Ensign Amelia Semara - The Stuff of Greatness

[Max]

(( Dewitt Residence, Ventura, California, Earth ))

Shayne: How do you do it? I mean… your people, and leadership. Telepathy must make it…

That was quite a question.  The answer could have taken a lifetime to explain, and touched on just how different Betazoids were from Humans once you looked past the same layout of limbs and bones and muscles, and even the surprising similarity of faces.  Amelia had the remainder of their dance together to try to choose one piece of useful perspective from her culture and her life, and pray it was enough to keep him asking questions.

Semara: On Betazoid ships, the cap'n stands apart just the same as on our ships.  But they never stand alone.  :: A thoughtful pause. :: I know most humans aren't open the way we are.  But I can see what you're goin' through... :: A small sigh. :: If I may be so bold, bein' alone in this won't make it better.  You don't gotta have big emotional talks with folks, just... Maybe don't be afraid to unsnap your collar more often if you're enjoyin' yourself? :: A beaming chuckle, then a soft, steady voice. :: It's okay to let your crew care about you.  You can have reasons to want to be here, too.

He cast his eyes away, apparently understanding.  Some snobbish academics argued the Betazoid way was almost a complete antithesis to the Vulcan way.  Instead of banishing emotion from daily life, it was harvested as a source of power and energy.  The theory worked, to an extent, despite how much it simplified both societies and the individual variations therein.  To Amelia, being Betazoid was a windmill on a high hill, or a sailing ship on ocean waves.  The feelings of others were always there, but it was her decision to let them guide and carry her or let them flow past.

Shayne: I was wrong. ::pause.:: About you. About me. About… how to cope.

Amelia's face bunched up a little.  Right and wrong hadn't been her point.  She simply meant to suggest adding another tool to his repertoire of navigating stormy emotional waters.

Semara: Wrong?  :: A soft chuckle :: Maybe, or maybe not.  Did Cochrane make Einstein wrong?  It's even more tangled when you ain't got math to go by.  There's just what works for you, and what doesn't.  But I'm honored if a new perspective helps you figure out if it's time to let something go.

She could feel him soften under her touch, his fingers in her hand relaxing as if he were a seized-up machine now lubricated and slowly coming back to life.

Shayne: I’m not a better man, or even a good man. ::he held up a hand to stay any interrupting dissension:: I’m not even saying I’ve learned my lessons. Why else would I be so determined to keep myself isolated? But I was wrong to judge you. I was wrong to self-medicate. Maybe I can start here. I am sorry for the discomfort I have caused you.

Amelia met his gaze, and she let the sway of the music bring her a warm centimeter closer.

Semara: Thank you for sayin' so.  You are already forgiven.

She let the dance pass for a moment as she considered what to say to the rest.  The final verse gave the opportunity for a series of turns and whirls, and other couples took it, but she held to him closely, just step-step-stepping across the lawn in tight formation.  She wanted - no, needed - to say this to him.  The words were deliberately and boldly spoken.

Semara: As for the rest...  I am what I am as much as you are what you are.  :: An encouraging smile. :: Say what you will, but only I get to decide how to feel about you.  I choose to see the man that wrings out his heart in concern for his crew.  I choose to see the Captain that preserved life when it would have been so easy to destroy it.  I choose to see the way you honor us and guide us and bring us together, even when it hurts.  I see those things, and I say they're the stuff of greatness.

Shayne: Response

Semara: :: A laugh :: Mama always said I was hopelessly optimistic.  Don't see a reason to change that now.  Much more enjoyable way to live, I think.

Shayne: Response

She looked away from him for a moment, and knew she had a moment of contrition to offer as well.  She'd been girlishly silly to think she could manufacture a friendship with this man practically overnight, and not entirely appropriate.

Semara: I'm sorry if I come on strong.  It's hard to shake an upbringin' concerned with others.  Givin' folks space... It doesn't come natural.  Especially when I like 'em.  :: A wry smirk. ::  But I'll work on it, and maybe we'll eventually meet somewhere in the middle.

Shayne: Response

The tune wound down into its final flickering moments, waltzing them through a cadence that brought them to a soft standstill.

Amelia let go of the Captain, and gave the most gracious curtsy she knew how to give.

Semara: Thank you, Cap'n.  For the dance, and for everything.  I'm lookin' forward to many more missions together...  And maybe I can help you find an excuse to let loose again here and there between?

Shayne: Response

With that, she leaned in and kissed the air next to his cheek, squeezed his shoulder affectionately, curtsied yet again (she really couldn't help herself), and at last turned to leave the man to his own feelings with a twinkling smile.

Tag/END

Ensign Amelia Magnolia Semara

Science Officer

USS Khitomer - NCC-62400

A239710MA0