The Beach; Reprise, The End

Posted on 13 Jan 2013 @ 6:40am by Lieutenant Commander Evelyn Coleman
Edited on on 13 Jan 2013 @ 6:48am

2,756 words; about a 14 minute read

Mission: Episode 02 - Resupply
Location: Vega IX: Puam Digh
Timeline: MD9 1830

ON:

It was an erroneous conclusion. Nevertheless, he'd made it. It seemed fairly obvious to him. She knew of Kaurak. Not only referenced it, but clearly understood when he brought it up. But that didn't necessarily translate into understanding the full situation. Illogical, the annoying-voice chirped at Liyar from the back of his head. A clearly illogical conclusion. Or maybe wishful thinking. If she knew, he didn't need to explain. Wishful thinking was irrelevant. Vulcans did not wish.

"That time has passed," he opened with, after several long (and unnecessary) moments. "However, during that period, my bondmate and my son, were aboard the Lykan when it was destroyed." Being an intelligence officer, it was probable she'd heard of its destruction. It likely explained the record on Kaurak as well. "Their links in my mind were very strong, and old. This severance has had consequences for me."

He said it in the most unemotional way, it sounded like he was talking about plant biology instead of his dead family. His face was utterly devoid of feeling.

Evelyn frowned, "Never gets easy does it?" She asks turning to look away from Liyar. "My deepest condolences for your loss, Liyar. I think, I'm one of the few people on the Galileo that can fully comprehend what you've had to endure these past few years."

He'd done enough research on Coleman to understand what she was talking about, at least in terms of her spouse. He did also understand the El-Aurian situation, but did not bother prying for details about her specific case, viewing anything other than the personnel file he'd seen to be an invasion of privacy. Standing across from her, he could feel well enough the answer. "I grieve with thee," he intoned sincerely.

Silence befell them once again for many moments before he correct absently, "Months." He elaborated. "Two months, nine days, eighteen hours, thirty-two minutes, fifty-seven seconds and nine point three nanoseconds. I am capable of reciting further, but I am told that people find such accuracy -" He paused, realizing he was rambling. "Disconcerting," he finished, pulling his eyes away to stare back at the interplay of colors against the strange, alien ocean.

Coleman let the silence between them stand for few minutes before she spoke, "One hundred twenty four years, eight months, fifteen days, four hours and five minutes ago...the USS Lexington detected an alien transmission of unknown origins, in an unknown language. The Captain played the message so the bridge crew can hear... I still remember that day." She closed her eyes, "And several decades later I receive the notice of my husband's death..." her voice trailed as she shifted on her feet. "Not to mention the friendships I've made during the years... it's probably why I preferred to be alone."

Rather than offer any platitude, which he was poor at and knew would fall flat, he simply decided to tell the story. Despite the recollection that Coleman was tired of listening. It was the only way he understood how to express empathy. "When Hobus overtook Romulus, I collapsed. I was one of only few to experience it, though none can discern why, as I am only above-average in telepathic ability. Yet, I spent months in the care of Healers. They diagnosed persistent vegetative state. Billions of lives. Each with their own small worlds in turn. That part of our Greater Consciousness has never been cut off. They were," he frowned, almost shrugging, shaking his head. "Screaming. In agony. At the same time. These individuals. A second of their own world of hurt and grief," he snapped his fingers, "As they watched their friends and family die, before it was taken away in their deaths. All of it," he tapped his temple with two fingers, in here went unspoken. He cleared his features from their momentary hauntedness. "I cannot imagine if it were Vulcan. If it were my colleagues, my family. An event like that. Knowing an entire planet is gone. Feeling it. Being part of that loss. It changes the concept from being an abstract. And those you speak to, only understand it as abstract. They cannot really know."

Evelyn turned to look at him, "The Hobus supernova did more than destroy Romulus," she whispered softly, "something shifted, something changed. It was as if... a new branch just sprouted from the trunk."

As if he knew exactly what she was talking about, he nodded. It was his own opinion that the decision at Romulus was one of the black marks on the history of the Vulcan people. They outright refused to help their own. If they could justify the Exodus, they could not justify this. And in the process, they had condemned billions to death. It was something that still, two years later, caught him off guard. It was a stain, in the soul of their entire Consciousness. It was in the same way most Vulcans referred to such things in the plural, rather than the singular, as a species linked to one another in that small way as they were, as telempaths. As much as the Council had made that decision, it carried a sense that they were responsible, nonetheless, even if they had absolutely no part in it. This very feeling was what had prompted him to begin drafting Miran's secession from the High Council's influence to put forward. They were beginning to resemble, to him, the High Command. It had taken the kir'shara itself to turn them around then. He did not know what it would take now.

