Mind The Gaps, Part 2

Posted on Fri Nov 28th, 2014 @ 9:50pm by Commander Rylie Cattmor & Lieutenant Jensen Foster

4,270 words; about a 21 minute read

Mission: What Dreams May Come
Location: Holodeck Two

Excerpt from "Mind The Gaps, Part 1"

Looking to change the subject, "So," Rylie said, finally picking up the courage to begin something which was her idea to start anyway, "how do you propose we do this thing?"


And now the continuation...


Jensen turned to Rylie, calm once again, and collected, he responded, "Well, we have three options. First, we could create an empathic bond that would allow me to act as a sounding board for you. Secondly, we could create a telepathic link, one in which we are both sounding board and reactor. Third option, we just wing it." He smiled jokingly at that last bit.

"If we are going to attempt the empathic bond, we'll need to create a physical link, like, hands touching - palm to palm - or by pressing our foreheads together. Either will work fine, but the forehead method is normally reserved for those whom you've been... intimate with." Jensen felt himself blushing and almost had the urge to laugh at himself. He continued though as if he'd never stopped, "As for the telepathic link, that would have to be your doing. You're the telepath after all. Though if you have any ideas, I'm more than willing to experiment here."

In truth, Rylie was not sure which option she would prefer going with. After all, they were both empaths, just that Jensen was a lot more powerful and practised than she was, but her past experiences rarely, if ever, went according to plan. She also didn't relish turning her mind over to another, and never liked the idea of giving up that control. Thinking about it though, a telepathic link was also unfavourable as a first choice. She'd had her fair share, more than her fair share of reading minds, picking out thoughts and even projecting her own onto another being; but an actual link? She'd never really attempted one.

"Well," she started, having a clear train of thought, "even though Betazoids are telepathic, half-Betazoids can normally only do it with other Betazoids. And I've never tried to make an actual two way connection with anyone before; I don't know how that would go. I've always liked to have a plan first too, so let's try the empathic thing first."

"All right," Jensen said, placing his hands palms up out in front of himself, "please, sit down and we'll get started."

Rylie sat back down on the couch next to Jensen and took a deep breath. As they linked their hands, she closed her eyes and attempted to relax, feeling Jensen's empathic probe almost caressing her temples, trying to find a way in. She momentarily tightened her eyes further before relaxing them again, sensing Jensen's mind still trying to slip past her natural defences. She tried to breathe normally and went through the motions of uncomfortably blinking her eyes again, despite them still being shut, and her head twitched nervously in a huge effort to open, or at the very least unlock the gate; but even her habit of biting her lower lip was not distracting enough; she just couldn't let go. "I'm sorry," she said in a genuinely apologetic tone, as she opened her eyes again, and took her hands back.

Finding himself hitting a wall every time he attempted to make the link, Jensen realized that there was no way to make the connection, Rylie's mental shields were just too strong. He opened his eyes and broke contact with her.

"I can't do it, I can't let go;" she said, "I don't like giving up control. From what I can remember, everyone in my past has controlled me at one time or another, even Starfleet to a point." She said, standing. "And when it comes to my mind, I can't let that happen any more. The time I spent working with my government, if you got distracted and let another into your head, one of two things happened; either you were dead, or you spent the rest of your life sucking all your meals through a straw."

"No need to apologize, I understand." Jensen smiled at her, if only to reassure her and allay any feelings of guilt.

Cattmor sighed. She desperately wanted this to work, something to work. "What about a telepathic link-up? That way, I can at least be in a better position to control the connection. That is, if that's acceptable to you?"

"I think we should give that a try. And if it doesn't work, at least we tried to do something. And if nothing works, I'd like to at least continue meeting like this, maybe just having someone to talk to would be nice every once in a while?" He reached for his tea then and took a sip. "I know that I could use someone to talk to, who can relate, well kind of relate." He chuckled a bit after that. While they did have similar problems, what caused those problems were completely different abilities.

