Perfer Et Obdura; Dolor Hic Tibi Proderit Olim

Posted on 26 Jan 2013 @ 9:44am by Crewman Athlen & Lieutenant Lilou Zaren
Edited on on 27 Jan 2013 @ 6:04pm

5,973 words; about a 30 minute read

Mission: Episode 03 - Frontier
Location: USS Galileo: Mess Hall
Timeline: MD 01: 1215 Hours

ON:

Athlen and Liyar emerged through the mess hall doors in their usual conversation, this time it appeared to be an argument about the effect of non-Federation aligned interplanetary taxes and their effects on the Federation. Athlen groaned and pressed his hands into his eyes. Liyar blinked while they sat down at the large table in the corner, the only vacant one in the room thus far. "Is there something the matter?" Liyar asked obliviously.

"You are so boring," Athlen groused while poking his fork into some Rigelian contraption.

"Boring?" Liyar looked up from his soup. One of the four Vulcan food groups. Soup, soup, soup, and soup.

"Well, you're not always boring, but when you go on and on about interplanetary taxes I feel like I need a stroke to happen just at this time," he was laughing gesturing to the side of his head, "So I can avoid ever -"

Liyar gave him a slow blink and tipped his head downward a bit, a near-Vulcan eyeroll.

Athlen trailed off laughing, distracting himself by eating. It was only a few moments later that the two of them were interrupted by the short shape of the Trill chief engineer. Athlen moved his stuff over a little and looked up, smiling warmly. "Ensign Peers!" he greeted, it was the same woman they'd met in the Jefferies tubes. "Looks like we're the best spot available."

"More crowded than usual," she agreed. She looked around but didn't see Stone anywhere in the mess hall. The last thing she needed was for him to extrapolate some wild theory from seeing her sitting with Athlen. On a silent sigh, she said "Thank you" and took the offered seat, giving a quick nod of greeting to Liyar across the table. She'd chopped an apple and sprinkled the slices over her grakizh with a little lemon juice. Heaven on a plate. She'd be eating the apples the chef had procured from Vega until they were gone. Fresh fruit was a luxury she didn't intend to overlook. From the second she'd seen the Rigelian, the question had been hovering over the tip of her tongue, but she stuffed an apple slice in her mouth to keep from asking it. What did you do to get arrested? When? How? What is going on on this ship? She swallowed. "Senior staff briefing in an hour, right?"

The Vulcan inclined his head briefly. "As far as I am aware," he answered, wondering if she knew about the briefing or if she was attempting to converse with them. He was a poor conversationalist. Athlen, notoriously unawares as ever, was digging into a bowl of something with a small spoon. It looked like a chocolate brownie, with chocolate drizzle on top of it. Synthetic, he lamented, since the real stuff had enough sugar, caffeine and theobromine to make him a very annoying little Vulcanoid indeed.

Athlen scooped another small bit of chocolate-thing and arranged it neatly in front of him. He could tell, just by the way Lilou was looking at him, that something had changed. As an empath, he could feel the discomfort. It wasn't a shocking, heavy thing. But it was there. As was the little crease in her eye, the way her gaze lingered, a question hidden there. As a Trill/Terran, perhaps Lilou had the ability to restrain herself from asking. As a Rigelian, bluntness was in Athlen's nature, so he cocked his head to the side and asked gently, "Have I offended you somehow? You seem a little uncomfortable." He sighed inwardly. Were those rumors still going around?

"Wha- no-" Lilou started, then sighed again, looking at her salad. Honesty or apples. Honesty or apples. "I'm not uncomfortable," she said, which was entirely true. Well. Okay, not entirely true. She was always uncomfortable. And she was especially uncomfortable today, having to figure out a way to keep ahead of a man who could easily believe even now that she was working with some kind of terrorist organization or... whatever he thought the Andorian was behind. "I'm not uncomfortable with you. You haven't offended me." There. That was more accurate. She started to sigh yet again and took a drink of water instead. "You don't seem offensive to me at all," she went on, looking into her water as though a solution could be found in it. "So I don't understand- well. It's- nothing. It's fine." She looked at his plate. "That doesn't look like lunch."