She blinked and looked at Liyar, "And what I feel when I look at you, it's as if you're slightly out of focus. You felt an entire world die, add that to your personal loss, no wonder your meditation isn't suppressing your emotions." Eve looked down at her hands, as they caressed each other. "I can help you, if you're willing?"

It was, he thought, somewhat refreshing to speak to someone who didn't expect him to emote. It was the one thing that constantly tripped him up, even in the counselor's office, how much most of this crew simply expected him to be like them, as if his mode of being itself was unhealthy, because it did not resemble theirs. "Indeed?" he asked, without any condescension, but genuine curiosity. (And one day, that curiosity will kill him, he's certain of it.)

Evelyn reached out, "Hold still..." she whispers as her fingers softly brushed his cheek, before her hand gently grasped his right ear. Eve closed her eyes and concentrated. The El-Aurian focused and sent a wave of positive empathy towards the Vulcan in exchange for the pain he's been carrying. She released his ear and opened her eyes at him, "whoa...you had a lot of pain..." she whispers, her shoulder's feeling a bit heavier. "feeling better?"

Liyar's eyes flew open from where they'd instinctively shut and she was easily able to feel him actively restrain himself from lashing out at her telepathically, with unexpected strength. His hands were in fists at his sides, his whole body crackling with a telepathic glow, coiled and ready to explode. He didn't. At first she hit a complete barrier, a veritable watertight compartment of shielding. He managed to keep the energy in check, and let her past his instinctive shields with only very great effort, slowly loosening his fists and his posture when he felt he could trust the presence in his head. He recognized it for what it was. He blinked a couple times in a row. It felt like something in his lungs let up an unrelenting vice grip. "Are you - well?"

"I'll live," she smirks, looking at him. ''you? You alright now?"

"I will live," Liyar deadpanned. "However, I request that in the future, you provide me with some warning." It had taken him, quite obviously, completely by surprise.

"We both know, had I asked, you would have declined." Evelyn smiled at him, regaining her previous composure, "you're in focus now." Eve spoke calmly as she looked him over, "you notice anything different about yourself?"

Unbeknownst to him, several grey hairs were popping up all over his head. Courtesy of Evelyn Coleman. And he was getting shrill. That last reply definitely had a feeling of shrillness to it. He could still feel his heart rate vibrating in his side. He quietly lowered it to normal standards and contemplated her question.

He did notice several things, but he wasn't sure any of them were good. Still, he figured that logically, if he was capable of reasoning all of this out, it must mean that he was still in control of his own faculties. In fact, what she'd done had probably been no more than what he and his peers had naturally done as children to help stabilize themselves within their own circles, eventually learning to do it on their own without assistance. Since the fal-tor-plak he'd developed that rather harsh response to uninvited contact.

But he did feel stabilized. Which was more than what he could have said half an hour ago. "I have able to attain only level three meditation." Which was not good at all. "I believe I may be capable of undergoing a more intensive session." One that hopefully would not end with more and more frustration and Doom and Gloom. Those were worse than even trying at all. He turned and regarded her, with genuine calm this time. "It is," he tried to think of an appropriate term, "Quieter. I am grateful for your assistance," he told her truthfully, despite his earlier reaction. And the whole prematurely aging him thing.

"I confess, I never performed the empathy trick to a non-El Aurian before...I'm glad I remembered how to do it." Eve whispered and then took a step away from Liyar. She rubbed her hands as the sense of nervousness overcame her her sight fixated at the bondfire in the distance. "Tell me, Liyar, when you look at your comrades over there by the fire, what do you see?"

He looked, tilting his head at them. "A group of young Starfleet personnel engaging in some form of recreational activity. Though, I admit I do not exactly know what you mean by this question." He studied her, as if trying to figure out her meaning, her demeanor.

"I see that too, but besides that... I see them and I think, I'll out live all of them." She sighed looking at her Vulcan colleague, "My grandfather lived to be a thousand and ninety-two...what am I going to do for eight hundred years?"

