Sick #2

Posted on Wed Mar 1st, 2023 @ 10:13am by Ensign Syaffia & Lieutenant Thraxina

2,690 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: Mission 3: The Peace Ship
Location: Thraxina's Quarters
Timeline: After the USS Midway leaves SB10
Tags: Syaffia

Syaffia's shuttle training session was about the worst one Thraxina had ever experienced: so clumsy, upset and distracted had the Cadet been that she had twice had to take the controls herself to avoid a mishap. That Andorian crewman in the Shuttlebay was lucky he still had both his antennae!

That said, it was also the most impressed she had ever been with a Cadet: Syaffia, despite everything, had got through it... somehow. Thraxina didn't know how; she was no amateur psychiatrist: she hadn't been playing some clever 'tough love' ruse with the tall Argelian: she had just done what she had been trained to do: order a subordinate to do something until they did it or you punished them.

Simple as.

Punish them. The haughty helmswoman had forgotten all about that by the time she got back to her quarters after the fraught flight. She was, unsurprisingly, soaked in cold sweat and had immediately jumped in the shower, and was just out when the control panel on the outside of her slide door sounded. She threw on a short towelling robe and was still in the process of tying it up as she opened the door.

She was surprised to see the Cadet standing there.

"Syaffia!" she exclaimed. "Is everything all right?"

It was about the first time she had called her by her actual name since they met: on duty or in training, the tall girl, only two earth years her junior, was always referred to by the anonymous, dismissive title of 'Cadet'.

"Your orders were to report to you for disciplinary action for my tardiness once we had completed training." Syaffia's reply was toneless and devoid of emotion. As far as she was concerned her career with Starfleet was over. Never mind that the lieutenant had no care for her mental well-being; merely sitting in the pilot's seat of the shuttle brought back flashbacks of the infinite cognitive loop she'd been trapped in and being yelled at while trying her damn hardest to fly her best hardly helped. She wasn't fit to fly as she was, and the lieutenant obviously didn't care.

Hence she'd taken time to pack whatever few things she'd brought from the Academy and set them neatly at the foot of her bed, all ready for departure if the lieutenant deemed fit. Truthfully, she didn't want to work under a superior who didn't care that her subordinates had their own lives that came with their own highs and lows. She deserved a bit more respect than that.

The Helmswoman frowned. Her orders were to...? Oh yes it all came back now. Oh damn. Thraxina had been hoping to relax after a hard day.

"So, respectfully, ma'am, I am here as ordered, and will accept any disciplinary action you deem fit."

"Any?!" Thraxina raised an eyebrow. "Well, then, you'd better come in."

She puffed out her cheeks. What were the options? In Stratos City service she could have just strapped the girl to the punishment pillar for a good hour's torturing. Corporal punishment was frowned on in Star Fleet, though, even for fun.

"Well, you could tidy my room, except it's already tidy. That's what seven Earth years living in star ships will do to you." she sighed. The cadet just looked inert.

"Erm... what can you do for me...?" she pondered, looking around.

"Oh, I know, do you know how to do an Argelian massage? Someone told me once that they are the bee's knees!" That would actually be a useful 'punishment' - better than the sort of mindless fatigues officers usually doled out to naughty cadets. She had absolutely no idea what an Argelian massage was.

This time a look of mixed horror and shock dawned on the cadet's face. Did the lieutenant know what she was asking for? Probably not, considering her choice of words. Yes, she'd agreed to literally any kind of punishment, but even that was a bit too much, whether the lieutenant knew what she was asking for or not.

"I'm afraid I don't know how to do one. Neither of my parents were masseuses, nor do I have any experience going to parlors that offer it." She replied tonelessly. "I should inform you, ma'am, that an Argelian massage is usually quite sexual in nature and would be highly inappropriate for me to give to you as my superior."

Absolute honesty. She owed her that at least.

"Oh dear, well that's no good, then, is it!" Thraxina agreed. There were enough rumours going around about her and Lt. Karashka as it was.

"Look... Syaffia. Sit down. Forget the punishment, just let's have a talk... woman to woman. Look, I'm out of uniform, imagine I'm not your commanding officer for a few minutes. And let me get you a drink, you look bloody awful."

