You're In the Sky and I'm In the Earth

Posted on 24 Feb 2016 @ 7:33pm by Lieutenant JG Rael Psy.D.
Edited on on 01 Mar 2016 @ 1:12am

4,389 words; about a 22 minute read

Mission: Episode 10 - Symposium
Location: USS Galileo - Shuttlebay
Timeline: MD89 0700

[ON]

With a great deal of time before his next shift, Rael did as always when faced with time to kill--as those aboard the Galileo were soon familiarizing themselves with--he walked. His walking took him to the shuttlebay; a preferred area for him. It was immeasurably vast. A slice of vastness in this tiny little ship. Walk, walk, walk. He continued forward.

Hearing the footsteps, Wintrow turned his head and watched the approaching set of feet. He was hidden half behind one of the shuttles, crouching low as he was replacing some of the exposed wiring. It was a favourite past-time: maintenancing shuttles, making sure all were in working order, and reporting back his work to engineering. He loved tinkering with the shuttles but always made sure he worked on only one at the time, reporting it properly as "under maintenance" so no-one would take it out prematurely. Not sure if they were headed towards him or past him, Wintrow returned his attention to his work.

Rael was headed towards him!

He walked right on up. "Hello," he said amicably, a slight smile gracing his features.

Startled, Wintrow looked up and forced a smile of his own as he fumbled to keep his tricorder in his hand instead of dropping it. "Uhm...hello," he replied nervously. The man was obviously Vulcan but his age was hard to tell, and the smile. Vulcans didn't smile, they just didn't. Not unless they were hybrids and even then, Wintrow rarely saw a Vulcan smile. "Can I help you?"

"I'm just passing by. What is it you're doing?"

"Just maintenance, making sure the shuttle works as it ought to. Touching up wiring here and there." The youth shrugged. "Just fiddling around really." He shut the tricorder and sat back on his heels, looking up at the man a second time. "I'm a pilot, and I take care of my craft."

The Vulcan was leaned forward, examining the open panel. "Show me?"

Shifting, Wintrow beckoned him closer and explained what he was doing. "Are you a pilot sir?" the young pilot queried as he finished what he was doing, while explaining every step of his procedure.

"I am not," Rael said as he observed every step.

"Then what do you do?" He looked the man over and now spotted the teal trimmings on his collar and sleeves. "Medical or science?"

"I'm a counselor." The smile was back, just a hint that crinkled his eyes.

Dark eyes looked back at the young counsellor, but there was no hint of shock, no pulling away, no stereotypical reaction to the revelation of being a counsellor. "Oh," Wintrow replied simply, "I've considered that....very briefly. But I found flying to be more appealing. I love to fly."

"I can tell. Your passion is very evident." He indicated the panel with his chin. "And your explanations were most illuminating."

"Thank you." Wintrow wiped his hands on his pants and got up, balancing himself against the shuttle. "You're no ordinary Vulcan...are you a hybrid?"

"I am not."

"But you emote. Aren't Vulcans all non-emotional? I've ever only seen a hybrid smile..."

"Some Vulcans do embrace their emotions," Rael corrected gently. "My people call them v'tosh ka'tur--those without logic. Though I am not among them. I was raised off-world, thus I retain aspects of myself which do not necessarily conform to total emotional suppression. Logic is an ideal to which I aspire."

"But not control," Wintrow concluded, "it's odd... to see a Vulcan smile." He tilted his head as if to listen. "You don't shield yourself wholly either... your emotions I mean... I can pick up on some of them."

"Indeed? What can you perceive?" Rael looked completely relaxed, open to be read and interpreted.

Surprised, Wintrow blinked a few times before closing his eyes in concentration. "You're not wholly controlled, there's emotions flowing from you though I can't really discern which ones. None are negative though..." He was an expert at sensing danger but he sensed none from his companion.

Rael lowered his shields, to allow Wintrow a more accurate perception. The Betazoid could sense an abiding serenity, thickly laid down like the roots of an Aspen tree. In-tune. Curiosity, acceptance, wonder were all forefront in his mind. They coalesced to form a huge totem, steady and planted. Strength and carving wood.

"You have a solid grasp on the emotions you emanate," Wintrow concluded, "it's... not chaotic at all..." He smiled in wonder as he 'listened' to the waves of emotion. "Extraordinary."

He received a small smile in return. "What is your name?"

The youth straightened. "Wintrow sir," he replied, a little more formal now, "Cadet Sophomore Wintrow Paragon."

"Wintrow. My name is Rael," he held out his hand. "It is very nice to meet you."

