From: Fabian Alexander <psychon@oocities.com>
Date: Wed, 23 Jul 1997 17:03:31 -0400
Subject: USS CHESAPEAKE: Talk to Me

> ----------------
> CSciO's Quarters
> ----------------
> 
> MD 8.0000
> 
>         Anne stared at the strange Apparition that had so 
> unceremoniously Appeared on her bed as she was about to enter it. At
> least, she reflected calmly, she hadn't been *in* the bed when It had
> Appeared.
> 
>         Her first instinct, of course, was to shriek her head off...
> but perhaps that wouldn't be a good idea... not before her fitrep
> was all filed away, at any rate.
> 
>         Since her first instinct was out of the question, her second
> one clicked into gear.  Now, what was it he had said about...
> 
>         "See-through?" she demanded.  "It's just got a low cut!"
> 
>         "Well... uh... nice nightdress," amended Ensign O'Graeach,
> sounding a bit flustered.  Anne noticed that he seemed 
> oddly disappointed
> 
>         "Bad luck about your jacket," commented Anne.  Perhaps he
> wasn't so bad as some of the others made out... even though Karen
> *had* warned her that he was Bad News.  She sat down on her bed and
> studied the FCO.
> 
>         "That's not the half of it!" cried the Ensign, his voice
> rising in panic.  "It was an IMPORTANT jacket!  It was... it was..."
> 
>         "Why don't you have a seat, Mr. O'Graeach?" asked Anne,
> rather calmly.  "It's not every day you fall through a ventilation
> duct into someone's quarters.  You can sit on that chair there...
> I'll be back in a minute.  I want to Talk with you."
> 
>         She went to the living area and went to the replicator.
> 
>         "Hot chocolate, strong, extra sugar," she ordered.  She was 
> going to need all the artificial fortification she could get.

        While she was gone, Oz considered bolting through the door and
breaking the latest record for 100 meters.  Then again, she *had* left
him
alone, which could mean that she knew something he didn't.  Then again,
maybe she knew he would think she knew something, and actually she was
just
bluffing.  Then again, perhaps she thought he would think she was just
bluffing while actually the door was booby trapped and -

        "I assumed you'd like hot chocolate.", she said.  Oz jumped up
and
rushed to the chair she had pointed out earlier.  "Chocolate...
Hot...yes,
sure !", he stammered.  What was she planning ?  Fattening him up ?

        He took the cup with shaking hands, which instilled a certain
amount of confidence and security in Anne.  Some people were so
obviously harmless that nobody had to fear anything from them.  And
right now Oz made those harmless people look like Arnold
Schwarzenegger.  Anne glanced mentally back on her latest psychometric
test.  This ought to be rather interesting.  She had the feeling that
O'Graeach was the kind of person who, if entering a telephone booth to
change into his secret identity, would probably come out as Clark Kent. 
No
hero potential here. Sipping from her own cup, she studied the FCO for
some
time.  He reminded her of a small, furry animal, shivering at the
slightest
possibility of danger.  How he had made it through the Academy was
beyond
her.

        "Just out of curiousity - what *were* you doing in my air vent
?",
she asked in what she hoped was a soothing voice.

        "I didn't mean to fall in I was just lost after they stole much
jacket and I had been hiding and then I got lost and there were space
rats
and they wanted to eat me and I ran away and found this door and went
through and the floor was gone and I fell and then I went all the way
down
to here and came through the grating and I really wasn't trying to perv
or
peep, HONEST !", he spluttered without pause.

        "I see.", she said, wondering where to tick the box.  Guilt -
high.  Confidence - a shame there were no negative values for
confidence. Nil points, then.

        He stared at her.  I see ?  I see ?  What did she see ?  What
was
it she saw that he didn't ?  And did he want to know ?

        She noticed his panicked face.  Perhaps if she tried to put him
more at ease...Small Talk, perhaps ?

        "So, are you looking forward to meeting your first Corellian ?",
she asked.

        "No.", he replied.  "Non.  Definitly not.  Njet.  Nein."

