Deep In Dreams
Posted on Fri Mar 8th, 2019 @ 12:41pm by Commander Rita Paris
Location: USS Hera, Deck 8, Commander Paris and Mr. Sonak's Quarters
The dreamscape was a shifting reality, a pastiche of images and memories, of imagination and experiences blending together in the subconscious mind to create an odd wonderland in which the mind could unwind, process, and fantasize.
In the case of Rita Paris, the life she’d led brought forth some unique dreams indeed.
Sleeping beside her logical husband, their minds would touch, and while he could dream, the Master of Gol’s orderly mind understood it was dreaming. Thus he could, of course, control his dreams or direct them, the better to process whatever lurked in his subconscious. Which he shared with her as they slept, as he shared all of his logical self with his emotional spouse as much or as little as she desired. It was one of the things about him which she treasured, for her own mind was nowhere near as orderly or disciplined as that of the kolinahr, and the fact that he shared of himself was an enormous sacrifice on his part.
To him, there was no sacrifice- he loved her, and found her fascinating, thus he shared willingly of himself.
Tonight, as she lay in the bed they shared, she rolled over, breaking contact with the logical and orderly mind, leaving her to her own devices. Usually finding herself adrift, it was not long until she would reach out for him, to reassure herself on a subconscious level that he was still there, as well as the fact that she herself existed in three dimensions as matter. After all, it had been a problem for her more than once in her life. Being transformed into energy more than once had left an indelible mark upon her psyche, after all.
Which was unsurprising. The surprising part was the degree to which she was now stable and in control of herself. Few had experienced what she had in her lifetime, which now covered a span of closer to two centuries than her biological age. Not an impressive feat for many life forms in the galaxy, but for a plain old Human girl from Earth in the early days of the 23rd century, it was quite the accomplishment.
As her mind wandered, she heard her father’s voice… no clear distinct words, just the general impression of disapproval, of being lesser, of being insufficient. As words of praise had never come from her father, the only parental figure who had influenced her life, in her dreams he became just a fog of disdain and demoralization, of denouncement and desultory dismissiveness. The voice of her brother joined into the chorus, adding his own taunting and the casual cruelty so common to children.
Never did Rita Paris dream of her mother, revisiting the handful of memories that she had carried into adulthood of the woman who had died young and left her to fend for herself in the universe. While she managed to befriend women, and had no trouble relating, still on some level did she wish to find comfort from a maternal figure. Even the goddess of motherhood and women could not fulfil that role for her, recovering as she was from centuries of being an interstellar tyrant. As that thought drifted through her mind, she closed the door on that emotional outreach. As with other women she had sought such reassurance from over the decades, there was no emotional succor for her there, so she contained that need and packed it away, walling it off from the rest of her mind.
Instead it formed her resolve to someday be a good mother to children of her own. Not to repeat the mistakes of her father, to raise her children to feel good about themselves, to never feel alone, to have a foundation of love and support from which to launch themselves into the universe, and a family legacy of adventure. In her mind, she already had names, and she often wondered in dreams who they might be, the next generation of adventurers she would raise with her calm, logical and supportive spouse. Her children would have a balance in parenting, and while she would teach them discipline, they would never want for love.
In her dreams, she recalled the image in the news story the young android Kodria had showed her, of Enalia Telven terminating herself in 30 years’ time, and the warning that came with it. Should she slay her own mother in the tribunal that was coming, it would destroy her, making her into the monster with which she battled. This caused her no end of consternation, as she struggled with the dual nature of the pirate princess turned Starfleet captain. Having watched Mnhei’sahe Dox drawn into that world as well made her feel that she was losing ground, and in her dreams she concocted scenarios that ended poorly.
The responsibility of averting a future tragedy when the participants continued moving in directions she deemed negative weighed heavily upon her, and her limbs twitched as her mind played out dramas of what might be, in the world to come.
Eventually, she rolled back over, her soul disturbed and alone, seeking comfort in the touch of the one who never made her feel lesser, never made her feel insufficient, and celebrated their coming together as equals. As her jangled and chaotic dreamscape connected to the deep and solid order of the mind of Sonak of Vulcan, she calmed almost immediately, the dreams and voices and feelings in her head finding structure and order in his mind.
Drifting back into a deep and dreamless slumber, she sighed in contentment as she snuggled closer to the last kolinahr of a reality that never was, seeking the warmth of his higher body temperature.
Which was secondary to the relief and reassurance that she was no longer alone… and would never be alone again.