IKC FHew 7C6110
Marie's Mind – Wake up call
by HoD Ro' Matlh & Soghla' Marie St. Helene
Post Details
The walls were not white, but a muted colour that schools, hospitals and prisons are often painted to encourage the inmates to remain calm. The bed she was lying on was comfortable, if a little firm. The clothes she wore, a simple shirt and pants of muted tan, were soft but felt oddly thin on her. The one window in the room spilled daylight in through slatted blind onto the bare floor. There was a small table and two chairs. She was dimly aware of the sound of birds.
"Good morning, Marie," a voice said quietly. Her mind sharpened and she was aware of a figure in blue Starfleet uniform sitting in one chair. He looked Vulcan, and sat with one leg folded over the other and a PADD in his hands.
"Do you know where you are?"
Marie looked around. “No,” she answered simply.
He made a note. "Do you know who you are?"
“Marie St. Helene.”
Another note. "Do you know who I am?"
The Vulcan was not known to her. She studied his impassive visage and a sudden impulse came to her to tease him. “Ambassador Spock?” she asked.
"Hardly," the other answered drily. "I am Counselor Tem Par and this is the Moonshadow rehabilitation center. You were brought here after the destruction of your home on Nouvelle Nouvelle Calédonie. Do you remember your home?"
“Of course I remember Nouvelle Nouvelle Caledonie; I was born and grew up there.” What a stupid question, she thought. As if I could forget that barbaric hell-hole. “I haven’t been there in decades though and, in case you’re wondering, I have no wish to return either.”
Another note.
"When the USS Hope found you, you were dissociative and delusional. You have remained in this delusional state almost consistently ever since, some three years now. In your more lucid moments you talk about a ship, a Klingon vessel of all things, the FHew. Do you remember the FHew."
“Yes, I remember the FHew. Just one of the more salubrious postings I’ve enjoyed in my eventful life.”
Tem sighed, "Ms St Helene, I am going to tell you something that will likely cause you to retreat from reality again. However, if you are ever to reintegrate it is necessary."
"Three years ago there was a Breen attack on Nouvelle Nouvelle Calédonie. By the time Starfleet got there the colony was stripped. Only a handful of people survived, including you. You were rescued by the crew of the USS Hope, but you had already retreated into a semi conscious delusional state in an attempt to protect yourself from the horror that you witnessed."
Typical Starfleet, Marie thought. They never were much use to us. We only saw them when some Admiral wanted a photo opportunity for the news services. Probably there was a promotion on the line or some such.
"I must commend you on the completeness of the illusion, from what snippets I have gleaned it is quite comprehensive. However, I think that you will find, in time, that each of the crew, and indeed the ship itself, are phantasms; Illusions created out of your mind's need for stability. With your home and family gone, you have invented a new family who will accept and protect you. They are a small, close knit community who are strong enough to survive anything. The appeal is obvious."
That sounded reasonable except for one minor fact; Marie had never known a stable family life on Nouvelle Nouvelle Calédonie. Hell, she hadn’t known much of a family life at all. Her father had walked out not long after she was born and she had no memory of him. She had never been close to her mother. The only thing vaguely resembling a family had been the gangs she ran with and even that was nebulous at best.
"I believe each of the characters means something specific to you; that they have a role to play in protecting your psyche. Indeed the ship itself has become an artifact representation of yourself, seen from safe inside. Would you be willing to discuss the crew with me in detail?"
If we must, Marie thought. She nodded.
"Let's start at the top then. You have often referred to a Captain figure named Cod Row Mat-leth. Can you tell me about him?"
“Sure that isn’t God ‘Ro?” Marie asked sarcastically. “Oh, alright,” she said, seeing the impassive look on Par’s face. “ ‘Ro is an old Klingon. Klingons don’t like being old. By and large, they’d prefer to be killed in glorious combat while still young and virile. As a result, he’s hell bent on going out honourably while he still can. If that means taking us with him, well...all the more glory to share around. Hardly what I’d call a loving father figure.”
"And yet," Tem responded carefully, "He is a figure of safety and security. One who is indomitable; an important trait, given what you have been through. A species that is known to hate the Breen, and also able to run and hide when necessary."
"Interesting also that you label him as a father figure. He is distant, as your own father was, even abusive, but this one is filled with genuine concern for you. He is able to acknowledge you, value you, recognize your success where your real father could not. He is also the protector of the group, strong and a reputation for never being defeated."
"In him you have a combination between the father you lost and the ideal father who you desire."
That made absolutely no sense to Marie. Her father had been absent, not distant; even Marie understood the difference between the two words. As for ‘Ro being a figure of safety and security, she’d lost count of the number of times he’d wantonly put the crew’s life in danger. As for ‘run and hide’, Par either did not know Klingons or it was him who was delusional, not her.
“The only person ‘Ro Matlh has any concern for,” she told Par, “is ‘Ro Matlh. No, I’ll amend that. The only thing he has any concern for is regaining his lost honour and glory. He would sacrifice anyone and everyone – including himself – to achieve that end.”
Tem stood from his chair, "We have spoken enough for now. Perhaps if you are feeling up to it, we might take a wander around the grounds tomorrow."