        "Why not ?", she asked curious.  He did not strike her as the
xenophobic type, but maybe he was simply good at hiding it.

        "I got this thing about snakes.  Can't stand the bloody
blighters.
Makes my skin crawl and my legs go all jelly-like.", Oz admitted. "It's
this scaly skin, and this forked tongue slithering in and out, and those
big, yellow eyes that never blink -" He shivered.

        "How come ?", she asked.

        "When I was - oh, I don't know, shortly before I hit puberty, I
guess, anyway, I had managed to get back home to Earth, except those
stupid
aliens had landed in Egypt, and they thought I was a god.  The natives,
that is."

        "That's not bad, is it ?", she asked.

        He grimaced.  "It is when you are competition to the local god,
pharao, who really didn't like the idea of me being around, even though
I
just wanted to get home.  As it turned out, I couldn't have, because of
time dilation during Faster Than Light travel, and my parents weren't
even
born at that time, but I didn't know that, and anyway, the Pharao wanted
me
dead.  So I got locked into this pyramid full of poisonous snakes. And
they
were crawling all over me, and hissing, and I was scared to death. 
Froze. 
Couldn't move at all.  I was completly paralyzed."  He shivered again in
recollection, his hair standing on end, and his body covered with
goosebumps.

        "That must have been quite a Traumatic Experience for you," said
Anne in her best Counselor-imitation voice (minus, of course, the
fanatical
gleam of morbid interest in the dark details of a repressed childhood). 
She ticked off the Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder box in her mind.  "I'm
actually impressed," she said in her normal voice, "that you managed to
escape unharmed... But, tell me, Mr. O'Graeach... what does that have to
do
with the Corellians?"

        "Well,", he continued, "Corellians got blue, scaly skin, and
those
horrible forked tongues, and they have those read and yellow eyes that
don't blink, but seem to swirl in circles, really hypnotic.  Always
reminded me of that night in the pyramid.  I met them twice.  When they
were less sophisticated.  Hah !  I bet they haven't changed that much.
Bunch of arrogant sadists.  They had never seen a human before. Wanted
to
see how much pain we could withstand, so they got their medical tools
out
and did this experiments where they cut a body open without anesthetics
and
see how long it takes for it to die."

        "You survived *that* ?", Anne asked horrified.

        "Eh - no.  My travel companion was their first specimen.  She
lasted an entire hour.  I could hear her scream.  And scream.  And
scream. 
And it wouldn't stop.  It just went on, and on, and on, and on, until
finally she was to weak to scream."  he had spilled some of his drink,
and
was wiping the drops up with his finger, smearing the cocolate all over
his
white shirt.  "Y'know, I'd really liked her. She was a very nice person. 
She didn't deserve to die like that." 

        "No, she didn't." Anne agreed softly.  She was tempted to get a
paper napkin and wipe the FCO's shirt, but realized that he didn't need
that kind of ministrations from her.  Not yet, anyway.

        He sniffled and blew his nose.  "Second time I met them wasn't
much
better.  Was about, oh, dunno, not more than four hundred years ago,
possibly less.  I had ended up as a slave in a asteroid mine, and the
owner
had gotten himself a team of Corellians as Overseers. Nastiest bunch of
whipwielding sadists I've ever seen.  They were slaves, too, but they
seemed to enjoy their work.  When the slaves revolted they supported the
overlord."

        Anne noticed he had said 'When the slaves revolted', not 'When
we
revolted'.  Either he had not been involved, or he did not think of
himself
as a slave.  Interesting.

        "Basically, every time I see one of those scaly blue guys my
blood
turns to ice.  I can't help it.  i see them, I can't move, and I'm
terrified.", he shrugged embarassed.

        "Well, yes, I can see why you'd be that way," said Anne
carefully.
"I think *I* would go that way myself... and I haven't ever met them.
But... Mr. O'Graeach, they couldn't possibly be like that now... I mean,
I've heard nothing about their reptilian physiology..."

