SET 017: Rojar VI Moon Charting, "Schism"

Posted on 19 May 2013 @ 2:06am by
Edited on on 23 May 2013 @ 3:36pm

2,113 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: Episode 03 - Frontier
Location: Shuttlecraft Virginia, Rojar VI Space
Timeline: MD9 0900

ON:

Liyar's right hand moved over the directional navigation as he guided the shuttle out of its established orbit and they gained speed. The distance between moons meant that each had to be cataloged individually. Soon they had entered orbit of the second moon. "Trajectory established." He looked over at her once the vessel began to coast along its own power given the moon's small gravitational field.

Once again, Maenad set the sensors to the same as before. This moon was about twice the size of the previous one, and would take about fifteen minutes to complete. At first glance, it seemed just as dead as the last place. She let out a small breath through her nose and wiggled her dangling foot as she sat back. "I met your friend Kestra this morning," she told him, treading careful waters.

"Indeed. She had expressed interest in doing so when I visited her two days prior," Liyar replied. He'd warned Kestra about overuse of telepathy on Maenad, that Maenad found it unusual and frightening, but he couldn't imagine Kestra had a choice. She was voiceless, bound in the mental world. "How did you find it?"

"Unlike you, she did not know how to respect my privacy." Maenad adjusted one of the scans. "I thought she was very condescending." She seemed to be speaking absentmindedly, like she wasn't paying full attention what she was talking about.

"Kestra does not possess the ability to control the input she receives from others. Like me," Liyar added pensively. "Her mental abilities were affected as much as her body by what happened to her." Regardless, Maenad's reaction was an unsurprising, if discouraging one. "It would not have been her intention to offend you."

"Maybe not," she sounded unconvinced and kept her eyes on the console. "She is very fond of you, Liyar," she said flatly. It surprised her; the way Kestra spoke of him was like they had always been friends. She recalled the use of the word love, which was not something thrown around lightly. She didn't think it was romantic, but for all the conversations she and Liyar had had together, Maenad could not recall him ever mentioning someone on the ship who loved him.

Liyar did not even know how to begin to explain such things to a psi-null. "Yes," he agreed with a nod. "We shared an extremely deep mental link. It was necessary in order to preserve her consciousness and help return her to the waking world."

"I see," Maenad said. She didn't understand why that would necessarily spark friendship or love after only a few days. So far, the scans revealed nothing worth looking at twice, but they weren't even half finished yet.

She didn't see. How could she? She had never experienced such a deep telepathic connection, a winding of patterns, fractals, chains, cords. There were no words to describe it. They'd been trapped in a nightmarish, timeless hellscape together. Cthulhu-dreams, tortures, terrors coalescing from the blood of the fallen, echoes, the sound of their voices. The winding stairs, endless circles, leviathans and doors to the last point in the universe. He'd held that Andorian's heart in his hand, crushed, felt powerful, felt right. Kestra and Trija had seen it all. Accepted him, without judgment. Memories, thoughts, feelings. And in return, he did the same. They'd been too entwined not to. Familial cores. Solid. Gravity. "Does that bother you?"

"Not at all," Maenad quickly replied, then turned to him. "Why, should it?"

"I do not know. It is why I asked."

She smirked. "No, I'm glad you have friends, Liyar," she said to reassure him. "It must be nice having someone with whom you can communicate telepathically. It must be less... alien for you," she watched him.

After ensuring their orbit path was stable, Liyar leaned back against his chair, pressing his fingertips together in front of his chest. "I suppose that it is. I have found there is reward in understanding the alien. Our ways are different, but not necessarily incompatible."

"We get along fine," Maenad added. "For the most part," she grinned. "I have no complaints."

"That is gratifying." It was difficult to tell if he were being facetious or not. The dip of his head to the side suggested so, but just as quickly, he took the opportunity to bring up a genuine subject. "I periodically get the impression that you are displeased with me," he started, folding his fingers down over one another, "but I am often unable to determine why. If you did have a complaint," he started frankly, turning in his seat, "It would be to our mutual benefit if you explained the source of your ire directly." His words were measured and deliberate, but he watched her knowingly. He hadn't missed her demeanor after all, her displeasure and uncertainty buzzing through the air like a low hum, impossible to ignore, loud and pounding and awkward.

"My ire?" she asked, staring across at him. "Liyar, I just told you that I have no complaints. I am not displeased with you." Maenad's voice started like she was criticising him, but then it went softer. She blinked, and drooped her lips a little. "You think I am?" she asked, inflecting, then smiled genuinely. She slouched over the arm of her chair, putting her weight on her left elbow. If Maenad was displeased with someone, it was herself. He was a Vulcan, which she knew and of which he never hesitated to remind her. It was her fault that she felt strange sometimes, that she became awkward, that she expected a more human response from him. She was living in a fantasy world that she'd only recently come to terms with.

