Rest and Recuperate

Posted on Fri Mar 20th, 2020 @ 12:24am by Commander Rita Paris & Lieutenant Commander Sonak
Edited on on Fri Mar 20th, 2020 @ 3:59pm

Mission: Dedjoy System Mystery
Location: USS Hera, About the ship
Timeline: 2397

Departing sickbay, they walked together, moving in stride as so many career military personnel tended to do. Rita Paris maintained a martial stride most of the time, as a matter of efficiency on a large starship. Sonak, at ease maintaining nearly any pace, simply fell in step with her. After all, they had years ago arrived at the conclusion that she would set the pace and make the calls, and where she led, he would support and follow.

Even to another time and dimension. The man was ever as good as his word.

Today had been an eventful day. A planetoid with a Neutronium core had developed new life, that communicated at a vibrational frequency which was overwhelming for psi sensitive individuals, such as the master telepath from Vulcan. When he had sensed the problem, he had bulwarked his defenses and retreated to within his own mind, to prevent the cacophony of the crystalline hive-mind from overwhelming his own. Additionally, sealing himself off had enabled him to protect his human bride, whom in and of herself possessed no psionic capacity. But the bond they shared, that of t'hy'la, would have overwhelmed her and shattered her mind had he shared that maddening din with her. So he had placed his life in her hands, once more, by entering a Vulcan healing trance to recover from the initial damage, and to protect them both.

True to form, Rita had managed to get them back out of trouble, and the Hera had managed to communicate with the nascent life form, the Sia. Once safely back on the Hera, she had awakened him from his healing trance in the traditional method- by assaulting the body to stimulate adrenaline production, which indicated that the sleeper must awaken. This she had done, and awaken he had. But she had noticed his grip was not as firm, and his actions more deliberate. She sensed something was wrong, but he had reported nothing to the Sickbay personnel.

However, as they covered the ground to their quarters, internally, she fretted, and she reached out to him.

Husband? Are you unwell? I am concerned, she asked, phrasing her questions to communicate in a logical fashion.

I sense your concern beyond mere kindness, my wife. it is as appreciated, as are the efforts you made, at the risk of your own life, to ensure my safe return. But do not be alarmed. This ordeal simply awakened even further my psionic sensitivity. I must recenter my control over it. At this very moment, I must exert my will for our telepathic communication to not spill out other minds passing us by, or have their thoughts passed on to us.

As they turned into a deserted corner, he extended two fingers to her, to which she responded in kind, as she always would. An ancient Vulcan custom, it enabled the ease of direct telepathy, while having the additional sensation of deep and passionate kissing.

In truth, this was the worst of the ordeal I experienced when touched by the crystalline hivemind; their contact had, for a moment, restored all of of my former faculties; but in such a crude and brutal fashion that it would have erased my lifetime of discipline needed to control them. They have abated now; but if I do not check them properly, my psionic strength may harm someone, possibly you first and foremost because of our bond... and some shared past experiences. I will never permit this.

There was no one and nothing in this universe that was comparable to his wife. More that that; there was nothing that mattered more to him than her well being, insuring her peace, prosperity and long life. The mere idea that he could hurt her unintentionally was unacceptable. Thus he would dedicate all his efforts and discipline to ensure it would never be so. Ever.

It was no emotional response to duress. it was a logical assumption, from the fact that the brief contact with the hivemind had also restored a very, very dangerous memory; and with it the remnants of a connection that had to be severed again at all costs, if it proved to be real and not just a memory.

Because for a moment, the briefest of moments before he entered into his healing trance to shut off his mind, he had thought himself back on the most dangerous world in all the galaxy.

Talos IV.

Oh my stars... she replied as he led her through the experience, buffering it for her so that she would not experience the full brunt of what he himself had encountered. While resilient and deft, her mind was unprepared for such a contact. The last time her mind had contacted such a power, through him, it had nearly killed her. An aneurysm blossoming in her all-too-human brain, which could not contain nor comprehend the power it had encountered. That.... is VERY not good. So he is aware of you... are they multidimensional entities, or is this another Talosian who has taken advantage of the opportunity to connect with a mind such as your own?

