We used to be friend, but I haven't thought of you lately at all

Posted on 26 Jan 2016 @ 12:36am by Commander Andreus Kohl & Lieutenant JG Cyrin Xanth

2,666 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: Episode 10 - Symposium
Location: USS Galileo - Deck 4, Compartment 04-0904 JO
Timeline: MD 20 - 0745 hours

[ON]

The satchel, slung over his shoulder, was overstuffed to the point it was starting to weigh him down. The measure of his stride was swaying into more of a waddle. Andreus Kohl was swept off-balance by the bulging canvas by his side. Perhaps it was the weight of the satchel, or perhaps it was the meaning of his delivery that was eroding his balance. The ride in the turbolift had offered a pleasant relief, but then it was only a quick waddle from the 'lift to the doorway of his destination. Kohl touched a hand to the door chime. When the doors parted after only a minor delay, Kohl remarked, "I'm relieved I caught you before you started your shift..."

"Commander!" Cyrin jumped out of the chair he'd been sprawled in and did his best to make himself look presentable. It was a little difficult, he felt, given that he was wearing a pair of shorts and a tank top, and not his uniform, with his hair wild and refusing to stay down as he tried to smooth it. Realizing that his efforts were in vain, Cyrin started to try to pick up some of the mess in his quarters. There was a stack of PADDs large enough to make for a library of their own scattered about his table and on the floor around his chair. "I d-did-didn't realize y-you wuh-were coming b-b-b-by..."

In contrast, Lieutenant Commander Kohl was well put-together in his uniform. Rather than his career-long fashion choice of teal, the collar and piping on Kohl's uniform was crimson. His beard was neatly trimmed and his honey-brown hair was still (roughly) in the same place his comb had left it at the start of his duty shift. All of that didn't mean Kohl was much more poised than Cyrin.

Standing in the threshold, Kohl could only look at Cyrin. He looked right at him. Kohl couldn't remember ever having seen Cyrin's exposed skin before. Had never before seen those long stretches of toned flesh adorned with Trill spots. Not even that time they'd got blind drunk. "That's because--" Kohl had started to say, but his sapphire eyes had gone a'wandering. Kohl looked down the length of Cyrin, and then up again. Only then did he remember himself. Only then did he remember to say, "That's because I didn't announce myself." He smiled impishly.

Clueless as he usually was, Cyrin failed to note anything about the look Kohl had given him, but instead focused in on the red collar. Somehow that made Kohl even more intimidating than the former one he wore. He stood there, a collection of PADDs clutched to his chest, and stared, "You uh...I mean um, c-come in, please." Cyrin shook his head as he hurriedly cleared a spot for the man to sit on the couch, making precarious stacks of PADDs with nigh-incomprehensible mathematics and diagrams covering each one. "It's uh, I mean, I guh-guess I'm still n-not used to..." Cyrin took a deep breath, shoved a hand through his messy hair which did nothing to improve its chaoticness, and settled for, "What can I do for you, sir?"

"I'm not acclimated yet," Kohl said, with a vague shake of his head. Although his choice of words remained oblique, his expression crumpled into a look of discomfort. He strode into Cyrin's quarters as he spoke, immediately careering towards that new opening on the sofa. Gently, Kohl dropped his satchel on a spare scrap of surface on a nearby table, and then he dropped himself onto the sofa. "I'm not used to not seeing you every day, now that I've been relieved of my Science department responsibilities," Kohl said, as if that was answer enough. From his perch on the low sofa, Kohl looked up at Cyrin. Kohl asked, "How are you faring since we got back?"

Cyrin stayed standing, looking out of place in his own quarters now. He'd not seen much of the Argelian either, though in some ways it was a relief; there wasn't as much looking over his shoulder or jumping the moment he heard Kohl's teasing voice. "Well, umm..." Now that Commander Kohl wasn't his immediate superior, there wasn't any actual need to tell the man what he was up to. Still, he'd worked for Kohl for a year and he still felt inclined to answer. "I'm g-going home for a bit, s-sir. To talk with the uh, the uh, S-Symbiosis Commission," he shrugged, trying to make it seem a small thing. "Wh-what about you, Commander? Is uh...bridge duty fun?"

At Cyrin's question about the fun factor of bridge duty, Kohl's eyes cut to the left. He stared away from them both and after that moment of thought, he quickly answered, "I suspect it will be more fun when we're not limping home. When Galileo and her crew have had an opportunity to rest." And even quicker, he asked, "You said you have need of the Symbiosis Commission?" with the sudden concern of the medical officer he once was.