Her coffee was now almost cold, but Rylie took a drink regardless, "One step at a time." she stated calmly, then sat down on her seat, leaned back and closed her eyes again. Jensen's thoughts came into clear focus, from the time he was seven, when his own abilities took hold, to the time he joined Starfleet. A lot of Jensen's thoughts at the moment seemed to centre around his past, and his past relationships, his brother mostly; the two of them camping with their parents at grounds not far from Lake Cataria on Betazed, the stability that James afforded his brother whenever they were in each others orbit. Then it dawned on her that he was purposely emitting those thoughts, to help ground the connection in the vein they were trying to do themselves. "Try not to push or force it so much," she said quietly, "just let your mind wander."

Rylie tried her hardest to establish a connection between them, even though in truth, she had no idea how to do it. "Gwyn," she said slowly picking up on a thought coming closer to the surface, "you met him on Risa of all places. Tell me about him."

"He was the young Starfleet cadet I met when my family was on holiday my last year of high school. I didn't expect anything to happen during those three weeks, but when I met Gwyn, something just... fell into place." Jensen smiled softly, his face lighting up a bit with the remembered happiness and thrill of his first love.

"He was Deltan, and so had similar empathic abilities to my own. The only difference was that his ability could ease one's suffering and pain, while mine... well, you know how active my ability is," he paused for a second and then continued, "We started out just conversing and getting to know one another, I'd never imagined I could fall in love with him. But before I knew it, I was feeling that rush of excitement and pure happiness you get when you're about to see that one person who makes your heart beat fast and hands sweat. That's how he made me feel each and every time I got to be around him. Then, one night, over a moonlit picnic I'd devised, we confessed how we both felt for each other. And it was one of the best nights of my life. However, our happiness was to be short lived, for the next day he had left Risa, he and his family having to leave due to a death in the family."

He smiled again, only this time the smile staying a bit longer than before, and he finished with, "I've always held onto the memory of Gwyn, for it's been the only one that didn't end in tragedy caused by my abilities."

Hearing Jensen talk about his first true love, she took that opportunity to slip through the side door into Jensen's mind and figuratively take a seat there. As soon as he'd told her the story, she asked a testing question, "Who was my first?"

Wondering why she would ask that question, he suddenly felt slightly stupid when he got a mental flash of a man's appearance. Rugged, yet handsome, he owned a stocky figure, if a little round in the middle, slightly covered by a long, brown leather duster jacket. Following on the heels of the vision, Jensen heard in an almost whispered tone: Callum. Knowing he didn't have to speak aloud to her, but feeling compelled to none-the-less, he inquired, "Was his name Callum?"

Hearing his name again, Rylie smiled at the thought of Callum; like what James was to Jensen, Callum was Rylie's anchor point, her centre of gravity for her life on Athera. She was never able to find out what happened to him after she graduated from the Psionic Academy, the inhibitor wiping all knowledge of him and his subsequent part in her rescue from the criminal underground. Although a lot of time had passed, life changing for the both of them if he happened to still be alive, she missed him. There was no way to call Callum a true love interest; the age gap between them was too great, maybe fifteen years, and at the point where they had been introduced, he was her saviour, the person who rescued her from the terrible underground of her home. He was essentially a situational crush, and one that in a way she still held on to. He was a good man, a hero to her, and ultimately was the answer that she was expecting, and hoping for.

"Yes, it was." Rylie said quietly, trying not to break any link that had now been obviously established. "Or that was who I was thinking of. I doubt that you could call him a first love or anything." She closed her eyes tighter as too much talking on her part was distracting her from maintaining the link between them. Let's try something else, she said telepathically, When I was nine, and my father finally took me on a tour of one of his businesses; what happened?