Wintrow watched the hand, but didn't take it. Instead he shook his head. "I'd rather not touch sir," he apologized, "I... don't do well with touch."

It was retracted. No harm, no foul. "I understand. That is absolutely fine. My people typically do not offer touch, but I have found it tends to put most humans at ease. I regret that is not the case for you."

"I'm not Human," Wintrow pointed out, "not fully anyways. It's just... it takes me a while to trust someone enough to allow it. Some it comes easier than others, but I've learned to be careful."

"Of course."

Walking around the shuttle, Wintrow sat down inside the hatch and considered the Vulcan for a moment. "My mother was Betazoid," he explained, "but I was raised Human. I didn't know of my other heritage until I was older and I started to sense things."

Rael found a seat near the edge of the entrance hatch, and pulled up his feet so he could sit cross-legged. "That must have been exceptionally overwhelming for you."

"Yes, and no-one explained to me why either. My stepmother scolded me for it too, my brother..." He suddenly stopped, looking away. "I was different, and I learned to hide it. But not well enough."

"I can only hope that you have found a place now where you do not feel it is necessary to keep such an integral aspect of yourself hidden?"

Nodding slowly, Wintrow turned his head back to face the counsellor. "Here I can be me. I'm learning to be me, and I have help to do it. Back on Earth, I had no friends. No-one I could trust but here... there's such a diversity of people. Who genuinely want to help me, and teach me how to do things right. And recently, things seem to be going well for me. For once anyway, because for some reason bad luck always seems to find me one way or another." He shuddered visibly as he found an interest in his hands.

"Then I shall merely wish you continued fortune," Rael said, "and that good people follow you forward."

"What do you mean?" Once again the younger man looked up. There was an odd sense of serenity about the Vulcan that Wintrow found comforting. "Don't we make our own future, shaped by our experience? I'm learning not to walk on egg shells and it's a slow process but I'm getting there." He smiled somewhat shyly. "A year ago I wouldn't have even talked to you sir... I was too afraid to talk to people..."

"Indeed, then I would categorize your progress as quite remarkable. I would also tend to agree--we are ultimately responsible for our own behavior. Nevertheless, I have often found the path to be easier when surrounded by friends rather than adversaries."

"I have a few friends here, some near my own age." Wintrow smiled at Rael. "I even made a friend on another world, during shore leave. She was a few years older than me, and a pilot too." He cast the counselor a curious look. "Do you fly?"

"I'm afraid not--though I must admit to some fascination with the practice." It was the same fascination that Wintrow had felt only moments before--it followed him everywhere. A fascination for the experiences of living. How others lived. How others found their joy.

"We can take a shuttle out if I can get clearance to do so," the boy offered happily, "I'm qualified for shuttles... I'd be happy to show you, if you like, though obviously I'm not qualified to instruct you."

"Indeed. I would appreciate such an expedition."

"It probably won't be today," Wintrow apologized, "but maybe we can uhm... use a holodeck?"

"I'd be delighted."

"Now?" the youth queried, somewhat surprised, "or later... I do need to finish this up first."

"Of course. Here is my comm frequency," he tapped something out on a PADD and held it out to the younger half-Betazoid.

"If you want..." Wintrow hesitated, looking back inside the shuttle for a moment. "It won't take me long to finish up, I was almost done anyway, maybe a few minutes. If you start up a program, I can meet you at the holodeck in... ten minutes?"

He tucked his PADD away. "I shall meet you there, Wintrow."

== 10 minutes later ==

Having finished up as quickly as possible Wintrow jogged down the distance from the shuttlebay towards the holodeck. It was a good thing he was in reasonably good shape these days, otherwise he would've been out of breath long before getting there.

A perfect replica of the Galileo's shuttlebay greeted him once the large holodeck doors parted. Rael stood just inside, and his hand rose in a wave. "Greetings." The fake-Galileo was in orbit of a planet which they could see outside force-field guarded windows. Rolling hills and greenery, shrouded in sapphire clouds.

Blinking in surprise at the eerie resemblance of the area he'd just departed, Wintrow waved back. "Excellent," he breathed as he made straight for the waiting shuttle. "Shall we?"

"We shall," Rael agreed. They both entered their respective sides of the shuttle, with Wintrow in the pilot's seat. "I've programmed the holographic Galileo to reside in orbit of Hranni VIII--though I suppose you could alter the parameters to your choosing, should you wish."

