Standard disclaimer applies.
Timeframe: Post “The Begotten” but before “A Simple Investigation”
TRIGGER WARNING: Please note this story deals with suicide and addiction.
The expanse of space. It had once seemed so vast, so great. As if no one could ever begin to imagine the extent of it all.
And yet, somehow over the past few months, the sum of it had condensed down into the mundane and unremarkable. Looking out past the planet they orbited and the stars dotting the view held no mystery or excitement any more. She felt tired… broken and a bit lost within herself. A sigh dropped through her entire body and she turned from the window, trying to cling to the idea of what she had once believed.
“Stars still there?”
“You’ll have to wait a few thousand years to find out for yourself, Irene.”
“Ah, the intellectual luxury of being on board with the scientific mind. I really think they need to add basic humor and sarcasm as an extension class at the Academy for your kind.”
“Sarcasm we have in bulk, believe me.” Kyleea Diam took a chair and swung it around, hugging the back as she sat.
“So,” Irene Breckenridge started slowly, taking her own seat. “Are we going to talk about it?”
Kyleea regarded her for a moment. She knew Irene was only doing her job, but how could she describe what she couldn’t understand herself? This muddled pool of thoughts that constantly surrounded and eluded her.
“If you’re uncomfortable here, we could always go to my office.”
“No, that’s okay.” Kyleea sat back from her chair, gripping the sides. “There’s hardly anybody here anyway. I guess I’m just having trouble figuring out what exactly it is.”
“Take your time.” Irene leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms loosely across her chest.
The words were almost immediately on her lips, but she fought them. It seemed so simple and complicated. Her focus fell to the table and let her mind wander as she stared into the lighted panels. A small voice in her head said that Irene was watching her closely, supportively waiting and trying to figure things out herself at the same time. Kyleea tried to change her mind, move her thoughts to some other solution, but finally she relaxed and gave in.
“I’m not so sure I want to be a scientist anymore.”
“And why is that?” The tone was perfect, level and without pressure as if it had been the voice in her own head.
“None of it is satisfying; there’s no joy in it for me. Maybe it’s the symbiont, so many more experiences, the edges of new discoveries get dulled a little.”
“And what exactly has taken the joy out of it?”
“The reports for one. And dealing with the sensor rotations between the departments. Between the meetings and the emergency sessions and the follow-ups… this isn’t what I signed up for.” A strange feeling… embarrassment? No, vulnerability swept over her and she focused on the table again. Irene must think her stupid to be saying such things. They were all dealing with stress, all dealing with the daily commitments and duties that came with a Starfleet uniform. She had never had a problem with that before.
“In a way you did. After all, you accepted the post of Chief Science Officer.” Irene leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table’s edge. “However, I do not think we should give your science career up for lost just yet. What you’re going through is actually fairly common, especially with perfectionists such as yourself.” Irene waited for Kyleea to react, but met only a blank stare. “You’re overworked! You’ve been pulling long shifts, you never take a day – or probably a minute – off, and it’s finally all built up into wanting to throw everything you’ve worked for away. So, instead of that, I’m going to prescribe the only known treatment.”
“That being?”
“Shore leave, two weeks. Away from any duties as a science officer.”
“And let everything pile up while I’m gone? I’ll be right back where I started the moment I step foot back on the ship.”
“Methinks the Trill dost protest two much. Your departments can pick up some of the slack – might actually do them so good to have you out of their hair for a change. And to keep your mind off of the ship falling apart without you, let me suggest a few planets particularly known for their… concentration breaking entertainment.”
“Sorry, Breck, but Risa’s not my kind of planet.”
“And that part of you I will never understand, Kyli.” Irene leaned back again, shaking her head.
“Look, if it’s getting away from the departments for awhile, I’ll just take an afternoon on the holodeck.”
“No, won’t cut it. You’re going somewhere off this ship where you won’t have the temptation of fitting in a little work. Let’s see…”
Kyleea’s attention wandered back to the table. She didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to leave the ship. She was comfortable, she was… or at least had been content. All this fuss wasn’t necessary. Maybe if she did just delegate a little more of her work…
“Got it,” Irene said with a snap of her fingers.
“All right, dazzle me,” she replied unenthusiastically.
“I’m sure you’ve heard of it. A Federation outpost near Bajor: Deep Space Nine.”
=^=
Deep Space Nine.
It certainly was a change from Starfleet construction. Darker, sharper…
Moodier, Kyleea thought, a bit like I feel.
And somehow the thought relaxed her. Here she would not have to pretend the general amiable face that so many knew her for. Here, perhaps, she could brush off what had begun to close her in so tightly aboard the Roddenberry.
The doors to her quarters slid open and Kyleea’s focus was immediately drawn to the large cat’s eye of a portal, opening onto nothing but the empty space that surrounded the station. She overstepped the threshold – still adjusting to the curious architectural detail – and dropped her bag onto a nearby chair. The doors slid shut behind her and she stood for a moment, drinking in the silence. She always managed to keep herself busy, always on duty despite what any roster or schedule might say. The potential of distraction was all she needed to stay focused on anything but herself. Perhaps this would be an opportunity to recenter herself, to focus, and – if there was time – relax.
