Lieutenant JG Hana Write - Oops, I did it again

[Persephone J]

(( The Dream, State Room, Capitol City, Ah'rak IV ))

((ooc: I'm leaving the descriptions of Dara in because through the meld Hana would have access to those thoughts + they are amazingly well done))

Dara had incredible power. He had honed his skills since he was young and even as a child, he could manipulate the Dream better than most adults. In his prime, he is able to do many things that others would think impossible. But as he peered into Hana's mind, he could see stars. A white, burning ball of fire, or something that his mind interpreted in that way; impossibly large and burning hot. Looking for thoughts and memories in that was like trying to read a message written on the sun. His mental avatar held his arm up over his face to try to block that searing light from blinding him.

Dara: I do not understand.. my neutral space is not emerging.

Wright: I did warn you.

He gathered himself and fueled his search with spite for that warning. She thought she was powerful? She had never met High Chancellor Dara.  The starscape became fractals of scenes from Hana's wright like a shattered mirror or the thousand facets of a gemstone, each one playing a memory, a thought, a feeling. He could see them all, but it threatened to overwhelm him.

Dara: There's.... nothing here. I do not understand. You are a Vulcan and yet you don't have any of the contempt your people have towards us.

He had expected it to be there. The Vulcanness. The 'logic' and the cruelty and the superiority that the Dream had long established was the core of the Vulcan. Viewed through the biases and perspectives of the dreamers, yes.. but facts were facts and the Vulcan that appeared as the monster in the Dream was based in truth. Some scent of it should have been there.

Wright: Telepathy is a two way street. Sure you can see my intentions, but

I never had anything to hide. You on the other hand…

It was too bright.. and he could feel her pressing on his own mind, reading his own memories as if he had never put up a psychic block of any kind. All his years of training and considerable focus on mental defenses amounted to.. well, Hana simply never noticed them.

His face began to strain with the effort. In the real world, he tensed. Sweat. Swallowed hard and his mouth felt dry.

Dara: Stop this.

Wright: I can’t help but see. The line is open and I can’t turn away. That’s my curse. So, now that you’re done trying to prod deeper into my brain than you need to, what else do you want to show me of this dream?

He could feel the memories pulled out of him faster than he could ever have dreamed was even possible. Hana saw more than images, she received whole memories as clear as if she were present for them. In an instant, she lived Dara's life as he stood amongst the Eastern Tribe leaders wearing a mask over his face as he struck deals for resources, as he used his powers to change the wills over others to make them vote the way he wanted them to, as he sent clandestine messages through couriers, details of the warp drive program and where to plant bombs.

Dara: You are treading on state secrets.

Wright: It's honestly a shame. 

Dara: Why would you say that?

Wright: Everything we've offered was genuine, you must know that by now. In fact, despite your attitude towards me, I ironically best understood your mistrust of Vulcans and how hard that is to deal with.

She thought about her mother, then. How she spent years fearing a species based on the poor actions of one member.

Wright: Let's just say you got probably the worst that planet had to offer and I understood that wariness better than most, but to cavort with terrorists?

Dara: Sometimes our representatives parlay with the terrorist leaders, yes.

Wright: I think we both know that what you're doing is much worse than parlay.

Dara: You don't understand, that's not.. You can't.. you can't possibly have seen that. How are you doing this?

Wright: Oh I can't help it. Whenever I so much as touch someone I get more info on their life than either of us want. You basically opened a door to your metaphorical castle just before the battering ram hit it. It's why I wear the gloves. It's in my medical files, you know. 

Dara narrowed his eyes and steeled his will. It was beginning to dawn on him that the longer he maintained contact with her, the more she would take from him. He needed to stall for time to get his people to safety or at the very least to erase his connection to them before the Aliens discovered them. Torn between his need to delay and his need to get away from Hana before she pulled every secret he'd ever held out of him, he had only one option remaining.

Burn it all down.

Hana could feel the Chancelor's bad intentions, but kept her cool as best she could even though she could distantly feel her heartbeat pounding away in her physical body.

Wright: I wonder if you have any honor at all, but you must have the smarts to know that is a bad idea based on how long you've kept your scheming a secret.

Dara: How dare you!

Wright: I know your dirty little secret and where you keep the proof of it hidden away.

Dara's mind had been drifting to a small lockbox hidden in his room with his records inside since he first realized that Hana wasn't bending. 

Dara: Is that a threat?

Wright: I'm not a spy or a schemer, but ::thinking of Is'Kah:: I'll do a hell of a lot for one of my own. Besides no one in Starfleet would believe you if you claimed I had bad intentions against what you know is true. The best you could get was maybe convincing them that I accidentally crossed some boundaries, but seeing as this is a notable problem for me and I did warn you. That probably wouldn't be good for me, but it'll get me put off diplomatic missions for a while at worst and I can live with that. Are you really willing to stake everything on your ability to take down a telepath that you know has more raw power than you? The way I see it, you have two options. One: you can tell everyone I meant what I said when I claimed that my ancestors sins are not my own and help me rescue my friends in exchange for me keeping my mouth shut for long enough for you to run off and hide with the terrorists you like so much. Two: you try something and maybe find out what happened to the last person who tried to hurt me.

Hana's mind flashed to the Romulan, the blade against her side, and the touch of their rotten mind against her own. Starfleet officers were supposed to be above threats and blackmail, but Hana was frankly done dealing with someone with the compassion of a wet sock.

Unfortunately, Dara did not seem keen to listen to reason or blackmail, because Hana felt him lash out in rage. Perhaps he wasn't as smart as Hana had thought because instead of using his superior control to do some kind of calcualted damage, he just slammed his mental energy or whatever they called it into hers. It hurt, and Hana could feel blood trickling down her nose, but she'd survive. Hana pushed back and the elder crumpled like he was made of paper and Hana was finally able to pull herself from the meld physically, tipping her chair in the process.

(( State Room, Capitol City, Ah'rak IV ))

Hana swore as she came back to reality with a head sore from both hittingt he ground and telepathy to go along with her bleeding nose. She scrambled to her feet and looked over at Dara, who was collapsed in his seat. Everyone was looking at her.

Wonderfull.

Wright: Um.... ::wiping the blood from her nose:: He'll wake up in a bit? ::whisper:: Hopefully.

S'Rorr/Sherlock/Stapledon: Response

Wright: General...you should really search his room. There's a box under his bed with some stuff in it you should really see. Oh. And there are bombs. A lot of them. I could probably sketch out location if I could get a map.

Hana was unsteady on her feet. She wondered if self-defense laws applied to telepathy.

Madra: Response

Lieutenant JG Hana Wright

Engineering Officer

USS Chin’Toka

A240112HW4