Lt JG Taj'el - Calm began to Thin
Taj'el
((Recovery Room 02, Sickbay, Deck 10, USS Thor))
(Sorry its a bit long, Also did speak with Violex about S'tark reaction to things)
The recovery room was notably quieter and designed to convey comfort. The bed possessed a more conventional appearance than a standard biobed, and actual furniture had been arranged to accommodate visiting family or friends. The room’s intended purpose was evident: rest, recovery, and reassurance. Taj’el found such rooms preferable, as they provided a sense of peace and isolation that standard medical facilities often lacked. It was logical to hope the environment might also assist in calming the distressed Commander.
Paranoia was not entirely inconsistent with Vulcan behavior. While excessive suspicion could certainly be categorized as illogical, Taj’el concluded that his apprehension toward technology likely stemmed from whatever experiences had led to his current condition. Though they still lacked confidence in their bedside manner, they understood the importance of listening carefully, identifying repeated concerns, and acknowledging them, even when the emotional reasoning behind them remained unclear.
As these thoughts occupied their attention, they reached to interact with their PADD. However, recalling the Commander’s apparent discomfort regarding technology, they instead put the device aside and lightly tapped their arm, a habitual gesture they performed while processing complex problems. They attempted to apply logic to the situation and establish some degree of understanding regarding the Commander’s perspective. In doing so, however, they momentarily overlooked the presence of Doctor Perkins, an experienced counselor whose understanding of emotional behavior and trauma far exceeded their own.
Deciding it was best to focus on their area of expertise, Taj’el continued the physical examination without the tricorder, relying solely on direct observation and touch. Their gloved hands moved carefully along the man’s side, testing for areas of sensitivity. Without a scan, there was no reliable method of detecting possible internal injuries. Physically, however, the Commander appeared remarkably resilient. Aside from the burns extending across portions of his body, which Taj’el suspected had resulted from radiation exposure, he seemed comparatively stable. The thought then occurred to them that treatment itself might become problematic. If he distrusted even basic medical technology, administering medication through a hypospray would likely prove difficult as well.
Perkins: This must all feel very frightening and very frustrating.
Perkins: Once, my cousin Eldon got trapped overnight in an ice fishing shed.
Perkins: For six months after, he would yell at weather reports and weather control updates!
Perkins: After trauma, fear can linger and manifest in strange ways.
Having become absorbed in both the examination and their own mental observations, Taj’el paused when they finally registered that the counselor had been speaking for some time. They looked up with slight confusion. Wait. what had she been discussing? Ice fishing? The term was unfamiliar to them, and they found themselves momentarily attempting to determine whether it referred to a recreational activity, a survival practice, or some regional human custom.
Taj’el: There is no tenderness in the abdomen. However, there are radiation burns present there and along his legs and body.
The observation had been directed primarily toward Doctor Ay, as Taj’el remained uncertain how they were expected to properly treat radiation burns without the use of a dermal regenerator. The injuries appeared comparatively superficial, and Vulcans did possess a degree of natural resistance to radiation exposure. Even so, from a medical standpoint, it remained necessary to confirm that no deeper complications or internal damage had developed.
Nera: Excellent, you’re doing fine. Now, if you’d just hold your arms out for me…there’s a slight abrasion on your right wrist, do you mind if I roll your sleeve up to get a closer look?
Commander S’tark jolted away abruptly. Taj’el immediately stepped back and raised their hands in a non-threatening, submissive posture to demonstrate they had no intention of forcing further contact.
At that point, they once again considered the possibility of administering a sedative. His reactions suggested that obtaining coherent or useful information from him might prove increasingly difficult under his current state of distress.
S’tark: No! Didn’t I tell you? Anything that sends a signal, anything that can be transmitted, automated, observed, collected. It has to stop. ::whispering:: Stop. stop. Stop. Cut. Cut. Cut. ::sobbing::
As he began to break down, Taj’el paused, silently observing as the Commander fell into visible despair. The detached, analytical processes that normally guided their thinking seemed to recede for a moment as they watched him struggle. They could not sympathize in the manner others appeared capable of; however, part of them recognized an uncomfortable similarity to how they themselves may have appeared upon leaving the Academy, the lowest point in their life, from which recovery had taken nearly a year.