The quarters were certainly more than adequate for a few weeks’ stay. A large living area with attached sleeping quarters and head. She caught the reflection of her earring in the portal. It had been quite awhile since she had visited an actual Bajoran Temple. Indeed, it was one of her first thoughts when Breck suggested DS9. Being able to truly soothe her pagh as well as her mind… that was where the strength of the choice lay.
She stepped closer to the portal and smiled at her reflection. The contrast her spots gave to the standard Bajoran earring always seemed to confuse and intrigue people. When they discovered she was not only a scientist but Joined as well… well, she had terminally confused more than a few in her time.
The earring grew heavy and Kyleea broke away from the portal, heading for the Temple to start two weeks that would – with any luck – be without incident.
=^=
The Promenade seemed to be brighter as she stepped out of the Temple. Somehow the meditation in her quarters was never adequate and there was always the shadow of something left in her heart. The Temple was reaffirming, reanchoring, and – as she was sure Breck would appreciate – relaxing. Now the bustle of people didn’t seem so intrusive, the colors that peppered the Promenade no longer overpowering. She felt young – again and still.
And yet… her visit to the Temple had managed to give her a little peace and she wasn’t eager to lose it in the crowds. A flash of light above her caught her attention and as she craned her neck to see, there was the barest hint of what must be the wormhole, the Celestial Temple. The scientist and devotee within her raced each other up to the second level.
The portal engulfed her as she stood before it. It was a different sensation than standing in her quarters had been. There were many other people making their way through the Promenade, some stopping at their own portals to gaze out at the stars. Perhaps she wasn’t the only one to be searching for something outside herself. There was a sense of community even in her solitude. And to have that apart from people she had known, lived and worked with for years, gave her another piece of comfort.
She wasn’t sure how long she had been standing there when a growl from her stomach broke her train of thought. Hunger… and there were suddenly dozens of aromas fighting for her attention. Strange that she hadn’t noticed them before, anchored in this spot. A sigh relaxed through her body and she stepped back, turning to continue along the Promenade.
But something knocked her forward and she struggled to keep her balance. A dull throbbing in her left shoulder, Kyleea held it gingerly, looking to see what she had bumped into.
“There’s no loitering on the Promenade,” a gruff voice said, passing by at a hurried pace.
“I’ll try and keep that in mind the next time a steam engine rolls through.” Kyleea craned her neck, trying to look at her shoulder. She moved her arm, rotating it slightly, and winced.
A glimpse of remorse passed through the stranger’s eyes but was quickly brushed aside. “See to it that you do.”
Kyleea looked up at the brusque response, confusion on her own face as he turned and stalked away. Her peace had quickly been replaced with an unsettled feeling in her pagh. She threw up her arms to dismiss the encounter, to try and brush off the indifference with which she had been met and clear it from her mind.
And nearly doubled over from the pain shooting through her shoulder. Biting her lip, she asked the computer for directions to the station’s medical facilities.
=^=
Where had she come from? He hadn’t even noticed her as he traveled the Promenade. He threw the PADD down onto his desk, letting it slide to rest. It wasn’t shaping up into a particularly good day. First off, Shakaar was on board again and secondly… secondly, Shakaar was on board. Spending time with Kira. He had made up his mind to put those feelings behind him, to stick to the essentials – but he had quickly learned that Kira was one of those essentials in his life. And the frustration and quiet agony that consumed him on days like these easily trumped bumping into somebody who had little business loitering around in the first place.
=^=
“The good news is nothing’s broken and there’s no dislocation – although you may have a bit of a nasty bruise in a day or so. Meanwhile, this should help with any discomfort.”
Kyleea waited for the hypospray to take effect and slowly tested the shoulder.
“It may be a little stiff tomorrow, so just try to loosen it up in the morning.”
“Thanks, Doctor,” Kyleea hopped off the bed, feeling slightly less than mended, and froze as her stomach growled loudly.
Bashir looked up from his PADD, feigning shock. “I missed that on my scans.”
She laid a hand over her stomach. “I was on my way to grab a late lunch when this happened,” she explained, nodding towards her shoulder. “Any suggestions?”
“I must admit I’m glad there’s someplace other than that Quark’s place to eat.”
“Quark’s is by far the… loudest place to eat on the Promenade but, if you’re here for any length of time, you’ll have a chance to sample the kiosks and restaurants around here.”
Kyleea looked out from the Replimat at the stream of people passing by. A space station should have been monotonous just spinning in space, but so far it was turning out to be just the opposite. On starships, people got to where they had to go. There wasn’t much time or space for…loitering.
So different than a starship. She reached forward for mug and winced.
“You never did mention exactly what happened to your shoulder,” Julian said, glancing up from his plate.
“Someone tried to walk through me on the Promenade is what happened. He wasn’t even apologetic, just grumbled something about there being no loitering on the Promenade.”
“That sounds remarkably like Odo, our chief of security.”
“Security?” The word barely forced its way through. “That’s not exactly comforting.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much.” Julian slid his plate to the side, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “You don’t strike me as the type of person Security would bother themselves with.”
