Peers

Posted on 14 Feb 2015 @ 10:09pm by Lieutenant Oren Idris Ph.D. & Laeon Wylde

3,393 words; about a 17 minute read

Mission: Episode 07 - Sojourn
Location: USS Galileo - Deck 3, Chaplaincy
Timeline: MD10 - 1000hrs

[ON]

The Galileo's chaplaincy was not the first place Oren would've thought he'd find himself when avoiding people, but had he given the idea more thought, he would have found it a very fitting place to be. Growing up on Bajor, he'd often envied the other children their natural spiritual devotion, one his parents had always discouraged in Oren himself. Something about getting 'too involved' in a culture, or so they said. At that age, all he heard in their comment was criticism for trying to fit in, something they had encouraged in all the other aspects of his social life. Why they were so against him accepting more spiritual values, he'd never had the time to find out.

While avoiding people, the young El-Aurian had taken to hiding away on the Galileo while everyone he knew was too busy exploring the station. Scrolling through the ship's databanks (or what he could access), he'd fallen into a deep vortex of reading inane, silly facts and generally wasting his time. During one of these exploits, he'd made the discovery that, apparently, the Galileo wasn't as boring as he'd thought. There seemed to be a nice group of activities run by the ship's chaplaincy, another thing he didn't know existed on the ship. In fact, if he'd known about it, Oren probably would've forsaken seeing the counselors completely.

Deciding to check the place out for himself and sign up for an activity or two (or five) in the meantime, Oren quickly left his cramped quarters and made his way up one deck. Reaching the appropriate office, he briefly wondered whether the chaplain would be in at all. Surely, he would want to go and enjoy his shoreleave as well?

Hovering outside of the Chaplain's office, a lad that would look about 15 or 16 to a human was running his finger down over a screen on the wall next to the door. Tapping for a moment, Laeon tilted his head, considering the options as he signed himself up to some of the activity groups. He had to do something while his father was on duty afterall. And seeing as he probably wouldn't be impressed with him playing with guns and knives, singing and dancing would just have to do.

Glancing at the taller young man, Oren took a few tentative steps forward to get a better look at the sign up sheet. "Any ideas of which ones you want to join?" Oren had only taken a cursory look at the offered activities, but he was still curious about who would be joining them. The last thing he wanted was to be grouped with someone unpleasant.

Laeon looked across to him with surprise at the sudden company. He smiled, almost shyly as he shrugged with the awkwardness of youth. "Well I thought I might try the singing group....and the orchestra. Oh, I put myself on the book club list....and I'm going to try the acting one I think. My uncle is an actor, perhaps some shred of skill has filtered to me...."

"I was thinking of joining the book club and theatre group too," Oren admitted, putting his hands behind his back and rocking back and forth on his feet as he looked up at the other boy. "I mean, I pretend I know what I'm doing all the time, surely I can make something work," he joked, smiling softly.

"I'm Oren."

"Nice to meet you, Oren," the youth replied with a smile, and the way he said it sounded as if he were repeating a phrase not quite natural to him, but taking great care to do it right. "I am Laeon. I...don't have a job here, so, well, I have plenty of time to fill," he admitted with a chuckle.

"Yeah, it's best to keep busy. It's good for the brain, or so I've heard," Oren said before rocking slightly on his feet again. A nervous habit. He was never sure how to act around someone who was a teenager, which he knew was ridiculous because he was one too (despite having the legal status of an adult, courtesy of the UFP Justice system). On the other hand, he'd always felt there was something deeply wrong with being treated like an actual adult by others. Those two feelings constantly fueled Oren's sense of awkwardness and lack of ability to fit in with anyone. All things considered, it was difficult to find someone with a shared life experience.

"You go mad otherwise," Laeon assured, but with a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Sitting in a small set of quarters, watching the clock. It's not a great thing...." he paused, watching him, unsure. "...But, if we end up in the same activity group, I suppose...if you wanted....we could chat about it between classes? Have a drink? Practice or discuss?"

