Lt. Ryden Sylvax - Letting her have the cabinet.
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Ryden Kel
Aug 12, 2026, 2:20:16 PM (4 days ago) Aug 12
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((Sickbay - USS Aurora-A))
The question had been intended as reassurance, but the change in Ivalyan was immediate enough that Ryden realized he had stumbled into something considerably deeper. Whatever nervousness she seemed to harbor around him suddenly gave way to something far more focused. He remained quiet, giving her the space to answer. If she was finally going to tell him what had been weighing on her, he wanted to hear it.
Ivalyan: I exhibited textbook signs of acute stress response consistent with first-exposure combat trauma. The subject froze, had impaired motor initiation, and relied on external intervention for functional recovery. To be blunt sir? Willow acted. You adapted. I stood there. That's the facts. I say this not to garner sympathy or seek vapid praise.
For a moment, Ryden said nothing. Somewhere in the middle of Ivalyan's assessment, something had changed. The hesitation that had punctuated nearly every sentence she'd spoken to him since he'd entered Sickbay had simply vanished. Not a stammer. Not a repeated syllable. She had described herself with the detached precision of a counselor presenting a case: acute stress response, impaired motor initiation, external intervention. She had even stopped being Ivalyan for a moment and become the subject. Ryden didn't need an empathic sense to recognize the difference. Whatever he might think of the conclusion she'd reached, this wasn't something she had decided five minutes ago while opening medical cabinets. She had thought about Drakos Prime.... analyzed it... probably replayed it more times than was useful. And judging from the certainty with which she'd just spoken, the last thing she wanted from him was another superior officer telling her she had done wonderfully simply because it was the kind thing to say.
Sylvax: You're right. You froze.
There was little point pretending otherwise. She'd asked him not to.
Sylvax: Willow acted. I adapted. And for a moment, you stood there. Those are the facts. ::He paused, meeting her eyes.:: Where I disagree with you is what you seem to think those facts mean.
He shifted against the edge of the biobed.
Sylvax: You just described a textbook acute stress response to your first exposure to combat. That's not the same thing as failure, Ivalyan. What matters to me is what happened next. You recovered, you continued doing your job, and you contributed to getting the job done.
His expression softened slightly.
Sylvax: That's not vapid praise. It's simply the rest of the assessment.
Ivalyan bit her lip and seemed to fold in on herself slightly. Ryden could feel the frustration beneath the surface, directed not at him but inward. Whatever standards she held for herself, he suspected they were considerably less forgiving than the ones she applied to anyone sitting across from her as a patient.
Ivalyan: You all just l-look like h-heroes.
The stutter had returned.
And "heroes"?
Ryden almost laughed, although something in the emotion coming from her told him that would be precisely the wrong response.
She meant it. That was perhaps the strangest part.
Sylvax: We're not. ::His answer came gently but without hesitation.:: We're people who've been scared before. Some of us have just had more practice figuring out what to do while we're scared.
If she could have seen inside his head on Drakos Prime, Ryden doubted "hero" would have been the first word that came to mind. She would have found calculations, second guesses, contingency plans, and the persistent fear that the next decision he made might be the wrong one.
Sylvax: And I promise you, what something looks like from the outside and what it feels like to the person doing it can be very different things.
Ivalyan turned her back to him and began rummaging through another cabinet.Ryden recognized it as one they'd already checked. He didn't say anything.
The sudden swell of emotion from her told him considerably more than the back of her head did. Embarrassment. Frustration. Something warmer that he couldn't immediately put a name to. And beneath it all, the unmistakable ache that accompanied tears someone desperately didn't want another person to notice.
So he let her have the cabinet.
Ivalyan: Thank you sir. I m-mean it. You all have d-done so much for me. I p-promise to not let you down..
Ah. There it was. Ryden's brow furrowed.
The "sirs." The nervousness. The PADD nearly achieving orbital velocity when he'd walked into Sickbay. Maybe he'd been looking at this from the wrong direction entirely.
She wasn't afraid of him. She was afraid of disappointing him.
Sylvax: Ivalyan, you're not letting me down. ::He watched her shoulders for a reaction.::Ivalyan... you don't have to pretend you're checking that cabinet again just so I won't see you cry. ::A small pause.:: Turning around doesn't exactly hide the emotion from me.
That earned him a glance.
Ivalyan: ?
Something in her expression shifted from embarrassment toward confusion, and Ryden realized a moment too late that he had just responded to something she had very deliberately turned away to conceal.
oO Right. Oo
People forgot... or just didn't know. It happened surprisingly often. Black eyes notwithstanding, Ryden's spots and symbiont meant most people took one look at him and filed him neatly under "Trill." He'd lived with that assumption for most of his life.
Sylvax: Half Betazoid. ::He tapped one finger lightly against his temple, offering an apologetic little smile.:: People forget. I present rather convincingly as Trill.
Ivalyan: ?
He deliberately turned his attention toward the medical inventory on his PADD, giving her back at least the illusion of privacy.
Sylvax: I can't read your thoughts, Counselor... not without considerable effort, and I'm hardly practiced at it. ::A crooked smile appeared.:: Unless you're Lyra, apparently. She seems to consider my head communal property whenever we're together. ::He chuckled fondly.:: But strong emotions? Those aren't nearly as easy for me to miss.
He let that sit for a moment before looking back toward her.
Ivalyan: ?
Sylvax: And for the record, I don't expect you to promise that you'll never let me down. I expect you to learn. I expect you to ask for help when you need it. And I expect you to give yourself at least some of the grace I'm willing to bet you give your patients. You don't have to prove that you belong here, Ivalyan. You already do.
