The Shortest Distance Between Two Points

Posted on 22 Feb 2016 @ 11:10pm by Lieutenant JG Rael Psy.D.
Edited on on 24 Feb 2016 @ 5:36am

1,849 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Episode 10 - Symposium
Location: USS Galileo - Lounge
Timeline: MD84 2200

[ON]

Surprise! Rael was walking. It was this which occupied his off-duty hours to a degree some might categorize as considerable. He walked (right-side up and upside-down) into the lounge, which was devoid of any people--save one. The counselor appeared at his shoulder near the bar. Lightfooted, always, he had practically popped out of thin air. "Ensign Faye," Rael greeted, using his rank as they were outside a session and in public. He might be a silly sunshine Vulcan but he wasn't entirely clueless.

Tyrion, having been in deep thought, jumped as the Vulcan appeared out of nowhere. He hadn't even sensed him coming! "Lieutenant," he replied, feeling his heart beat in his throat. "You startled me sir."

"My apologies, Ensign Faye. Am I disturbing you?"

"Not at all sir," the Betazoid replied, gesturing towards the vacant chair next to him. "Can I buy you a drink?"

Rael raised his mug, which was filled with a late-night coffee. "I believe I am all right for now, Ensign. Thank-you." He sat, though.

"Alright." He nursed his own drink, which was actually a very hot and strong cocoa. After all, Betazoids did love their chocolate. "Can't sleep?" he asked softly, as he gestured towards the drink.

"As a Vulcan, I require much less sleep than most species," he said with a small smile. "What is it you are drinking?"

"Hot chocolate," the Betazoid replied quietly, pulling the mug towards himself in a fashion as though he was unwilling to share. "But as far as I know Vulcans and chocolate are like Humans and too much alcohol... you're safer sticking to coffee sir."

"Ah--yes, I believe you are correct." His brows rose, amused. "However, raktajino tends to provide one with much-needed caffeine. As they say on Earth, mine is better."

"That's entirely your prerogative sir," Tyrion smiled back, "I prefer hot cocoa which I believe is every Betazoid's vice..."

"Indeed. Difficulty sleeping, yourself?" he wondered, voice soft.

"Yeah... I'm not sleeping too great lately," Tyrion confessed, "and I don't want to keep my little girl up with my rummaging around. She's sound asleep though of course I'm not leaving her unattended." He gestured towards the activated monitor sitting in front of him.

"Of course. Given that the lounge offers non-replicated hot chocolate, I can hardly see why you wouldn't choose this change in scenery."

"That and usually this place is deserted around this time, which brings me to the question, what are you doing here?"

"I like walking."

"Ah... so you go for walks when you're bored?"

"Precisely," Rael inclined his head. "This ship has a diverse crew, as well as fascinating scientific facilities. It offers excellent exploring grounds."

"Well, this is a science vessel, of course it offers fascinating science facilities," Tyrion countered, chancing a sip from his too hot drink. "So you just walk? You've no hobbies that entertain you?"

"Walking entertains me."

"And what else? What do you do for fun?"

"Vulcans don't have fun," Rael reminded him primly.

"Oh... that's the generally accepted version," Tyrion chuckled, his black eyes sparkling as he turned his head, "along the same lines of the generally accepted idea that Vulcans don't have emotions."

"This is also correct. I am at least 95% android."

Now fully staring at him, Tyrion narrowed his eyes. "Now that is a blatant lie," he commented dryly, "I can't read androids, but I've no issue reading you."

"It is the other five percent, I assure you."

"Of course. So if you're an android, how do you prevent being hacked into by external forces?"

Rael leaned forward as though to impart ancient wisdom. "Magic powers," he whispered conspiratorially.

"Magic hmm?" Tyrion smiled as his eyes bore into his companion's, weaving his way into the Vulcan's surface emotions and thoughts. "Anything can be hacked into," he confided, "anything at all."

It was like weaving into a wall of ice. Slick and slippery. Nothing to grab onto. Falling further and further down. Ice could be cracked, to reveal more ice. Foundational ice. Rael tilted his head, thoughtful.

Unblinking, Tyrion continued to stare, brows creasing as his mental version slid down the equally mental ice. He clawed at the surface, searching for uneven spots to hold on to. His hands were warm, leaving wet traces on the surface. The Betazoid smiled as he concentrated.

There were no cracks. No crevices. No purchase to be found. Nothing but soothing, soothing ice. It wasn't harsh or even cold. Slippery and elusive, a blanket of calm wrapped in walls and comfort.

Blanket. Smiling, Tyrion allowed himself to be wrapped inside the blanket, becoming part of the wall. He was warm, melting his way through, seeping through like a drop of water might through a sand dune.

The wall melted! To more walls. Sorry, Tyrion. The wall was a planet, melting into the core, shearing away stones and glittering sea-surfaces. "Having fun?" Tyrion could feel the twinge of humor like fire-kindling. Dry and sparky.

"This is amusing," Tyrion murmured, continuing to stare. "Never seen anyone turn their mental walls into an ice slab before. But the mind is just another computer, and I've not yet met a computer I couldn't get into... eventually."