"Nah we're going for a quick spin." Wintrow smiled as he went through the pre-flight check list. "And you'll be flying for a little bit too, it's really easy." Taking his time, Wintrow explained the console as it sat before him and which reading was for what, which button for which move or action. "Shuttles are easy, starships are hard," he confessed, while keeping his eyes on his controls.

"Is that what you plan on doing eventually?"

"Yes, when I get qualified for bridge duty again. I was... removed from it..." The shame of that feeling still stung bad in the young man. The memory still almost brought him to tears. "I'm not allowed on the bridge."

Rael's instinctive reaction was to reach out. When faced with such an outpouring of grief, it was all he wanted to do to embrace it in warmth and comfort. Physically and mentally. Recalling Wintrow's earlier aversion, he did neither. "Whyever not?" he asked, soft.

"I almost crashed the ship," Wintrow confessed as the shuttle started to lift off and drift towards the force field. "I miscalculated, and bumped the ship into another."

"Surely a learning experience," Rael replied, eyes warm.

"I love to fly sir," Wintrow explained, "it's what I do best. I was scared, distracted, so no I don't think it'll happen again. It was my first time at the helm of a starship. Before coming here, I flew Razors sir... I was part of a fighter wing."

"Is there a difference between flying a Razor and flying one of these?" Rael asked, flicking the arm of his chair pointedly. "Which do you prefer more?"

"Uhm, these are carriers sir, they carry personnel or equipment. Razors, you fly alone. No co-pilot, no passengers. Just you and your target... We could switch the program if you prefer sir." Wintrow wouldn't mind at all but that'd defeat the purpose of this exercise wouldn't it?

Probably! "For the purpose of this maneuver, I believe the shuttle shall suit quite nicely."

"That's what I thought sir," Wintrow replied quietly as he maneuvered the shuttle outside, "I'm happy flying shuttles, though on occasion I do miss flying in formation with a Razor."

"I fear I've limited flight experience," Rael said, though he was raptly absorbing every movement and explanation that Wintrow offered.

"I had none in my first time in a Razor," Wintrow chuckled as the shuttle cleared the ship. "I have a fair number of holodeck crashes signed to me sir, but I pride myself on having learned how to crash land now." He stood and gestured towards the pilot's seat. "All yours."

Oh god. Rael switched seats with him. Good news! They did provide rudimentary shuttle operations courses at Starfleet Medical. Rael had a very basic idea of what to do, so he pushed a button. :3

"Not bad sir," the boy complimented with a smile while sliding into the copilot's seat. "Slowly increase our speed so we can take her for a spin around the moon." He pointed towards the controls to use and explained how to increase speed.

Rael increased their speed. "What introduced you to piloting?" he wondered.

"Accidentally listening in on a wing before the hatch gave and I literally dropped in. I was invited to come along and the wingcommander thought I had talent." He sounded more modest in tone of voice than his words did.

"That's quite remarkable," Rael said with a faint nod. "I have no doubt that you will make an excellent helmsman."

"Assuming I'll ever fly a starship again," Wintrow replied. He kept an eye on the controls as he spoke. "But I still have two years to go so who knows."

"You will. You are very young, yet. There is much time ahead of you to assure others that you belong at the helm."

Wintrow chuckled. "How old do you think I am?"

Rael wrinkled his nose, and squinted. "Perhaps... seventeen?" his brows lifted hopefully.

Wintrow laughed. "No sir, I'm not seventeen sir. I recently turned twenty."

"Indeed. You are seven years younger than I."

"Obviously," the younger man chuckled, "except you don't look your age sir....if I'd have to guess I'd give you no older than twenty."

"I believe that was a compliment," Rael preened.

"Yes sir," the pilot replied smartly, "though it's hard to judge a Vulcan's age... me, I'm half Human. Humans are fairly easy to guess. For a Human anyway."

"Still," the Vulcan said, "twenty years of age is quite young. You have many years ahead of you."

"Yeah... assuming I'll survive to live that long." Wintrow's tone turned flat, the laughter leaving his eyes altogether.

"A sense of foreshortened future is not uncommon in those who have experienced early peril," Rael replied softly. "We cannot know what the future holds, but I have a feeling that yours will shine very brightly."

"I don't know... somehow it seems as if someone's always out to kill me. If it wasn't my brother or stepmother, it was a big burly Orion..." He shuddered visibly at the memory of the Orion and instinctively his hand went to his chest where until a few weeks ago, a brand sported his skin.

Rael mirrored him, touching his own chest. "What was here?"

