Run in the Brig

Posted on Thu Feb 7th, 2019 @ 5:55am by

Mission: Run Afoul
Location: The Brig
Timeline: MD 11 - 2100 Hours
2562 words - 5.1 OF Standard Post Measure

Tarria walked out of the bar with a pad. She was on her way to the brig. She had heard from talks around the ship Stef was taken to the Brig. She could only imagine how the young man felt. First being brought to sickbay for accidentally shooting himself, being a bit unstable emotionally and then being taken away by security. She had made some calming, chamomile tea for him.

As she walked in to the brig area she saw an Ensign standing on guard. She never met the man yet, but she knew he was Ensign Wexler. "I am counselor Tarria Sh'ezhinnir. I know I tend the bar too, but I was requested by Doctor Adamson to counsel young master Stef. I would like to speak with him." She requested friendly as she plastered a warm smile on her blue face.

Wilfred wasn't sure if she meant inside the brig or if we should speak to him from outside the forcefield. "Ah, go ahead. he's right there." He pointed to the only occupant in the brig.

Hearing his name, Stef sat up, a layer of several blankets wrapped around his shoulders. He'd been trying to sleep but the best he could achieve so far was just trying to relax as much as possible.

Tarria walked to the brig. "I brought him some chamomile tea. You can check it if you want." She handed the thermos to Wilfred. She walked to the force field and looked to the young man. Her antennae moving to his direction, still having the smile on her face. "Hello, Stef," She said friendly, "I am Tarria, I am the bartender, and a counselor in my spare time. I was send to you by doctor Adamson." She looked around his cell. "Are environmental controls not working?" She said in remark of the blankets. "Are they treating you well?" Not that she thought Wilfred wasn't treating him well.

"I am treated well," Stef replied calmly, moving carefully towards the forcefield, blankets trailing behind him. "I suspect cells are kept at a cooler temperature to subdue inmates," he added logically, "however as a Vulcan I am used to a warmer climate which means I feel quite cold in an even cooler climate. I already generally feel colder under normal circumstances."

Tarria nodded and took the thermos from Wilfred. "I made you some tea, it might warm you up a little." She turned to Wilfred. "Please lower the force field." She knew Wilfred would protest. She turned around and before he could make his protest she said, "I am an Aenar hybrid, I don't feel threatened by him, please let me go in there with him. He is cold, he can't do anything to me."


Stef took a step back to create some distance. "I could," he corrected, "but I will not." It was technically true, due to his innate Vulcan strength, but he considered himself to be non-violent and preferred not to harm another if he could avoid it. He smiled apologetically. "Nor am I in any condition to ma'am."

She walked closer to the force field. "I know, Stef, I know you could, were you not injured. But even if you weren't I know you wouldn't harm me. I can sense it. I made it a notion not to use my telepathic abilities, but I am still quite emphatic. Don't be afraid." Tarria said as she smiled comforting to him. "Call me, Tarria, I am not in star fleet. I am a civilian. A bartender with a psycho therapy degree. But a civilian none the less."

"Yes ma'am," the teenager replied, offering a faint smile in return. "Are you my counselor ma'am?" Civilian or no, he did need to speak with one, as the doctor had ordered. And he knew there was no Starfleet counselor on board at present. He glanced over at Wexler, giving the man a minute nod while taking another step back to indicate he really wasn't going to try anything.

Wilfred looked inside at the tea and then shrugged, walking back over to the console he pressed a couple of spots on the console and then leaned against it as if bored, watching the other two and making it perfectly clear that he had nothing else to do.

As the force field lowered Tarria walked in and said, "Yes, Stef, I am your counselor." She pointed to the bunk. "Sit down, Stef." She said down on the bunk. The cold in the cell didn't bother her. Actually this was like summer on Andoria for her. But she could understand why the Vulcan was having difficulties.

Obediently, the boy sat, leaning his back against the bulkhead, blankets once more wrapped tightly around his thin frame. "Where do you want me to start?" he asked, because he really wasn't sure what she wanted him to talk about this first time.

