How Cal Got His Groove Back

Posted on Sun Dec 18th, 2022 @ 11:25am by Lieutenant JG Jaya Maera Garlake & Lieutenant Calderon Jarsdel

2,738 words; about a 14 minute read

Mission: Season 1 Interlude II (E5.5)
Location: Overwatch Station
Timeline: ID 1

"What a week." Though Jaya's tone was slightly glib, there was a heaviness to her posture that belied the casual demeanor in which she spoke. "I know my personal expectations were subverted on Deep Space 9. How do you feel about the events that transpired since our last session?"

The question was posed long after they had made their friendly greetings and situated themselves for the usual psychological evaluation. Jaya was more gentle than the usual battery, but she was no less thorough for it. The scent of her staple Seyalian tea wafted up beneath her nose and preserved her cordial expression despite the weariness of her soul. No matter the situation in the outside world, her patients always came first while in session.

It had been a week? Cal's sense of time was somewhat fucked up at this point, references blown to the four winds by the battles he'd been forced into. But Jaya hadn't lied to him yet, so he'd believe her. A week it was.

"How do I feel?" He asked the classic time-purchasing question and lingered a moment, for effect more than need. He knew how he felt, but sharing these inner feelings always felt invasive and unnecessary. Perhaps that was due to the sheer amount of 'therapy' Cal had endured since combining minds with Jumik. It had been such a short space of time he shouldn't be surprised to be subjected to more though, and if it needed to be done, Jaya was a safe pair of ears at least.

"I feel... conflicted," Cal said. "Unsure if I belong or if I'm still being tested. Did I do enough? Am I to be trusted? Will my deeds be taken in good faith or used to pay off my vast debt?" He should, by most accounts, be thrown back into a prison cell somewhere and forgotten, but this place, this station and its inhabitants were the raggy dolls of Starfleet. He'd kinda grown over this last week to feeling that perhaps here, he could be himself. Whatever Jaya currently deemed that to be.

Jaya gave a knowing nod. "Finding one's place in the universe can be a lifelong pursuit. But finding one's place within oneself? That can be as long or short of a journey as we make it." Leaning forward, Jaya asked softly, "Do you trust yourself, Cal?"

That question spiked his adrenaline, but Cal's expression remained calm as he answered. "I do," he said. And he knew the answer to this question because it was obvious and totally expected, but he asked it regardless, the words calmly leaving his lips as he regarded Jaya closely. "Do others still doubt me?"

"Why do you worry about what others think?" Jaya asked, flipping the script. "Right now there is nobody here but you and me. Perhaps we should start there. Why do you trust yourself?"

Cal didn't so much laugh as exhale mild amusement at that first question. "Because my behaviour and my future here affect others in so many ways," he answered. His gaze studied Jaya even as he involuntarily reached out to read her surface emotions. "Why do I trust myself?" He repeated her second query with a lifted eyebrow. "I know me," Cal stated, and tapped his temple with an index finger. "Been trapped in here for a long time, been good to redecorate."

"But don't you see the vicious cycle there?" Jaya asked with her face askance. "You worry about what others think of you because you affect them, yet your worry affects your behavior; your behavior affects what they think; you continue worrying; your behavior presents doubt; the process continues ad nauseam." Gently shaking her head, Jaya went on. "There comes a point where we need to fix ourselves with principles, not with reputation. Rightly sorted principles will yield a rightful reputation, given time and consistency." Pausing for effect, she then asked, "Therefore, why shouldn't you ask others to trust you if you genuinely find yourself worthy of it?"

He considered those words heavily for a couple of silent minutes, respecting the Deltan's wisdom from personal experience. "I see what you mean," Cal noted. "Fair comment." A longer pause as he honesty-checked his next response. "I do not worry what people think, but I am curious as to how they perceive me. Their emotional validity is questionable given the command structure and enforced acceptance they are currently under." He grinned, amused by the insanity of his current 'posting'. "They have been told to tolerate me, they have been ordered to work with me. These requirements to not lend people to open and sincere conversation, but more likely to hide their thoughts until a chance arises to affect my standing. My perception of their emotions - enhanced as that is by my skillset - does not encourage me to feel deep concern or nail bite. It inspires me to prove my worth to the team and to improve my relative position."

Cal thought about his motivation, his aspirations and decided to opt for openness. Jaya had proved her trustworthiness after all.

