The Fortress, Part II

Posted on Sat Dec 25th, 2021 @ 12:25am by Fleet Admiral Sturnack & Captain Jocelyn Blake

Mission: Episode 2: 18th and Constitution
Location: Pinetop, Arizona
Timeline: Mission Day 24 at 1900

[The Fortress]
[Pinetop, Arizona]
[MD 24, 1900 Hours]

Were anyone looking on from the outside of the rustic cabin called "The Fortress," it would seem as though it were a normal friendly getaway--two people simply enjoying each other's company and taking the opportunity to escape from the fast pace of the world around them. A large ceramic bowl was half filled with a tangled mass of long, round spaghetti noodles--red sauce coating them while hints of chopped and sautéed vegetables could be seen throughout. A small shaker of a sort of white freeze dried-looking cheese sat next to the bowl along with a platter that had once borne garlic bread. It was simple fare--hearty and easy to make. The latter was why Jocelyn had chosen it.

"So," the redheaded woman was saying as she cleared bowls and water glasses from the dining table's surface, "surely Vulcan children don't simply just arrive in the universe fully versed in good behavior and logical thinking processes." She was down a rabbit hole-style tangent from a conversation they had begun that morning when Sturnack had inquired after Santa Claus as a means to manage childhood behavior. "How do Vulcans encourage good behavior and well developed thinking?" she continued, setting the dishes in the sink before returning for the bowl of spaghetti.

Sturnack, meanwhile, had also risen and offered a staying hand to Jocelyn as he picked up and carried the spaghetti into the cabin's kitchen. As there was plenty of the meal left, he found a suitable container in a cabinet and transferred the noodles, sauce, and vegetables as he spoke. "Vulcan children are taught proper discipline from an exceptionally young age. It goes hand-in-hand," he explained, putting then a cover onto the container, "with the process of teaching them emotional control. By helping children learn to suppress their volatile emotions, temper tantrums and other abhorrent behaviors are curtailed. Though the process is not instant," he admitted, putting the container of spaghetti into the refrigeration unit.

Moving to the sink, Sturnack said, "If you will retrieve the remaining dishes, I will be responsible for washing them. It will not take long." He began then to run hot water, stoppering one side of the sink and adding in a soapy solution. "Given the...penchant," the Vulcan chose his word carefully, "for humans to burst into emotional outcries, I assume human children are not trained in governing their feelings?" In, then, went the spaghetti bowl, plates, and silverware to soak for a few moments. Meanwhile, the Vulcan retrieved a bright yellow pair of rubber gloves from beneath the sink and meticulously put them on, reaching then for a scrubbing wand behind the sink's faucet. He then began to clean, starting with the plates.

"Oh, human children are typically taught emotional control just..." Jocelyn paused, expression thoughtful. Her glass of water was still in her hand as she stood and she brought it to her lips, taking a long sip. "It's not the same... obviously."

She moved into the kitchen behind her host, eying the various drawers and then, shrugging, giving up and opening them at random until she found one that held dish towels. Tossing the end of the towel over her shoulder she moved next to Sturnack at the sink and held out her hand for the first plate so that she could dry it.

"My parents always subscribed to gentle parenting," she remarked thoughtfully. "We talked about emotions a lot and I learned ways to cope with them without outbursts. Sometimes that meant disciplining if I was acting out in a way that wasn't appropriate for my development, but most times it meant learning when emotion was appropriate and with whom it was safe. Acknowledging the emotion for what it is... putting it in its correct place... but experiencing it all the same. Learning to move through it to get to a calmer place."

Plates dried she turned to return them to their cabinet, coming back to take the silverware he proffered. Her fingers brushed the yellow gloved hand that held them out to her a moment and she paused for the briefest of moments before transferring them to the hand holding the towel. "I think it comes down to what you think governing feelings means."

"For Vulcan children," Sturnack replied, "experiencing the emotion is not optimal. To experience the emotion is to subsume yourself to it. Even as adults, we often...feel things," he admitted, "but when an emotional response begins to form, we are taught to banish the emotion entirely. It is like putting up a sudden wall that encompasses the emotion and then hurtling it away. The result is a placid state of mind devoid of feelings. Children must be taught to do this at a very early age because Vulcan emotions are so volatile," Sturnack explained.