"That is up to you," She replied. "What would you like to start with?" She looked to Wilfred a moment. "Would you like to speak to me in confidence? Cause then I have to ask ensign Wexler to leave the room."

"No ma'am. He would not leave anyway as it is his duty to remain here." Stef sighed softly as he shook his head. "I do not know where to start," he admitted, "so much has happened. I am being accused of a terrible crime, and I do not understand why. I managed to shoot myself, and again I wonder how I managed that. I am a novice but surely not that clumsy?"

"Stef," she started, "I sense a lot of emotion in your voice." Her antennae moved towards him. "I never so much with a Vulcan. Do you meditate?" She asked curious. "You don't have to answer that if you feel uncomfortable to talk about it."

"No, I do not meditate. It only causes my mind to wander to where I do not wish it to go. I am emotional because I am trying to find a balance between emotions and logic. Especially after losing my sister, and somehow unlocking telepathic abilities I have always been told I would never develop. Until her death, she and I had no telepathic skill or ability."

"I worked with Vulcans in the past, it is my understanding that Vulcan emotions are far stronger. I have heard of Vulcans like you. It is tricky, and not many Vulcans walk the path that you walk." She was in thought a moment. "Has the loss of your sister effected you in any way?" She continued asking.

Nodding, Stef closed his eyes. "I felt her die. I felt the pain, when she died. I was nowhere near her, it was our first assignment apart. It also overwhelmed me, as at the same time, I could feel what others felt. I could not differentiate between my feelings and those of others. I isolate myself to preserve my sanity."

Beata wandered into the brig to check on Stef but found that there was already someone in the brig with him. Beata did not know this woman and she shyly waited in the wings, trying not to overhear their conversation and wondering if she should just leave.

Tarria nodded and said, "I know what it's like, being a telepath myself." She stopped. She sensed someone else had entered the brig. She didn't know who it was, but she could tell it was someone that cared for Stef deeply. Most likely the person that gave him the blankets. "Who is there?" She asked friendly. She turned to Stef. "Someone came in, do you know who it is? I sense it is someone that cares for you." She had trouble not to go out and probe their minds. She got up and walked away from the bunk and then saw Beata. "Hello?" She smiled to her warmly.

Beata carefully approached but she had a slight frown on her face as she glanced at Stef suspiciously. "Hello," she finally said, facing both of them.

"Bee." The teenager's face lit up as he saw her. Sensing her suspicion, his expression sobered. "What is wrong Bee? This is Tarria, she is a counselor. She is here to help."

"I . . . nothing, I just didn't know if i was interrupting." Beata said somewhat truthfully. She wanted to enter the cell and sit with Stef but again, she didn't know this other woman and didn't know if that would be all right.

"We are in session," Tarria explained, "But it is his session. I am just here to help." She looked to Stef. "It's up to you if you want her to stay or not."

"I would never send her away," Stef answered, eyes never leaving the woman he loved. "You are interrupting yes, but I do not wish for you to leave. I have nothing to hide Bee and I promise you, I am not responsible for the explosion." He turned to Tarria. "I am placed at the site of the engineering explosion, and yes I was there at some point. But I did not know I was carrying an explosive device. I do not understand why someone would do this."

Beata carefully found a spot to sit where she would be near him but felt as if she was not in the way of their conversation. She chose not to answer Stef but knew him to be innocent of this crime.

Stef glanced past her, looking at Wexler. "Can she come in?" he asked carefully, wondering if the guard would let her in at all. He nodded over to Tarria. "I need her here with me," he implored her, "her presence..." He bit his lower lip, feeling his cheeks flush. "...her presence makes me feel better."


Wilfred sighed. "Sure, why not. The more the merrier I guess." He hit the button and then threw up his arms and went and sat down in a corner of the brig.

Beata blushed just as much as Stef. But she smiled brilliantly at him and timidly sat down next to him in the cell.

Tarria nodded. "Whatever makes you feel comfortable." She smiled, "And it is so sweet. So would you like to tell some more about your sister?" She continued asking.