Marie nodded acceptance of the offer. What harm could it do? It was either put up with Par’s endless questions here or outside; at least outside presented a change of scenery.
by HoD Ro' Matlh & Soghla' Marie St. Helene
Post Details
| Title | Wake up call | |
| Mission | Marie's Mind | |
| Author(s) | HoD Ro' Matlh & Soghla' Marie St. Helene | |
| Posted | Tue Dec 24, 2013 @ 12:10am | |
| Location | Moonshadow Institute, Federation Psychiatric Facility |
"Good morning, Marie," a voice said quietly. Her mind sharpened and she was aware of a figure in blue Starfleet uniform sitting in one chair. He looked Vulcan, and sat with one leg folded over the other and a PADD in his hands.
"Do you know where you are?"
Marie looked around. “No,” she answered simply.
He made a note. "Do you know who you are?"
“Marie St. Helene.”
Another note. "Do you know who I am?"
The Vulcan was not known to her. She studied his impassive visage and a sudden impulse came to her to tease him. “Ambassador Spock?” she asked.
"Hardly," the other answered drily. "I am Counselor Tem Par and this is the Moonshadow rehabilitation center. You were brought here after the destruction of your home on Nouvelle Nouvelle Calédonie. Do you remember your home?"
“Of course I remember Nouvelle Nouvelle Caledonie; I was born and grew up there.” What a stupid question, she thought. As if I could forget that barbaric hell-hole. “I haven’t been there in decades though and, in case you’re wondering, I have no wish to return either.”
Another note.
"When the USS Hope found you, you were dissociative and delusional. You have remained in this delusional state almost consistently ever since, some three years now. In your more lucid moments you talk about a ship, a Klingon vessel of all things, the FHew. Do you remember the FHew."
“Yes, I remember the FHew. Just one of the more salubrious postings I’ve enjoyed in my eventful life.”
Tem sighed, "Ms St Helene, I am going to tell you something that will likely cause you to retreat from reality again. However, if you are ever to reintegrate it is necessary."
"Three years ago there was a Breen attack on Nouvelle Nouvelle Calédonie. By the time Starfleet got there the colony was stripped. Only a handful of people survived, including you. You were rescued by the crew of the USS Hope, but you had already retreated into a semi conscious delusional state in an attempt to protect yourself from the horror that you witnessed."
Typical Starfleet, Marie thought. They never were much use to us. We only saw them when some Admiral wanted a photo opportunity for the news services. Probably there was a promotion on the line or some such.
"I must commend you on the completeness of the illusion, from what snippets I have gleaned it is quite comprehensive. However, I think that you will find, in time, that each of the crew, and indeed the ship itself, are phantasms; Illusions created out of your mind's need for stability. With your home and family gone, you have invented a new family who will accept and protect you. They are a small, close knit community who are strong enough to survive anything. The appeal is obvious."
That sounded reasonable except for one minor fact; Marie had never known a stable family life on Nouvelle Nouvelle Calédonie. Hell, she hadn’t known much of a family life at all. Her father had walked out not long after she was born and she had no memory of him. She had never been close to her mother. The only thing vaguely resembling a family had been the gangs she ran with and even that was nebulous at best.
"I believe each of the characters means something specific to you; that they have a role to play in protecting your psyche. Indeed the ship itself has become an artifact representation of yourself, seen from safe inside. Would you be willing to discuss the crew with me in detail?"
If we must, Marie thought. She nodded.
"Let's start at the top then. You have often referred to a Captain figure named Cod Row Mat-leth. Can you tell me about him?"
“Sure that isn’t God ‘Ro?” Marie asked sarcastically. “Oh, alright,” she said, seeing the impassive look on Par’s face. “ ‘Ro is an old Klingon. Klingons don’t like being old. By and large, they’d prefer to be killed in glorious combat while still young and virile. As a result, he’s hell bent on going out honourably while he still can. If that means taking us with him, well...all the more glory to share around. Hardly what I’d call a loving father figure.”
"And yet," Tem responded carefully, "He is a figure of safety and security. One who is indomitable; an important trait, given what you have been through. A species that is known to hate the Breen, and also able to run and hide when necessary."
"Interesting also that you label him as a father figure. He is distant, as your own father was, even abusive, but this one is filled with genuine concern for you. He is able to acknowledge you, value you, recognize your success where your real father could not. He is also the protector of the group, strong and a reputation for never being defeated."
"In him you have a combination between the father you lost and the ideal father who you desire."
That made absolutely no sense to Marie. Her father had been absent, not distant; even Marie understood the difference between the two words. As for ‘Ro being a figure of safety and security, she’d lost count of the number of times he’d wantonly put the crew’s life in danger. As for ‘run and hide’, Par either did not know Klingons or it was him who was delusional, not her.
“The only person ‘Ro Matlh has any concern for,” she told Par, “is ‘Ro Matlh. No, I’ll amend that. The only thing he has any concern for is regaining his lost honour and glory. He would sacrifice anyone and everyone – including himself – to achieve that end.”
Tem stood from his chair, "We have spoken enough for now. Perhaps if you are feeling up to it, we might take a wander around the grounds tomorrow."
Marie nodded acceptance of the offer. What harm could it do? It was either put up with Par’s endless questions here or outside; at least outside presented a change of scenery.