        "They might not have reptilian physiology," the Ensign pointed
out.
 "They sure look it, though."

        "Well, then... ahem... I haven't heard anything of their
reptilian
appearance, either," ventured Anne.  "Look... maybe you've got them
mixed
up with someone else, you think?  I mean, of course I'm sorry that
you've
had to go through all this Traumatic Experience and all that, but maybe
you're working under a false assumption."

        "But, don't you see, it doesn't matter whether or not they've
actually got blue scales!" cried Oz.  "I'll have to leg it no matter
*who* these Corellians really are!  They'll be out to get me!"

        "Excuse me?" Anne thought of ticking off the Paranoia box.

        "I mean, look what happened to me tonight!" He sat up excitedly,
his hands shaking.  His drink would have spilled if so much of it had
not
already covered his formerly white shirt.  "I was sitting there, minding
my
own business, wearing my favorite jacket, when *blam*! With no warning,
my
jacket is *gone*!"

        "True... and I take it you were... uh... responsible for the
temporary Disappearance of the lab rabbit as well." Anne studied him
quietly for a moment or two.  "Thank you for the gift, by the way,"
she said finally.  "I've found it to be quite... interesting.  Where
did you happen to find it?"

        He shrugged uncomfortably.  "I - um - *found* it in the Temple
of
Sethro, on Altos Towr II."

        She raised an eyebrow.  The way he pronounced 'found', and 
emphasized it.  A clear indication of guilt.  "You mean you found it
lying around in a corner ?", she inquired curious.

        "Not...exactly.  It was one of the holy relics, supposedly 
given to the priest by Sethro herself, and kept on this golden pillow,
behind locked doors.  I - I just wanted to have a look at it.", Oz said,
not actually lying, although bending the truth a bit.  "And then things
went badly wrong - as usual - and I was running for my life, and I just
forgot to give it back.  And then there wasn't anyone to give it back
to." 
Again, he was not actually lying, just 'forgetting' to mention certain
things.  Such as the fact that the missing egg had caused the three
factions in the temple to accuse each other of stealing it and then
somehow
triggered a civil war.  But he was sure she did not want to know about
that.  She was Mental herself, after all.  And Clarissa had said to be
nice
to her.  "I - um - eh - am glad you like it.", he said finally.

        "I do.", she said.

        There was one of those pauses in which both partners are 
desperatly trying to say something witty to start the conversation
again.

        "Did you...", Oz started.

        "Have you...", Anne said at the same time.  "Sorry.  Go on."

        "No, after you.", Oz grinned, trying to be nice.  "You were 
saying ?"

        "Have you ever been to see our conselor ?", Anne asked.

        "I don't think she likes me.", Oz commented.  "I complimented
her
on her physique, and she suddenly remembered she had to be at the other
end
of the ship right away.", he shrugged.  "She's a shrink, anyway.  It's
no
good hanging around shrinks.  They all got those preconceptions, and try
to
fit you into their idea of normal.  Sorry, I didn't mean to degrade her
or
anything - you two *are* friends, aren't you ?"

        "What makes you think that ?", Anne asked slightly tense.

        "Well, you two have been seen together a fair bit recently.  
She didn't seem to leave your side, sort of.  She doesn't have much of a
social life, does she ?"

        "I wouldn't know.", Anne replied.  "But I have been told she is
a
good counselor."

        "She's a shrink.  You don't go to see shrinks or doctors unless
you
got to.  That is, unless they drag you there screaming and fighting nail
and tooth.  Shrinks - they are all the same.  They tell you you are
paranoid, delusional and need to slow down.  Hah !  They have no idea. 
No
idea at all.  I'm not paranoid !  Paranoid people believe that everybody
is
out to get them.  I don't."

        "No ?", Anne asked amused, remembering very well what he had 
said just a few minutes earlier.