"You do not understand how a nice, normal person like me ended up in the brig," Athlen pieced it together with a wry smile.

"Normal has variable definitions, Crewman."

"Don't be such a sour Vulcan," Athlen sing-songed happily into his molten lava brownie.

Lilou flushed, ducking her head, "I shouldn't have said anything."

"Oh, it's quite alright. I suppose you have met Lieutenant Stone by now. He has a bit of a problem with semantics," Athlen shrugged ruefully. He knew he'd be explaining this for a while so he toned it down to the essentials. "I asked Liyar, here, to engage in a normal ritual called t'an krila. This is a meditative spar. Because we are friends and the environment was informal, I phrased it informally, referring to it that we would fight later on. Lieutenant Stone did not see it that way," the Rigelian explained without any ire. "And no, I did not start any club," he laughed. The rumor mill on board was a terribly annoying thing. "I hold no ill will toward him. He's spoken of this to you?"

"He seems pretty sure that you did," she said, wrinkling her nose in frustration. "I tried to say that didn't sound like something anyone would do, let alone you, even though I don't know you well, but... he's... well." She sighed, peering into her water again. "In any case, I'm glad you're not in the brig."

"I'm pretty glad myself," Athlen replied with a grin.

She glanced between them, "Meditative spar?"

"T'an krila is like an inferior/superior sparring match. It is difficult to explain to non-Rigelians, but it is a conflict resolution strategy," he said while eating his brownie once again. He realized just then that Lilou had commented on it once before. "Oh, this, yes... not lunch," he wasn't particularly apologetic about it. "The best things often aren't. How are things in the engineering section?" Athlen asked, and then frowned. "I take it you've also had a run-in with Stone," he figured that out pretty quickly as well.

Lilou shifted her shoulders uncomfortably. She didn't want to speak ill of him. She didn't want to speak ill of anyone in general, but she really didn't want to give the Lieutenant any more reason to distrust her than he already did. "We're fine. The ship's in the air. Docking procedures are all in the clear and ready for flight control. It's a good day." It was better than some. "How are things in the sociology lab?" She looked between them again, "Was there any potential resolution found for the refugees?"

Liyar shifted his spoon a bit and took a bite of his soup. "I have devised a potential solution that may be approved," he said with a nod. "As the draft has been cast, it would be improper of me to discuss it outside the chambers. What of yourself?" he asked, making use of the very rudimentary conversational skills Athlen was teaching him. "I recall that you had your shield, that you were working to create."

"Your suggestion was very helpful," she told him. "I've begun redesigning the plans. Hopefully, while the away teams are scouting the Rojar moons, I'll have some more time to spend with them." She forked a bite of grakizh and chewed thoughtfully. "How did your research into Terran music turn out?"

Liyar looked up, blinking a bit. "Affirmative," he said in a more mild tone than he'd been using thus far. "I was able to find a suitable test subject," he said that while unconsciously unfolding his hands.

"What he means to say, is that he was working on a way to transpose the telepathic part of music to a non-telepathic brain, and vice versa," Athlen filled in while Liyar went on a tangent of some sort. "I think Lieutenant Panne helped out with that."

"Yes," Liyar agreed. "Once I was able to isolate the proper algorithm, she was capable of hearing the psionic transpositions after some adjustment. I am working on the reverse for now, but she did say that she could hear it when I attempted to play on Terran harmonics."

Lilou squinted at him. Then looked at Athlen, then looked back to Liyar. Telepathic parts of music? Psionic transpositions? "Okay," she said, then smiled slightly because it made her feel just a little bit less stupid to smile at this moment. "I have no idea what you're talking about, but... it sounds like you had positive results, so... congratulations. On all counts."

"You're boring her too, Liyar," Athlen smirked.

Liyar cast him a long face. "It is not boring," he insisted. "It will open up an entirely new way to experience music, both for psi-nulls and telepaths." It wasn't even a little bit indignant. Nope. Not at all.

"I didn't say I was bored," Lilou protested. Was she speaking in tongues today? "The only music I've heard of that involves telepathy are instruments that are controlled telepathically, but... those are audible to non-psionics, so... I had to assume that wasn't what you were-" She shook her head. "I know I'm smart, I have tests to prove it, but sometimes, talking to you, Liyar, I feel like I'm still in elementary training."