"A mark..." Two words, uttered in a bare whisper as the cadet dropped his hand. "he marked me... as if he owned me." He could still feel the pain of the white hot branding iron as it touched and burned his skin.

The Vulcan's hands lifted from his console--but it was holographic, and it didn't matter. They coasted along.

He turned to face Wintrow completely. "Look at me."

Tears in his eyes, Wintrow looked up, not sure what to expect. He'd spoken with several people about this already, and the feeling never changed. It still caused pain, and fear.

"I want you to hear me, all right?" A beat, and then, softly: "You own yourself. As long as you are in here--" he tapped his head. "As long as you are in here." He touched his chest. "As long as you can put one foot in front of the other. Those who try and take you from yourself can only ever succeed in transience."

"But I wasn't in control," Wintrow breathed, "I could do nothing to stop them. I tried, I failed. Me saying no meant little to them."

"Sometimes it does not," Rael agreed. "Sometimes people are twisted by cruelties thrust upon them so they take power instead of sovereignty. Because they are afraid. But you are here." He touched his chest, never once looking away from Wintrow's eyes. "You are here, and you have the ability to make choices now. To act now. To respond. To live. You have the choice. You're still a person, Wintrow Paragon. Worthy. No one can ever diminish that."

"I live," Wintrow agreed, "but I can't shake this fear. I'm... afraid to be intimate, to let anyone in. Afraid of getting hurt."

"Those are very legitimate fears. The thing about fear is that it is, above all else, a rational emotion. We spend a lot of time trying to convince ourselves that it's not."

"How is fear rational? Why do we keep fearing things that shouldn't be able to hurt us anymore?"

"It sounds silly, doesn't it?" Rael smiled. "Fear is the evolutionary instinct that keeps us alive. We learned that the wolf can hurt us, so we fear when we hear it howl. That fear drives us away from the wolf. Away from the danger."

"Fear is an illusion of the mind," Wintrow countered, "but it's a very real illusion. I have nothing here that I should fear and yet... I do. My stepmother can't touch me, my sister is safe, my brother is dead. The Orion... can't touch me anymore either... but I still fear I may meet him again someday. I just know I will."

"Fear--is a little like that evolutionary man. He can be taken away from the forest, but when he hears a dog bark? His brain is ready to alert him to that danger. Our sympathetic nervous system activates and we enter fight-or-flight mode. It's a neurological response. The memories you contend with are like dogs. Their howls sound like wolves, and your brain is doing what it must to protect you from harm. That is why your fear is so evident, even when you wish it wasn't."

"I don't know what to do about it," Wintrow confessed, touching a few controls to bring the holographic shuttle to a halt. "I don't know how not to be afraid of touch, of someone merely lifting a hand..."

"I understand. That is something that can only come with time, treatment and effort. My door will always be open to you, Wintrow, if you ever decide that this is an avenue you are willing to explore."

"I do... I don't want to be afraid. I freeze up every time my roommate touches me and she's very... touchy feely. And then there's this other girl... she kissed me! And I... I want to kiss her too but I'm afraid to... I want to be able to tease my roommate, but I can't."

Rael straightened. "Can I ask if you would be willing to try something for me?"

Searching the Vulcan's face, but sensing nothing untoward, Wintrow nodded. It felt safe, his danger sense wasn't kicking in so far. "What is it?"

He held up his hand, palm-down. He radiated peace. Walls down. Miles and miles of calm. You are safe, here. "Touch my hand?"

Hesitating, Wintrow offered a trembling hand, which slowly slid over the Vulcan's. The sense of calm was overwhelming; he wasn't used to this much of 'calm'. Palm now fully covering the bridge of Rael's hand, Wintrow just watched him, dark blue eyes watched him, filled with anticipation and anxiety.

Nothing happened. No bashing hands, no beating fists. Just Wintrow's beating heart. Slowly wrapped in calm. "Small steps," Rael murmured. "You can overcome your fears, Wintrow. With time. In small steps. Like this one."

"But you're not scary," Wintrow murmured, "you emanate this sense of trust....but those officers who think it necessary to bark orders simply because they can...." He shuddered, forcing himself to retain the contact. "Your touch... it feels safe."

"Small steps," he smiled, and squeezed Wintrow's hand once before releasing it. "You felt fear--yet, you overcame. Your rational mind told you that I was not someone to fear and you were able to listen to it. This is something that will follow you forward as you progress."

"But I knew the touch was coming, that it was inevitable. It's the unexpected touch that frightens me. The kind that I'm not aware of until it occurs..."

