STF

side sim - Plant Food

Posted Dec. 15, 2021, 9:04 p.m. by Lieutenant Junior Grade Sharah Fayth (Medical) (Jennifer Ward)

Posted by Lieutenant Markus Woods (Chief Science Officer) in side sim - Plant Food

Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Sharah Fayth (Medical) in side sim - Plant Food

Posted by Lieutenant Markus Woods (Chief Science Officer) in side sim - Plant Food
Posted by… suppressed (2) by the Post Ghost! 👻

(snip)
Working the ingredients over, he mixed stirring and flipping to make sure everything rotated and shifted to cook evenly. At her silent comment he just smiled. Pride and enjoyment rolled off of him, but mixed with frustration at the lack of data. Silently he called into question some of Betazed’s scientific practices but quickly waved it away. There was nothing he could do about that. No sense stressing over it. Much less in a way that she might take it as a personal matter. It wasn’t her fault. On any part of it.

‘In the words of the famous Sherlock Homes… “Data, data, data. I cannot make bricks without clay.”’ he mused silently, then went back to stirring. “What do the myths and legends say,” he asked out loud. There was always a grain of truth in those matters. Somewhere. Even if it was a dust mote, floating in a sunbeam. It started somewhere.

Mark

There was an echoing feeling of frustration from her. There was no reason to not have more data. Betazed had been technologically advanced enough for centuries to have data and be able to track and analyze her condition. She sighed reaching into a drawer and pulling out a PaDD and scrolled through. “The earliest stories talk about demons who can control the minds of whole armies. Some mention great leaders who were able to predict with absolute certainty the actions of others and keep the people safe. Some talk about children who were possessed by the minds of demons, peacekeepers, shamans. They are all dotted with tales of immense pain and strangeness in the behaviors of the person. Later stories....many people cast the children out, left to starve, shunned them, afraid of them, some ran away on their own. Some returned, claiming to have been cured, many of the stories end, claiming the child eventually found ‘home’. The way they are written though it’s difficult to tell it home was an actual place or more an abstract idea.” At the word ‘home’ she pulled the swiveled display over and stared hard at the myriad multicolored markers and lines.

She tossed the PaDD down, frustrated. “We have more mythical and legendary stories of super-sensitives than we do hard data.”

Sharah

“My history is a little rusty,” he said, stopping what he was doing as the gears of his mind turned, rolling and turning the data, the stories over in his head. Yes, they were anecdotal, but there was no reason for anyone to lie about those events, so far as he knew. His own people had their own accounts of psychic and paranormal abilities. Hell, he’d tested high for ESP potential when he’d joined Starfleet. And then the encounter with the device seemed to have brought it out in a very big way. He was living proof.

“When did your people first attain warp drive?” Odd question, he knew. But perhaps the answer wasn’t on Betazed. Even more so, perhaps those folks had gotten offworld y other visitors. Or there had been outside influence by a species with no Prime Directive. Perhaps even the same species that made the device.

“The Avandar launched in 2139. These stories go back to our ancient history.” Following his train of thought easily she seemed willing to accept the idea that some off world alien visitors had something to do with it. There were legends of demons of pain and anger attacking whole villages. Instead of a super sensitive being out of control it could have been aliens. “Tam Elbrum left with Tin Man. His last message said that he had finally found his place, he was home.” Sharah sighed then, “But that was the last we heard of him. We have no idea if he is still alive or not. I would give almost anything to be able to talk to him.”

At the same time the universe was interesting. Everything had an equal and opposite. Balance of mathematical precision. Cause and effect. It stood to reason that if someone like Sharah was so strong and wobbling out of control in an erratic orbit, there had to be a stabilizing force. All life flows in a circle, and it can be terribly out of balance until one finds their center. Center, which one could think of as home. Maybe it was a place. Maybe it was a person. Maybe it was both. Maybe it was finding a missing aspect of ones’ self. Or even all of those things.

No closer to answers, he frowned and went back to attending to the frying and steaming food . REaching over he turned off the heat, then gave it a few more tosses, stirring it around, sending up billows of steam.

Markus turned back toward her, his stirring ladle in hand, half pointed in her direction. “Do any of these stories involve them having a partnership, sidekick, lover, etcetera? Or a place they visited often? Not necessarily the same place for all of them, but somewhere personal to each individual.”