Liyar tilted his head curiously. "The music I refer to are telepathic compositions. They typically require a telepathic component to one's mind in order to fully perceive. With the updated algorithms, I have found a way to transpose this experience to a mind that is not typically geared toward it." His eyes tracked slightly back and forth as he spoke, a usual sign that he was lost in his own internal world. Absently, he added, "They tend to think I am smart. Yes. When I am not insane, or insufferable." He looked up from his meal, as if just realizing they were in a conversation.

Who was 'they'? She'd never known Liyar to be insane or insufferable. A little confounding, yes, but then most Vulcans were confounding in a way. Lilou had spent her entire life becoming very good at one thing; it seemed to her as though Liyar had spent his being excellent at several. Then she thought, How strange is it that he and Stone and Kiri can't seem to see their own gifts. Insane, insufferable, awkward, monster... These self-imposed titles are awful. "I never even knew such things existed. That's... and you've found a way to make that..." She quirked her brows, impressed, "Fascinating. I imagine it has a lot to do with the electric signals of the brain, is that it? But then, does it come across as a translation of the original electric impulse through sonic vibrations, or is it a true transposition?"

Liyar shook his head. "It involved a direct transposition," he said, eyes tracking as he recalled the algorithms he'd been using. "From the temporal lobe of the Terran brain. It was a proper control model as the temporal lobe resembles many other psi-null species. For instance, I am certain you could also benefit from the device. MED13L mediator complex subunit 13-like 7.77748 0.210969 -36.86551105 7.40E-010 ENSG00000123066," he rattled off, "Most specifically and importantly APOE 1.56E-010, KIF5A 2.22E-016, PDZD4 9.39E-005, SPTBN1, 8.47E-007," he rattled off the numbers again, eyes tracking.

Athlen's eyes were their usual wideness as Liyar devolved into his mathematics. "They are genetic sequencing codes for transmitters within the temporal lobe and amygdala. I have been able to modify and transpose these algorithms with similar neuropeptides located in the mesiofrontal cortex of the Vulcan and Betazoid brains. After a series of tests involving brain scans from two individuals, as well as from myself and Crewman Athlen, I have been able to cross-over the experience between us," Liyar said, settling his PADD onto the table. He spoke in the slightly stilted, absent, far away type of voice he usually used when he was tracking, when he was lost in his own internal world. (Insane, insane as he'd ever been. Even with the Tarinol. On Vulcan, at least, he is insane. But he does work. Good work. Solves their problems. Writes languages in the sky. Turns the world into a number.) "The Golden Ratio, do you know it?" the Vulcan asked in that faraway voice. "It is universal. That is what allowed the possibility of transposition. I was able to engineer an algorithm utilizing both of these components to transfer auditory waves between both the mesiofrontal cortex, the parietal lobe and the temporal lobe as well as the amygdala." Liyar was speaking into his soup.

Athlen rested a hand on Liyar's arm. "Hey," he said, leaning forward. Liyar looked up and blinked, nodding.

"My apologies. I would give you one of the transceivers to listen, Ensign Peers, but I gave the last one to Lieutenant Panne. She enjoyed it and I am easily able to build another." He went back to his soup, the numbers behind his eyes blending and blurring even as the Tarinol worked through his system, sluggishly, slowly and surely turning him from insane to normal, but he knew, those numbers were slipping his grasp. He was going to lose them for another few hours yet. He begrudgingly took another bite of soup.

"No, that's... I mean, I'd love to try it some time, but I don't..." She bit her lip. "Telepathic music," she commented with a small shake of her head. "Will wonders never cease." Picking up an apple slice, she nibbled an edge. The math didn't disturb her in the slightest, although a little context for the numbers might have helped her to follow along. Neither did his talking without looking at her; that was actually... pleasant. Less pressure. She could listen and think without having to think about how she looked when she was thinking and what she might possibly be giving away with her expressions. It was part of the reason, she imagined, why talking to Kiri was easier; they didn't stare at each other. Lilou wasn't good with facial expressions generally. She recognized basic elements like anger or fear or... smiling. But sometimes what she thought a face meant actually meant the opposite, or something in between, and the whole thing was a mess. Like putting names on feelings and calling strangers friends. Disorganized. But she noticed how Athlen seemed to bring Liyar out of... something. She had no idea what it was. Nor why he'd needed to be brought out of it. And it wasn't really any of her business, was it? "Only... the Terran music you were listening to before... that doesn't have a telepathic element to it. Or... does it? Accidentally?"

