JP: Commodore Taybrim & Lt. Cmdr. DeVeau - “Vulnerable” (Part 2)
Amanda Nordstrom
((Virixis VI - Alora’s Cabin))
Determination underscored that single word. How much had he borne and for so long? He’d carried it with him, a man without anyone to commiserate, without anyone to understand, to share it. It was painful, but she had expected that pain, and she didn’t fight it.
And yet, even as it flowed into her, the jumble of insanity, the back and forth and mix up of time, everything sort of slammed together in a maddening jumble of thoughts and feelings, Alora had an advantage - one that Sal had given her. She had a map.
Originally, what had been shared left everything in a neat and tidy order. While unpleasant, it was nothing compared to the agony that she was receiving now, though even what she received now was pale in comparison to her own past. Still, it was painful, but she pushed through it, unwilling to give in. What he had originally presented her with from their first connection was enough that she could use it, a map to guide everything that was thrown at her, to place what she knew from before properly and use that as a key to find the other pieces of the puzzle.
Taybrim: ~please…~ ::Now it was a plea for her to disconnect. A rising agony in his own mind at the pain he was sharing. Agony, shame, pain.::
It was almost like being on the holodeck, but there were multitudes of things flashing through at one time, half were the bits that had been given to her by Sal, playing their way through on one side, the other half the jumble, then between them, they sifted back and forth until it was becoming more cohesive, a single unit, a play that unwound itself in a semblance of order rather than the chaos that had suddenly been thrust at her. Without that guidance of what he’d given her, she would have been unable to sort through it as quickly as she was doing so. Even then, time would be needed, time that she didn’t want to spend right then and there. More inspection, more introspection, more retrospection, all combined to make true sense and give everything it’s proper consideration.
And there was where one of the skills that had been taught her came into play, one useful, perhaps used to her detriment more than should be, but in that moment became an act that allowed her to breathe, allowed her the chance to set it aside for the moment so she could thoroughly examine it all in her own time. Gathering it all, what she had processed in those moments - had they been moments, or hours? Time made no mark there in her mind - she swept them away, tucked them behind a door, one where she could turn her back on it, if just for a little while, granting herself a brief respite so she could ponder how to move forward with the knowledge she had suddenly gained.
That done, she inhaled, a deep almost gasping breath, and she clutched at him, suddenly realising that she no longer held him with one hand, but with both, her grip almost desperate, leaning into him, her breath quickening from the frantic mental race she had just run.
Finally able to withdraw and close his mental shielding tightly around his mind, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, holding her steady in a gentle, paternal grip.
Taybrim: I am sorry. I am so, so sorry…
His words were spoken, dripping with pain and guilt.
DeVeau: I’m fine. I promise.
Sal stayed perfectly still, steady and gentle. As much of a rock as he could be for her. It was the least he could do.
Taybrim: Breathe, slowly. Focus on the here and now.
DeVeau: Sal…
He was so worried about her. Always worried about others. Never about himself. How much more did he hold inside? Was what he shared only the tip of the universe that rest upon his shoulders? She remained in his grip, enjoying the warmth of his hold.
Taybrim: That is one of the keys. Here is real, now is real. Everything else is in the mind.
DeVeau: You don’t…
But his guilt spurred him on, so afraid of what he thought he had done to her.
Taybrim: ::He nodded slowly.:: Yes, everything in the mind is equally real. Real, but slippery while here and now is solid.
DeVeau: Sal.
She didn’t break the hold he had on her. It was far too comforting, not because of what she had experienced, but because such touch had been so rare lately. Instead, she leaned further into it, one hand rising to rest tenderly upon his cheek and guide him so that she could look directly into his eyes . A smile spread across her face, small, but genuine.
DeVeau: It’s okay. You didn’t hurt me.
She hadn’t felt pain. Not her own pain. No, what she had felt had come from others. From him. She hadn’t meant to cause him pain. That was the last thing Alora wanted to do.
He tensed, the knotted feeling of his muscles spreading from his neck, through the shoulders and down into his core. He hated seeing others in pain and loathed causing others pain. But at the moment the mental tempest placed in his mind by Kelemkor was so harsh that all he could sense was pain.
His fathomless dark eyes locked with Alora, confusion bleeding through. How could she not sense the pain? Or did she feel it and withstand it?