It was easier to breathe when Cyrin didn't feel like he was pinned by the Argelian's intense blue gaze; sometimes he felt a bit like an entomologist's gruesome display of bugs held down by needles, when Kohl looked at him. The Trill relaxed slightly and moved, made a fuss over his PADDs, ostensibly to work out which he was taking with him for some light reading on the trip.

"Sorry," Cyrin muttered. Of course it wouldn't be fun being in command of the ship during the night watch when there was so much damage and the crew had suffered. "I was um, g-gonna talk to th-them about...well, y-you know, sir, the trouble I h-have."

While Cyrin implied at his difficulties, Kohl leaned forward. Although he remained planted on the sofa, his body angled towards Cyrin like a flower searching for the light. He squinted in consideration and he rubbed his forehead with the pads of his fingertips. "Are you talking about your manner?" Kohl asked, thinking back to their drinking night of truth or dare. "Your mannerisms?"

Cyrin nodded, "Yes, sir. I w-wasn't always this uh, this nervous. Ya know? M-maybe quiet, in th-the Academy, b-but not so...nervous." He paused once more under the scrutiny, met Kohl's eyes briefly and looked past him over his shoulder, but tried to steer the conversation away from that and back to other things. "B-but uh, Commander?" Then, perhaps a bit more daring than he usually was, Cyrin pointed out, "You d-didn't answer my question, s-sir. Was th-there something I could um, m-maybe do? For you, that is?"

When Kohl squinted at Cyrin, it put faint lines beside his eyes, because he really squinted at him. "...Talking with me," was what Kohl said, but it wasn't entirely an answer. "I mean-- you're not--" Kohl sputtered out, but his mind was sent reeling by Cyrin's question. He hardly knew what he was thinking; he didn't know what he was saying. The words still emerged, unbidden.

"Have I been inappropriate with my rank?" Kohl asked. Where he had been fidgeting before, Kohl's body went absolutely still. He thought back to their endless night of truth or dare, their long talks on the mining shuttles. He tried to replay the words they'd shared in hid mind, but it sounded different now. It all sounded different. Kohl's timbre went higher, his throat tight. "I thought-- I thought we were becoming friends," Kohl said. "...Have you only socialized with me because you thought it was an order?"

"Friends?" By the way he asked it, it was obvious Cyrin hadn't given the idea much thought before. Commander Kohl was his boss, the man who intimidated him with a glance, who made him quiver, and shiver, and worry. The Trill hung his head and offered a shrug, "Well, uh, s-sir? To be honest, I uh..." No way to explain it without sounding like a complete moron he supposed, so Cyrin powered on, or tried to. "I d-didn't really stop t-to think th-that's what you were d-doing. I just uh...I don't um, d-do the friends thing often, C-C-Comman-man-der."

Kohl just went on staring at Cyrin. After what the younger man had said, Kohl's gaze had become as still as his body. No longer were Kohl's eyes wandering Cyrin's body or examining the movements of Cyrin's gaze. Kohl's expression turned stony and he looked as if he were waiting for something. And then Kohl nodded.

"There's nuh-nothing you can do for me, Ensign," Kohl said. It took all of his effort not to back-track, not to laugh off what he'd said. He wouldn't pretend it wasn't true, but he suddenly felt naked and vulnerable. Kohl worked very hard to flick a switch in his brain, to pretend he was giving orders to a CONN officer, rather than speaking to someone he had --until recently-- thought of as a close if incipient friend. Kohl reached across the coffee table and snatched up the satchel; he clutched it to his chest. Kohl looked down at the sealed flap on the satchel, and then he rose to his feet.

"As soon as we enter the Sol system, I'll be leaving the ship to attend a seminar at the Academy's command school," Kohl said, as he stood. He spoke in an overly formal timbre. "I thought I should check in on you. We haven't spoken much since the deflector maintenance room, back in the parallel universe."

Thoughtless as he might be at times, even Cyrin could realize how badly this visit was turning out. He felt awful, even worse hearing that Kohl was going to be leaving. "You can't go!" Cyrin exclaimed, moving around the table to stand almost as if barring the man's way. "I mean uh..." What did he mean? Mind racing, he tried to pin down what was going on. Commander Kohl frightened him, that was all he could come up with. "I don't kn-know what I mean, Commander. I'm s-sorry though."

"Going... going will be good for me," Kohl said. He nodded his head vaguely, while he stared off over Cyrin's shoulder. It wasn't entirely apparent if Kohl was convincing Cyrin or convincing himself. "If my primary duty is to be Bridge duty, I'm going to need new tools, too strategies, to become an effective leader. A bridge crew... they're not very much like scientists or medicos. It's... it can be scary."