Drawing his free and uninjured arm around her, after putting his tea aside, Stef thought about it for a moment. Finally, he shook his head. "No, I do not yet feel I can talk about her," he said softly, "perhaps in time, but not yet."

"I understand," Tarria replied. "Is there anything else you would like to talk about?"

"I managed to stun myself," Stef started slowly, shaking his head, "and somehow I am a suspect in a terrible crime. Supposedly I left an explosive in engineering, and the thing is that I do believe I did. Except..." The young Vulcan hesitated. "I know nothing about explosives. I did not know what was in the package. I feel confused."

Tarria smiled warmly to him. "I believe you, Stef. But the whole ship is on edge right now because of the explosion, it's easy to point fingers then for the safety of the ship. You should tell them that. Tell them what you know, cause it will help them and it will help you. Now, is there anything I can do for you, Stef?"

"There is nothing to tell them ma'am," the young man answered, clearly frustrated over this, "I do not know who the package comes from, I also do not know who it was intended for. I am not in the habit of checking content either as that would be a breach of privacy." He drew Beata closer to him, drawing comfort from her her precence. "No ma'am, there is nothing you can do for me. I appreciate your visit and I would like to continue to see you. The knowledge that you are available is sufficient to me."

Beata frowned at him, she knew he was frustrated but she also thought speaking to someone might help him heal over his sister, his new found abilities and the constant noise he was subjected to on this ship. She rubbed her thumb across the back of his hand. "You sure there's nothing else you want to talk about?"

"Not at this moment no," Stef assured her. Yes he was frustrated, and scared beyond belief but he really wanted this to be sorted before he would talk about his private affairs with anyone. The stress of being locked up needed to be dealt with first. He looked down at the hand that held his. "Right now I just want to sleep," he added slowly. "I am not feeling well."

"I should go then." Beata said, but she hadn't moved to get up yet. There wasn't room for both of them to sleep on this bench but she thought he might sleep better with her in the room. The thought made her blush for some reason.

HIs hand tightened around hers, indicating she shouldn't go. "Can we talk later?" he asked of the Andorian counselor.

Beata wondered what he was up to but didn't object to remaining where she was. She put her head back against the bulkhead and watched Stef and the new woman.

Tarria nodded to Stef. "Of course, you need the rest. Let me know when you want to talk again. I don't think I am going anywhere now." She smiled to the young couple before she stepped out of the holding cell. She walked passed Wilfred, patting him on the shoulder. "I have no doubt you will take good care of him." She then left the brig.

Watching the exchange, Stef leaned against Beata. "There are things I am not yet ready to talk about," he explained to her, "and there are more immediate concerns that need addressing. But not yet..not until I feel a little better." He gave her a genuine smile that he seemed to reserve only for her. "Your presence makes me feel better," he admitted.

Raising her eyebrows, Beata wondered what things needed addressing right away. It made her slightly nervous but she nodded. "So you want me to stay and sleep here with you?"

"No Bee, I do not want to you sleep here with me. You should sleep in your own quarters, or in mine if you prefer." He nuzzled her hair, taking in her scent as he closed his eyes. "You are not the one confined, I am. And I hope this will all be resolved soon, so I can go home."

She couldn't help but grin, "You'd let me into your quarters when you weren't there?" She was really rather touched by the sentiment. "I can stay here with you for as long as you want me to."

"Why would I not? I trust you Bee, and I have nothing to hide from you." Tilting her face up to him, he kissed her. "I need rest...I need to sleep. Come back later?"

She shook her head. "No, I'll stay with you for a while. Sleep," she said scooting down to the floor in front of the bench.

---

Ensign Beata Lauryl
Operations Officer
USS Majestic
pnpc by Sauilitis

Crewman Apprentice Stef
yeoman/animal caretaker
pnpc Lhaes

Tarria Sh'ezhinnir
Bartender/civilian counselor
pnpc Sandra Adamson

Ensign Wilfred Wexler
Brig Officer
USS Majestic