With visible hesitation and unusual gentleness, Taj’el rested a hand lightly against Commander S’tark’s arm.
Taj’el: We understand. There will be nothing present capable of sending signals or transmitting information. It is only us, Starfleet personnel here with you, Commander.
Perkins: Oh, sweetheart, no one here is going to hurt you.
Looking toward the older human with the calm, gentle voice, Taj’el gave a slight nod. It was evident that she possessed far greater qualification and experience in calming emotionally distressed individuals than they did.
Perkins: You know, sometimes, our minds will keep replaying awful and terrible things . It’s because it hasn’t found somewhere safe to put them yet.
As he pulled away, Taj’el immediately withdrew their hand and glanced toward their colleagues. For perhaps the first time since entering the room, they found themselves uncertain regarding the appropriate course of action.
Nera: Taj’el, continue if you would ::turning to Chrys:: What would you recommend?
Nodding once, Taj’el allowed the other two to continue the conversation. Looking down at the tense man before them, they initially reached out as though intending to offer reassurance, only to withdraw their hand before making contact. They remained uncertain whether they possessed any aptitude for providing comfort in such circumstances.
Deciding once again to focus on the area in which they held confidence, they resumed a hands-off examination. Their attention shifted carefully across the visible burns, studying the injuries in detail. Once again, they noted that the damage did not appear especially deep; however, further testing would still be required to ensure no additional complications were present.
Perkins: Well, to be honest, I think he needs comfort and grounding more than questioning right now.
Perkins: Right now, he’s trying to stay in control of himself, and if we push too much, he might start thinking we’re a threat instead of the support and help he needs. So…I’d listen to him. Don’t do anything surprising, try to avoid technology if possible, and give him choices however much we can.
As he stood up and moved away from Taj’el, they again raised their hands slightly in a neutral, non-restrictive posture, allowing him the space to move freely and choose his own position without interference.
S’tark: I don’t think that will be necessary, but fine. We’re wasting time. Don’t use any technology.
Taj’el: Understood, Commander. We are not utilizing any technology that could facilitate data collection.
S’tark: Especially no recording! They are watching us.Have you not been listening? Because they are listening. Always listening.
oOThey? Not just technology, something hacked their systemOo
Perkins: And we’re listening too!
The smaller, older woman nodded repeatedly, her expression softening as she appeared to follow the Commander’s concerns more closely. She seemed to be actively attempting to demonstrate understanding and empathy, aligning herself with his perspective so he felt heard and validated.
Perkins: There was one winter in North North Bergen…she paused, then clarified, we had some local people who really loved old things. They had these really old radios back from the twentieth century, replicated parts and fixed them up and gave them to the local kids. Oh we loved it and had so much fun!
Perkins: Of course, it sounds completely silly now, but they were frightened, and frightened people will try to make sense of things however they can.
Never having worked with the woman before they watched as she seemed to get lost in her own story. Taj’el was horrible at following along with these and understanding the meaning of them. It had to be some emotional understanding that Taj’el just wasn’t catching but her voice and the story had a soft rhythm to it that could put anyone at easy. Maybe that was just the point to distract and calm.
Taj’el: We are only attempting to confirm that everything is alright and to gather necessary information.
Nera: Response
S’tark: My name is S’tark son of Lerot and T’slak. My rank is Lieutenant Commander. Education, I was in a Vulcan learning center until I was … removed for being “a problem” where I was relocated to Ankeshtan K'til Retreat… for Rehabilitation… then Starfleet Academy! There! good enough for you? Anything more? Bloodtype? Past romantic partners? Doctors, I don’t think we have the time.
Feeling their own emotions begin to stir beneath the steady discipline of logic, Taj’el experienced a subtle internal disruption, one they carefully contained, but did not fully suppress. Their longstanding uncertainty with their Vulcan identity surfaced briefly, and with it, an uncharacteristic fragility in their composure.
For a moment, the professional mask they maintained in clinical settings loosened. A quiet trace of concern crossed their features as their attention shifted toward the counselor, as if seeking, if not guidance, then at least confirmation that they were still proceeding appropriately.
Perkins: Well, calling someone a ‘problem' isn't very nice. And for the record, I think “problem” can mean a lot of different things.
Perkins: During school one year, I was asked to leave a choir because I made everyone cry when singing during a harvest hymn.
Doctor Perkins then paused.
