Contra + Diction

•April 27, 2011 • Leave a Comment

I observe my Sochya Sa-Kai’s reflection in my periphery, knowing he believes me to be watching my own. My throat seems to be so constricted, as to prohibit the passage of saliva and air. I recognize the feeling; it has become like a cloak of sorts, familiar and worn.

I speak to him in my mind, preventing myself from actual communication. I am…afraid to.

Hand me your hand, let me look in your eyes
As my last chance to feel human begins to vaporize
Maybe it is the heat in here, maybe it is the pressure
You ought to head for the exits, the sooner the better


There were several options before us, with regard to attire. My Ashalik and I stood side by side, without apparel and discussed propriety, the occasion and how we would like to be interpreted as a unit. A pair, a team, as one. We selected our garments and prepared ourselves.

I am this great, unstable mass of blood and foam
And no one in his right mind would make his home my home
My heart is an autoclave


I believe I know why we were…summoned. I have not disclosed my hypothesis to my love. Uhura requested our presence in the Captain’s quarters. She is, clearly, a buffer. Somehow, I believe Kirk is going to demand that I relinquish my hold on my intended. I have no intention of doing so.

When I try to open up to you I get completely lost
Houses swallowed by the earth, windows thick with frost
And I reach deep down within, but the pathways twist and turn
and there is no light anywhere, and nothing left to burn


How do I tell you the depraved things I want to do to you? How can I adequately convey the overwhelming adoration that would underscore every second you would be under my will? How will you react to the undisclosed desires of my heart? How can you know any of this, if I do not inform you? How could words be sufficient?

I dreamt that I was perched atop a throne of human skulls
On a cliff above the ocean, howling wind and shrieking seagulls
And the dream went on forever, one single static frame
Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name


I am a man with a child in my soul. I am an avenging angel blinded by my own sense of justice. I am a weeping warrior, dragging a bloody sword. But, more than this

And I am this great, unstable mass of blood and foam
And no emotion that is worth having could call my heart its home
My heart is an autoclave


Without you, I am alone. Without you, I do not exist. Without you, nothing has meaning.

You turn to me to adjust my uniform, and reach to place your kiss on the tip of my nose.

I will hold fast to you, until I draw my final breath.

Continue reading ‘Contra + Diction’


Innocent Intimacy or Intellectual Intercourse?

•April 27, 2011 • 20 Comments

Not for the first time, I neatly remove each article of my uniform attire, meticulously folding and placing them upon the counter within our private bathing chamber, the heated, running shower awaiting our presence. It has been 3 weeks, 4 days, and 2.71 hours since my release from Sickbay.

I find myself reflecting on this, giving off what would appear to be an air of impassive tranquility to most. Given the reason for my leaving shift somewhat earlier than per usual, however, one such as my Ashal_Veh would recognize otherwise.

Continue reading ‘Innocent Intimacy or Intellectual Intercourse?’

Vigil + Ante

•April 27, 2011 • 14 Comments

Harsh lighting on sterile surfaces. I have not moved from his side. I dare not. I need to know he will be well.
My elbows are on my knees.

The steady rhythm of his cardio-monitors on the side of his biobed, is like an obsession.
Rather than lulling me to any semblance of sleep, I find myself anxiously counting the 240 beats in my head.
Assuring myself they are not even remotely out of sync.
My back is at an exact angle; straight, but not upright.

I became physically ill in this very room when I was informed that my Ashalik had lost a considerable amount of blood. “Head Wound”, Doctor McCoy referred to it in my presence, before leaving and remarking on our skin color and ear shape when he surmised he was out of range of my hearing. I did not retaliate. I simply allowed Nurse Chapel to withdraw the copper-based life source from me, an exact match to my Petakov. “Head wound.” It came forth from his mouth as though it were a simple medical occurrence. In actuality, it was probably the worst thing that could happen to one of our kind, the head being the source of everything we are.
My face is in my hands.

I cannot rest. Sustainance holds no appeal. Sleep is an impossibility.
I deserve this, not my Sa-Kai Sochya. I should be there.
He looks so frail in the bioskeine cocooned about his person on the biobed.
His…his skin was actually cold, clammy to the touch. So far removed from our ordinary state of being.