The one-eighty in attitude surprised Syaffia, to say the least. First the lieutenant couldn't care less for her as a subordinate, now she wanted to get her a drink, sit down and talk things out? Something definitely felt off here. Maybe all the visions had driven her crazy at last. Maybe she was hallucinating everything. Or maybe the lieutenant had had a momentary change of heart. She couldn't read minds; perhaps she'd never know why. Either way she was in no position to refuse, and so she sat down carefully on Thraxina's sofa. "Just a glass of water would do, ma'am." She said hollowly.

"Water. Hmmm" Thraxina rummaged through some bottles "I've got something called 'American Beer', that's sort of like water... oh, here we are..." she held up a bottle of clear liquid "... 'sprudelwasser' that's water, I think." She picked up another bottle with alien writing on the label, opened it, sniffed it, shrugged and poured it into a glass for himself. She brough both drinks over an plonked herself unceremoniously on the settee next to Syaffia.

"Here you go, cheers!" she said and took a glug of her drink, and pulled a face.

She smiled at the cadet. "Am I really that much of an ogre?" she asked. "I'm really quite nice when I'm off duty" she assured her "Well, in a slightly bitchy, catty way, perhaps; but I'm getting much better at being nice. I even had to go on a course about it at the academy."

"... and I do care about what you went through on that Object, I've read all the psych reports, I even went to see that awful Dr T'Mora woman about you..." the Ardanan women seemed to have a distaste for Vulcans "... and I came and sat by your bed when you were spark out of it, just ask Cadet Koppelman, she never lies, little Miss Goody Two-shoes."

"Forgive me, ma'am." Syaffia seemed barely more alive even after taking a sip of the drink offered to her. It was sweet and tasted oddly floral - but she tasted no alcohol. That was a relief. "But if you cared that I had such an experience why did you act like you didn't when I told you that I was still suffering side effects from it? That I was not fit to fly? You yourself know how our training today went. Was that not enough proof that I might have needed some space to recover?" She'd told her to treat her like she wasn't her commanding officer for the evening, and she was doing just that. Which also meant being utterly frank about what she felt they needed to discuss.

To give her her due, Thraxina didn't just snap out an answer, she leaned back in the sofa and took another drink, thinking about the question. "It was a gamble, I suppose. But Doctor T'Mora was very explicit, if I didn't get you in the pilot's seat again, and soon, you'd probably never have the bottle to fly again. And that would be a waste. I hate waste... wasted talent. You're good. You deserve to be a success not some failure who returns to her home planet with her tail between her legs, who couldn't make the grade after her first real challenge in space."

She looked at Syaffia. She looked a wreck, literally spaced out.

"You have another talent, too. Do you know what it is?" she asked, looking at the Argelian girl curiously.

Well, she had a point on that. In spite of the at least four flashbacks she'd had mid flight and ceding the controls at least twice she hadn't crashed, and she and Thraxina were still alive - which meant that there was some hope at least. It surprised her to think that, in spite of all the poor treatment she'd given to her she thought she had some talent at all. She'd think that with all the shouting and apparent lack of care at all she thought otherwise.

"What is it?' She asked cautiously. Something told her that there was something quite unpleasant waiting behind that proverbial gateway.

Thraxina put her glass down on the small nearby table and relaxed back into the couch, looking calmly at Syaffia as she revealed what T'Mora had said.

"The doctor told me that some women of your planet retain the vestiges of some uncanny psychic abilities, a throwback to Argelia's ancient past: that these women are witches and seers and, goodness knows what... spirit mediums. Rather odd to hear a logical Vulcan talking about such things, but there you go."

She leaned forward and tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"She said it might explain why your reaction to the... 'process' on the planet was so extreme. That you might possess these abilities innately and they were activated by the visions that were forced upon you."

"The funny thing is, I thought she was going to suggest something to suppress them... but instead she rather thought you should try to develop and master them, and..." she broke off for a second and looked guiltily at the girl. "Oh. You're probably wondering why she isn't telling you all this herself. She thought it would be best coming from me as your..." she coughed a little, "... 'mentor and friend'. I didn't like to tell her that you probably think of me more as a heartless bitch."

"She... wouldn't be entirely wrong." Syaffia admitted sheepishly.

"Oh, charming!" half-laughed the Ardanan "tell it to me straight, why don't you?"

