Imaginary Numbers

Posted on 06 Jan 2013 @ 1:28pm by

3,034 words; about a 15 minute read

Mission: Episode 02 - Resupply
Location: USS Galileo: LTjg Liyar's Quarters
Timeline: MD16 1300 Hours

ON:

Sekhet winced to himself. Referral pending. Evaluatory hiatus. That wasn't exactly a surprise. Liyar wasn't used to Starfleet protocols, hadn't gone to more than two weeks at the Academy, and probably didn't expect such a uniquely Terran perspective on mental health. He brought up another screen on the comm, reading through the notes Carlisle had made on Liyar.

Closed off, it began, forcing Sekhet to suppress a smile. Uncooperative, resistant, it continued and Sekhet shook his head. Refusal to answer necessary questions. That was unusual. What could she have asked?

He hit a few of the touchpad buttons on his comm and typed in a brief message. Counselor Sekhet to USS Galileo. Referral acknowledged, acceptance pending. He stood and walked over to his replicator, typing in the code for theris sas-shava. When it materialized, he took a calming sip and looked up at the beep of his comm, and walked over to read it.

Acceptance acknowledged.

***
Liyar finished up the final touches on his coding in the science lab and brought the computer terminals down to a close, tucking the fereikek reh into his pocket and grabbing his PADD before turning the lights off and leaving. He had applied a sealant to the back of Jared's chair to close up the cracks he'd created in it after witnessing Jared's neurological scans.

He hadn't seen anything like that except in the victims at P'Jem. And himself. The result of the Dominion weapon. They'd never been able to determine what the exact effects of it were, only that Liyar and ten others were the few to return to regular consciousness afterward. The efforts on determining its effects with the Dominion were unproductive. But what about the Orions? Were they using similar technology? Did Rhiell know about this?

He stalked back to his quarters, ignoring the ensign that jumped out of his way at a particularly Glowery glower sent toward him, and hit the turbolift, mind entrenched in his own musings. "Deck two," he called tersely. He made quick work of the corridor down past Panne's and Stone's to the end of the hall where his own quarters were. He strode in and removed his uniform jacket, hitting the replicator first and then grabbing his asenoi and the unused injection packets of Lexorin on the table. A beep on his comm interrupted his introspective reverie.

"Call from Ensign Sekhet, USS Gladiator. Do you accept?" the computer asked.

Liyar blinked slowly. "Accept." He finished his injection before Sekhet's face materialized on the screen, and he sat down. It was 1300 hours, surely Sekhet would be in the middle of his duties. And he was, in his office and in uniform. "Explain," Liyar said impatiently.

"You were not cleared for duty by Counselor Carlisle." Sekhet jumped right to the point, folding his hands in front of him and gazing at Liyar calmly.

"Affirmative. I will find another to complete the necessary evaluation."

"Yes, you will. Myself."

"Is that not a conflict of interest?" Liyar was skeptical.

"Why would I have a vested interest in allowing you to serve if you are incapable of it?" Sekhet pointed out reasonably. "I interned at P'Jem. I know your history better than any other counselor in Starfleet, and I am a Vulcan. I am the most logical choice."

Liyar let out a breath and gestured dismissively. "I assume you will also want to a foray into my extensive emotional life?"

"Sarcasm, Liyar?" Sekhet's eyes glinted with humor. "I see you are learning to fit in already." If the first thing Liyar learned about intuitive Standard was sarcasm, Sekhet thought to himself, it wasn't exactly surprising. He wasn't known for his congeniality even on Vulcan. If Vulcans were congenial. He'd always thought Liyar had an ascerbic bent.

Liyar didn't dignify that with a response.

"Did Carlisle want a tour of your, emotional life?" Sekhet asked again, stacking a few PADDs against one another and setting them down lightly.

"She asked questions that were not her prerogative to demand an answer."

"Why not?" Sekhet asked, eyebrow arched. "She is your counselor aboard the Galileo."

"She does not understand the Vulcan Way."

"Why should she?" Sekhet countered.

"If she is to be my counselor, then she must not treat me as some emotionally unhealthy Terran. I am neither."

"Emotionally unhealthy, or Terran?"

"Neither," Liyar repeated, tensing his jaw.

"How are your meditations progressing?" Sekhet decided to switch the subject.

"Adequately."

"Do not give me that, Liyar. How much Lexorin do you take a day?"

"Enough." Liyar's expression became cold.

"It is logical for you to cooperate with me," Sekhet said, exhaling. He took a look at Liyar's file. "Your file here says that you are uncooperative, defiant and resistant. You say that other Vulcans serve in Starfleet without being made to answer emotional questions, which is true, but most of them are cooperative. Vulcan mental health is different, you are correct. We suppress emotion, and we use contemplative meditation to deal with our experiences. You are not dealing, Liyar, you are ignoring."

"You do not have any right to speak to me as if I am some recalcitrant child," Liyar bit out lowly. "My meditation is progressing adequately. I am taking the recommended dose of Lexorin per day. I am," he gestured again, shaking his head. "As well as can be expected, Sekhet," he said, backed into a corner, "You of all people cannot ask more of me than this. If you have a concern, bring it to T'Maile."