That is the problem with the Talosians' power; it is impossible to tell if this is just a memory stimulated by the hive's contact, or an actual connection to the Talosians of this reality... and if so, a real one or one of their illusions. Thus the need to be cautious.

How may I assist you in this, he who is my husband? As our fates are intertwined, your challenges are mine to face alongside you. As we come to serve, how may I be of use in this endeavor? While she phrased it logically, perhaps even reminiscent of how he himself might approach the issue, it was a simple truth. It was in her nature to help, and there was no one save him with whom she was willing to face a danger as potentially significant as this one.

General Order 7 was no joke.

"No Starfleet vessel shall visit the planet Talos IV under any circumstances, emergency or otherwise. This order supersedes General Order 6- The request for emergency assistance from Federation citizenry or non-aligned persons demands unconditional priority from Starfleet personnel. Such personnel shall immediately respond to said request, postponing all other activities. This responsibility extends to current governments at odds, actively or passively, with the Federation.

Any transgression of this general order shall be punishable by death.".

Sonak stopped and stared straight into her bright blue inquisitive eyes. In a most uncharacteristic gesture, he took her cool hand in his own.

''Be here; be real.''

Bringing his hand to her cheek and holding it there, she replied in kind. "I swore to have and to hold, til death do us part. I will be here for you. I will be as real as I know how, and I will be my usual somewhat consistent self," she joked. Humor was not lost on the Kolinahr, nor was the capacity of humanity to employ it to diffuse tension. I know the Talosian illusions are powerful. But there is only one of me whom you can feel as you do, who feels you as I do. That bit of my katra in your own will always tell you if it's really me. Whatever else I can do to support you as you surmount this challenge, I will do so gladly.

I would not surrender you to the Talosians on our first mission together, and I most certainly will not surrender you now. Regardless of consequence or cost, she vowed, hoping he could feel the sincerity of her words. She had faced court martial and execution for rescuing him from Talos IV once, decades ago, in another reality. She would do the same tomorrow, without hesitation.

He nodded, impassive yet strangely vibrant.

''I did not have the protection of our mating bond before. If this is more than a mere remembrance revived by this encounter, I will be ready as I never was before; because of you, Thy'la.''

“Assuming that’s because we are far stronger together than apart, or is it because strong emotions are an anathema to the Talosians?” Rita asked.

''Both,'' he answered stoically.

A swell of pride at her husband’s words mingled with the strong protective streak she felt toward all of the people in her life. Though none as strongly as Sonak, of course. Mixed in was dopey love, as when he spoke to her thus it always melted her heart, mingled with some mild apprehension that Sonak was going to have to teach this reality’s Talosians not to mess with the Kolinahr. All of which was overlaid with relief at their mission having ended successfully, with Sonak returning to her whole and hearty once more, mingling with the anticipation of them having some time alone just to themselves.

If there was nothing that could be said about the human bride of the master of Gol, she was indeed deeply and passionately emotional to a fault, although that did not preclude her use of logic- the common ground that enabled them to function as a couple.

As they reached the storage unit to dispose of his EVA suit, he turned once more towards her, his face as stoic as ever.

''At this point, there is insufficient evidence to form even a hypothesis. The oneelement of which I can be certain, is that this experience strained my psionic perceptions. Rest, as prescribed by the doctor, is logical. Knowing you are safe, sound and nearby will greatly alleviate any distracting thoughts, enabling my full return to peak performance.''

Backing him into the harness, she insured the connections to the rack were secure before he 'cracked' the hardshell of the chestplate, which hinged at the shoulders and opened, the rack rising to remove it from his body. The system then extended a bench for him, so he could sit to remove the boots and leg hardpoints, as well as the shoulder and armguards of the lightweight yet quite durable Extra Vehicular Atmosphere suit. Kneeling down before him, Rita grasped the left boot and began to expertly assist his foot's escape from the pale blue armored confines. She had logged countless hours in the armored exploration suits, and had become quite adept with their removal.

"I like that they painted the hardpoints of the spacesuits. They were all the black of the hull, that light-absorbing stealth plating the first time I tried one of these suits on, and all I could think of was, 'We look like a pack of assassins'. That, combined with the heavy weaponry these things can carry... I painted mine gold, and apparently it caught on. At least now we look like Starfleet."