Perkins: If we really think about it, sometimes people who are intense are just people who feel things very deeply.
Taj’el: With all due respect, Counselor, I am uncertain whether this tangent is constructive at the present time. ::looking back at S’tark:: Is there anything we can provide for you?
Nera: Response
S’tark: Anything I need? My foci. It’s in my quarters. I need it. It keeps me level. It keeps my focus. It lets me focus on myself, work on a channel. It’s something I made when I worked with the Cairn as a child.
Taj’el’s eyebrow lifted slightly as they observed the Commander’s continued fidgeting. The request for a focus, a grounding object, was logical; even Vulcans who adhered strictly to discipline often employed external anchors to stabilize thought and meditation. Taj’el themselves often used subtle, repetitive motion, such as tapping a finger, to structure complex reasoning processes.
A possibility formed: offering him something to anchor his attention. It might be rejected on principle, but his current state suggested escalating cognitive distress, and without intervention it could become destabilizing.
Their analysis continued, clinical and immediate. They were physically capable relative to most crew, but the Commander was Vulcan, larger in stature, and currently unstable. In a worst-case scenario, containment could become difficult. That risk had to be accounted for, though not allowed to dominate their actions.
Perkins: Oh that’s really good that you have something like that if it helps you.
The counselor seemed to once again go on another story session, not paying it much mind as they started to think of solutions. Something to help him focus and calm down.
Perkins: We all need something that helps us find our center again. Why, when I was a kid, my neighbour would carve wood whenever he got upset or overwhelmed. He started off by carving ducks. Then his projects got bigger and bigger. In fact, by the time he was seventy, he’d built an entire emotional support gazebo!
Perkins: I think it’s very wise that you know what helps you.
Taj’el: I assume, however, that this foci is among his personal effects aboard his ship.
Nera /S’tark: Response
Perkins: You know, my great uncle Elvis would meditate to help him. Once, he did it in the middle of a blizzard!
Once again, the older woman resumed speaking, something about reassurance, grounding techniques, and possibly ice fishing again, though the thread of the conversation felt increasingly difficult for Taj’el to follow with precision.
Taj’el’s confusion sharpened slightly. They cast a brief, searching glance toward Doctor Ay, seeking clarification or at least alignment on whether this conversational direction was standard counseling procedure. It did not match their prior experiences with Commander Saa, where exchanges had remained significantly more structured and goal-oriented.
Perkins: He sat outside on the porch cross-legged for six hours while only wearing thermal socks and holding a pickle jar. He said it ‘centered his frequencies’.
Perkins: We found him frozen to the porch swing where he’d been singing ballads to a mail box.
Doctor Perkins offered a small, reassuring smile toward the patient, though Taj’el could not determine with confidence whether Commander S’tark was actually processing her words or merely enduring them.
Perkins: You know, sometimes, people just cling so tightly to the things that make them feel safe and anchored, especially after they’ve been upset or frightened.
That they caught.
Taj’el: I have a stuffed sehlat…
Almost immediately, the statement registered as suboptimal. A personal possession could not meaningfully substitute for another individual’s established grounding object. The Commander’s focus item was inherently tied to his own familiarity and long-term use; a replacement, especially one belonging to someone else, would lack the necessary psychological association.
Nera/S’tark: Response
Perkins: Couldn’t we help him get it? It might be the best thing for the patient.
Taj’el: I do not think that is wise. As I said, it is likely still aboard his ship. We are still lacking sufficient information.
They paused, carefully weighing the available options and their respective risks.
Taj’el: If the objective is both information retrieval and stabilization of his mental state, the most efficient method would be a mind meld.
The idea had crossed Taj’el’s mind earlier, and it remained there—unresolved, but persistent. They had only ever performed mind melds with other Vulcans, which made Commander S’tark, despite his apparent deviation from strict logic, still feel more familiar and predictable than emotionally driven species. In comparison, he represented a known framework, even if an unstable one.
That familiarity offered a measure of comfort, though it did not eliminate the inherent risks. A mind meld remained an intimate and invasive procedure, requiring consent, stability, and careful control. Even so, within Taj’el’s reasoning, it stood as a coherent solution to both information acquisition and emotional stabilization under current constraints.