Ivalyan: ?
The question had been intended as reassurance, but the change in Ivalyan was immediate enough that Ryden realized he had stumbled into something considerably deeper. Whatever nervousness she seemed to harbor around him suddenly gave way to something far more focused. He remained quiet, giving her the space to answer. If she was finally going to tell him what had been weighing on her, he wanted to hear it.
Ivalyan: I exhibited textbook signs of acute stress response consistent with first-exposure combat trauma. The subject froze, had impaired motor initiation, and relied on external intervention for functional recovery. To be blunt sir? Willow acted. You adapted. I stood there. That's the facts. I say this not to garner sympathy or seek vapid praise.
For a moment, Ryden said nothing. Somewhere in the middle of Ivalyan's assessment, something had changed. The hesitation that had punctuated nearly every sentence she'd spoken to him since he'd entered Sickbay had simply vanished. Not a stammer. Not a repeated syllable. She had described herself with the detached precision of a counselor presenting a case: acute stress response, impaired motor initiation, external intervention. She had even stopped being Ivalyan for a moment and become the subject. Ryden didn't need an empathic sense to recognize the difference. Whatever he might think of the conclusion she'd reached, this wasn't something she had decided five minutes ago while opening medical cabinets. She had thought about Drakos Prime.... analyzed it... probably replayed it more times than was useful. And judging from the certainty with which she'd just spoken, the last thing she wanted from him was another superior officer telling her she had done wonderfully simply because it was the kind thing to say.
Sylvax: You're right. You froze.
There was little point pretending otherwise. She'd asked him not to.
Sylvax: Willow acted. I adapted. And for a moment, you stood there. Those are the facts. ::He paused, meeting her eyes.:: Where I disagree with you is what you seem to think those facts mean.
He shifted against the edge of the biobed.
Sylvax: You just described a textbook acute stress response to your first exposure to combat. That's not the same thing as failure, Ivalyan. What matters to me is what happened next. You recovered, you continued doing your job, and you contributed to getting the job done.
His expression softened slightly.
Sylvax: That's not vapid praise. It's simply the rest of the assessment.
Ivalyan bit her lip and seemed to fold in on herself slightly. Ryden could feel the frustration beneath the surface, directed not at him but inward. Whatever standards she held for herself, he suspected they were considerably less forgiving than the ones she applied to anyone sitting across from her as a patient.
Ivalyan: You all just l-look like h-heroes.
The stutter had returned.
And "heroes"?
Ryden almost laughed, although something in the emotion coming from her told him that would be precisely the wrong response.
She meant it. That was perhaps the strangest part.
Sylvax: We're not. ::His answer came gently but without hesitation.:: We're people who've been scared before. Some of us have just had more practice figuring out what to do while we're scared.
If she could have seen inside his head on Drakos Prime, Ryden doubted "hero" would have been the first word that came to mind. She would have found calculations, second guesses, contingency plans, and the persistent fear that the next decision he made might be the wrong one.
Sylvax: And I promise you, what something looks like from the outside and what it feels like to the person doing it can be very different things.
Ivalyan turned her back to him and began rummaging through another cabinet.Ryden recognized it as one they'd already checked. He didn't say anything.
The sudden swell of emotion from her told him considerably more than the back of her head did. Embarrassment. Frustration. Something warmer that he couldn't immediately put a name to. And beneath it all, the unmistakable ache that accompanied tears someone desperately didn't want another person to notice.
So he let her have the cabinet.
Ivalyan: Thank you sir. I m-mean it. You all have d-done so much for me. I p-promise to not let you down..
Ah. There it was. Ryden's brow furrowed.
The "sirs." The nervousness. The PADD nearly achieving orbital velocity when he'd walked into Sickbay. Maybe he'd been looking at this from the wrong direction entirely.
She wasn't afraid of him. She was afraid of disappointing him.
Sylvax: Ivalyan, you're not letting me down. ::He watched her shoulders for a reaction.::Ivalyan... you don't have to pretend you're checking that cabinet again just so I won't see you cry. ::A small pause.:: Turning around doesn't exactly hide the emotion from me.
That earned him a glance.
Ivalyan: ?
Something in her expression shifted from embarrassment toward confusion, and Ryden realized a moment too late that he had just responded to something she had very deliberately turned away to conceal.
oO Right. Oo
People forgot... or just didn't know. It happened surprisingly often. Black eyes notwithstanding, Ryden's spots and symbiont meant most people took one look at him and filed him neatly under "Trill." He'd lived with that assumption for most of his life.
Sylvax: Half Betazoid. ::He tapped one finger lightly against his temple, offering an apologetic little smile.:: People forget. I present rather convincingly as Trill.
Ivalyan: ?
He deliberately turned his attention toward the medical inventory on his PADD, giving her back at least the illusion of privacy.
Sylvax: I can't read your thoughts, Counselor... not without considerable effort, and I'm hardly practiced at it. ::A crooked smile appeared.:: Unless you're Lyra, apparently. She seems to consider my head communal property whenever we're together. ::He chuckled fondly.:: But strong emotions? Those aren't nearly as easy for me to miss.
He let that sit for a moment before looking back toward her.
Ivalyan: ?
Sylvax: And for the record, I don't expect you to promise that you'll never let me down. I expect you to learn. I expect you to ask for help when you need it. And I expect you to give yourself at least some of the grace I'm willing to bet you give your patients. You don't have to prove that you belong here, Ivalyan. You already do.
Ivalyan: ?
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