"How well do you think people are expecting you to be, Liyar?" Sekhet asked, tilting his head forward. "Wait a -"

Liyar cut him off. He found himself repeating the same thing he had said to Coleman. "I am not a madman. I am not going to go insane. I was cleared by Faevren and the embassy both. If you want me to be a beacon of peace and serenity, you will have to give me some time. I am fully capable of doing my job."

"The recommended dose is not a guideline," his voice was hard. "It is a warning," Sekhet added, undeterred from the last time. "Do not expect me to fall for the ignorant act, Liyar. You are smarter than that. What is upsetting you so much?"

"Vulcans do not get upset."

"I can assure you, they do. With frequency," Sekhet added with a twitch of his lips. "You are evading the question." Sekhet's gaze was probing.

Liyar breathed inward. "What do you want me to explain?" he exclaimed tempestuously. "I cannot exist in my own mind without constantly forcing the others back? I cannot function without taking 7 miligrams of Lexorin a day because it is the only thing that stops their voices? T'Maile will not simply let me be recalled, I must do my duties. I am able to deal with my problems. I will deal with it."

Sekhet blinked. "Liyar - I do not understand. What voices? What is going on?"

"Not," he sighed. "Not in that way. Their minds. Their thoughts. Everywhere. It saturates the entire room."

"Yes, it says here, that you brought something of classified importance to their attention. What I cannot understand, is why you are feeling all of this? Did any other Vulcans aboard sense these things?" Sekhet asked, unable to help the worry in his tone.

"No." He glanced downward and told the next bit to his computer desk. "Whatever it was, it increased my psi-capacity. I was able to control another being's mind. Something on Vega IX's beach."

"Control - Liyar!" Sekhet burst out, eyes blazing. That was not something any normal Vulcan should have been able to do. That Liyar had also felt Romulus's destruction was another on his internal list of really weird things to happen to his brother. "No other Vulcans aboard experienced any of this, it is unique to you. Is it not?" he demanded.

"I do not know." It was one of the few truths he could admit.

"I need to include this in my report, Liyar," Sekhet said, frowning minutely. "I cannot just allow you to continue serving like this. I can tell that you are not meditating with frequency."

Liyar stared blankly. "I am a military officer. I will not allow you to dictate the parameters of my abilities."

"I believe the Terran phrase is tough. You are a Starfleet officer, and you are skirting the line of acceptable accountability to do your job in that capacity. I would like to work with you on this, Liyar. And I believe that I can, but you are going to have to cooperate. You will need to work with Counselor Carlisle, or someone on board Galileo. This is not a negotiation," he stopped Liyar's inevitable retort, holding up a hand. He was clearly used to handling Liyar's recalcitrance. "I will clear you for conditional duty. Failure to meet these conditions will result a revokation of this duty."

"What conditions would these be?" Liyar asked reluctantly.

"You will report to counseling bi-weekly," the counselor immediately said, tapping his fingers as he went down his list. "You will take the prescribed dose of your medication. You will wear psi-clamps and take a re-evaluatory psi-test. Not a negotiation," he interrupted calmly, "You will allow me to send my written analysis to your counselor on the Galileo, who will work with me in determining the course of your treatment."

"This is private," Liyar disagreed with a shake of his head. "I cannot allow you to do this. I will not speak of these things with an outworlder."

"Then you will be gratified to know that I am not an outworlder. As for Counselor Carlisle or Counselor Blake, they are the counseling officers aboard the Galileo and they need to be reasonably certain that you are capable. They cannot remain ignorant, and they will not. It is illogical to assume otherwise, Liyar."

"It is not theirs to determine," Liyar said again. "We do not speak of these things. To anyone. I would not. I cannot."

"Why not?" Sekhet asked.

"Because," Liyar said, glancing upward.

"That is not a very forthcoming answer."

"It is mine to answer. You have no right to force it, it is private."

"You are right," Sekhet said with a nod. "I do not. But I do have the right to the conditions I have laid out. Will you accept them?"

Sighing almost invisibly, Liyar nodded, barely.

"Good." Sekhet leaned over and typed something anew. "What do you do outside of your duties?" he changed the subject again. "Any projects? Any friends?"

"Vulcans do not make friends easily."

"You keep telling me what Vulcans can and cannot do. What do you do? You are not Shi'kahri, either. You are psi-native. You are telling me that the disconnect from k'war'ma'khon is going well for you?"

"No," Liyar agreed. "Not well." He didn't add much onto that, wondering internally what exactly he had gotten himself into. Counseling? Twice a week? With a Terran? Was Sekhet serious? What was he going to do? Why had he told any of this? How did Sekhet know to begin with? Surely he couldn't be that transparent... He tried to put it out of his head. Sekhet had already admitted that he did not have to discuss it. "Crewman Athlen is assisting me in integrating."

"Integrating," Sekhet repeated. "What does that mean exactly?"