"It does not," Liyar agreed. "And as a result, to my perception, it sounds very off. I had noticed this discrepancy and part of my motivation for creating the transceiver was because I wished to hear it properly. Creating a component to music that a psi-capable individual can enjoy without losing something in the process was the difficult part. However, Lieutenant Panne appeared to enjoy the piece I played once I wore my own transceiver with the reversed algorithms," he recalled with a small nod.

"They call him a prodigy, on Vulcan," Athlen filled in the blanks. "Riyeht-kashik abru'klon su'us-ek'tal. Mathematical savant. Though, the word in Vulcan has more insane connotations. Most of them live in meditation cells."

Liyar blinked. "I am smart," he repeated. "When I am not insane." He tilted his head, a mild amusement alight in his eyes, although its irony was unmistakable. The rest of him was stone blank.

"Here, here," Lilou said, with feeling; although her personal brand of 'insanity' was far less useful than what they seemed to think was representative of Liyar's, she could at least register the sentiment. I lose it and become a puddle of shaking and tears on the floor. A Vulcan loses it and become even more brilliant than they were before. Spirits know, it couldn't possibly do anything else to them. That's genetics for you, she grumbled to herself. "But no meditation cell for you," she said, glancing at him. "I think that's a good thing. For us, anyway." She pushed the rest of the apple slice into her mouth and looked down at her plate to chew.

A Vulcan is insane, and they are trapped, Liyar answered the question in his thoughts, but he could not vocalize it aloud. He was so caught up in his own musings, he didn't realize he'd accidentally sent the thoughts directly. Trapped in a cage. Only, that cage wasn't a meditation cell. And Liyar knew enough of gratitude to be thankful for that. Niurek had spent time in those cells. Cold, dead, unfeeling. "No," he agreed. "No meditation cell."

"So, what is that?" Athlen asked, attempting to change the subject. Liyar was getting the faraway look in his eyes again, staring at his plate.

Lilou blinked hard. First, because she was shocked to have a voice in her head other than her own. And second, because of the words. She'd never heard Liyar really use inflection, but in her head there was a quality to his voice. It sounded like someone else, almost, and part of that was the feeling behind it. Trapped. She had to breathe deep and long to keep the power of the word from making her feel that way herself. "What?" she asked, distracted by the sudden mental onslaught.

Liyar immediately backed away from the table, inhaling calmly. "Forgive me. That was not my intention. I should not have done that." His eyes were moving back and forth rapidly. He stood up and stalked toward the replicator. Escape, his mind said. He'd entered the mind of another. Given them his thoughts. This medication, it was ruining him. It was taking away his calm, frazzling his psionic centers. He took a steadying breath, still emotionally as blank as ever. To any passerby it looked only as if he were getting something to eat, perfectly reasonable, perfectly logical. He stayed with his back turned to them for some time. Liyar took a deep breath and gripped his tray. He passed by Lilou and blinked down at her. "Once again, it was not my intention. My apologies." He turned to leave, certain that it had been offensive to her.

"What?" she asked again, dragging her gaze up. "For what?" She was still a little dazed by the sheer force that was hiding behind his lake-still expression. "No, it's- nice." The word wasn't exactly what she'd intended, but to be fair she felt like she'd just had someone squeezing her brain.

"It was unethical," Liyar said quietly. "One should not enter the mind of another in that way. Are you harmed?" he asked, a stark contrast between the person inside his mind, beneath his exterior, and the placidity of his features as he stared down at her benignly.