I have ruined everything we might have been. I crave death. The only thing keeping me from removing myself from this life is the possibility that my Fonn Ashayam will necessitate any more life source, or organs.
He deserves that and more.
All I want is to touch you once more, T’hy’la.
All I want is to be worthy of it, again.

Continue reading ‘Vigil + Ante’

Near Death & Revelations

•April 27, 2011 • 9 Comments

Captain Kirk is being illogically persistent on this day, for reasons unknown to me.

I can only theorize.

I speculate that the lack of time spent between us –in comparison to what it had at one time been– has finally succeeded in irritating him to a point he can no longer suppress.

Are Terran friendships so integral to their day-to-day that not seeing one friend, of the various they possess, upsets them to this extent?

From PADD messages whilst on duty to appearing wherever I occupy after duty is complete, his persistence continues. Mess Hall, Science Deck, Turbo Lift, Corridors…I find myself unable to dissuade him in his pursuit.

Terrans are a most bemusing species.

Continue reading ‘Near Death & Revelations’

Requiem for a Dream

•April 27, 2011 • 18 Comments

I have been awake for exactly 33.6 minutes, and have procured sustainance for my Fonn Ashayam to consume when he wakes. I did so in a manner that did not cause him to stir. Replicators are relatively silent and there was little clatter as items were transferred to a tray for aesthetic purposes.

I return to bed, stretching horizontally alongside him. The rise and fall of his thorax as he aspirates is gentle, steady and hypnotic. Watching him slumber coaxes a yawn from my decidedly not tired, nor oxygen deprived body. Fascinating.

It has been reported that the twins from various planets whether that of monozygotic, or “Identical” or dizygotic “Fraternal” origin…often exhibit similar patterns and habits. I brush the air around his temple, and try to convince myself we aren’t alike in every way I can think of.

I reach under the bed, for the instrument I kept under there, letting sensitive fingers trace the familiar and logical shape. My Sa-Kai had removed it from it’s place, yesterday. A faint line appears as I place the lyre against my body, sitting up.

He must awake, for we have much to discuss.

I look at his visage, lax in his innocent slumber …peaceful even in sleep. I shall wake him gently. I place my fingers along the instrument and bring forth a soft, ancient melody.

Continue reading ‘Requiem for a Dream’

Experience & Aftermath

•April 27, 2011 • 22 Comments

One day leads to another, and another until a few days become a good deal more, and soon find themselves leading into weeks. Nearing upon a month. It has been going on four weeks since T’Naehm’s arrival in this universe, since my opting to not return him to what would have otherwise been his death.

A correct choice?

An incorrect decision?

I do not know.

All I am aware of is the fact that his presence here is not one that I regret permitting.

In him I have found…what I have never been able to encounter in another; a connection between us growing so effortlessly as the days pass, as we spend any and all ‘available’ moments in one another’s company.

Courtship without classification, for we have never taken a moment to ‘label’ it as such.

But we are aware that we are engaged in it. Each quiet glance, each brushing of hands and digits, each small display, each exchange of emotion… Affection, fondness, love…

Slow, languid, subtle intimacy.

A variety we share on a daily –and indeed, nightly, these past two weeks– basis, as reveals itself now, both hybrid Vulcans asleep, conversation having led to exhaustion like it so often seems to as of late.

Never tiring of one another, never losing interest…perhaps never wishing to cease, for we revel in the others company so thoroughly.

We flow together in a way I cannot hope to adequately convey in written words. In a way that I feel, with time, will only continue to grow and develop in depth.

Continue reading ‘Experience & Aftermath’

Blood is Thicker than Water

•April 27, 2011 • 18 Comments

I do not often dream.

Vulcans… Do not dream.

Dreams are the products of emotional responses to unconscious thought, and as Vulcans suppress these, they do not experience such.

But I am half-Human… One who’s usual barriers were exhausted prior to my slipping between this state of conscious and not, and so…

I dream.

I dream of gentle music and of the savage beast it soothes. A beast I should fear, a beast I should flee from, a beast…around whom I can only do the opposite of those two things.

I do not fear, because I am fascinated. I cannot flee, because I am drawn. Mesmerized by the grace contained in chaos…by the unique calm and comfort…the enticement I more personally find in the midst of it.


War cannot exist without Peace… Peace cannot exist without War.

Continue reading ‘Blood is Thicker than Water’