Markus

Sharah was stilled momentarily by the focus Markus was giving the topic. She wasn’t sure what to make of it, no one, not even her doctors on Betazed had really looked at her research, not the social research anyway. She pushed it away though, she’d think about it later. She picked up another PaDD and scrolled through. “That’s what this is,” she pointed to the screen with all the color. “I’ve been trying to track where they lived, where they moved to or traveled. My planetary science expert on the Ark Angel helped me some. Trying to account for plate tectonics and climate change of time. If it’s there, I don’t see it. There are a few places, here, here, and here where they seems to over lap, but it’s by centuries at least. I would love to visit these places. I never got the chance.” Then she was quiet for awhile, going through notes and cross referencing stories from the first PaDD. She shook her head, “All those that claimed a cure or having found ‘home’…the ones who returned/went back, had a companion. Some married…the stories aren’t clear. At quick glance there are a few, the older ones, that talk about great leaders and such speak of spouses, but some seemed find and others not…wait…” she went back into the stories and then nodded. “All of them…the ones claiming to be healed, home, finding their place, they all either had a companion/spouse or spoke of one. There aren’t any details about them though.”

Sharah

Carefully he went to plating a few moments later, then shifted the wok back into the replicator along with the cooking gear, then brought over a steaming stir-fry with vegetables, rice, and what would have been beef it it hadn’t been replicated. This he sat down at the ow table in front of the couch. “Well, that’s a pretty good data point. We should take a closer look at it. A common through-line for a solve. It may turn out to be coincidence. Or it could be very important. For now… let’s get some food in you. In both of us. Bring your pads over here.”

This might turn into a working dinner, but he didn’t care. As long as she wasn’t miserable, and they could make progress, then that mattered the most. But in truth he was just happy to be able to spend time with her, and maybe help her. Rather than sitting in his quarters like a bump on a log.

Mark

Sharah grabbed the too PaDDs and stood, too fast, and paused, hip leaned against the desk. She turned the swivel monitor to cover the disorienting throbbing and then moved toward the couch. It certainly wasn’t the worst day she’d had. It was a matter of always being mindful, of always being aware, of checking herself. That thought brought a slight smile to her face, a memory of someone berating her for doing just that, for not trusting herself. Sharah pushed the memory away with regret. It didn’t matter anymore. She sat on the couch and put the PaDDs between them on the table. Sharah didn’t even consider it a working meal, not really. She was too caught up in the excitement that someone, anyone, was willing to discuss it. Even if only once, it was additional insight she didn’t have before. She was really happy it was Markus, though. She had always found one-on-one interactions easier, but she really enjoyed his company. It was strange, perhaps, since she’d only known him very briefly, but she was comfortable in his presence, and that was a rare gift.

The PaDD containing the notes and research had a file simply named ‘Home’. It contained every reference about a cure, peace, home, anything like that. Sharah had already considered Markus’ possibilities, but it was just notes. There was no qualitative nor quantitative data to support anything, yet. Sharah had stared at it for years now though. “I thought maybe tracking them would show somewhere…maybe having to do with the planets magnetic poles, or some strange electro-magnetic field, or even a rare flower.” She picked up a plate and ate silently. He could ‘hear’ the thoughts tumbling over each other, contemplating, making connections, discarding, looking at it again with an attempt at a new perspective.

“You know I have considered that the reason it doesn’t show as a genetic anomaly is because it’s not. The stories have been around far too long. Is…”she felt uncertain, maybe she was fooling herself…trying to rationalize, make herself legitimate rather than a mistake. “Is it possible that our evolution requires, our species requires, people like me to survive? Or did in a much harsher world than we live in now?”

Sharah

“Well, you should still see some sort of genetic trait.” He chewed his lower lip, considering. “It’s entirely possible. Based on what we know about the Precursors, this may be by design. Or at least some sort of happy accident. Nature doesn’t really build things without purpose. Sure, it experiments, slowly over time. But every so often evolution leaps forward. And it does so with a purpose. So who knows, maybe a million years ago your people were facing something that this was needed for. Or maybe it’s just a natural byproduct of the way your species is advancing now.” He thought about it for a moment, then began digging into some Earth historical archives.

Sharah nodded, “You would think so. But according to all of our doctors we, our people, don’t know what causes it or how to identify if someone will be like me. I’m not a geneticist, but I would think there was something even if not genetics. It would take me a life time to analyze the genetic data, but all we have is mine. Unless by some chance there were medical archives for Elbrum and Traven. I have yet to ever be given access to such information.” She twirled a lock of hair around her fingers, thinking. “What if it’s not one specific gene, but a specific combination of certain genes together that creates the super-sensitivity?”

He began to pull up piles of documents and files, and began going on a long discussion of psychic research by several governmental agencies over time. The possible experimentation by species not from Earth as well as those that had lived on Earth at the time in secret. He explained the various program findings, and even how they were weaponized in secret. And the theory that they were actually meant to be a defense system of sorts, but not designed by humanity but perhaps another species. Though records of such were spotty, and anecdotal, and possibly fictional. The presence of those types and abilities nevertheless seemed ordained to be used in such a manner.

