Lt Alex Storm - Raw Emotions

[Karen Morris]

((OOC: The thoughts and actions in this sim are a reflection of Alex alone.  Karen is just fine. :-) ))

(( Elysium - Deck 5, USS Artemis-A ))

Conversations about bits and baubles were innocuous enough, but given the woman’s occupation, the discussion had to turn toward Starflirt’s services and whether or not Alex was interested - not in just the concept of Starflirt - but in the actual program.  

Virtavi-Yaros: I would not presume, Lieutenant, to suppose how familiar you may be with the customs of Kantare, but I do assure you - no treasured heirlooms of the Virtavi dynasty met with an improper fate in the rather unceremonious venting of my quarters. All such articles of true value remain quite secure within our Legacy Vault on Kantare itself. ::adjusts hair slightly:: Now that I have acquainted you with the purpose Starflirt serves aboard this vessel - and indeed, within the Fleet at large - I do hope you might be persuaded to give it fair consideration.

Alex knew that it was coming.  On one hand, she couldn’t blame Nadevia.  This was what her job entailed.  She was a salesperson filling a need that some people had.  She may not want to use the service, but that didn’t negate the fact that there was a service being offered.  Rarely did she encounter a situation where she would willingly tell someone she was married, especially since she was only ‘technically’ married, but for this one moment, it served her needs.

Storm:  While I am sure that some people would find this concept of needed connection helpful.  I should to tell you that I’m married and don’t currently find myself in need of your services.

Virtavi-Yaros: How truly delightful to hear - and I must say, something of a rarity amongst your fellow officers. Do forgive me, should my enthusiasm in speaking of our service have caused you the slightest discomfort; it was never my intention to do so.

Alex stared at her ever-emptying glass, and took another sip anyway.  She needed a beat to gather her thoughts.  The synth wine provided her with that moment.  Savoring the liquid before swallowing it, she lighted upon a great segue into a tangentially related though thoroughly different topic.

Storm: But being new on the ship, as you earlier surmised, I am open to making acquaintances, eventually even to making good friends.  Everyone needs those - real connections - don’t you think?

Virtavi-Yaros: Indeed, I do. Far too often, I witness Officers - many of whom I have come to regard with real affection during my time aboard the Artemis - choose to close their hearts to connection, driven by a fear that such bonds may falter or be cruelly severed by the hand of misfortune. And yet, I would venture to suggest that while this may shield them from sorrow, it likewise dims the richness - the very colour and value - of their daily existence. To my mind, that is a sadness all its own, and the far more grievous one.

Despite the fact that Alex maintained her placid exterior, inwardly, she panicked.  Did Navedia know?    The Kantare couldn’t have read her file because she didn’t even know her name.  If anyone aboard knew about the cruelty of a severed connection - perhaps not by the hand of misfortune, but by her own, it was Alex.  Were the Kantare telepathic?  Telepathic in such a way that they could read minds that had been closed?  How could this woman sitting across from her know what she felt slogging through life, how either she or Kona had punctured the fabric of their existence, and every day more joy and happiness and satisfaction drained out through that one pin-prick.  

It was like when she had washed her dirty hands in the sink after using her pottery wheel.  She used to get such joy from taking time to mold things from scratch, to build something up from nothing with her own hands.  But after she finished making an item, she washed her hands. When she did, only the residue of her former happiness was left in the sink basin, and every day when the water was turned on again, more of that joy slipped down the drain.

But maybe Navedia didn’t know - about Alex, about her life.  Maybe she had just seen something in others and spoke of it in a general sense.   Alex opened her senses.  She never probed, but like a wave of the ocean, she let the other woman’s emotions wash over her.  Whatever was left as the wave rolled back into the ocean from which it came, Alex dissected.  She couldn’t sense any familiarity with herself.  She couldn’t sense words spoken to make a specific point to Alex.  She simply seemed to be speaking from general observations that she made over her time selling connections - if such a thing could truly be sold.  

She had taken a long enough time before responding, which Navedia would interpret as she wished, but the Betazoid steeled herself as she got ready to speak again.  Her emotions still felt raw - nearly as raw as the day that she discovered her husband and child were missing.  She had expected that the severity of her feelings would - not go away - but dull over time.  Unfortunately, she hadn’t experienced that sensation yet - at least not in a significant way.  So nodding her head merely as if she had been considering Navedia’s words in a clinical sense, she said …

Storm: It would truly be tragic if someone shielded themselves from both sorrow and its antidote - joy - at the same time.

Virtavi-Yaros: I never learned the name of the philosopher who uttered these words, I confess, but it is something I once heard during my time at Starfleet Academy on Earth: ‘Don't miss out on something that could be great, just because it could also be difficult.’ Despite the simplicity of its construction, as is commonplace for Earth sayings, it struck me then, and strikes me still. I daresay it is a reflection from which we might all take some comfort - and perhaps, some courage - particularly in these uncertain days.

Alex had no words to say in response.  She was afraid that if she continued to sit there that her whole history would be revealed.  She had left one ship with the hope of coming to another ship for a clean start.  She couldn’t stay at the table.  She needed an excuse to leave.  As quickly as she searched for an answer, she realized that it was, literally, in her hand.  

Storm: You’ll forgive me.  It was nice to make your acquaintance, but I’m going to go refill my glass.  Perhaps we can pick this conversation up another time.  

Her voice was filled with genuine kindness despite her desire not to pick the conversation up ever again.  She stood to her feet with her empty glass in hand and without a backward glance, Alex headed to the bar to get it refilled.

Virtavi-Yaros: Reply

~*~
Tags / End Scene for Storm
~*~

Lt Alex Storm
Tactical Officer
USS Artemis
O240103SK2