"You need not hack in, Tyrion." Rael had switched to his first name once again. The walls lowered. Ice melting away to the solidity of earth, the purchase of ground and warm soil. Wood and oak. Old, weathered, but firmly rooted. He was utter stillness, the reflection of sunlight on motes of dust. Serenity.

Regaining his footing, Tyrion observed his surroundings. "This is fun," he murmured, "why are you letting me in?" This was most unusual, most people clamped up at the very sight of 'Betazoid', but not this one.

"You seemed curious," Rael said as if it were the most obvious thing in the universe.

"Seemed?" Tyrion arched an eyebrow at him. "You are an enigma sir, of course I'm curious."

"Ah, of course," the Vulcan agreed. Agreeably.

"Aren't you?" Tyrion sat back, withdrawing from the Vulcan.

"Am I?"

"Curious? Aren't you curious?"

"About yourself?"

"Don't know if you are curious about me," Tyrion chuckled, "but you didn't reach out to me in any fashion. Usually, telepaths try to get a read on me."

"I would not do so unless I had your permission, Tyrion," Rael said, solemn.

Giving him a casual wave of his hand, the Betazoid shrugged. "You're the shrink here, do you really need permission?" He gave a second shrug. "Go right ahead, I got nothing to hide. Not from my personal life anyways. Duty wise, I'd suggest you stay clear of them."

"Yes," Rael maintained. "No one has an intrinsic right to your mind, regardless of their occupation."

"Some would beg to differ."

"I am sure that they do. I do not."

"Obviously." Tyrion shrugged again, then turned sideways to fully face him. "Have at it sir..."

Rael's seat swiveled a bit so that he was parallel to Tyrion. He was momentarily still, regarding the Betazoid thoughtfully. Finally, he held out one hand, palm-up.

Closing his eyes, Tyrion willed his mental walls down. He was so used to having them up, that it took some effort.

"Tyrion," Rael's voice was barely above a whisper. "You must take my hand."

"Oh." Promptly, the Betazoid reached out, their fingers brushing. He felt a jolt of electricity at the Vulcan's touch.

His skin was dry and fever-hot. As soon as Tyrion touched him, his eyes closed, and he took a slow breath in through his nose. Then, Tyrion could feel as the warmth grew steadily more profound. Through his fingertips and suffusing his mind and consciousness. Floating on a sea of cotton-candy, baking in the sun. Comfort. Tranquility. A greeting at his window, fresh air waiting to come in.

The intruder into his mind was met with a stone wall which gradually broke down into rubble. The thoughts were ill-controlled for the most part, and the emotions were plain to see. On the forefront of his mind was a single image, a Human/Trill hybrid male. The image was fainting however, flickering in intensity.

Rael accepted the images, thoughts and walls. Shadows and wisps, curling around him and disintegrating on impact. Through him and out of him, and in the end, he was still there. Fresh air. Breathing spaces and mountain ranges. Ready to take in more. He took the mindscape in with reverence, and it wove through him like a golden thread. He cupped the image with tender hands.

Within seconds, perhaps even less, Tyrion showed Rael all there was to know about him. His unhappy childhood, leaving home at 17, pretending to be Human so not to acknowledge who he was, denying his telepathy. Love, caring, friendship, fear. The face of a Vulcan appeared and there was a particular glow about him, as if he was special. But also grief, and shame.

All that grief and shame was wrapped up, bundled tight and cradled like it was precious. Every bit of it, cocooned in the light of peace. He did not flinch, he did not recoil. He only accepted it into him as though it were part of him. Delicately, he separated out some of those strands in Tyrion. Holding them to the light. Melting away ice and stones. A sense of deep and abiding respect filled Tyrion, molded out of his insides. Scraped up from the marrow of his bones. Assurance. Solidarity. Understanding.

Tyrion pulled back, not wanting his memories to be messed with. Especially not those precious to him. He blinked and pulled back his hand. "Enough," he stated hoarsely.

That was all it took. Rael was gone, receding like waves from a shore. His memories settled, the same as they have always been.

"Why did you do that?" the Betazoid whispered, "why did you touch them?"

"You keep these parts of you locked away. In places where kindness cannot reach. Those parts, like all of you, deserve compassion."

"I keep them safe," Tyrion countered harshly, "so I'll never forget."

"Yet, you showed it to me."

"Yes. I did, but maybe I shouldn't have. You shouldn't have touched it Rael." For the first time, Tyrion called the man by his name.

"I would never alter your experiences, Tyrion. I offer only acceptance. Nothing more. Nothing less."

"Acceptance of what?" Tyrion stared openly at him a confused frown on his face.

"You. Who you are. What you have done. What you hope to do."

"I know who and what I am," Tyrion replied flatly, "and I know where I come from. What I will do is something only the future can tell."

"I can only offer," Rael murmured. "That is all I would ever do. Your mind is your own." He lifted his hands. Peace.

"Right." Tyrion slid off the stool. "I have to get back to bed, I have an early shift. Good night."

[OFF]

Lieutenant JG Rael
Assistant Chief Counselor
USS Galileo

Ensign Tyrion Faye
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Galileo

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