“Again, not exactly comforting,” she said with a raised eyebrow.
Julian’s laughter brought her guard down slightly more and Kyleea began to wonder if she might not have to spend the next two weeks completely alone after all.
“Jadzia!”
A tall Trill walked over to join them, a serene smile on her face that Kyleea had always found herself envying in other Joined Trill.
“Jadzia Dax, I’d like to introduce you to Kyleea Diam,” Bashir said, half standing from his seat.
“Nice to meet you,” Dax said, shaking hands and sitting down.
“Dax, huh? I have to say I’m kind of glad I didn’t get that one. They were always using Curzon as an example of what to expect from an extreme host.”
“Oh, he had more than his share of moments. Although from what I’ve heard, Diam hasn’t exactly had a walk through the park either.”
A month ago the remark would have thrown her into a downward spin, but today Kyleea managed to take the lighthearted comment as it was intended. “Let’s just hope we’re both not the topic of conversation for the current initiates.”
Jadzia smiled, a broad cheerful laugh coming out. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Julian chuckling as well but with a bit of a rejection in his eyes. “Sorry, Julian, this can’t be very interesting for you.”
“Oh, no… no, quite the contrary,” he lied.
“Convincing, isn’t he?” Jadzia pushed herself back from the table. “We’d better get going anyway.”
“What? Oh, right.” Julian uncrossed his arms and leaned forward with a shrug. “Staff meeting.”
“Just as well. I’ve been meaning to take more of a look around the station… hopefully this time without injury.”
Julian turned to take his plate over to the reclamator when he stopped. “You wouldn’t be up to a game of springball afterwards, would you? Might be a good way to stretch your shoulder a bit.”
“I guess that depends. What’s springball?”
A light jumped into Julian’s eyes. “Not to worry, I can teach you how to play.”
“Sure, sounds like fun… I guess.”
Bashir recycled the remainder of his lunch and Jadzia took the opportunity to lean in next to Kyleea.
“Do me a favor, and don’t beat him too easily. He can get very irritable – especially if you’ve never played before.”
“I doubt you have anything to worry about, Dax.” After all, she wasn’t the Prophets’ gift to sports.
“Jadzia, hurry up. If I’m late to another meeting…”
“See you later, Diam,” Jadzia said as she went to meet up with the anxious doctor.
Kyleea recycled her lunch as well and sat down again with a steaming cup of raspberry hot chocolate. She was quickly getting used to being in the midst of a crowd of people, just letting herself blend into the variety around her. Remarkably enough, she seemed to blend in here. No one knew her for any of her scientific achievements or service to Starfleet; even the combination of her earring and spots only drew a few curious glances.
Her eyes drifted over the people as they passed in front of her, a smile slowly spreading on her face. The visit to the Temple had helped her center; now, sitting here was restoring her again. She kept herself so distant when she was on duty that there was no sustaining energy for her to draw on. Here, the buzz of the station, the ebb and flow of both visitors and residents was reenergizing.
The seat started to press into her back and she stood up, stretching her shoulder. Eager to get a look at the rest of the station, she stepped into the flow of people. She wondered if the colors ever seemed to dull over time, if those that called the station home eventually failed to notice the brilliance hanging above them. It was another welcome change from life onboard a starship. Somehow Starfleet colors were always more… conservative. More reserved and commanding from uniform to corridor.
A figure cut through the crowd, chewing up the Promenade in long strides. The doctor’s attitude had seemed fairly positive about their chief of security but she still had her reservations. Something about him put her on guard for no concrete reason. And yet she wondered if that was how her officers felt around her sometimes, a person who seemed so dedicated to their work that everything else seemed a nuisance. She wondered how they saw her, what opinions they had shaped about her – and whether or not any of them would be accurate.
The Constable stopped, almost midstride and turned to consult with a passing security officer. Kyleea studied his stance, the manner in which he commanded authority without demanding it, and the way he could look at her without looking at her.
The small slit of a glance to his side sent shivers down her spine and quickly she entered the nearest shop. Trying to shake off the feeling that she was still being watched… tracked, it took a moment to process the place she found herself in.
“Ah, and how may I be of assistance?”
His delightfulness was so sincere and transparently fake in the same instant that Kyleea couldn’t help but smile. “I take it this is your shop?”
“A very astute observation, my dear. I’ve always found Trill to be very accomplished in the art of deduction.”
Her smile stayed, amused by his duplicity. “Yes, I’ve rather noticed the same thing about Cardassians.”
“In that case, I have a feeling you’ll appreciate a bolt of Vulcan fabric I’ve been saving for just your sensibilities.”
Her eyes raced over the fabric as he produced it from behind a storage door. The Vulcans themselves were an emotionless people but they had a fine attention to both detail and craftsmanship. Intricate patterns revealed themselves only under the subtlest changes in light, the fabric a silver not-quite-shimmer under the shop’s lighting.
“You are a man well in tune with his customers, Mister…”
“Please, call me Garak.”
Odo watched as she slipped into Garak’s and wondered how astute she could truly be to think he wouldn’t notice. Not that a visit to Garak’s was automatically cause for concern, but in this case it definitely warranted… interest.
=^=