"Eventually this is a response that you will be able to control," Rael assured him. "First we start with what we know. We measure what we can measure. We do what we can do. And then," his hand flipped over, "we build."

"I've no problem with shaking hands," Wintrow offered, "because I know what's coming. Doesn't mean I like it because touch means being overwhelmed by feelings. I don't know how to keep other's emotions out of my own mind. Sometimes it's very overwhelming and handshakes only make it worse."

"Yes I imagine that would be quite distressing. I faced a similar issue in my youth," he revealed plainly, without a trace of pain or shame. "I was able to overcome it with the help of a counselor on Vulcan. Telepathic shielding is something that can be taught--with time," he repeated again, "and effort."

"Could you teach me?" Wintrow asked seriously.

"I absolutely could, yes. If you are willing. It is not something that will come out of a single session. You will be required to attend multiple sessions with the goal of furthering your understanding."

"Yes, I do want to learn," Wintrow replied earnestly, "and I will make the time for it, if you're willing to teach sir. It's something that I should've learned as a child, but since no-one told me or even got me a tutor... I didn't know about my heritage as I already explained. Not until I was about sixteen or seventeen..."

"As long as you are willing to do the work--I am one hundred percent willing to teach you," Rael said, his eyes crinkling slightly.

"Oh yes sir," Wintrow promised, dark eyes shining brightly, "I need to learn this sir. I really do need to."

"Then," he said, "You will."

The younger man smiled gratefully, resisting the urge to hug the man. "Thank you," he breathed, relief on his face. "Shall we take the shuttle for another spin?"

"Indeed, we shall."

Casting the counsellor a wicked grin now, Wintrow gestured for him to vacate the pilot's seat. "Hold on," he warned, before taking the small craft quite literally into a spin.

Rael's hands gripped the sides of his chair as they spun around, though his eyes were locked in fascination on the viewscreen. He displayed no fear whatsoever, completely confident in Wintrow's abilities.

Leveling the shuttle out, he then spun it in the opposite direction. His eyes sparkled, though he was obviously concentrating on what he was doing. Finally leveling out again, he looked sideways. "You okay sir?"

"Indeed, that was most illuminating." Rael sounded thrilled--as thrilled as a Vulcan could sound.

"Would you like to try?" Wintrow offered the controls back to him.

"What is the worst that could happen?" Rael asked wryly as they switched positions. "I am to do a barrel roll?" he surmised, eyeing the controls.

"If you wish." The younger man smiled happily. "The worst that could happen is the inertial dampeners fail mid roll and we land on the ceiling of the shuttle. Could be fun but I don't recommend it."

"Let us hope that does not occur." Rael carefully repeated the motions Wintrow had done only moments before to bring them into a cleanly executed barrel roll. Good job, Rael!

"Maybe you missed your calling sir, you're doing quite well," Wintrow praised. Credit where credit was due, of course!

He was having a dandy time, executing barrel rolls left and right--until, of course, the inertial dampeners failed. Whoops. "Computer, revert program to last known optimal parameters!" Rael called before they splattered against the top hull. Phew. Everything was copasetic as they rightsided themselves. "Are you all right?" he asked his partner-in-crime, looking windswept himself.

"Just peachy," Wintrow answered, crawling back into his seat, rubbing his arm. "That'll bruise for sure..." He failed to mention he bruised extremely easy.

"I regret that my piloting skills were not quite as proficient as yours," Rael said, wincing faintly.

"Not bad for a first try," Wintrow countered, "with practice that'll go better. Fortunately we're on a holodeck and the safeties should be engaged. If they weren't, that bruise could be a heck of a lot worse sir."

"Then, I propose we make a deal. You teach me to fly this shuttle correctly, and I shall teach you how to shield your mind from others. Together, we can only become greater than the sum of us both."

"I like that reasoning," Wintrow agreed, this time offering his hand without hesitation. He felt at ease in this Vulcan's company. Safe. And offering a hand, now felt safe to do.

Rael shook. Firm, but brief.

"We should get back, or just end the program. I'm sure you've duties to attend to sir," Wintrow suggested as he leaned back in his seat.

"Indeed. Please know that my door is always open to you, Wintrow. I shall communicate with you soon to arrange a session, would that be acceptable to you?"

"Yes sir," Wintrow replied as the returned the holographic shuttle to the holographic ship. The landing was textbook, there wasn't even a bump!

[OFF]

Lieutenant JG Rael
Assistant Chief Counselor
USS Galileo

Cadet SO Wintrow Paragon
Support Craft Pilot
USS Galileo
pnpc Tyrion

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