With the dishes now washed and dried -- thanks to there being so few to wash to begin with -- the Vulcan drained the water from the sink, rinsing the soap bubbles down the drain. He then dried the excess moisture with a hand towel and admired his and Jocelyn's handiwork. "As usual," he commented, "we make a good team, Jocelyn. Thank you for your help," Sturnack nodded before turning towards the living room, which was visible across the open floor plan of the cabin. "Would you like to sit by the fire for awhile?"

It all seemed so...homey. The way the pair interacted was if they'd planned a vacation stay in the cabin and were currently enjoying each other's company as expected. What went unsaid between them -- and definitely reigned in their innermost thoughts -- was that the morning's close brush with death had made both Sturnack and Jocelyn reticent to be alone. As long as they were together, chatting amiably about the differences between their races, the thought of being disruptored into a cloud of vanishing particles remained at bay.

Jocelyn's eyes traveled across the space taking in the fire, a small couch, and the chair that Sturnack had mentioned earlier in the day and then returned to look at him a moment. "I'd like that," she said, voice slightly hesitant. She didn't want to impose on the man, but she also didn't want to go upstairs to the quiet where her brain could turn the day over and over while keeping her from sleep.

Earlier in the afternoon she had changed into a pair of warm joggers and a long sleeved t-shirt. She padded across the space, feet enjoying the feel of warm thick socks and no shoes as she went. Settling onto the couch, feet pulled up and tucked underneath her, she leaned on the arm rest, feeling the warmth of the fire against her face and sighing.

"It's hard for me to imagine not feeling emotions," she said, continuing their conversation. "They... add... to so many experiences. Certainly I'm familiar with volatile emotions..." here her expression clouded slightly, "but surely not all Vulcan emotions are... negative?"

Sturnack had followed Jocelyn into the living room. Where she was comfortably dressed and cozy, the Vulcan had exchanged his Starfleet uniform for a rustic tunic, trousers, socks, and shoes. He certainly wasn't dressed to go out into the nighttime cold but neither did he look as relaxed and "lived-in" as Jocelyn did. Taking a seat in his arm chair, the firelight flickered across his face as he regarded the woman he was unexpectedly sharing the cabin with.

After a few moments of reflection, Sturnack spoke up in response. "There are pleasurable emotions as well. However, even pleasurable emotions can lead to negative outcomes. For instance, a prolonged feeling of happiness could cloud one's thinking, leading to the dismissal of thoughts and ideas that, by logic's demand, must take root to live our lives sensibly. Happiness can be delusional. As can love," he admitted. "Which is not to say we do not love. When we take a mate, there is an incredibly deep connection that transcends space and time, even. But with feelings of love also come jealousy, fear of loss, perhaps even anger...it is better to neutralize all emotions than to pick and choose what you feel. If that were even possible," Sturnack said.

Jocelyn regarded him as he spoke before her eyes went to her hands. She was listening, though, and considering his comments. "I have always felt that the bad feelings are needed to make one appreciate the good ones. A balance. If you never feel the bad how can you know you've felt the good?"

She shrugged then, looking up to the fire then back over to the man in the chair across from her. "You say that with a tone that suggests you speak from personal experience..." The comment wasn't exactly a question, but nor was it a simple statement of fact. Instead it was open-ended, opening an opportunity for the Vulcan to respond should he wish to be so open, or end the conversation should he prefer she pry no further.

Sturnack grew very quiet, even for a Vulcan. His eyes peered into the fire, the flames dancing in reflection as he watched them strut and die on the stage. For a few moments, it seemed as if the man had, indeed, deigned not to answer the question. But eventually -- his voice quiet -- an answer did come. "There...was someone once. Someone I allowed myself to form a deep connection with. The feelings were not returned. Our friendship did not recover. The fault was mine," he said, eyes still fixated on the fire. "I chose to believe that love would 'conquer all,' as humans are fond of saying. But giving into those feelings only brought unthinkable heartache and pain to both of us."