"He states that the difference between the Consciousness and the Galileo is that the same effect that Vulcans get from the Consciousness is achieved by speaking with others in social settings."

"Is Crewman Athlen your friend?"

"I am certain he thinks so."

Sekhet arched an eyebrow. Affirmative, then. That was better than he'd expected of Liyar, if he had to be honest. Social participation, even a potential friend. Liyar wasn't really known for his tolerance. He wrote that down as well. The good with the bad, and all. He took a drink from the mug of tea on his desk. "What about your projects?"

"The Talar-Cardassia timeline is progressing. I am attempting to map out katric patterns to determine an accurate transposition of psi-native and non-psionic harmonics."

Sekhet offered him a blink for his trouble. "Mapping katric patterns? Is that possible?"

"We shall find out."

"What prompted this?"

"The piano."

"Indeed?"

"Affirmative," Liyar repeated himself again, wondering what was so difficult to understand. "The difference in musical harmonics between our species is fascinating to me. It may also explain why the Shi'kahri have trouble integrating our musical processions as well," he explained very rationally.

Sekhet nodded, not really sure he understood. Not only was Liyar dealing with the emotional strain of the recent events in his life, but he'd always been a rather odd duck as his Terran friends liked to say for most of his life. He was highly intelligent, but that intelligence was very, very different than he'd ever really encountered on Vulcan outside of a meditation cell. Liyar's functionality had always been something of an anomaly to him. When Liyar was a child, he knew Liyar's instructors found him more than a little bizarre. He would write entire compositions of nonsense, translate his mathematics problems into music, revisit old problems and solve them in completely new and absurd ways, invent languages, convince himself the pet sehlat was plotting his demise, assigning personality traits to the flowers in their wet-planet observatory, refusing to eat because it was destroying their life.

As an adult, this had gotten better, Liyar had went on medication and landed a job at the Vulcan Science Academy, where he was around other strange scientists like himself. He could blend in. T'Yron stabilized him in ways unprecedented. It was this, that prompted Sekhet's main worry. T'Yron was gone. He was in a completely new environment. People were asking questions. "Are you taking your regular medication?" he asked, put on that train of thought.

"The one that turns off my thoughts?" Liyar asked distastefully. "Of course not."

"Of course not," Sekhet repeated with an eyeroll. "It is not designed to turn off your thoughts, Liyar, and you know that. You will also take your meds. You are working as a diplomatic officer on board a front line ship. You cannot afford to have an episode while doing this job. You will make a mistake."

"I do not make mistakes," Liyar countered, eyebrows drawn.

"You do. Maybe not technically, but logically. You know this, Liyar. Your mind makes connections that are not there."

"That has not happened in years."

"Because you took your medication," Sekhet argued. "I understand it is more comfortable for you to work as you naturally do, but you need to remain focused. Again, this is not a request. I know the Lexorin is also helpful on that front, but the Tarinol is specific to your illness, Liyar. You need to take it. Are you eating? Sleeping?" he leaned forward, eyebrows raised.

"Yes. Sometimes." Liyar hedged defensively. He hated the Tarinol. It made his mind fuzzy. It didn't matter how many times Sekhet told him otherwise, Sekhet could not know how stifling and limiting it was. It zapped him of any creative ability at all. It felt like he was replicating a copy of his own ideas. And it made him nauseated.

"You will eat a balanced diet. You will sleep, at least two hours a night," Sekhet added completely unapologetically to the list. Liyar suppressed a scowl. He was eating just fine! Sekhet, unaware of Liyar's internal rampage, continued. "I have sent the required list through your comm panel. If I discover it is not being completed, and I will discover," he promised, "The conditions of your active duty will be unsatisfied. Am I understood?"

"Affirmative," Liyar agreed blankly. He was still trying to determine how Sekhet had managed to weasel his way into something he had no business knowing about. It was none of his concern. Liyar was the elder. Who did Sekhet think he was, traipsing in and dictating his life? "I cannot tell them about the Tarinol," he said, realizing what Sekhet could possibly be referring to. "They will -"

"They will do nothing," Sekhet corrected absently. "This is not the twenty-first century. You are fully capable of handling your life while you are on your medication. Severen and T'Maile both know and there is nothing threatening your future, unless you decide you will do it yourself by refusing assistance."

"You cannot promise this."

"I understand that you are reticent about this, Liyar, but I am not doing it to insult you. It is the best way I can think of for you to continue working in as frequent a way as you would like," he said gently. "I will try to be as discrete as possible," he assured. He didn't want people probing into Vulcan's Big Secret anymore than Liyar did, but someone had to know something. Taking on a more professional tone he continued typing on his comm.

Liyar felt himself backed into a corner, and his instinctive response was to lash out. No right. He had no right. Why was this happening? Why could they not leave him be? He inhaled sharply. "Very well," he responded tightly.

"Good. I will contact Counselor Carlisle and the counseling department aboard the Galileo as soon as possible. Do not make me regret doing this."

OFF:

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

Ensign Sekhet
Chief Counselor, SFM
USS Gladiator

 

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