Two Old Souls

Posted on 22 Mar 2015 @ 5:59pm by Lieutenant Oren Idris Ph.D. & Commander Norvi Stace

1,826 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Episode 08 - NIMBUS
Location: USS Galileo, Deck 4, Corridor
Timeline: MD -02, 10:00hrs

[ON]

Rummaging through the contents of his office, Oren realised two things. One, he didn't have nearly as much information on Klingons on hand as he thought he did and, two, he really needed to stop leaving his personal possessions inside his office. Half the things he'd thought had gone missing over the last two months from his quarters were haphazardly thrown around various places inside his desk, no doubt in an attempt to hide them whenever someone came in.

Throwing them into a box he quickly replicated, Oren did his best to gather as many paDDs and manuscripts as possible concerning Klingons. All things considered, there wasn't much and he made a mental note to do more research the next day. Once he could get his mind under control. Picking up the box and resting it against his hip, Oren began to leave the lab and head towards the Lounge, absentmindedly digging through his possessions, wondering just what kind of junk he'd accumulated.

Stace on the other hand was a spartan woman. She knew where everything was and there wasn't a lot of it. Transcending from one life to the next, she had mastered the art of letting go. Physical objects to her were empty, hollow articles with which she had no dependence on. With her almost needing to entertain in her office, she liked to keep it clean and clutter-free. But her move to the bridge had left her feeling somewhat disconnected from her scientific kingdom and she was now on her way down to the fourth deck to collect her only vice: the bottle of Bajoran Fire Whisky she had stowed away in her draw.

As she turned the corner on Deck four, she suddenly stopped short almost running into Oren. "Doctor," she greeted him, smiling widely. "Are you leaving us?"

Oren barely managed to keep hold of the box, startled by the teal uniform. Stiffening slightly to keep his hold on it, Oren looked up at Stace. Not managing a big smile back, which would have been his immediate reaction hours ago, Oren just shook his head with a small quirk of his lips. "No," he assured her. "I just...won't be coming into work today, so I thought I'd pick some things up." He felt awkward, knowing that Stace probably hadn't been informed of Oren's impending absence now that her attention was more focused on bridge duties and command.

Stace obliviously furrowed her brow at the scientist and then turned her mouth downwards. "Listen, why don't you just come in to my office for a moment?" Something about Oren's demeanour had caught the Trill off-guard as she led him into her sanctuary through the lab. She rounded her desk and then took her seat, offering the vacant one to Oren as she motioned to the desk for him to relieve himself of his box.

"Is... everything all right? You don't seem all right."

Placing the box in front of him, Oren sat down, almost hiding behind it. Looking around, he felt nervous, still a little raw after his therapy session with Devin. He sighed, then took a deep breath to steel himself for speech. "I'm not..." he admitted, looking around insecurely.

"I'm..uh...well, I've got anxiety, and depression," he admitted, realizing it was the first time he'd actually said that on the Galileo. He hadn't even told Prudence out loud, even though he figured she knew.

"Something happened yesterday to trigger it and I just...I'm not great."

"Ah," Stace said, taking in a slow breath and interlacing her fingers on the desk before her. She widened her eyes to him and then softened her features, scrunching up her face for a moment to betray a line of sympathy. "I'm no therapist," she admitted, her tone even and gentle, "but do you want to talk about it? My first host suffered with bouts of both. She was an artistic type and strangely, I've come to realise that it's not too dissimilar from dedicating yourself to the sciences. Both can be such lonely and detached callings." She paused and then raised an eyebrow. "It's a hounding black dog that has threaded itself through my lifetimes. What happened, Doctor?"

Oren shrugged. "The usual. I trusted someone I shouldn't have," he explained. That was, after all, what it came down to. He had been foolish to give a person he didn't know well that much power over him, letting Ellsworth make him feel guilty about things he shouldn't. Thinking that their relationship was more than it actually was. "To be honest," he continued. "It's more than that." On another occasion, and with someone else, Oren probably wouldn't have said anything, but Stace was different. She would probably understand, at least partially, what Oren was going through. "It just reminded me that I'm not like anyone else on the ship. Except maybe you, and Dr. Wylde. I try not to be cynical and act like I'm not the age that I am, but I can't help it."