Nera/S’tark: Response
Taj’el: Yes, I believe it is the most logical course of action. It would provide insight into what is occurring, and my own mind could assist in stabilizing the Commander’s emotional state. I am not the most experienced, but I have performed mind melds with other Vulcans before, and I am confident I can help guide him toward a more balanced mental condition.
Nera/S’tark/Perkins: Response
They understood the reservation, but they also recognized that a quieter, structured mind could provide stabilizing influence. More importantly, any insight gained might assist the command team in understanding the situation. Even partial clarity could inform whether a return to the ship, to retrieve the Commander’s personal focus object, was advisable or even necessary.
Slowly, Taj’el removed their medical gloves, setting them aside with deliberate care. They nodded once, subtly, then began to approach Commander S’tark. Their movement was measured and non-threatening, pausing intermittently to observe his body language for any sign of acceptance or distress. They waited for permission, explicit or implicit, before attempting any form of physical contact.
Taj’el: Please, just relax.
They lifted their hands carefully, cupping the Commander’s face with deliberate gentleness, fingers positioned lightly at his forehead, cheeks, and jaw, establishing contact with controlled precision.
Taj’el: Breathe easily… our minds…
They closed their own eyes, consciously releasing tension from their posture and centering their focus.
Taj’el: My mind to your mind… my thoughts… to your thoughts…
Nera/S’tark/Perkins: Response
Taj’el maintained outward stillness as they initiated the meld, posture controlled, breath measured, allowing no outward reaction that might deepen S’tark’s instability. The instant contact was made at his temples, the connection did not open so much as rupture. S’tark’s mind was not a single space, it was a looping fracture of competing realities, all of them equally insistent, none of them stable long enough to become truth.
At the surface, there was order. Function. Discipline. But it was a thin overlay stretched over something constantly rewriting itself. Taj’el moved carefully deeper, and the first wave of imagery struck without sequence or logic: S’tark’s crew appearing aboard a starship bridge, then instantly recontextualized as contestants on brightly lit game shows, laughing on cue, responding to questions as if their lives were entertainment being edited in real time. In the same breath, those same faces shifted into mission outcomes, some versions ending in survival, others collapsing into loss, each repetition slightly altered, as though the mind refused to allow any single outcome to remain final.
S’tark himself changed with them.
Taj’el observed how his decisions were not fixed, but reactive, each emotional surge rewriting the version of events he was inside. Fear sharpened the outcomes into punishment and failure. Denial softened them into staged performance, as if nothing had truly happened at all. Grief forced repetition, locking entire sequences into loops where the same moment played again and again with minor, increasingly unbearable differences. There was no stable timeline, only emotional states generating new histories to match them.
And beneath all of it, persistent and corrosive, the same fixed point returned without fail: he was late.
Not as memory. As accusation.
Every iteration bent toward it. In some, it was the moment everything broke. In others, it was erased entirely, replaced with versions where he had never been there to begin with. But the mind always circled back to absence, as if it were the only fact that could not be rewritten. Threaded through that absence was the comm badge, lost, dropped, missing, never issued, or slipping away at the exact moment everything shifted. A small object becoming the anchor of infinite blame.
Taj’el did not intervene. Not yet. They tracked instead, holding themselves steady as observer, until steadiness began to cost more than it returned.
The emotional pressure within the meld did not remain contained to S’tark. It pressed back through the connection, searching for any surface to adhere to, and Taj’el felt it begin to find purchase. At first it was subtle: a tightening behind thought, a faint distortion at the edge of focus, as if distance itself between observer and experience was thinning. Then sharper, unbidden echoes of the same cycles, the same collapsing scenes, the same repetition of absence and consequence, beginning to register not as external impressions but as near-memory.
Taj’el attempted to reinforce restraint, to reassert the boundary between minds, but the effort came slower than intended. The storm did not resist, it invited, filling the spaces where control loosened. S’tark’s certainty of lateness, the endless replay of crew on stage and in crisis, the comm badge slipping through reality like a recurring error, all of it began to press into Taj’el’s own awareness with increasing insistence.
Their calm began to thin.
Thoughts that had been held in disciplined order started to overlap, not yet lost, but no longer fully singular. For the first time, Taj’el could not immediately tell where observation ended and participation began, as the meld carried them deeper into a shared instability neither mind was fully containing anymore.
Nera/S’tark/Perkins: Response