Answering her, Jensen replied, You were left in his office for hours while he went away to take care of something that had come up within one of his businesses. It was strange, how this was working. He'd normally only been able to telepathically communicate with his brother, mother, or other Betazoids. When other telepathic races were involved, he could sense them in his mind, but he couldn't see into their minds or communicate telepathically. This was the first occurrence of such an incident. He could see her memory as clearly as if it were one of his own.

Cattmor was slightly surprised herself at how well this was actually working, and that they were able to make the connection at all. It was then though, feeding the the memory into Jensen's mind, when the situation started getting a little hazy...

~~~~

"Listen kitty cat," Lucius Cattmor said as he pulled Rylie up on his knee in his study. "I've been told that I was not a very gracious host yesterday, and that I need to make it up to you. So there's something I need to say, and to show you."

"You don't have to, Daddy." Rylie said innocently. "I know how important and private your businesses are to you."

Lucius smiled, "Oh do you?" he said with mock surprise. "Well, perhaps this shouldn't come as so much of a shock to you then my dear, but you are more important than any of my ventures, even my very life." He paused, a darkness closing over his face before continuing, "What will most definitely shock you though, is this." he finished, pressing a control dimming the lights, and turning the holo-vid on to the news story which Rylie only glimpsed the previous night...

"The authorities and the secure-cam footage have already confirmed that this is the work of terrorist actions, even though as yet, no-one has come forward to claim responsibility for this act of terror and sabotage..."

"Daddy, that looks like one of your factories..." Rylie said slightly confused, interrupting the video playback as the reporter went on.

"Just watch." her father said quietly while the playback continued.

The reporter continued, "This footage was provided by the Cattmor Security Council, and is confirmed as being external recordings of their manufacturing and production plant located on the outskirts of the city of Draylan, and is reportedly where the popular four-twenty vehicles are made." Suddenly, the video switched to an external view of the plant, where a huge explosion formed near the back of the image, explosions pulsating closer toward the camera almost blinding it's night-vision capabilities, until the final explosion practically rocked the room, making Rylie jump, which is where Lucius Cattmor stopped the feed.

A moment of silence hung in the air before anyone spoke. "What happened?" Rylie asked quietly.

"The majority of the factory was destroyed in that explosion." Lucius started, letting that sink in a little, even for his own benefit, as the footage still hard to see. "As you saw, it happened while it was still dark, around five in the morning. That's why I had to leave you in my office yesterday, and why the tour was cut short, or at the very least, not exactly what you had wanted." He paused and took a breath, taking in the expression on his nine-year old's face. "There are a lot of things going on Rylie, terrible things, and people are getting anxious, and desperate."

"They just want to make things better for themselves."

"And I'm all for that, because of you, you know I am. They just go about it in the wrong way. That's why we do what we do; so that things like this" he said motioning to the held image of the explosion, "don't happen. Eighteen people lost their lives yesterday, because of this."

Rylie just sat there, unable to steal her gaze from the images of destruction, thinking about the deaths evident...

...which then morphed into another painful memory, this time from Jensen, as she instinctively reached up to her temples --

~~~~

It was such a peaceful night, and it was fitting that it was night, when the war with the Dominion war entered its darkest hour. No-one thought it possible, not even probable that the Dominion would or could be so bold as to strike so deep within Federation territory. But then that was before the Breen got involved.

The Breen; one of the enigmas of the Alpha quadrant. One of the quiet ones, and as the old adage went, it's always the quiet ones that you have to look out for, the quiet ones that are the most dangerous and unpredictable. Couple that with the personality traits of secrecy rivalling the Romulans, cunning paralleling the Ferengi, and the tactical prowess and ferocity matching the Klingons, backed by the daring of the Cardassian Dominion Alliance, and it all made for a devastating combination.

Darkness was broken, the peace shattered by a huge explosion on Betazed's capital of Rixx; the council buildings destroyed within the first few volleys of an orbital bombardment which on another occasion may have looked beautiful. Fire streaked the heavens as the bombardment continued and intensified, the night sky emblazoned by the bright orange fires and explosions, as it seemed like nearby asteroids were plucked from orbit and cast down to wreak destruction on the surface.