"I wish to regain my old rank," Cal said. "I want to be a productive member of a team again. Trusted, relied upon, useful." He shrugged. "But considering I basically ripped out the Master-of-Arms' throat and killed a few good men, I can't really expect people to insta-trust me now, can I? I have to prove myself. That takes time."

Jaya fought back a smirk as he talked. Her eyes glimmered with joy by the end of his statement.

"I am really pleased to hear you say that," Jaya said. "I have something for you."

Standing up, she marched over to him with a coy grin. Both arms were held behind her back until she stood in front of him. "Hold out your hand," she beamed.

He picked up on the amusement from his counselor, but not the underlying reasons of course. At Jaya's forward march, Cal offered up a tentative smile and canted his head to regard her as she requested his open palm. With only a second or two hesitation, Cal obliged her request and waited, entirely unsure of what might be coming.

A small box fell from her open hand into Cal's palm. "Open it," Jaya said with barely contained excitement.

The weight of the box was entirely insignificant relative to what he found within. And that heaviness fell upon his broad shoulders with an inaudible thump.

Two gold pips.

Cal touched them both lightly with his index finger to be sure they were real, he wasn't imagining things, and somewhere in the back of his mind a Lethean remnant sighed.

"Is this real?" Cal asked.

"Mhmm!" Jaya repeatedly nodded her head and giggled with glee. "Reinstatement comes with stipulations and strings attached, but I asked if I could be the one to give you these." Her smile settled into a proud, maternal expression that somehow did not seem out of place despite the fact she was a few years his junior. "Continue to believe in yourself, Cal, and this will just be the beginning."

"Stipulations and strings?" Cal asked, though he'd known that was coming. Rank always came with these things and of course his own would be directly related to ensuring everyone's well-being and safety. He was surprised though, at the speed of the gift and showed it on every emotional level. Jaya seemed so happy, but this was serious. Reinstatement was really serious.

"Thank you," he said, mustering up the remnants of a concerned smile for the counselor. "I'll do my best, believe me." But what of Storr and the Marines? What of others who had damn good reason to doubt and dislike him? He would have to prove to them that he was a valued member of the team, and Cal expected that bar to be set higher than normal for fair reasons.

Jaya gave a knowing smile that attempted to cover the trepidation radiating from Cal in the moment. "Akiva will have documentation for you to sign that seals it, but the gist as I understand it is that you will be placed in a provisional status for the next six months to a year based upon the review of a designated probation officer. Our sessions here will continue to be weighted for or against you, but your PO will be the steward of your continued commission." She gave a pregnant pause before naming the individual in a casual declarative statement. "I think it will be beneficial for Master Mayhew in the end to serve as your impartial assessor -- ensuring you remain compliant with the terms of your reinstatement and that your conduct is above reproach will set him at ease and perhaps help him find closure."

He nodded. Cal was well aware of the type of paperwork that he'd be expected to sign. Hell, he'd made others sign similar agreements back when he'd been himself doing his old job, and there had been no respite from form-willing even as Jumik was masquerading as an intel officer. That they wanted documents to cover their arses didn't surprise him, but the designated probation officer's name did.

"Beneficial for who?" Cal asked, one eyebrow raised and his mind racing. Was that fair? Was that reasonable? He supposed so. But... he could see no world in which the victim of the Lethean's attack remained impartial. "Mayhew... at ease...." he whispered. "Really?"

At first Jaya pursed her lips and darted her eyes to the side in thought, but then she just smiled and shrugged. "Sometimes the best way to end a conflict is to force it to a head. Master Mayhew is a man of honor. If he has a personal grudge against you in light of the trauma he experienced, then allowing him to process it in the line of duty may be the best way forward for him personally. And in your case, Cal, you need a strong recommendation from wherever you can find one. If Trenton cannot find cause to condemn you, then no one can." She laid a reassuring hand on his arm. "Just keep being the man you are. In time, everyone will see him."

He didn't like it. No, he hated it. But secondhand karma was a bitch the same as the firsthand kind. And the face of the Lethean, for all everyone else knew, was his. Only he could cleanse that particular demon from the world, hard as the concept seemed. Perhaps it was best to just start with the worst case scenario and work backwards to the rest rather than to tiptoe into carnage with eyes closed. If Mayhew was closely involved, at least Cal would see trouble coming.