“So what if … what you’re experiencing is similar. The Betazoid people needed a psychic weapon system. Or defense. It’s possible your people were made with this as part of their subset. And if you look at your history, you see your kind of ability pop up periodically. Many times when there is no need. But when there is need, they definitely get things done. And in perhaps some ways, more advanced psionics might even burn through some of the psilosynine, or a lot of it. It may even be that those abilities are needed to be used to function ‘normally’. Without doing so, it leads to the negative effects and overload that others like you experience.”

Mark

Sharah listened as he talked and seemed to ramble, but paired with his thoughts it wasn’t so disconnected. Sharah had to admit his mind was fascinating and brilliant. She was quiet, gently following along, but considering each possibility and theory he offered up. There was a great amount of information exchanged, silently back and forth. “So you think…it might be possible we were bred to protect our people?” The idea of being bred as a weapon made her sick. Subconsciously she accepted that it was a logical possibility but she could not, consciously, acknowledge she was meant to harm people. The idea made her stomach roll and threaten to expel what little food she had eaten. “Hent Traven learned all of the old psionic skills our people have lost. He…he stopped…he didn’t suffer the ‘side effects’ after he reached adulthood....” Her mind was swirling and a raging storm - one much stronger than the noise around her. Their mythology talked about demons of pain and anger and having to combat them. Of the earliest priests training and teaching others to fight those demons....memories of snippets of information she was too young to understand, priestesses consulted, tests run, and suddenly in the swirl and memory ‘obsolete monster’. And then the most d@m^i^g thing of all - when their people were dying, taken over by the Dominion the released Hent Traven from prison and used him and his knowledge to save their people. They knew, the great houses knew. Their people professed to be master of peace and community....she and those like her were the terrible secret. The great houses had kept it a secret. She was made to be the monster they all feared she would be. Sharah shook her head ‘no’ and then harder and harder…the air seeming to vibrate around her as her reality twisted and bowed and turned inside out.

Sharah

Mark could feel her mind begin to tilt and whirl, her thoughts darkening and collapsing in on one another. She was a monster. A demon. a thing. A weapon. A terrible secret. But she wasn’t any of those things. Not to him. And he’d done this to her. In one lighting-fast motion he reached out and seized her wrist in a tight. Maybe tighter than he meant it, but that was an unfortunate side effect. More meant to steady, ground, and keep her on this side of that black event horizon.

So lost in her own storm, and so fast was his reaction, Sharah never heard the thought, never had time to recoil from the physical touch. His grip was firm, maybe tighter than he intended, but he didn’t hurt her. There was a gentle soothing electric buzz that travelled up her arm from his hand and made her light headed. It made the world tip and bow and spin back in another direction. She was terribly dizzy. She felt guilt from him [no…it was just truth…scary truth but not his doing].

With it came a very strong NO! More mental than physical though the thought was so strong it came out as sound out of his mouth as well. At the same time He tried his best to reach for the silence within and wrap it around her, blocking out everything else. Whether he could or not, it didn’t even enter his head. He simply acted. Trying to wrap her up and cutting out the noise. like slamming the outside world OFF. Packed into it was a mighty, layered message. ‘Just because you have this potential, doesn’t mean you have to hurt anyone. You can be a weapon and choose how you operate. You have choices, and can be who you want. And even then, IF you had to fight, could you stand by while good and innocent people died while you could have done something real about it? You’ve got options. You’re not a monster. You’re a person, actual and whole, and someone I care about a lot. Don’t limit yourself to that concept, you are so much more.’

The vehemence and power behind the word froze her. Sharah sat stock still on the small couch next to him, eyes wide in surprise and confusion. Perhaps she should have been startled or afraid of the intensity of someone she’d only just met. Instead she soaked up the words like a woman dying of thirst. Needing those words, the affirmation and belief, the absolute certainty against the blackness of the precipice she was to close too. The one mantra that kept her going all these years [I want to help people, not hurt them]. Then the world turned off, the noise off, the PAIN off. Everything stopped.

It was electric and alive in it’s delivery too, and probably way stronger than he meant, consciously. Subconsciously, instinctively, it was meant to cut through ALL the noise. But without actually doing damage or harming. Powerful as a river, soft as a good breeze. At the last it was wrapped up with all the care he had for her and how he felt about her. Layers of vision and ways he saw her as more than just the monster, the weapon she was thinking of herself as.

Mark

That electric buzz spread and soothed into soft warmth - like an Epsom salt bath on a battered, damaged, and injured body. The pain was gone and in its sudden absence her body began to shake, her blood pressure dropped from lack of physical stress [oh…like an opioid pain killer], and then from the sudden lack of pain and stress, Sharah passed out.

Sharah


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