had no time to worry about his sensibilities at the moment.
He recognized the tone of one who expects her request to be obeyed without delay and gave a stiff half-bow before walking towards the door. However, there was a brief glance of warning towards the human before the guard took station outside.
The young woman returned with two towels and steaming hot mugs of spiced tea, settling lightly in her previous position before she placed one of each in front of the ambassador.
She did not wait for him to proceed but rather dabbed at the soaked fabric of her robe and finally came to the conclusion that it would hardly suffice.
With the soft exhale that qualified as a Vulcan's small sigh, she loosened the collar of her dress and opened the robe just enough to slide the soft towel towards her now positively chilly shoulder.
Better.
"I must say, humans have always been rather a puzzle to me. Your … situation however seems to be even more complex than most." she carefully rubbed the salty moisture off her skin, attempting to squeeze as much of it out of the heavy fabric as possible at the same time. Vulcan clothes were not waterproof. There simply was no need.
Lamont looked at the Vulcan with curious disbelief. She was still here. Why?
He took the towel and hid his face within its folds for a time to regain some tiny shred of composure. After a moment he dried his head and let the towel drop to his lap. He took the warm cup of tea and slid off the bunk to sit next to the lieutenant. Sipping the hot liquid had a calming effect. His emotional outburst had left him drained, yet the weight that had been crushing him had subsided to manageable levels. He simply sat quietly allowing his mind to go blank. Having the lieutenant nearby was calming in addition to the warm tea. He felt as if she was a lighthouse lighting a path through a dense fog and turbulent storm. If he followed the light perhaps he might find a way out of the storm that filled him.
"I am a complex and foolish man", Lamont said softly after many quiet moments. "I find myself adrift in unfamiliar and treacherous seas with a damaged compass and no destination. I have no sense of direction and am unable to navigate. I can only blame myself for arrogantly sailing into such waters. I can only lament the path which has led me here for I can no longer see the route ahead. Dark clouds have obscured it from my sight. I fear I may be unable to ever again find my way lost within them." He looked ahead with a blank expression not really anticipating a response as self doubt and regret filled his thoughts. How many had suffered as a result of his selfishness?
"Lament?" the young Vulcan briefly paused in her efforts and seemed to ponder the ambassador's words, before she continued to lightly rub away at shoulder and fabric.
[To be continued…]
Ambassador Ian Lamont
Diplomatic Advisor
Lt Cmdr Sakarra Tyrax
Chief Helm Officer
USS Charon