"I was much younger and more headstrong then," Sturnack admitted, looking away from the fire and back to Jocelyn. "I thought, perhaps, our emotional teachings might be errant in some way. But I believe I was wrong about that as well. Some time away from her...away from Starfleet," he added, "helped me to reorient my thinking properly. I will have to take a mate one day but it is not something I look forward to." In the firelight, there was a hard line to the Vulcan's jaw. His eyes were cold and steely. And was that...sweat upon his brow? He looked away from Jocelyn, eyes diving back into the flames then.

It was Jocelyn's turn to be quiet. For long moments the crackle of the fire and quiet breathing was all that could be heard in the cabin. A quick hand adjusted black rimmed glasses--a color she had chosen while fiddling with them en route to their location. They felt appropriate considering the day's happenings. Glasses settled up the bridge of her nose, she crossed her arms over her chest, hands settling on her biceps and squeezing lightly as if she were giving herself a hug.

"I can't say that I have experienced something that... deep..." she said quietly. "I've always thought I would by now, but..." she trailed off, shrugging lightly, the movement making her fingers tighten slightly. "Love... even unrequited, seems better to me than none."

Quiet settled over them again, this quiet pregnant with unsaid things--evidence that Jocelyn hadn't finished speaking in the moment. Finally she opened her mouth again, eyes turning to look at the Vulcan across from her. "Does she feel the same as you? That all it brought was heartache? Or does she value that time despite the heartache?"

The flames -- borne of wood burning as they were -- had begun to die down. Sturnack rose from his chair and opened the grate, allowing him to place three more logs from the nearby stack into the fireplace. Using a fire-poker of black iron, he adjusted the logs into optimal position, ensuring that air could flow in-between them. The flaming logs beneath shot up, crackling as the tongues of fire licked the new arrivals, beginning to set them alight. Replacing the poker and grate, he retook his seat, having used the time to reconcile some of his thoughts.

"She is gone. Passed away for some years now," Sturnack replied. "I saw her briefly before she died. I believe she found value in our time together but it was still painful." Swift, succinct answers signaled he was done talking about whoever it was. "In any event, that was another time...long ago." It was as if he'd unpacked a box and laid the contents before Jocelyn only to suddenly stuff everything back into the box and shove it under the couch. "It sounds as if you desire coupling. I am sure the idea is alluring. Humans seem very fixated on such. Why is the urge so strong?" he wondered.

The sudden shift in the subject was nearly as unexpected as Sturnack's observation and the urge to defend herself rose up quickly. It wasn't that he sounded judgmental. His tone was as cooly Vulcan as it ever was. Instead it was as if, in light of what he had just said, he was making a comment rather than asking a question--a comment she couldn't quite put her finger on. For a brief moment she returned from the illusion that they were simply two friends talking to remember that she was talking to her boss. Not just hers, but the boss.

Her eyes dropped to her lap again. Somewhere in the mix she had let go of the sort of self hug and now she toyed with her fingers, pressing them together and then releasing; watching as the skin turned red than white with the pressure before returning to its usual tone upon release.

"The logical answer there," she began, the word 'logic' holding a slightly emotional edge to it, "is a biological imperative. There's been research to support such a thought, but it doesn't play out with the multitude of ways in which humans seek a partner. So it only holds in specific circumstances."

She paused, pressing and releasing her fingers again. "I can't speak on behalf of my species, but I want to be with someone because I want to experience that kind of... value... of mutual appreciation. Of... vulnerability and safety and..." She shrugged lightly, embarrassed by her own answer. "Is it illogical to seek out something that could so significantly improve your life?"

Sturnack gave this some thought, ultimately shaking his head. "If coupling so enhances one's life, then embracing the idea of such is not illogical. However, people often over-romanticize the idea of coupling without thinking through the potential pitfalls as well. It is...a complicated topic," he said, bringing that particular line of questions and responses to a close. "It is good that we can speak freely about such things. I am sure that, over the coming days, the urge to talk openly will only increase." Though whether he meant this in regard to Jocelyn, himself, or both was unclear.