Oren smiled, happy that the other boy wasn't too put off by his own awkwardness. "I'd like that. What else do you like to do?" he asked, leaning back against the nearby wall for nothing other than to just keep himself from shifting nervously. He decided to elaborate, not wanting Laeon to feel like he was being interrogated.

"I like books, mostly non-fiction though. I like History the most. Not so much wars and things like that, but things like culture, dance, fashion..."

"I....write art," Laeon admitted softly, shaking his head with a small smile. "It was something I learnt when I was younger, where I'm from. You...weave words into art, to write it a story as much as you draw the image."

"Huh..." Oren looked at him. "I'd like to see that. Will you show me?" he asked, looking excited for the first time in the last few days. The prospect of seeing and learning something new was intriguing in the best way.

The young Vaeron's smile brightened at the words as he relaxed and nodded quickly, taking his hand to lead him down the corridor. "Come to my quarters, I'll show you...it's not far," he promised with a sudden grin.

Grinning back, Oren let Laeon pull him down corridors and around corners until they reached what he assumed was the right place. "Where are you from?" he asked suddenly, curious about the origin of such a unique art form.

"Vaeron," Laeon said softly as he leant him inside the small set of quarters, but there was a weak smile on his features with it, as always when talking about his now lost home. Bittersweet. "Not many have heard of it though, we kept to ourselves," and maybe that had been their undoing. "You?" he asked with curiosity. On looks, he could be from a number of different places.

Oren shook his head with a shrug of his shoulders. "I'm not really from...anywhere in particular," he admitted honestly. The concept of belonging and being 'from' somewhere had been on his mind a lot lately. Being back on Bajor hadn't felt the way he'd thought it would. Ever since leaving, he had avoided any possible return, believing that the emotions it would bring would be too much. But upon setting foot on the planet, all he felt had been irritation at the sun and a forced sense of nostalgia he was no sure was completely fabricated by a mind too hopeful to be true to itself.

"My parents were El-Aurian and they came to Bajor after the planet was destroyed by the Borg. I was born there but, when the Occupation began, I had to leave. I was on Betazed for a little while, then I was on some backwards little colony they keep changing the name of. Then I went back to Betazed for school and then I traveled a lot. So...yeah, I'm not sure that answers your question, but there it is."

Laeon watched him with fixed attention, wrapped up in his story as he gently tugged on his sleeve to make him sit with him, his gaze never leaving him. El-Aurian. He had heard of them, but only passing reference, not enough to know much about them. Bajor and Betazed were more familiar. "Occupation...you mean the Dominion War? My father made me stay with my uncle while he served during that conflict. He said a lot was lost on both sides."

"That's true with most wars," Oren agreed, settling himself besides Laeon. "But no, I don't mean the Dominion War. I mean the Cardassian Occupation of Bajor," Oren explained. The mistake was understandable, considering his supposed age (if only looks were taken into account).

"I left when I was sixteen, so I was lucky enough to not be there very long during the struggle," Oren added with a small shrug and a smile that didn't reach his eyes. He knew he was far from lucky, with his brother being taken away along with his parents, but it seemed like an appropriate thing to say. It wasn't the time or place to burden someone else with his problems.

"You do not feel it," Laeon said quietly as he watched him, a frown coming to him. He shook his head at the words, looking down. "Sorry, I....it is none of my business, and your feelings are your own. I just hope it is...better now for you."

"It is better now," Oren said with a nod, looking at the young man curiously. He didn't know anything important about the Vaeron, but them being empaths would've caught his attention. Now wanting to dwell further, he gave the boy a playful nudge. "Will you show me how you write art?" he asked, eager for some levity. "Though, you might want to put some barriers down if you're going to let me try my hand at it. A mess is guaranteed."

Laeon laughed at that, his mood lifting with the change of subject as he moved to his small room to take a large folder out. He opened it up, showing him the pages. They were drawings but also some pages, mostly of people in scenic settings...but within the scenery, scrolling words formed part of the patterns and shape of the picture. "This is script," he said softly, tracing some with a soft fingertip. "It's about the woman in the picture, tells of her as much as shows her."