        "No.  I don't believe everyone is out to get me.  I *know*.  
>From experience.  Of course this old shrink in Austria told me it was
because of some childhood trauma which I had repressed.  Repressed ? 
Me ?  I remember very clearly the day I went to see the fairies, and
they turned out to be aliens from another planet looking for specimens
to
collect.  I was five, then.  Then he told me I was paranoid and should
slow
down.  That was half an hour before a bunch of Nazis decided they didn't
like my face.  From what I've heard, he took my advice and got out of
that
country, died in England a bit later."

        "That would have been when ?", she asked curious.

        "I *think* it was around 1937 or so.  Maybe 1939.  I'm no good
with
dates.", he shrugged.  "I didn't spend much time there.  Here I am,
running
from the Borg, and every other predatory species in the universe,
finally
manage to get to Earth, my home planet, and what do I end up in ?  A
World
War.  Wild horses couldn't have kept me there. I took the next ship out,
which unfortunately had landed in Africa, but that's another story."  He
grinned.  "Forgive me.  Here I am, rambling on about my wretched life,
when
you haven't got the winning ticket either."

        "What do you mean ?", Anne asked sharply.  Did he know about...

        "Well, you got them students, to start with.  I overheard some
of
them talking a few days ago.  They complained bitterly.  Seems you
didn't
take well to their explosive experiment.", he grinned.  "And then
there's
Karen.  Now, she's cute, but I can't figure out what makes her tick. 
And
rumor got it that your assistant is quite ambitious.  Wish I had one of
those in my department.  But all my people want to do is have sex'n'fun. 
Well, mainly fun.  Except for Ensign Unit, who is currently reading up
on
human mating habits, but that's just a phase. It'll grow out of it.  And
Porom's and Clarissa's idea of fun is blowing up space ships.  Still, I
guess it's annoying if some upstart is trying to take over your job."

        "Well... um... yes..." Anne wasn't quite sure what to think.
"It certainly *is* rather difficult." She wondered if she should bring
up
the fact that Derek Fielding had, in fact, replaced her (temporarily,
according to the Captain) as CSciO, then decided against it.  Oz had
enough
problems of his own.  "And you're quite right... I don't approve of my
students blowing up equipment.  I fail to understand why they should be
so
miffed that I take exception."

        She suddenly remembered Oz's statements of a few minutes
earlier and changed the topic abruptly.

        "You didn't... make a *pass* at the Counselor, did you?!" she
asked, rather nervous.  If only Oz knew...!

        "No, I just said that she looked nice," protested Oz.  "I meant
to
be friendly, that's all... honest!"

        "Hmmm." Anne nodded and looked at the rather interesting person
in
front of her.  "Maybe she's just one of those people who wants others to
see her *internal* self rather than her *external* self," she said
finally.
 "In any case," she said firmly, "I think you should just drop by and
say
hello... without mentioning her looks, of course. And," she said,
holding
up her hand to forestall any protests, "she is *not* a doctor or a
'shrink', as I happen to know.  She is a Counselor, true... and I'm not
inclined to trust members of that dubious profession.  However, I *will*
say this for Counselor Tats-Marush... she is *never* afraid to voice
what
she is thinking, and she isn't as full of useless prattle as others."

        Anne paused, preparing for the Question to beat all Questions.

        "I've noticed a rather peculiar trend in your life, Mr.
O'Graeach," she commented.  "You seem to go from place to place, from
time to time... and you always, *always* seem to end up in some sort
of Disaster.  How is it," she asked solemnly, "that you come so close
to the jaws of death, only to be rescued at the last minute?"

        "Hmmmm ?", he said.  "I never looked at it this way.  I think
it's
because of bad luck."

        "Sorry ?  You lost me there.", she said.  "You survive because
of 
bad luck ?"

        "Have you ever been angling ?", he asked out of the blue.

        <Has she ?  Or does she disapprove of putting hooks into poor
little
animals with tiny brains ?>

<:) Well... I think she'd be the latter... :)>

        "No; as a matter of fact, I haven't.   I fail to see what that
has 
to do with surviving.", she said.