"Not at this moment, no. Kind of..." She blinked again. "Shocked-ish." And her chest hurt, right in the center, but she thought that had more to do with the horrors of empathy than anything else. "You're better than me," she said a moment later, trying to organize her thoughts. "At keeping all that... I overflow. You're better. I thought that when I first met you," she added in a whisper. "I thought - I wish I could be like that. That calm. That still. And you are. And you aren't. And knowing both, it's better. I have hope," she added, a little wobbly, and looked down at her plate.

"It is the Vulcan way," Liyar replied enigmatically. To be calm. And yet, not. To conceal the rage amidst a meditation, to submerge the feelings, sensations, passions. Unfortunately his own a'rie'mnu was not as adept as the Shi'kahri Vulcans he'd seen. Niram had a particularly notorious reputation for lacking in such ability, with Liyar, impatient and quixotic as he was, no exception. "I hope that I have not unduly disturbed you," he offered. Athlen watched all this with curiosity in his eyes, deciding to say nothing for the moment, focusing on his brownie instead.

"I'm disturbed unduly on a regular basis all on my own," she murmured, then glanced up at him, "Do you want to finish your soup sitting down?"

Liyar gingerly, hesitantly nodded and sat back down at the table. "A regular basis?" he asked, folding his hands in front of him.

Lilou ducked her head. Had she actually said that? Something about the intimacy of the mental contact must have knocked her sense loose. "Fairly," she hedged, and ate another bite of grakizh. She didn't want to go into it. Maybe it was talking to Carisle. Maybe that was bringing all those thoughts to the foreground. Or the willingness to push past it. The counselor had said she would need to speak about what had happened to overcome her fear of the memory. But not now. Now was too soon. Far, far too soon. The idea of explaining her slip actually made her a little sick to her stomach. "Can I ask- is it inappropriate- how? There has to be a method, doesn't there? A... mental image? A meditation? Some kind of training to learn to push it down and back?"

Liyar nodded. "For Vulcans, this is so. It is normal and healthy. For more emotional species on the otherhand, I am told that employing such techniques is damaging. There are, however, meditations that can assist you in achieving a more relaxed state of mind," he answered, ignoring his soup entirely.

Lilou folded her hands together on the edge of the table. He hadn't felt so different, in that brief slip of a moment, from the way she felt. Raw and pulsing with something akin to fervor. Were Vulcans really less emotional? Or were they just trained from an early age how to control and/or hide those emotions, selecting past them? The latter seemed more likely to Lilou now. And she wanted that training. How could anything possibly be more damaging to her than this open wound of emotion she'd carried around with her since the attack? Although... a more relaxed state? she wondered. I don't need relaxed. I need controlled. I need bound and buried, never to be heard from again. But anything, anything would be better than this... awful fear all the time. Wouldn't it? Wouldn't it have to be? "Where would I go to learn them?" Maybe there were simulation training programs in the LCARS, or on the holodeck.

Liyar shook his head. Once again, the cuffs were failing in reigning in his mental presence. Surface thoughts, emotions, awash along with the crowd around them, slowly dissipating as lunch hour ended. He answered with the knowledge unconsciously within him. "Vulcan neurology is much different from the neurology of other species. What you experienced from me was only a fraction of the emotion that I must endure and control on a daily basis. Were I to fail in meditation, I would be no better than a savage. This is why control is paramount for Vulcans," he explained. "As you are not a Vulcan, Vulcan mental applications would more than likely damage you, as you are not meant to suppress your emotions in this way. Vulcans handle our emotions by intensive contemplative meditation. It is akin to your psychotherapy, but it is personal to each Vulcan. Private. We go deeply into the root cause of our issues and we work through them by way of contemplative analysis. There can be no escape, either way, from the things that haunt you." It was, in fact, the very reason he'd had such difficulty with meditation over the past few weeks. "The calm and collected state that you see most Vulcans in, that state is genuine. They have processed their emotions and rationalized them, understood their experiences, and then eliminated the emotional response associated with this experience." As for myself, he didn't add, because it was just too-personal. Too-much. My meditations have not gone nearly so well. Not since... he looked up from his soup and then stood once again. "I regret that you experience pain in such a way that you wish it to be buried and forgotten. It is a singularly unpleasant experience. For both of our species." He met her eyes as he said that, offered her a nod and then walked away. It was too-much. He'd gotten too close. Too close.