While the planet's gravitational spin took the capital out of the immediate firing line, this was only a tiny reprieve before Dominion soldiers started transporting to the surface. Mainly consisting of Jem'Hadar shock troops, littered with Cardassian and Breen forces, they made short work in the rounding up of officials, putting down any resistance, and securing tactical holdings. The defense of Betazed stood little chance.

Awaking with a start, ten-year old Jensen practically sprang up to sitting straight in his bed, his eyes casting fearfully about the muted darkness. Explosions could still be heard in the distance getting increasingly quieter, though not by much, like dissipating rolling thunder. Without rain, the storm made little sense, and noticing the faint gleam of uncharacteristic orange light appearing earlier than the dawn, he felt afraid. His breathing became labored as he bordered on hyperventilation as he huddled in his bed, wrapped up in his sheets, frozen, too scared to move or even utter a sound. Suddenly, desperate shouting could be heard coming from just up the street, followed by weapons fire, commotion, and screams. He wanted to call for one of his parents, his twin even, but no sound could escape his lips.

It was a good thing then that his father came bursting into his room carrying his school backpack, activated the lights at full brightness, and approached his bedside, "Jensen, focus... focus on me. We have to leave," he was saying urgently, through his own fear coupled with his father's and other members of his family in other parts of the house, his father's words almost fell on deaf ears. "Son, are you listening? We have to get out of here, now."

"Now?" Jensen asked timidly, scared out of his wits.

"Yes, now, right now!" His father replied sharply, all the while the screams and weapons fire in the town getting closer, "Grab some clothes and put them in here," he said handing Jensen the satchel. "Your mother's already grabbing food and other supplies --"

Jensen's eyes grew a little wider than they already were, "What's going on, where are we going?" he asked quickly.

"Never mind right now, just move." his father stated resolutely, not having any interruptions.

"Where's James?" Jensen wantingly asked, before calling, "James!"

"Shh, keep your voice down, your uncle's already sorting out James, your mother has the supplies, and I have you, now move!" he shouted in a hushed tone ripping the covers off Jensen's bed before continuing to collect things ready for packing.

Just before they were done, his mother called from the lower level of the abode, "What's taking so long, the Jem'Hadar are already at the end of the street."

And then his Uncle Torias bent his frame through the doorway, "James is ready, we have to get out of here through the basement tunnel, next door are already on their way."

Suddenly a loud crash came from downstairs and Jensen heard his mother scream before her protests got muffled and quieter. They all rushed down the stairs finding a team of Jem'Hadar soldiers just crossing the threshold to their front door, their weapons poised for a fight, but not firing. The five of them were dragged outside where the gunfire and screams had been replaced with quiet whimpering, as the population of their small community was led out of the town toward the city, the distant glow of fires burning brightly on the horizon as they headed to the capital.

Suddenly, his uncle spun on his heel, attacking the Jem'Hadar closest to the family group. His death was quick at the hands of the soldier, doubly so at the hands of another protecting his comrade firing a burst from his rifle. Jensen's mother took the incident the hardest, watching her own and only brother be slain with such violent ease; she screamed until she had no more air to expel from her lungs, the frightful emotions washing ten-fold over Jensen, his own voice crying out replacing his mother's, "Noooooo!"

The pent up emotional outburst from Jensen had the unknown and almost uncontrolled result of permanently immobilizing the soldier who first put down his uncle; his body spinning so violently it broke his neck. Most of the people in the nearby vicinity also lost their footing, before explosions rung out of the buildings on either side of the street they were being led down; doors and windows bursting out into the road, small flames licking at the frames.

...