The way Kohl admitted to vulnerability personalised him in the Trill's mind. Instead of being so wrapped up in how nervous the Argelian made him, whether if it was for what his people represented, his higher rank, the way he spoke or looked at people, Cyrin had a moment of clarity that let him see beyond all that and to the man who had tried to be his friend. "H-how long do you th-think you'll be g-g-gone, Commander?" he asked, sounding contrite now. How many other people had tried to be his friend as well, and how many of them had he pushed away? Cyrin knew his own trip to Trill was definitely needed more than ever. How selfish he'd been!

"I have to think about if this is what I want," answered Kohl. His response came in a precisely measured timbre. He shifted his weight from foot to foot. "I've held no allegiance to any one specialty. I've always seen myself as a career officer. Command was always the dream... but I don't know if I want it now. There was still more I wanted to learn..."

"Commander, I uh...I hope m-my mistake d-doesn't um, um, influence your decision," Cyrin said, backing down and wringing his hands together before him with his stress. "But I think th-that you'll m-make a great command officer. The whole department r-respects you, and I d-don't th-think anyone c-could ever replace you." Cyrin spoke the truth, though not all of it, or at least not aloud. Kohl might have seemed to him to be a hard man to work for, but that was because he always wanted to do his best for his superior. Even when he was hiding away Cyrin had done what he could impress him. Wasn't that the kind of inspiration a good leader was supposed to give his crew?

"Oh! I g-guess it's a little l-late, but uh, congratulations, sir."

Kohl offered a single, deep nod of gratitude to Cyrin. "Thank you, Ensign," Kohl said. He whipped up a wry smile, when he added, "I make my life decisions for my own reasons. Besides I'm thinking of heading back to Argelius. It's been years since I've seen my mother. That might be just the place to decide what I want."

Cyrin felt an odd mixture of reactions. There was a strange disappointment that Kohl had addressed him by rank, something he didn't do often in Cyrin's memory. Gladness that he'd maybe made up for his rather large blunders enough to provoke a smile. Then a large amount of uncharacteristic empathy to the need to go home in an attempt to sort things out as that was exactly where Cyrin was going soon. "I understand, s-sir, I really do. Would you...you'll l-let me know? What you decide, I mean?"

"Of course," Kohl said, as he strode out. As he crossed the compartment towards the door, he kept his eyes on Cyrin and nodded his head. "Of course, I will let you know what I decide."

Say something, you idiot, Cyrin thought at himself furiously, watching the Argellian's strides leading quickly to the door and possibly the last time he'd ever see his former superior. "Commander? I uh..." Cyrin followed him to the door to stop the man, wringing his hands in front of him and spoke in a rush. "I hope it's not too l-late. To uh, be your f-friend I m-mean. That is, if you s-still wanted. It would be an honour, like s-serving with you h-has been."

The smile Kohl offered to Cyrin crinkled his face. It was a smile that looked painful to wear. "Cyrin," Kohl said. It sounded like he was saying, come on, you should know this, but what Kohl said was, "A friendship isn't an honour you can achieve." --He shook his head-- "But it isn't too late."

Kohl took one step further, and it was enough to trigger the door sensor. Kohl hugged his satchel to his side --it's contents intended for an imaginary friend, Kohl supposed-- and continued on his stride into the passageway.

Cyrin stood watching Kohl's departing form until after the doors had slid shut and hid him from view, wondering why he felt so horrible despite the Argelian's final words. Things would get better, right? He almost followed after the commander, even took a step towards the door, but as usual doubts began to creep into his mind, a whirlwind of thoughts and scenarios about what ifs. The Trill sighed and ran his hands through his hair once again though it did nothing for the disarray of course, then threw himself down into the closest chair. The symbiont shifted uneasily within and he wrapped an arm around his abdomen in a unconsciously comforting gesture.

It seemed like the conflicts he'd been feeling since he'd first arrived on board had come to a head, and were represented by the disappointed man who'd just walked out the door. Cyrin knew he'd made mistakes, been too wrapped up in his own worries and confusion, but until now he'd never felt as if anyone but himself had been hurt by it. It was a good thing he was going back to Trill soon to try to sort things out, but that didn't help him with his problems with Andreus Kohl.


[OFF]

Lieutenant Commander Andreus Kohl
Second Officer
USS Galileo

&

Ensign Cyrin Xanth
Astrophysicist/Cosmologist
USS Galileo

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