Lt JG Taj'el - Touch, simple and clean
Taj'el
((Corridor, Deck 5, USS Thor))
Meris: Your thanks is appreciated, but unnecessary. In the Aenda mission, you helped me as much as I helped you. ::a pause:: That is what makes us a good team. Our strengths complement each other.
They didn’t fully agree with that statement. It brought back too many reminders, how difficult even simple tasks had been at times, like dealing with a spider bite, or how Meris had carried their unconscious body for most of that incident. Even the memory of them protecting both themself and Saa from falling doors lingered uncomfortably.
But this wasn’t the time to dwell on that. Those shortcomings didn’t serve the moment. They were here for other things, and they forced their focus forward, setting the thoughts aside as best they could.
Taj’el: I was uncertain whether the holodeck or the gymnasium would be more appropriate for this. You may lead, and I will follow.
Meris: The holosuites are perfect. In fact, I have already programmed the setting for your first lesson. The location of a famous duel from Earth’s history. I believe you will find it an appropriate historical setting for my teachings.
They didn’t know much about Earth history, but they were interested all the same. Meris seemed to have an artistic eye, or at least an appreciation for paintings and flowers, so Taj’el was confident that whatever they chose would be visually striking enough to suit them.
Taj'el: Fascinating. I am looking forward to your instruction, then, given how thoroughly you have planned this.
Following them, Taj’el passed through the arch and into the holodeck.
((Holosuite 4, Deck 5, USS Thor))
Taj’el stepped in just behind Meris, pausing within the archway as they finished configuring the environment. The holodeck shimmered and resolved into a fully realized exterior world, open sky stretching overhead, wind carrying across the simulated air, and jagged cliffs framing a narrow expanse of rocky ground. Below, waves crashed in a steady, rhythmic pulse that echoed up from unseen depths.
Stone formations lined the floor, forming a naturally uneven path that wound between the rocks and along the cliffside. It was aesthetically striking, but also immediately noticeable as precarious. Taj’el raised a slight eyebrow.
For a beginner exercise in fencing, the terrain introduced variables that would normally be avoided. They wondered briefly whether this was intentional training complexity or simply an artistic preference. As they considered this, Meris turned with clear confidence, gesturing broadly to present the creation. The sweeping motion suggested pride in the design, as if the environment itself were part of the lesson rather than just a backdrop.
Meris: I give you the "Cliffs of Insanity"...
Meris: I believe it is somewhere in Sweden.
Again, Taj’el did not know much about Earth locations beyond the more widely referenced ones, and they accepted Meris’s framing of the place without question. They had no reason to doubt it. In fact, it appeared to be a thoughtful and visually appealing choice for training.
Still, a note formed in their mind to ask later where Meris had learned of this location, it seemed too specific to be accidental, and curiosity, as always, followed close behind observation.
Taj'el: Cliffs cannot be “insane.” Is that a translation from Swedish? Nevertheless, it is quite lovely and visually striking.
Any thoughts about the environment faded as Meris produced a case they had been carrying. With careful, deliberate movement, they opened it and presented Taj’el with a foil. Taj’el’s attention sharpened immediately.
They were, in that moment, quietly grateful they had not rushed ahead and replicated equipment of their own. Their knowledge would have been incomplete, at best, and certainly not comparable to whatever level of craftsmanship this represented. More importantly, it would have meant missing this gesture entirely. They accepted the realization without overt expression, but with genuine appreciation.
Meris: I took the liberty of replicating a foil for you. I believe you will find it properly weighted and balanced for your height and weight. In addition, the handle is specifically designed for a left-handed swordsman such as yourself. You should find it fits your hand well... provided you do not have six fingers.
Taj’el accepted the foil with quiet reverence, turning it over in their hands. It was longer than they had expected a foil to be, but the weight, light, balanced, deliberate, felt unexpectedly natural.
They tested the grip subtly, noting how comfortably it aligned with their hold. That alone was noteworthy. When Meris mentioned the “sixth finger,” Taj’el raised an eyebrow.
Taj'el: That would be a fascinating medical phenomenon. I wonder whether it would improve grip efficiency or introduce additional complications. Why would you inquire about a sixth digit?
They shifted the foil into their off hand, briefly raising their gloveless left hand to display its five digits in clear contrast. After a moment, they returned their focus to the weapon, lifting it back into a ready position and studying its balance again.
A soft, almost imperceptible smile formed as they did so, their expression easing in a way they did not fully analyze. There was a faint, unfamiliar warmth in their chest, subtle, but noticeable enough to register even if not yet understood.
Taj’el: The gift is thoughtful and genuinely appreciated. I thank you deeply.
Meris: response
Meris offered a kiss as a form of thanks. Taj’el did not feel confident enough to mirror such a gesture, not yet. Instead, they chose something simpler, more grounded in their own understanding. They extended their ungloved hand.
The motion was steady, though not entirely without tension. Their pulse quickened slightly at the uncertainty of it all, but they did not withdraw it. Trust, in this case, mattered more than hesitation.
Taj’el: A high five, or a handshake, as a gesture of gratitude. This is what you previously offered me.
Meris: response
The gesture had been subtle, and logically Taj’el understood it would be acceptable. Meris was calm, steady, and Taj’el only telepathically connected to others’ thoughts under extreme emotional strain. Still, since learning more about telepathic sensitivity and boundaries, Taj’el had become more cautious about physical contact than before. Even so, they recognized that strengthening their own mental discipline required controlled interaction with others, particularly those they trusted.
The contact was brief and unremarkable, hands meeting in a quick, efficient exchange before separating again. Almost as soon as it occurred, the moment had passed. Any lingering thought attached to it was equally transient, fading without consequence. It was, in practical terms, a trivial interaction with no lasting effect or repercussions.
After a moment, they awkwardly lowered their hand and turned their attention back toward the path, using the terrain as a focus to redirect their thoughts. It was easier to concentrate on something tangible than to dwell on the uncertainty of the exchange.
They would need to be careful, both with their footing and with tracking movement from Meris’s hands. Taj’el had training in Suus Mahna, but it was an open-hand defensive discipline, emphasizing control and redirection rather than armed engagement. It differed significantly from the structured fencing style Meris had described.
Taj’el: What would be the first step, then, my instructor?
Meris: response