"I don't know about you," Stace replied with a flash of an interested smile, "but I'd rather not be like anyone else on this ship." She relaxed a little, seeing the struggle inside of the El-Aurian so raw and aggressive and then aligned herself with his thoughts. "We're different in the way that each time the Symbiont passes on to a new host, I feel somewhat re-born. Added to. A slate wiped clean with a dirty rag of memories and experiences. But that doesn't mean I always learn from them. I see the universe through different eyes with each Joining. But the one constant in this is the universe. People change, fashions change, cultures change. But as a whole it is exactly the same as I leave it." She sighed, raised both eyebrows to him, and then smiled, reaching in to the bottom draw of her desk to pull out the bottle and two tumblers. She poured them quickly and pushed the glass over to him.

"Even if you don't drink the stuff, these conversations are always best conducted over a drink. Why don't you tell me what's actually happened and see if I can't help you a little."

Oren took the tumbler in hand, tipping it slightly towards him and looking down at the liquid inside. He stayed silent for a few moments, mulling over his thoughts and wondering what to say. "I told you. I trusted someone I shouldn't have," he repeated with another small shrug. "I haven't really connected to anyone in decades. Trust issues, I guess," he explained, then took a small sip of his drink.

"When I came on the Galileo, I met someone I thought was different. Someone I felt close to and that rarely ever happened to me. So, I relaxed and let myself get swept away by it all, like some teenager. Turns out, he was just using me, and now I feel like an idiot."

"Want me to break his fingers?" Stace flippantly cast out, a flourish of her eyebrows denoting her jest. "The thing is, you never really know what someone's after until it's usually too late." She paused and then smiled warmly, taking up her own tumbler with nod to him as a cheers. "But that shouldn't stop you from forging forward with someone new. Here or somewhere else. And it certainly shouldn't make you feel foolish. And trust me. I know what it's like to not connect with people for a while. I've been single longer than I care to admit so I understand the jarring feeling that rips through you when something finally seems to be going right, just for your whole world to come crashing about your ears. Is it really worth that much heartache to you that you don't want to come in to work today?"

Oren smirked, still staring down at the glass as he swirled the amber liquid inside. "It's not just that..." he admitted, his voice soft and airy. "It's just...wearing on me. Not the break-up, if you can even call it that since I don't think it was even a real relationship, but just...life in general." He set the glass down again, sighing before looking back up at Stace again, meeting her eyes. "It's different, being El-Aurian as opposed to being Trill. There's no...fresh start, or seeing things through different eyes...there's just, you. All the time. I know my worries and thoughts are premature, it's just hard not to think about how exhausted I am now and how much life there is left."

"I can appreciate that," Stace replied with utter honesty. "It is different for me. I can start anew, so to speak. And with that newness is an added perspective that I didn't previously have. So I do feel absolved of previous indiscretions. And poor judgments. But I still make them. With all this experience and wisdom. I still make mistakes. Knowingly so too. So don't beat yourself up about it." She paused and then considered the full picture. "Feeling lost in a life path as long as ours can be debilitating. I'm always here should you want to talk."

Oren replied with a small smile of appreciation. "Thank you. That's very kind of you," he said, taking another tiny sip. "I don't feel bad about making mistakes, I know they're unavoidable. I just can't help but wonder how well I handle their aftermath." Oren never considered himself a very strong person, emotionally or physically. He admired Stace's demeanor, their confidence and experience, but he knew he wasn't like that. He was sensitive, and no matter how much stigma came attached with such an attribute he knew deep down he could never shake it. No amount of posturing and pretending minor things didn't affect him could rid him of the undeniable fact that they did. Minor social impasses most people would shrug off and never think about kept Oren up at night, forcing him to replay them over and over in his own mind, lamenting over what he could've done differently. It wasn't a healthy habit, but it was real.

Taking another few moments to not appear incredibly rude, Oren gave Stace another small smile. "Thank you for the drink, Doctor Stace. I appreciate it," he said, setting the unfinished drink onto the desk. "I should go and let you get back to work." He was sure she had better, more important things to do than hold Oren's hand while he wallowed in his irrationality.

"As I said, Doctor, my door is always open should you need to talk. Or figure out any aftermath." She paused and then pushed her chair back, sensing that Oren wanted to return to his own day. She smiled back and nodded. "Anytime."

[OFF]

Lieutenant Commander Norvi Stace
Commanding Officer / Chief Science Officer
USS Galileo

Oren Idris, Ph.D.
Archaeologist/Anthropologist
USS Galileo

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