Oren looked at the painting, leaning in close to see the writing. He didn't understand the language, but the entire effect - the combination of written word, colour and shape, was breathtaking.

"It's gorgeous. Who is she?"

"She was my mother," Laeon admitted with a strangely shy smile, shaking his head softly as he looked back down to it. "I re-draw her now and then. To keep it....clear. To keep her focussed instead of blurred," he motioned to his head. He was always worried about forgetting.

Oren returned the shy smile with a sad one of his own. "That's a good idea," he admitted, looking down at the painting. "I don't remember what mine looks like anymore. Not clearly anyway. Like you said, it's a blur," he admitted, feeling a little disappointed at himself for not trying harder to remember. Of course, trying to stay out of sight of the Cardassians and then risking his life to get off of Bajor didn't leave much room for other things. "I don't remember my father either, but I remember being with them." It had been so long ago, but Oren remembered how the house smelled, the music coming up the staircase from his father's studio and the feeling of his mother accidentally poking him with little pins when she adjusted his outfits.

Laeon searched his features for a long moment in silence, feeling for him. It wasn't often he talked about his own past. His father had told him it was okay too, it just...seemed to raw and personal. It felt a little easier with someone who understood though. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to....awaken difficult memories. They say it gets easier. Maybe it does in one way, but in another way, I am yet to see it."

"It does get easier in some ways," Oren confirmed with a small nod, leaning down again, closer to the writing. "Don't worry about it. It's good to bring up certain memories. Otherwise, you may start to think they never happened."

"This is really beautiful. I mean, I've never seen anything like it, but I think you're very talented." Oren leaned back again to give Laeon a smile.

"Thanks," Laeon smiled warmly to him with surprise at the praise, looking back to it for another look himself. "I look forward to the activity groups. Maybe I'll get to see the art in the crew," he admitted with a soft smile.

"Pity there isn't an art class, like painting or pottery," Oren said, then thought better on it. "Actually, forget I said that. I spend enough time around paintings and pots. Which one are you looking forward to the most? Personally, I want to see everyone act because that could prove to be hilarious."

Laeon laughed just at the thought of it, nodding eagerly as he squeezed his arm. "Definitely. I wonder who will want to be the dashing hero, or better, those who will be drawn to the wicked villain. We could find out a lot about each other."

Oren nodded, then tilted his head towards Laeon. "What about you? Would you be the dashing hero or the wicked villain?" Oren couldn't decide which one he'd like to play better. He wanted to see what it would be like to play the villain, but he had a hard time connecting to the idea of ultimate good and evil. But it was a nice thought, that someone could be classified as a good person or a bad person.

"Me? I think I would have to play the hero out of the two, unless it were some spoiled boy prince villain or something," Laeon laughed warmly, shaking his head at the idea. "You though, you would play the hero. Or at least, the young romantic hero, singing sweet serenades to the young Lady or young Lord to win their heart. Where I am from, we would often have two heroes in a story. The young romantic one, beautiful and trying to win in love. The other, a rougher hero, the fighter, but unlikely in being heroic. Someone who is not naturally heroic by nature. Who often comes from little, who is normal, who has to overcome their own doubt or demons or self interest and would prefer to just keep to themselves than get involved in other peoples troubles. Someone who fights hard and gets their hands dirty doing it. Who in that moment is so fierce in their determination that no other person will put them or others down. Who doesn't mean to be a hero, would prefer to stick to themselves, but is forced to step up," Laeon shrugged lightly with a weak smile. "I suppose there won't be many of those sorts of heroes in the stories here though. I guess it seems like there's a lot of those sorts in real life already serving in Starfleet. Seemingly normal people who think they're doing big things to help others," he shrugged again, looking down. "Apparently."