Athlen watched as his friend walked away and sighed sadly. He was reminded of the book he'd given Liyar, by Adrive of Rigel V. Not, how are you? but Have you lived?. It resonated in his head for a moment. Live well, until the thunderous echo of your voice breaks any silence, until there is no doubt, no option, but Life. He offered Lilou a rueful smile. "I'm sorry about that. Sometimes he can be a little..." he waved a hand. "You get used to it, though. And it's been a learning experience," he said, smile drawing into a slight concern over Lilou. "Are you all right?"

"A learning experience?" she queried, watching him go. He'd read her mind. He'd read her mind twice. In a row. Twice. How much had he seen? The surface? The whole of it? Why? She frowned slightly. And why wasn't she panicking? She should have been. She was pretty sure the obvious response to having her mental privacy violated would have been panic. Or anger. Or something other than this strange... relief. She bit her lip, coming back, "Sorry?"

Athlen blinked a bit, organizing what had just happened. "He picked up something from you, didn't he? I mean, somehow. You didn't mention any of that. That happens, too. The psi-monitors, those things on his wrists, are supposed to help with it. He doesn't ever do it intentionally. The Shi'kahr Convention actually explicitly forbids it. They call it kae'at k'lasa - mind rape. But in Liyar's case, he mostly can't help it, and chances are they were surface thoughts, I don't think he has the ability to dig out people's secrets unintentionally. So you were probably projecting. But, yeah, a learning experience, I guess. He doesn't think like other Vulcans. He doesn't think like anyone, really. He's a psi-native as well, so Federation Standard and he do not get along so well. When he first got on board I had to practically be his interpreter," Athlen grinned. "The Shi'kahr Convention prevents him from just going in and reading people's meanings, from getting all their secrets, from doing mind melds, stuff like that. He'd never do it on purpose," Athlen repeated. He knew his friend wasn't a monster, didn't want Lilou to get the wrong impression. That wouldn't be good. And then Stone might get involved, a guy who understood psionic nothing... "Are you all right, though? I mean, I know that telepathic contact can be very upsetting to people," Athlen said, looking at her and meeting her eyes with his usual brand of warmth and sincerity.

"I'm..." She squinted at him. "I don't- I mean I'm not-" She squinted a little more. What was a singularly unpleasant experience for both their species? Pain? Wasn't it unpleasant for everyone? "If I could determine peoples meanings versus what they said, I would do it all the time," she said. She hadn't been done with him. She'd had questions. He'd been in her head and she had questions and he'd just... gone. "Psi-native?"

"I'm not really too familiar with it," Athlen admitted. "It means a person who's native language has telepathic elements, who's culture has overreaching telepathic components. Like Vulcans are psionic, but it isn't a day to day thing, except for their understanding of the Greater Consciousness, as they call it," Athlen said, looking at Lilou with concern. "But for people like Liyar and his community where he is from, telepathy is more a day to day type of thing, it's in their language, they communicate that way with ease. People like Betazoids, and Cairn, are also psi-native," Athlen explained. "And - I'm sorry, again. I doubt he meant it. And sometimes he gets," he shrugged. He didn't want to violate Liyar's privacy. "Unsettled, lost, I guess is the best word, and that's what you - see there," he gestured at Liyar's retreating form, weaving through the crowd of people as he'd left and then disappearing completely through the doors. "I don't think he's unsettled by you. You should go after him," Athlen encouraged. "Before he ends up holed in his office for hours. I doubt he even realized he was doing it, and he probably feels bad. Well, for a Vulcan. He can probably explain it all better than me, too."

"There's no- well, you don't have to- He can't be holed up in his office for hours," she said, still wrinkle-faced. "We have a staff meeting in half an hour-" she checked her PADD, "fifteen minutes." She stood up and looked at Athlen for a long moment, her arms shifting uselessly at her side as though she were trying to decide whether to salute or shake hands or hug or do the chicken dance. Instead, she grabbed her tray, nodded sharply, and took off.

