[JP] Commander Valen Carys & Mikali sh'Shar - Discovering New Oceans, Part I
David Adams
((Recovery Room, Sickbay, Iana Station, Stardate 239711.25, Day 38 of 365))
After twenty-five days in the recovery room, longer than she had actually spent in her dorm, Mikali sh'Shar packed up the last of her gear into a thick duffel bag, tidied up the room, made the bed, adjusted her eyepatch, told the computer she was checking out and left.
The nurses and doctors outside seemed reluctant to see her go, each taking their turn to shake hands, wave, or say goodbye. Maybe it was true what O-J had said—this place rarely had any really sick people, so that room had almost never been used before, and most of those perfectly qualified Starfleet doctors with all their years in medical school doing extremely basic things. Fixing the occasional bump or scrape, removing inserted objects, and maybe a broken bone on the holodeck. Nothing like her exotic Andorian brain-rot.
Whatever the truth of the matter, they seemed genuinely glad she was okay and sad to see her go. Mikali resolved to check in with them occasionally since they all seemed like decent folk, and people who didn't dislike her immediately were rare. And they didn't even stare at her eyepatch.
With her bag slung over her shoulder, sh'Shar had her head high as she walked out of sickbay, turned left, and went to the counselling suite.
((Counselling Suite))
Mikali was, as had become her custom, early to her appointment. She waited in a chair in the lobby until the appointed time, her bag of stuff from the recovery ward parked by her feet, PADD in hand.
She made some last-minute adjustments to her dot-points, and then when it was time, she tucked her PADD under her arm, walked over to the door and pressed the chime.
Valen: It's open.
Mikali opened the door, smiling broadly as she did so. Little had changed from her last visit, light streaming in through a faux sunlight and brightening the room, the same Bajoran art and calligraphy hanging on the walls, the diverse sculptures still in the same home as before. The flowers had changed, lending the suggestion they were real rather than artificial.
Yet the place looked different with one eye. Flatter. Like some kind of painting.
sh'Shar: Hi, Carys. Sorry I missed you during all the recent um... stuff. I got discharged today, so I'm here.
Mug already in hand, Carys sipped her raktajino while Mikali said hello. She looked even more casual than she did the last time the Andorian saw her; jacket tossed over the back of an easy chair, teal collar unfastened to the hollow of her throat, sleeves rolled up to the elbow. Formality wasn't something that came easily to the Bajoran, but it was a trait that a counsellor could get away with more easily than many.
Valen: And you came straight here? ::Eyebrows twitching upward, the glint in her eyes did not quite match the slight smile she wore.:: That is dedication.
Maybe dedication, maybe not, but Mikali understood that it was important to address this problem as soon as possible. She took her seat, laying her duffel bag down by her feet, and took a deep breath.
sh'Shar: So. Firstly, I'm feeling a lot better, better than I have in years actually, and also, I'm... sorry.
The Bajoran's footfalls were quiet on the soft carpet as she crossed over to the relaxed seating. If she was at all nonplussed with the lack of preamble, it didn't show.
Valen: For what?
One-Joke had asked her the same thing. Her answer was that she had caused a scene. This time, though, she had a better one.
sh'Shar: I got sick. It was preventable, and I made people worry. People including yourself. And... I let fear and insecurity cause this problem. ::She winced, taking a breath.:: If you're okay with it, I think maybe discussing these insecurities could be a good way forward. So this doesn't happen again. What do you think?
Carys regarded her for a moment, a shrewd look in her eyes despite the smile curling at the edges of her mouth. She set her raktajino down next to the PADD on the small side table beside her chair and paused before she took a seat.
Valen: I think that's a positive step forward. Would you like anything to drink before we start?
Something to drink. It was tempting to suggest something a little more interesting—she had started having hasperat again after all—but a voice nagged at the back of her head. One step at a time.
sh'Shar: Just water, thanks.
With a nod, Carys moved to the coffee table where a crystal jug and matching glasses sat. She poured out a glass and Mikali took it when offered, cupping it in both hands, just holding it for now. The Bajoran stepped back and settled herself into her seat, legs crossed, PADD balanced on her lap as before. She inhaled to speak, but Mikali slid in first.
sh'Shar: I... ::Mikali really didn't know where to go with this. She just spoke off the cuff, saying whatever came to her head first.:: When I lost my eye and got my hand mangled on the Indy, the whole thing that started this recent series of mistakes... I was proud of it. I know it's weird to say, but I was proud. My actions on that day made the difference... everyone on-board was saved because of me. ::She said it again.:: I made the difference.
The counsellor nodded. Mikali had made a determined effort to be here, straight out of sickbay, and clearly been turning a lot of thoughts over during her recovery time. And she didn't comment or interject, letting the stream-of-consciousness spill out of the Andorian's mind without anything to break the flow.
sh'Shar: I feel like when I tell people that I want to make a difference in what I do, they don't believe me. I feel like they don't believe me for entirely reasonable reasons; the more someone knows me, the more that... comes out, I guess. They think, no, this is just some kind of scam, this is her latest little game she's playing, she just has some other motive, you know? They don't... they don't think I actually want to—I don't know. Do that.
Finally, sh'Shar sipped some of her water.
sh'Shar: I just feel like it's hard for me, because—uhh, because... ::She hesitated.:: I've been in long-term care twice now. Once in rehab, after my... relapse, and once after the eye and the hand. In that time, both times, nobody came to visit me. Luna saw me on the DS-17 promenade before the surgery, which was nice, but nobody actually went out of their way to visit me when I was there. It was lonely. It felt like a punishment. Like I deserved it.
Another sip.
sh'Shar: They all had their reasons of course. To get the implant I had to go aaaaall the way back to Earth, and by the time it was all done, the Indy was a wreck. They were all moved to the Tiger and they had a new helmsman and there was no Air Group for me to come back to. Understandable. And after the Avandar the crew got split up, sent to different places, and I was all the way on Andor... understandable. They had their reasons, but still, you know, nobody came.
Reaching for her mug, Carys took a draught of the raktajino, the rich flavours of the bitter Klingon drink washing over her palate. She was an attentive listener, her focus on the woman in front of her. Note-taking was second nature to the counsellor at this point in her career, and her slim fingers moved over the PADD with almost no conscious thought given to it.
sh'Shar: So it means a lot to me that you did. And Catscratch, that lousy Caitian, did. And One-Joke did. And Serren did. And Tasha did. And that... has never happened to me before.
Valen: Why do you think that is?
TBC
--
Mikali sh'Shar
Civilian
ReachOut Project
O238704AT0
&
Commander Valen Carys
Anthropologist and Clinical Psychologist
USS Gorkon
T238401QR0