Oren raised an eyebrow. "Apparently?" he smiled. "That was very elaborate, and spot on, I think, because I am definitely not that second type of hero, no matter how much I'd like to be so noble." Shaking his head a bit, Oren chuckled lightly. "I've never really believed in such clear cut divisions of people," he admitted. "I think everyone has the potential to be a hero or a villain, it all depends on who you ask. I may be a good person by someone's standards, but a bad person by someone else's. Same goes for you and everyone else." He shrugged then, almost mimicking Laeon's previous demeanor. "Maybe I'm cynical."

"It's only cynical if it's not true, huh?" Laeon laughed softly, shaking his head with shining eyes. "No, of course you're right. People are just people, who do what they think they have to do. Heroes are....just for stories."

"Maybe," Oren said with a small shrug. "I try not to be cynical, but it's hard. I mean, you're not the age you look, are you?" he suddenly asked, knowing the answer already. There wasn't much he knew about the Vaeron, but he did know that their long lifespan mean he had something in common with Laeon. "So you sort of understand what it means to see things from a different perspective." Looking at Laeon, Oren found him sweet and the moment itself, bittersweet, like he was looking at someone he should've been rather than who he'd turned out to be. Who circumstance and his own mistakes had made him.

Laeon nodded softly as he rested his head on a pulled up knee, giving him a small smile. "I've seen a lot," he whispered. "Enough to see through some of the things people say and do, even when they see me as just a kid," he chuckled softly, watching him with gentle eyes. "You're the same, I think, or maybe were. I...thanks. For speaking with me. For sharing that."

Oren smiled back. "It's nice having someone to share it with. I have the opposite problem, though. I got emancipated from my family a few years ago, so I'm legally an adult," he revealed, running his fingers absentmindedly over the drawing between them. It was something to focus on, at least. "So, most people treat me like an adult, which I suppose is a little better than treating me like a kid... But still..." He chuckled then, shaking his head at himself before looking back up at Laeon with a warm smile. "Can't win, can we?" he asked.

Laeon shook his head with a soft laugh, shrugging gently with it as he studied his face. "I think it is the problem with having no choice," he said lightly, running his hands back through his fair hair. "But now you have to make it and do it all for yourself. Hard work."

Oren nodded, pursing his lips. "You're lucky you have your dad. He's a good man, even if he does scare me a little," he admitted with a small blush.

"Scare you?" Laeon said with surprise before laughing warmly. "Him? Really? That's just adorable," he teased with a wink, shaking his head. "Nah, he works hard. You're right. I'm lucky to have him," and it was true. More true than perhaps he knew. When Alexion had stayed behind on their besieged homeworld, he'd thought that was it. "Still, doesn't mean he has to know *everything* I get up to," he added playfully. "Although, somehow, he always seems to."

Oren laughed. "Oh, and what do you want to get up to?" he asked with an equally playful tone, leaning towards him conspiratorially. He could definitely see why Laeon might be frustrated. It's a strange situation to be treated like a child while being so much older than anyone else and yet knowing, in theory, that you weren't.

"Well I keep trying to get served at bars for a start, without ID, it's a hard task," Laeon admitted with a soft laugh. "Hm, maybe I should just stow away on a pirate ship and done with it, huh?" he was clearly only joking though, knowing where he was well off.

"Yeah, even with a fake ID, it's hard to get served when you have a baby face," Oren said, grinning at him. "And, cute as you are, you still have a baby face," he teased.

"Goodness, thanks," he pushed his arm with a soft laugh, clearly understanding sarcasm as a shared trait with his own people's culture. "Just you wait, I'll be in charge at some point," he teased softly. "I'm really glad you came over. It's been nice to...talk. And laugh."

"It is. We should do it again sometimes," Oren suggested with a hopeful smile.

Laeon grinned at the open invitation, giving his arm a warm squeeze. "Definitely."

[OFF]

Laeon Wylde
Civilian Crew Family
USS Galileo
[PNPC Blake]

&

Oren Idris, Ph.D.
Archaeology/Anthropology
USS Galileo

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