His eyes returned to the fire, where the newer logs were now cheerily burning. The snapping of wood chips as they burst and flew at the grate was suddenly very loud, momentarily drowning out the sound of the wind from outside as it buffeted the cabin. "Do you think you will be comfortable here?" Sturnack asked then, changing the topic once again. "I realize it is only your first night and you are still acclimating but I hope you'll find peace here," he said.

Jocelyn's eyes raised, cautiously, to look at Sturnack. She wished, as she looked at him, that she had a way into his head to understand how his thought process worked--how he had moved to conversations about relationships to questions about comfort and peace. She tucked the corner of her mouth between her teeth as she looked, ultimately settling on the only answer that felt true at that moment.

"I think so," she said quietly. "Peace would be nice for a change."

Her eyes returned to her lap for a moment then before turning her head to stare into the fire letting her eyes lose focus and the flames blur. She breathed deeply, pressing a breath out through her mouth that was disrupted about halfway through with an irrepressible yawn.

"Indeed," the Vulcan replied, his own eyes drawn back to the flames. He sat there for a quiet moment until a chittering sound from down the hall interrupted his fiery reverie. "Combadge," he knowingly said to Jocelyn, rising from his chair. "I suspect the Admirals are eager to check in now that we're here and settled. I will return soon," Sturnack promised, moving off to round the corner of the living room and follow the hallway to the guest bedroom. Slipping inside, his voice was somewhat muffled but still audible as he spoke with whoever was on the other end of the line.

Jocelyn nodded, acknowledging his explanation before he left. She could still hear him in the other room, but beyond the low murmur of his voice and the crackle of the fire the cabin was remarkably quiet. Peaceful, she found herself thinking with another yawn. She shimmed slightly, letting herself stretch out a bit on the sofa. She'd sit back up when she heard him coming back down the hall, but the fire was warm and she felt like she hadn't truly relaxed in what amounted to a very long time. Shuffling a throw pillow under her arm, she sighed, eyes blinking slowly as she watched the fire and listened to Sturnack's low murmur in the other room. Maybe just a minute with her eyes closed wouldn't hurt...

Several minutes later, Sturnack found Jocelyn sleeping by the fire, not stirring at all at the sound of his footfalls. For a moment, he debated rousing the woman and suggesting she move up to her bedroom. However, logic told him that sleep might be fleeting given the assassination attempt. Waking her up now could mean Jocelyn might not be able to get back to sleep, no doubt wrestling with dark thoughts as she had been throughout the day. Thus the Vulcan opted, instead, to grab a fleecy blanket from inside an in-table, quietly closing the wooden door and then spreading the blanket over Jocelyn. She stirred only enough to unconsciously grab the blanket and pull it up even further. Thereafter she slept on, finally at rest for the day.

The Vulcan decided that he was doing the right thing in letting Jocelyn rest. Tomorrow would be a new day with new obstacles to surmount; it was proper that the woman get as much sleep as possible. Turning, the Vulcan moved to wall housing the fireplace, his fingers glancing over the old-fashioned light switch poised there. With a soft click, the switch was turned off, casting the living room in darkness, save the light from the fire, which gently flickered across Jocelyn's sleeping form.

Sturnack spent a few moments watching the woman sleep. She looked so peaceful there. And beautiful, a part of him thought, admiring the way her hair draped down around her face. The thought had crept past his inner defenses and, with a swallow, the Vulcan pushed that part of himself back down. It was a sign that he was overdue for his meditation and medication, both stringently needed to keep himself sturdily in check given his condition. With a nod to himself, Sturnack padded back down the hall, closing his door so that his forthcoming meditations would not disturb Jocelyn. It was time to dispel his own dark thoughts and quell the necessity of biology.

Lowering himself to his knees, Sturnack began to quietly talk himself into a meditative state: a place where no assassin could reach him -- a place where logic and rational thought could restore his balance...


=/\= A joint-post by... =/\=

Captain Jocelyn Blake
Press Secretary
Starfleet Command

and

Fleet Admiral Sturnack
Commander-in-Chief
Starfleet Command