"Fair point, unfairly made," he said with a quirked smile. "I guess I don't have a choice anyway, right?"

Jaya raised her hands in a conciliatory gesture. "You could refuse your Starfleet commission and trust the Federation justice system. I would not be able to help you directly. To be plainly honest, you would probably end up as a ward of the state in a care facility until civilian medicine recommends your release." Her face bent with a sympathetic frown. "That would not be the worst thing--living in comfort, having your traumas healed, no stress or responsibility. But I don't think you were made for leisure. Your recovery would be retarded by it, in my opinion. I think you need to be in the field as much as Starfleet needs you to be." Her bright smile returned. "In my humble, professional opinion."

Cal smiled. "Sarcasm," he said. "On my part. Way of processing unwanted but welcome information. I'd apologise, but I don't feel sorry and I don't want to be insincere." A breath - in, out. "Yes, I'd rather be in the field too. Difficult situations never worried me so much as captivity does." A quiet pause. "Thank you, Jaya."

"You're welcome, Cal..." Jaya trailed off for a moment as she pondered saying what was in her heart to say. In the end, she did. "To tell the truth, you have been a bright spot for me in my time here. Memory Theta's wheelhouse is a grisly one full of secrets and death and..." No, there were things she was sworn not to discuss with anyone who was not initiated. "Well, helping someone regain their personal agency to the extent you have is something that a counselor usually only dreams about. Thank you for allowing me onto your journey."

There was a lot left unspoken in there, but more than enough said for Cal to catch the main drift. Jaya must have so many secrets, he considered, hers and everyone else's, and all those thoughts, emotions and scattered situations never entirely left a complex, caring mind. He hoped she had someone she could rely on to keep hers too. His left hand wrapped about that unexpected box with his reinstated rank calling from within, but his right reached out towards the young woman's own. "I know you can't discuss all your burdens with me," Cal said. "But I can sense the wealth of them within you, and if anything I can do, or not to, helps to lessen that weight, please ask me. I can support without asking impertinent questions," he added with a smile. Psionics - that ever present gift and curse - was something they both shared. And secrecy? He had lived his entire life well aware of its importance as well as its expensive toll.

"I would consider any means of supporting you to be an honourable means of repaying a debt I will owe you forever," noted Cal, the smile in his eyes one of hope that she might, at some point, allow it.

TAG

---

Outside Cal's quarters, there was a small but secure strongbox in front of the door. Affixed to it was a small, handwritten note on folded white cardstock that must have been replicated. When opened, it read,

"Congratulations on the reinstatement, Cal. I saw the order just today. You deserve it. Please accept this token of my aff approval and best wishes. The password to the lock is that which you gave me on Deep Space 9. I hope to see you on Risa. ~Nandi"

A nice surprise? Well, that was unexpected! Cal read the note three times to be sure and comfortable with the words, the sentiment and the gifter. And also, if he was totally honest, to delay that inevitable moment of the reveal. Having something pleasantly mysterious was to be treasured. Affection. That was absolutely to be welcomed, perhaps more than any physical item.

He kept the note in one hand as he entered the keycode.

As the box opened, it revealed a crisp, leather-bound book that may have been freshly replicated. The cover was mundane, possessing only four words:

Kama Sutra

Mallanaga Vātsyāyana

On the inside cover, before the extremely NSFW illustrations, instructions and commentary, was more of the same handwriting as featured in the note.

"You wanted to know more of my homeland. This work of antiquity is a notorious piece of it. I know this gift is scandalous in so many ways, but you make me feel alive, Cal. I need to feel alive now more than ever. Return the book to me on Risa, and I will know you wish to explore where this goes.
~Nandi"

Cal ran worn fingertips across the new leather and let the words, the gesture and the moment of the great reveal seep into his soul, mind and heart. Nandi... you little minx... he hadn't placed any expectations on their current status, unsure what would happen to him, where he might end up or if any feelings were real or worthy of longevity on either side. This? This certainly answered any immediate questions, while simultaneously firing up the old hormones and setting the biological stage for... well, presumably exactly where Nandi had planned to send them.

As he stepped inside his quarters and closed the door behind him, the winsome smile that had begun with the full realisation of this paid-forward gift had developed into a full-blow wolfish grin. Waiting for Risa was now going to be a long, slow burn of a wait.

 

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