Or did she feel it, endure it, and then give a gentle reassurance that she was fine? Because that’s exactly what Sal would do.
Taybrim: Are you sure?
He wanted - perhaps needed to know she was OK. Because behind those superior mental shields he was hurting and didn’t have nearly enough time to process it. The last thing he needed was hurting another to weigh upon his conscience.
DeVeau: But I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t mean to. I never want to…
This time he was solid. The tension in his body did not release, but his voice was calm and steady.
Taybrim: You did not hurt me. Ambassador Vananth did not hurt me. Do not blame yourself or anyone else for the scars Kelemkor caused.
His voice faltered slightly at Kelemkor’s name. The mind that would haunt him for quite some time.
Emerald met ebony, seeking, searching. Something was different, more had been left unspoken, the weight no less than before. Perhaps even heavier than before
DeVeau: Oh Sal, what did he do to you?
Taybrim: Same thing he tried with you ::he murmured:: Flaying the mind open to strip mine the pain. ::he took in a long, slow, breath.:: He didn’t win.
The words were confident and honest. But the tone wavered. Kelemkor lost the war, but the battle was gruesome and bloody. Even victors need to recover.
Alora took a deep breath then let it out slowly, her voice soft, a half whisper, but confident.
DeVeau: You don't have to hold back. Not with me. You can let go with me.
He stopped. Almost completely. His body was tight, breath paused, unblinking. This was a role reversal that he didn’t know if he was ready for.
He was the Commanding Officer. It was his role to be the bulwark for his crew. But his role was changing.
In the past he had easily endured. The poor leadership of Commodore Kinney was a welcome challenge, and even a Court Martial couldn’t flag Commander Taybrim’s focus and commitment. Losing Taelon in a temporal rift had only redoubled Captain Taybrim’s efforts to rescue and protect his friend. A deepening nerve damage condition had put Nijil after Fleet Captain Taybrim to enforce medical attention; something Sal accepted more quickly than Nijil expected - because he easily admitted it was foolish to not tend his health when there was important work to do.
Each of his previous First Officers had the benefit of serving at a time when the stakes were lower and the focus was not so tightly on them. But as Sal carried out his do-gooding clean up campaign in the Trinity Sector, notoriety and focus had grown to an uncomfortable degree.
Alora DeVeau had the unenviable role of being the first officer to a man in the most difficult of situations, where his ability to protect her was waning and his need for support was growing.
He felt ashamed.
Taybrim: I can’t. ::he said in a low, serious tone::
He couldn't? Alora didn’t understand, and the only thing she came out was a bare whisper of a word.
DeVeau: Why?
Taybrim: Alora, it is my job to teach you. To shelter and protect you so you can grow as a leader and succeed. This has been my promise to each of my first officers. ::he paused, his voice heavy with emotion:: It is unfair to burden you with my demons.
Is that what he thought? That he had to stand alone? To shoulder everything? To carry the weight of the universe upon his shoulders?
After Sal had tapped her as First Officer, Alora had suffered from doubts for the first time in her career. Navigating the strange new office, trying to find the balance between being a friend to her friends and one of their commanding officers had been difficult. And there were still things about that position she still wasn’t sure of.
But that? For the first time since she took up that position, Alora was certain of at least one role, and it wasn’t necessarily just as first officer. It was as a person who cared for him. Sal was Commodore. He was the commanding officer of Starbase 118 Ops. He was their leader.
Sal was also a regular man. And a friend. That was a word she could use. That was safe. That was something he could be. Something she could be. Whatever she felt, whatever strangeness affected her in her uncertainty with her emotions and where she stood, that was at the most basic and fundamental state of being what he was and what she would be to him - a friend.
A tremor rumbled deep within, but she was far too focused, far too determined at that time to let it take any hold. In that moment, it wasn’t about her, it wasn’t about what she felt, what she was struggling with. It was about him. What he needed.
DeVeau: Oh Sal...you’ve left out half of it.
He pressed his lips together, knowing he had left out far more than half. But he was curious as to which half she was referring to.
Taybrim: Which half?
DeVeau: The other half of the equation. We protect each other. We help each other. Bear each other's burdens.
Alora leaned forward, her brow touching his, eyes unwavering.
DeVeau: It is unfair for you to bear it all, to walk this path alone. I want to walk with you. Let me walk with you.
He paused and gazed back at her for one, long moment. As if he was reading her, without actually setting forward any telepathy.
