PNPC Provisional Crewman Vhysa'lia - Them's Fightin' Words
Lich
((Counselor’s Office - Deck 7, USS Artemis-A))
After an all-too-brief brief stint on Risa, Vhysa’lia was back in their office again, looking across at a new patient. Someone that she hadn’t had the chance to interact with before, but presented a new puzzle to try and solve. And what better way to begin that than with a story?
Vhysa’lia: Imril, if you would, I’d like to hear more about why you requested to see me today. I understand your recent mission was… stressful.
She sat, listening patiently as Imril told their tale. The tension in their voice was palpable as they described interactions with these Da’al, losing contact with the Artemis, and the planet turning on them. What stuck out to her was Imril’s clear pride at the work that they had done, alongside their crewmates, to free up the away team’s communications. That was good to hear - there had been payoff to the stress, and a bit of a release of tension.
Imril: And then, Evreste and his troops were pointing guns at the Captain. Calling us morons for breaking his toys. Demanding a reason not to kill us all for helping the Suliban to escape. I told myself diplomacy was done with. That the best thing to do, for everyone, was draw those weapons to myself. Give the ranking officers room to maneuver tactically, even if it cost me. But, looking back, I think that was just the excuse I gave myself so I could do what I wanted to do instead of what needed to be done.
They nodded, taking a moment to collect their thoughts before responding. It was a lot to react to.
Vhysa’lia: I see… You made yourself a target, why? What did you want to do that didn’t need to be done?
Imril: I wanted to hurt him.
That was a mildly concerning response to hear, to put it lightly. Something to note down after the session, perhaps?
Vhysa’lia: I fail to see how getting an entire crew of Da’al to point their weapons at you would hurt their leader. ::light chuckle and a smile:: So, your plan was to make yourself a target, and then… ::gesturing vaguely, as if they were trying to come up with the proper words:: challenge him to a duel?
The thought of Imril fighting a contingent of Da’al (which she knew very little about, but was beginning to gather a picture of in her head from description) was amusing, and she couldn’t help but make a little joke about it.
Imril: No, not physically. ::a wry chuckle:: I’d have lost that fight, anyway, I’m sure. ::Shaking their head:: No, I wanted to humiliate him. He put me, and my crewmates, in a box. Locked away from the ship, from the other away teams, from any support in a dangerous place but him and his. And we got out of it. Out of his cage. I wanted him to feel that defeat. Rub his nose in it, to borrow a human expression.
There - he put me… in a box - that caught Vhysa’lia’s ear. It sounded to her like there was something important there, something that Imril was dancing around, and that she would eventually chase down. A discomfort, if not a fear, at being stuck, trapped. And an aggressive response to it.
Vhysa’lia: So, if you weren’t going to physically challenge him, what did you do then?
Imril: I stepped forward and gave a little speech. A mean one. I still remember most of it. It boiled down to calling him so amazingly incompetent that if he was the best the Da’al could do, they were ripe for conquest by the real Klingons. The Captain told me to stop as I was saying it, but I didn't stop. Didn’t want to. She had to order me, loudly, to shut up before my training kicked back in and I did what I was told. Before I realized I was making things worse, not better. That’s how much I needed Evreste to sting for what he’d done to me. Us.
Yes, there was definitely some strong emotional reaction there to what Evreste had done. Very strong. It sounded far more than just feeling offended at the situation, and at the harsh words thrown at them by this Evreste, and more like a fear response.
Vhysa’lia: ::polite wince:: Ouch… ::understanding smile, as if they understand exactly what it feels like to be told off for insubordination:: I’m going to interrupt your story here, just for a few questions, if that’s okay.
They paused briefly, opening up the space in the conversation for Imril to respond at all, before continuing on.
Imril: Response
Vhysa’lia: I take it that the captain’s reaction is partially what prompted you to visit me then? That, and your own realization of error, and a desire to improve for the future?
They sounded sincere in their admission of erring. It was good, at least as far as she was concerned, to emphasize when someone chose of their own volition to try and correct their errors and strive to be better. Too many times they had dealt with patients who struggled to accept that they themselves needed to want to improve, for this to work.
Imril: Response
Vhysa’lia: Good, that’s good to hear. ::beat:: From what you’ve told me, I think I’m starting to piece together a bit of what’s going on… ::folding her hands on her lap:: I’d like to revisit briefly something you said, just a moment ago. When you were talking about the interaction with this Evreste figure, and your emotions to him.
Another long pause, just in case Imril wanted to get a word in before she started to poke at what she presumed was the crux of the problem.
Imril: Response?
Vhysa’lia: You had a strong reaction to him and what he did to your away team, evidently. In your words, you felt caged, in a box. All very vivid imagery, fearful imagery. From how I understand it, feeling trapped may be the cause of your outburst. ::beat:: It sounds like an acute stress response, and your outburst was you trying to regain what you felt was lost control, lost autonomy. Does this sound accurate?
Imril: Response
Tags/TBC :)