She caught up to Liyar just outside the mess hall and cleared her throat, falling into step with him. "We have a meeting, sir," she said. Then, "I'd say I'm sorry, but I don't- If I was... projecting, or... I don't normally, I mean- I haven't- I asked if it was okay to- You could have just said you didn't want to talk about it." He was her superior officer, though he didn't act that way. She didn't really know how he acted, to be honest. She couldn't get a read on him. That might have been part of why she enjoyed being around him so much. He didn't seem to care very much for who she was in the totem pole or really in any regard except when she said something that interested him, which was at least honest of him. And less pressure, far less pressure, than she felt from most. But even all of that didn't explain why she'd felt that odd relief when he'd touched her mind, spoken directly into it, and then moments later answered her thoughts as though she'd vocalized them. That had been... lovely. Which was so entirely strange in itself, but she'd liked it. The feel of another mind pressed against hers was like warm tea and baked apples. Like home.

Liyar stopped just in front of the turbolift, the hallway behind them empty. He stepped into the lift and gestured for her to do the same, looking contemplative as he examined her words and the feelings he could perceive from her. Strong as they were, with the Tarinol in his system, he could only nod slightly. "A meeting," he nodded. "Yes." As though she hadn't said anything about the psionics at all, though he was percolating that in his mind as well. The turbo stopped and deposited them onto the support deck. Emptier even than before as everyone no doubt prepared for their meetings. He stood against the wall outside the turbo. It was more private, maybe that was what he'd been waiting for before speaking of anything else. "I must assume that my response to you was a result of unintentionally reading your surface thoughts," he finally remarked on it. "I did not realize that you had not spoken aloud. Once again, I offer my apologies," the Vulcan said. "It was not my intention to leave as abruptly as I did. The discussion of pain," he said, with a slight shake of his head he didn't realize he was making, "It is a complicated one. I am led to understand that it is a highly relevant concern for you," he said instead. "You did not find my mental presence intrusive?" he asked, because he could feel it from her, that sense of strangepeace, an odd reaction from most. Most reacted very poorly.

"It was fine," she said, because to say that it had been more than fine- Lovely. Welcoming, even in its strangeness and newness and forcefulness. Like the smell of warm bread and the taste of real, fresh fruit and the sight of a perfect matter/anti-matter ratio. To say that would be... weird. Because it was weird. It had to be. It made no logical sense. She'd always been a private person, even as a child. Even before she'd been... even before she'd changed. When she'd been relatively 'normal'. She'd been private. Mostly because she'd grown up alone and alone made sense to her. Even Kestra, who's life revolved around empathy and telepathy, had never just driven her psionic fingers into Lilou's brain. Would it have been like this? she wondered. If she'd let Kestra touch her mind, would it have felt like this? Like home? Like dopamine drenching her gray matter?

Liyar tilted his head. Curious, indeed. He kept his eyes on her, as though in an attempt to figure out the situation, parse it, separate the strands. The numbers. But they were slow. Tarinol inhibited that. They spun around slowly, and he tried to capture them, turn them into Meaning. "Then it is gratifying to know I have not harmed you," he settled on finally. For he'd breached the general code of Vulcans, the laws that they lived by, even if he was wearing the cuffs, even if he was doing his best. It was still jarring, to realize that he was still unintentionally gleaning information from others in this way. But at least in this, it had not been met with anger.

"No, sir. Not harmed." She wanted more. That was horrifying. Wasn't it? It had to be. She didn't want him to know her secrets, fiddle around in her head, see things that shouldn't be seen. But she wanted that feeling again. That warm, nesting, good, right feeling. She blinked, dropping her gaze. "I- ah... I should probably..." she pointed away from him. What deck were they on anyway?

"This way," Liyar said, pointing back through to the turbolift. "Deck two," he said as the turbolift closed. Meeting in fifteen minutes. Just enough time for a re-dose of Lexorin. He stepped off when the doors open and turned, bowing his head to the small half-Trill in the lift. "Good day, Ensign Peers." The turbolift doors closed again, leading her to whichever destination she had chosen.

"Y-yes, sir," she said, but the doors had already parted them. Sagging against the wall of the turbo lift, she blinked hard a couple times. Very. Very. Strange.

OFF:

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

ENS Lilou Peers
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Galileo

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