        "Well, with angling it's like this.  It don't matter how bad you 
are, all you need is someone who is even worse than you, and you'll
catch
a-plenty.", Oz explained.  "It's the same with surviving.  You don't
have
to be faster than the lion, you just have to be faster than the other
guy. 
While the lion eats him you escape."

        "Don't you think that's an appalling strategy ?", she inquired.

        "I'm not *planning* it, if that's what you mean.", he defended
himself.  "It just *happens*.  Besides, they are asking for it."

        "Excuse me ?", Anne asked perplexed.

        "Me, I'm a coward.  I know I am.  It's why I'm still alive.  
Something dangerous comes my way, I run.  Your average hero, though, and 
the universe is full of them, thinks that their Cause is the most 
important thing in the universe.  Dunno.  Rescue The Princess.  Save The 
Planet. Freedom For All.  They just don't get it that you can pick up
five 
new causes at every street corner, but you only got one life.  So they
go 
to slay the dragon, or fight the oppressive regime, or whatnot, and get 
killed." 

        "I don't think that's *quite* correct.", she said.  "Don't you 
think without those people society might stagnate ?"

        "Hey, they can go and sacrifice their life, if they want to. 
Just 
as long as nobody asks me to do the same.", he shrugged.  "I just happen 
to like myself the way I am - alive."

        "There are many cowards, but very few would survive a
Disaster.", 
she pointed out.

        "Well, I dunno.  I really don't.  I mean - yes, now that you 
mention it, I *did* survive until now, and things were usually really
bad, 
but, I haven't got a clue why.", he said uncertain.  "I really don't." 
He 
shook his head puzzled.  "I usually don't get 'rescued', I just end up
in 
another disaster.  Out of the frying pan, into the fire, and from there 
into another frying pan.  And then sometimes the two disasters meet 
head-on, and I can escape while they fight it out.  Like, when I escaped 
from the Borg and ran into the Marauders, and the Borg tracked me down 
just as the Marauders wanted to kill me for fun, and while they were 
slaughtering each other I 'borrowed' one of the Marauder ships and got
the 
hell out of there.  And a lot of good it did me.  I got boarded by
pirates 
who dumped me on a jungle planet inhabited by flesh eating plants.  Last 
thing I saw of the pirates was this huge Marauder ship turning up behind 
them and blowing it into the seven netherhells."

        He shook his head.  "I don't know.  I always assumed the gods 
didn't like me.  You can't call it a life, can you ?  Running from
planet 
to planet, away from nearly every army in the galaxy, chased by every
predatory alien, going from disaster to catastrophe - it just ain't
right."

        He blew his nose again.  Anne felt the desire to give him a new
handkerchief.  She could have ignored the burn holes in it, but not the
fact that it had probably not been washed since 1939, or whenever he had
picked it up.

        "Here, Mr. O'Graeach," she said, listening to her inner voice.
She handed him a new handkerchief.  "Maybe I'm upsetting you too much...
and it's getting rather late.  Perhaps you should go to bed."

        He nodded.  It *was* getting rather late, and he felt rather
upset,
which was a new feeling.  He normally managed not to think too much
about his life, what with things trying to kill him and so.  He felt
like going to bed and having a good cry, feeling a bit sorry for
himself.  He had been told it was a Good Thing for men to cry.  And he
*did* have a bit to cry about.  All those people he had met and liked
and lost.  Most of them in rather messy accidents.  He sniffled again. 
Yes, with Clarissa on duty, he'd Remember his dead friends, as they had
taught them in the Academy.  It was one of the things he could still
remember from the Counseling Course.

        Turning at the door he blew his nose on Annes handkerchief and
turned. 
"Thanks for the hankie.", he said, waving it around.  "And for the
talk.  I appreciate it...I think."

        She heard him sniffle down the corridor, then the doors closed.

        Anne put her empty cup down.  It was time to go to bed.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Joint written by
Masako                  Fabian
Lt. Anne Murray         Ens. Ozwald O'Graeach
CSciO                   FCO
--------------------------------------------------------------------------

'A crisis is when you can't say "Let's forget the whole thing".'

------------------------------------------------------------------------

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