"I don't exactly see you as much of a friend, ma'am. In fact just talking to you now feels kind of like a nice dream I'm having instead of reality." It wasn't so bad of news, then. She apparently had some kind of telepathic or empathic power she had no training to use. Okay. That was fine. Absolutely fine. Okay. She could live with that, and perhaps let doctor T'Mora tell her more when the time came.

"Well if sitting on my settee, drinking an out of date bottle of fizzy water's your idea of a nice nice dream - you're easily pleased" observed Thraxina with some levity, but then more seriously "I suppose that after what you've been through, anything that isn't a nightmare is a nice dream." She actually went so far as to reach over and pat Syaffia's shoulder in a sisterly (or pet-ownery?) sort of way. It was a bit stiff, like she wasn't used to acting like that with a subordinate.

"Listen, Doctor T'Mora can have her opinion, but if you don't want to develop your weird powers, don't think you have to. you're doing pretty well without them so far." she assured her. "They sound a bit spooky to me!"

"I'll think about training to use them. But the more pertinent question is how is it going to affect my flying? Ma'am, you saw my performance today. I'll need some time before I get back to baseline." Off duty or on, she suspected that Thraxina didn't care as much as she could - either because she didn't want to or know how to. What she wanted was results, not excuses as to why you weren't delivering results.

The Lieutenant reached for her drink again. "Hmmm, well leave it a couple of days and try and think about something else. I've got a routine fight to make then and you can come with me as co-pilot: no pressure and we can have another nice little chat and see how it's all feeling. But you'd better turn up, no more sick calls." she wagged a finger.

She gave the girl a smile, it gave her an entirely different look than the serious scowl she had on duty. "Have you a best friend on the ship? Someone you can really talk to?" she asked.

Syaffia hummed. "Cadet Koppelman."

"Oh God!" gasped Thraxina "... erm I mean good. Oh good... to have a friend like that. Er... any others?" she hoped so.

"Crewmen Stromi and A'Glosz."

Thraxina nodded "They sound like Tellarite names, are those the two A.C.s who were sitting by your bed along with Koppelman when you were out of it? Tellies are good for many things..." she should know, she'd had a one night stand with one on SB10 "... but hardly the types you'd want to open your innermost anxieties to." That was her opinion, anyway. "Who else?"

"Lieutenant Miyake... well, probably not so much on that last one. We met at the captain's cocktail party." The change in attitude relieved her, though. Maybe, just maybe, things wouldn't be that bad after all.

The thought of the plain looking little Japanese security chief made Thraxina look severely nonplussed. "Miyake... yes... the one with the postcard collection? So... Koppelman it is!" she beamed, never expecting the dreadful spotty Cadet's name to top a list of, well, anything."Take her somewhere tomorrow, somewhere private if your room's too busy, come here if you're stuck - I'll be out all day doing the refit on the phaser bank wiring - and tell her what happened, plain and simple. The more you talk about it out loud to people who care about you, the... well, 'easier' seems the wrong word, but the 'less hard' it will become, believe me."

She asserted herself a little again now, but only to say "now, will you promise to do that for me?"

Now Syaffia was genuinely shocked. Thraxina had done a complete and utter 180 in the space of one visit - and for the better, mind. Either she was dreaming or there had actually been a miracle that'd happened tonight. Not that she was complaining, mind, she was happy for the change. "I can do that." She said quietly. She still sounded marginally more alive than before, but at least now the tiniest, tiniest wisps of a smile tugged at her lips. "In fact I think I might do that when I have time today. We haven't talked in a while. She must be worried sick, poor girl." Syaffia sighed. "I owe her something for coming to see me. And all my roommates. Like... lunch. Or something..."

"There we are then, all sorted out." Thraxina chirped happily slapping her hands on top of her thighs as if to say 'this interview is over' and then standing to indicate the same.

It was true that she hadn't given the cadet her promised punishment but, at least in the officer's mind, lunch with the unbearably bouncy Poppy was probably torment enough.

"And next time we meet on duty, I shall try to be a little less fierce, hmm?" she gave Syaffia a little conspiratorial sort of a smile "Can't promise too much, though." Yes, the habits of a lifetime were hard to break, but she felt Syaffia was worth the effort.

"Respectfully, ma'am, I'm sure you'll find a way." Syaffia stood too, with the tiniest smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "I'll see you around, then, and it has been nice talking to you." What a night. The Argelian stood and made her way out of the lieutenant's room. Now to figure out how to deal with her next visit to T'Mora's office.

 

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