Taybrim: You ask to bear my burdens, but you keep your burdens to yourself. ::he said gently.:: I would share your load and offer mine, but I will not overburden you.
That was why he had originally come. To check in with her. Through the tempest he had not lost sight of his original goal.
His words startled her, and like he had done before, she froze. Alora stared at him, her heart reacting by beating in her chest, pounding against her ribs. She had wanted to help him, relieve his burden. He’d turned it around on her.
DeVeau: You don’t...
Taybrim: It is unfair for you to bear it all and walk your path alone. I want to walk with you. Let me walk with you.
Oh yes, he had been listening.
Her stomach roiled and her body tensed. Alora had shared very little with anyone beyond Ashley, and even he hadn’t known about, at least not in detail, about some of the things she had experienced. She’d been set upon a path. A choice had been placed before her. First and foremost, she wanted to help Sal. Her relationship with Aron had helped show her the difficulties a Captain struggled with, that he needed someone just like anyone else. She had always tried to be a friend. Always tried to offer her support to others.
Now Sal was offering that support, just like Ashley. His approach was different, but there it was nonetheless. Except it was painful. Even with Ashley, she struggled to communicate, struggled to really talk to him. It had taken herculean effort from the counselor for her to even start.
And Sal? He was there. Right there. Offering. Offering and using her very own words against her.
Her throat constricted and she swallowed, her eyes glistening in the gentle light. Yet she didn’t pull away. Why didn’t she pull away? It had been so easy to do so before.
DeVeau: I...I won’t be overburdened.
Taybrim: Then you agree to share equally? ::He queried keenly, a diplomat’s gambit.::
Still she lingered, still she remained there, her eyes locked with his, but her emotions had shifted with the tide.
DeVeau: My burdens are nothing compared to yours.
Taybrim: Burdens are burdens. Comparing their weight is like comparing a targ to a Vulcan astrophysicist. They are so different and each keen in some areas and blunt in others that they cannot be compared.
Alora’s breath quickened with the pace of her heart. Uncertainty warred within her and her mouth worked, as if trying to form words, but the words she attempted to conjure flitted away. He missed nothing, however, caught the silence and answered it.
His expression was soft, welcoming, but his eyes were sharp. That perception of a Betazoid and a counselor.
Taybrim: I understand, Trust is a two way street. I trust easily, backed by my empathy. But I ask for trust in return.
Trust? Was it a matter of trust? Was that why she felt so hesitant? Was that why she struggled to talk about it? No. It wasn’t that.
DeVeau: I do trust you.
And she did. Sal was easy to trust. From the first day she had met him, she’d liked him, found it easy to trust him, both as a Commanding Officer and as a friend.
Taybrim: Then what is the roadblock?
Alora closed her eyes, shutting out his face, his gaze and trying to grab hold of some sort of control. She had been in control just moments before, but now her foot had slipped and she was struggling to hold it together.
DeVeau: It’s not a lack of trust…
Maybe that was true. Maybe it was a defense. Sal wasn’t about to call her out on one or the other. He was here to seek understanding.
Taybrim: I believe you. But I also believe there is more to it.
Her throat tightened further, her words caught in it, choking her voice until they were uttered so quietly that had he not been so close, they would have been lost.
DeVeau: It’s just...so hard.
He reached a hand out.
Taybrim: If you can’t tell me, maybe you can show me?
Alora’s eyes closed, clenching shut, wrestling with the idea. Did he know what he asked? Did he realise what he wanted? What he was asking her to do? The very same thing she was asking of him.
The question was, could she? Could she be that open with him? Could she share everything? Did he want everything? What was it, exactly, that he wanted of her?
Those eyes opened, the emerald darkening as she gazed at him. They remained locked in that strange embrace, touching, but there seemed a mile of space between them. Her eyes held his gaze and she whispered her following query.
DeVeau: How much do you want?
Taybrim: How much are you willing to show?
Alora licked her lips, though her gaze remained unwavering, and the question came again, softer that time.
DeVeau: How much...do you want?
Taybrim: As much as you are able. ::He paused.:: All of it.
******
Commodore Sal Taybrim Commanding Officer StarBase 118 Ops E239010ST0
&
--
Lt. Cmdr. Alora DeVeau
First Officer
Starbase 118 Ops
M239008AD0