Liyar pondered that for a while, keeping his eyes on the loud whoops and festivities in the air. "'And love Creation's final law / Tho' Nature, red in tooth and claw / With ravine, shriek'd against his creed. / And falling with my weight of cares / Upon the great world's altar-stairs / That slope thro' darkness up to God, / The freezing reason's colder part, / And like a man in wrath the heart / Stood up and answer'd 'I have felt.''" He quoted it with an arched eyebrow, contemplative. "To seek out such connection willingly, knowing the inevitable loss ahead, the pain that it will cause you when their time ends. To connect, and lose, or to remain alone. The question you face is, is it worth it?"

"Tennyson never had to experience being almost ageless." Evelyn sighed, "Sometimes, it's worth it, other times... you feel cursed."

"I expect so," Liyar agreed quietly.

Evelyn looked down, "You should take notes, Liyar... you're witnessing the extinction of an entire society."

A few of the crew around the fire were dancing to some ridiculous rendition of a song Liyar couldn't place. Perhaps his own experience with Romulus and the Dominion had made him irreversibly crazy, but Coleman had put into words the exact sensations he'd felt over the last two years.

Evelyn sighed, she hadn't intended for the conversation to take such a negative tone, now she was feeling depressed having reflected on her life. "I think I might head back to the ship..." she replied, gazing at the fire. "I'm not in a party mood." Eve looked at her friend and asked, "Will you be fine on your own, with the Terrans and their meat, or would you prefer I remain for moral support?" She quickly added, "I wouldn't mind. Despite the recent topic discussion, I do enjoy your company."

"They are oddly fascinated by consuming charred animal products." He said the last with a small frown of barely disguised distaste.

"It's something very...instinctual about using fire to cook one's meal. I confess, I do enjoy a good steak from time to time." Eve shrugged, "However, perhaps what you need is an olfactory nerve suppressant to keep you from smelling the charred meats."

Liyar had to admit that his reaction to it was much more instinctive than he'd originally anticipated. "I am highly averse to it," he concurred, almost confused as to why. While most Vulcans found it unpleasant, he hadn't heard of any of them finding it this unpleasant.

"Most Vulcans typically are.." Evelyn shrugged, "would you like something that may help you through this?"

"That depends on what it is," Liyar replied wryly.

Eve smirked, "When you are undercover, you may be forced to eat something you may find repulsive, well there is a pill for it." She lifted her bag, and and reached in to pull out a small container. "I wasn't sure what was on the menu, and while I don't object to charred meat, humans tend to drench it in various flavors of BBQ sauce, which I can't stomach on my own." She lifted the small package up, "you want one?"

Liyar took it, peering at it thoughtfully. "I do not believe it solves the problem. You cannot sense this?" he asked, kneeling down slightly on the sands to allow one of the unusual crab things to crawl up onto his hand.

"Oh you sense animals too?" she asked, watching him.

"Yes," Liyar answered, letting the Prog crab scuttle about on his forearm obliviously. "It makes the prospect of consuming them nearly intolerable."

Eve merely looked at the Vulcan as he let the crab crawl on his arm. "Alright, you're the weirdest Vulcan I ever met. And that says a lot, trust me."

"Weirdest." Liyar looked up. "I do not know what weird is," he admitted, unaware that he was idly stroking the top of the crab's shell. Completely unweirdly, of course.

She arched her brow, shifting on her feet as she explained, "You have a personal behavior that is somewhat unorthodox for a traditional Vulcan."

"So I have been told," the Vulcan said idly. "I am not Shi'kahri, if that is what you mean," Liyar stated/requested, flicking his eyes up to Coleman curiously.

"That could be it." She smirked and then titled her head as her ears picked up a faint sound. "I guess they decided to incorporate the music into their party."

Leaning over a little, Liyar could hear the random notes being sung in a language he didn't understand, along with an accompanying drum beat. He could make out the vague features of Darwisch, Davis, Athlen (he doesn't pity) and Kell. "It appears that they have. Do you wish to return to their..." he looked over them, "Firepit? I believe it is called."

"No, I'm going to head back to the ship. You are free to join them if you'd like." Evelyn smiled.

Liyar nodded farewell, and watched as she departed down the shoreline toward the beach and beyond to the transport station. He made no move to leave himself, preferring the peace and calm of solitude, the sounds of others enjoying themselves, there and vibrant, but without any requirement for him to participate. He stayed for a long while, mulling things over, until the party subsided and the crew began to file back toward the transport station at long last.

OFF:

Lieutenant Evelyn Coleman
Chief Intelligence Officer/2X0, SFI
USS Galileo

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

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