Looking up at him as she got his boot off and set it aside, she cocked her head slightly and grinned. "They sure are an improvement over our day."

''Basically, they never changed since the early days of space exploration,'' he reminded her. ''The advances in technology simply made them more efficient. There were even experiments with portable environmental shields in our days, if you recall. Seems the feel of some physical material between one and outer space is a psychological need as much as the breath converter themselves.''

Out of the suit and only dressed in the black coverall worn under the suit, he went to the replicator to get his uniform.

"I could certainly see that," she admitted. The earth girl who'd reached for the stars had always borne a fascination with the exterior of the starship, from her time as a warp ghost when she would sit atop the bridge and watch the stars slide by. Back in their own timeline, she had bonded with the Exeter by running on her hull while she was at spacedock at Lexington station under quarantine. Even today, she took runs every few days with Dox, running on the hulls of classic starships. Thus the concept of a helmet between one and the void of space was not one she found worrisome, somehow.

"I must admit, of the modern versions, I like that they are more durable and functional. I worry a lot less about a micrometeorite in one of these, to be certain. Have to say, the tricorder built into the helmet HUD really was quite the improvement. Remember trying to work a tricorder with those gloves on?" she laughed, shaking her head at the memory.

As he changed into his uniform, he expounded on his concept.

''Indeed. That the logic of why it took so long to make that technological leap is an interesting mystery. As you have possibly logged more hours in a spacesuit than anyone in Starfleet, you might be the ideal person to write a report on possible improvements.''

“You raise a valid point, Mr. Sonak. I suppose I should review the systems… although truth be told, I haven’t seen much room for improvement.” Watching the athletic kolinahr strip out of the pressure suit body glove and dress in his uniform was nothing new to the Earth girl, but she appreciated the sight nonetheless. Over the years she most definitely had not grown jaded nor weary to the lean athletic build of her mate. The sight still stirred her, which brought a smile to her face as she assisted, carrying the pressure suit to the reclamator to be recycled as he sped through getting dressed. A career in Starfleet had left them both to be methodical and speedy dressers, in particular when it came to donning their uniforms.

While many things had changed, Rita was also grateful that the uniforms had come more in line with their own era. When she had arrived, duty jackets had been added that were black and charcoal, and only the undershirt had been of the departmental colors of teal, red or gold. Not long after Sonak’s arrival, the new uniforms had been rolled out, which were a callback to their day, with the solid color tunics in departmental colors. To her eye, much like the space suits, it made Starfleet seem far less sinister and more welcoming and visible, and as her handsome husband pulled his uniform top on then zipped it up to the collar, she smiled, appreciating that despite how much the universe had changed, she and he still seemed to be constants. At least to some degree, in the ways that counted.

Clad in blue, it made him appear once more as the dashing first officer with whom she had risked it all for, and with whom she had fallen madly, deeply in love. She herself still wore the same uniform from those days, with a bit more rank on the sleeve and some pips added to the collar. Somehow she could not abide the modern crimson uniform, and the Captain obliged her. The universe had changed, and they adapted… but they were still who they were, and she was glad to see the consistency.

“So,” she asked as they stepped out of the hardsuit storage and back into the corridor, “Would you like some dinner, or would you prefer to rest first? We’re off duty for another 23 hours and change, so we’ve time. Well, I am, I think the doctor prescribed you 48…”

''Disobeying a medical order will put someone into trouble; possibly the ship herself if such neglect brings about errors in judgment or failed action,'' he stated flatly. ''That being said, a quiet dinner with one's mate is part of what is defined as rest, according to the standards of Starfleet duty. Therefore, I shall avail myself of this opportunity.''

Truth be told, Sonak was not hungry. As a Vulcan, he could go several weeks without food if need be; even more so if he entered a trance. But he knew he could not go anywhere that long without the woman of Earth ,with whom he had chosen to explore the wonders of existence.

And such a wonder that it has been so far; that she had been, always was... and always would be.

With a nod of his head, he invited her to lead the way.