The fall of Betazed would forever be labelled as one of the lowest points of the entire war, and for some, a painful reminder of just how close the Federation came to defeat. For the thousands that died on Betazed that night, the casualties and damage was thankfully kept to a minimum -- government buildings, Starfleet and other militia forces installations, and communication stations were the hardest hit, while most of the civilian structures; homes, shops, hospitals, schools, were relatively untouched--

--which the same could not be said for others, on the backbone of a brand new memory, never before remembered...

~~~~

Lightning like blue fire streaked across the night sky, the loud boom of the subsequent thunder practically shook the ground and made her own lookout vibrate.

To their credit, the Marines were holding back on the flank, not moving in until they were given the order to. Rylie had already activated her stealth shielding of her form fitting suit, and was undetectable to the naked eye if it wasn't for the incessant rain pelting down in large sheets; it was just her skill at her job which kept her from being pin-pointed by the sentry towers, as she stood on the roof of an adjacent bunker to the building she now watched with keen interest--her objective.

She slid silently down the ladder on the outside of the building and ran full pelt to the hangar. Accessing the code storage device, she tapped the controls of the door entering the code she picked out of one of the guards' minds, and the security seal disengaged allowing her access, to which she obliged with cat-like grace into the dark corridor. She hated wearing it, but she couldn't see much without her mask, as she continued down, marking points along the way and attaching small explosive devices which fizzled out to invisibility as soon as they were laid. Continuing on for the next two hours, she saw relatively few people, certainly not as many as anyone would expect in a military installation, even a rogue one.

Rylie went on not thinking too much about the minutiae of her role in the operation, she was there to do a job, to facilitate mass confusion to enable the Marines to go in and retake the installation with minimal casualties on their side. Which was another thing she hated, working with the military. They treated her, and those like her with disdain, never trusting them, and attempting to make telepaths a secondary class, not much more than cannon fodder, a tool to get the job done.

Her suit took an awful lot of power, too much to use communications while it was in operation. Touching the control, she rematerialised just as someone came out of a side room. Turning and seeing her, knowing full well what she was by her clothing, he raced to set off the alarm. For a split second, Cattmor thought that odd - why not just shoot her instead? A split second later, before he reached the switch, she'd already pulled out her large calibre P-220 pistol complete with silencing aid, and shot him in the shoulder blade, catapulting him to the ground about two metres shy of the alarm. Then it dawned that he wasn't wearing a military uniform under his jacket. She approached the man now writhing in agony on the floor, reached down pulling him over onto his back while training her pistol right up to his head.

"Why are you here?" the man asked in laboured gasps.

Rylie just reached for her communication unit and called to the reinforcements waiting outside, "It's done, Major; you're all clear."

"What have you done?" the man shouted as loud as he could just as the first explosion sounded, lighting up the end of the hallway in bright orange and yellow hues. "What the hell have you done?" he repeated, Rylie's pistol still attached to his head, her face virtually expressionless. "This is a hospital you flicking government..." he said something else but there was another explosion about twenty metres away, the sound drowning out any insult it may have been. "There are women and children here, for..." And Rylie pulled the trigger, crimson blood smacking and stippling the floor behind his head.

The next explosion sounded behind her as she got a knotting pain in her stomach, and she looked up to see a female patient in a hospital robe attempt to flee before another explosion went off, and Gauss rifle spikes ripped through her torso as the Marines came storming in. This wasn't a military base at all, it was a hospital; she'd just set up a raid and massacre of a damn hospital. "Mummy!!" a little girl screamed just before the still flaming ceiling collapsed on her attempting to get to her mother...

Shut it off, shut the flicking thing off. she shouted clutching at the sides of her head.

Rylie ran, only to get caught in another explosion, part of the building structure collapsing down on her, pummelling her to the ground. Another beam came crashing down bringing other debris with it connecting neatly with Rylie's skull.

~~~~

She gasped in pain, still pressing her palms into her head, her knees now on the floor as she went down from her seat opposite Jensen. "Shut it off, get out, get out, GET OUT!!!" she screamed unable to break the connection the two of them were sharing, it seemingly causing some sort of feedback loop between both their minds.


...to be continued.

 

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