"Your behavior sometimes suggests so," he nodded. "This morning, you have endeavored to treat me as though I am unknown to you. You expect me to give you a human response. That I cannot do this troubles you. What is it you wish me to respond to? What is it a human would do?"

He was in her head, picking up on thoughts that she'd buried. He wasn't supposed to do that, and she clenched her jaw at it behind pursed lips. Her smile had completely left her expression; Liyar knew better. She had just told Kestra an hour or two ago that he never did this, yet here he was contradicting her. Maybe she was wrong and was only realising it now. Her cheeks went red; she had no answer other than the truth, and the truth was not something she could tell him. Ever. Not even with him digging around in her head would she allow herself to ruin their friendship. "It's just the two of us, Liyar, and we're both on duty," she tried. "I have to treat you the same way that I would treat anyone." The human response idea was a thought altogether unconnected from any of this, she thought.

"That is an illogical assessment," he said. "It operates under the assumption of pretense, that one is incapable of operating efficiently while being honest in their interactions. It has never occurred to you to behave this way until now. We have often worked together without incident. Therefore I am inclined to believe that this is a reaction on your part, to an event that I have yet to understand."

"Illogical?" she cried. "You're calling me illogical?" her fingers pressed against her breastbone. "Liyar," she started to talk like she had it all planned out in her head, but nothing came. She remained speechless, choking on air. "No, we haven't worked together before, not on something like this. Your eidetic memory, I think, is acting up," she said to him. "And, I don't know what you mean by without incident; everything has gone just fine." She shook her head, frowned, crossed her arms, and sighed.

"We have," Liyar contradicted her calmly. "And it has gone, as I have said, without incident. Until now. You are deflecting the issue."

Maenad stared at her console. She might have been trying to bend steel with her eyes. Liyar was infuriating her in ways that he never had before. She could feel tension rising in her chest and behind her eyes. "How would you have me behave, then?" she snapped at him, turning to look at him, her green eyes glistening. "Hm? How should I be? What would be acceptable to you?" She asked with apparent condescension. "Apparently, when I try to be nice, everybody gets mad at me. When I try to give my subordinates some leeway by taking their advice, I find myself in the captain's ready room being shouted at, and then told she still wants me in her bed!" she was practically shouting now herself, and her voice trembled. "I meet your friends and I am judged because of what goes on in my head, things I have no control over because I'm just a human, and then when I report for duty with my one and only friend on this nightmare of an assignment, and I try to act professionally, I'm accused of causing an incident." She held his eyes for a moment. "So you tell me how I'm supposed to act, so I can make the next seven and a half hours more to your liking."

Liyar fixed her with a skeptical look. "Maenad, you are fully aware that I have no expectations of your behavior." He leaned over on his elbow. "I am asking you to tell me what is bothering you."

But Maenad couldn't listen right now. She couldn't stop herself. "But you do have expectations, Liyar. You do!" She shook her head, looked at the console for inspiration. She found none; the scan would be finished in another few minutes, but that didn't help her. "I'm causing an incident. I'm not acting logically."

"That is not what I said, and you know that-"

"I'm not acting like the Vulcan you need in your life. Well," she said, sniffing, "I'm sorry." She wasn't making any sense to him, and she knew it, which only deepened her madness, because explaining herself would be as useful as opening the rear hatch right now. She was a falling piano. "I'm bothered because I don't know what to do with myself anymore. I'm bothered because I can't just be. I'm bothered because I'm bothering you," she heaved an exasperated sigh. "And I don't want to do that, more than anything else," she added soberly, finally looking at him.

He held up a hand. "Maenad, when have I ever demonstrated an expectation that you be someone other than yourself? I hope you do not think me so inept that I cannot tell the difference between a Terran and a Vulcan. I am asking a question. It is obvious to me that you are unhappy."

The scan finished and Maenad looked away from him, thanking god that it did. "What a surprise," she said under her breath. "Nothing." Maenad tapped a few commands to log the data. "Take us to the next moon," she instructed him. She turned her chair around and got up. "I'm getting a drink."

Liyar looked at the ceiling and then back down to the controls, breaking their transfer orbit with little issue and shooting their tiny shuttle to the next moon. Liyar's fingers moved rapidly over the console's controls as he captured their trajectory once more. When Maenad sat back down, he flicked an eyebrow in her direction. "You are aware that ignoring the issue will not make it disappear."

"What do you want to know?" she yelled at him. "I just told you everything that's bothering me!"

Liyar didn't even blink. "No. You accused me of harboring expectations and did not substantiate your statement. You were then insistent that you not bother me, which you have not done. I am familiar enough with you by now to recognize when you are ill at ease. You believe you cannot tell me the truth. That is your prerogative, but do not pretend there is no truth."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she was still frustrated. "This conversation is over."

TO BE CONTINUED...

OFF:

Lieutenant (JG) Maenad Panne
Chief Science Officer, SSC
USS Galileo

Lieutenant (JG) Liyar
Diplomatic Officer, VDF/SDD
USS Galileo

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