"What are you doing here, Starfleet?" came the angry voice of the Son'a Commander once more.
His eyes were dark, hard and cold. The anger in his voice was penetrating, with a pitch that was suppose to induce fear and anxiety. It was working. Kassia was trying desperately to fight against her restraints, but she couldn't. She was trapped in the chair. But the more she fought, the less she could move. She could feel the fear course through her as he loomed over her.
"I'll ask again! What are you doing here, Starfleet!"
She saw him raise his fist, looked into his eyes, and for a moment, she didn't see the Son'a Commander . . . She saw Rojere . . . his green eyes furious. It was him, raising his fist. She watched as it descended toward her.
Her eyes flew open as she looked around her surroundings. She was back in her quarters on the Arizona-A. She had vague memories of Tarik bringing her there. Slowly, she pushed herself to sitting, and swung her legs of the edge of the bed. She was still very disturbed by the nightmare. The fear and anxiety and now an old face in place of the new threat did not help. Like Tarik had predicted, a wave of anger swept through her. Anger at the Son'a Commander that had made her feel so helpless as he abused her . . . But now, many other memories that hadn't crossed her mind for quite awhile coursed through her . . . Rojere . . . She had almost agreed to marry him, until she had found out what he was really like . . . and even then, she had stayed too long with him . . . Tarik had told her other memories would come up for her. But why this, she wondered?
She remembered the last night they had been together with some detachement. They had argued. Seemed like that was all they had done for the last several weeks. She had begun to notice how he treated children and how he always wanted to take control of every situation . . . When she would say something, it would cause an argument. She had never been able to read him well, she thought. He was a Delinite, and they were, for the most part, able to shield their thoughts from telepaths, but not their emotions. However, Kassia had no idea that night he would turn on her . . . They had been arguing over a friend's young son. He had made the mistake of making derogatory statements about her friend, and Kassia had reacted. When they had arrived back at the house she had shared with Troy on Santori, she had stormed off. She had not realized he had been behind her, coming after her. She had been too overwhelmed by her own emotions to sense him. She had opened the door and as soon as she had gone through it, she forcefully pushed it closed. Instantly, she heard a grunt of pain and the door swing open again, hitting the wall as it made contact. Before she could react, he was coming after her. His green eyes as cold as ice with pure fury. His hands in fists. Immediately, she felt a blow to her chest. She pushed him away and turned only to feel another blow to her shoulderblade and then her other. He grabbed her arm roughly and twisted it, turning her around so she could look into his face.
"You'll be sorry for that, bitch!" he spat, as his other hand went to her throat, closing around her wipe pipe and squeezing.
It had been that moment that Troy had come home after a couple of drinks with the guys from his work. When he saw Rojere and what he was doing, Troy had launched himself at him. He had dislodged Rojere's hold on Kassia, sending her to the ground, grabbing her throat and gasping for air and had then beat Rojere within an inch of his life. He hadn't called the Security Enforcers, but had definitely threatened him, that if he so much as came within 5 meters of his sister again, he wouldn't live to see another day.
Kassia remembered that the tears did not stop for over an hour and she remembered shivering with cold . . . Had that been shock then, she wondered? It was close to what she has experienced in sickbay. Her body, where Rojere had struck her, ached for days, though did not bruise. She had never thought Rojere ever capable of hurting her . . But almost right after the incident, her fear had left. The memories had been like watching a movie of it happening to someone else . . . And though she was going through the memories without feelings now, there obviously were some somewhere in her mind. Or else, Rojere wouldn't have found his way into her nightmare. She seethed with anger over it all . . . over being helpless . . . over being hurt . . . choked and hit . . . And she couldn't just do nothing. Angry tears threatened to fall. She wanted to break something, to break a lot of things. To scream at the top of her lungs, but she didn't. She sat on the bed, in total control of her body . . . but not in control of the emotional state of her mind.
Standing up, she threw on some clothes and headed from her quarters. She couldn't stay there. She had to move . . . do something . . . She walked along the corridors of the ship and barely noticed the few crewmen she passed. Her mind wouldn't let the memories or the feelings go. She had ended up in front of the mess hall, but she didn't want to eat. Hunger was the farthest thing from her ming. She continued to walk, and passed many areas . . . some of which were off-limits to her just yet. But suddenly, she found herself in front of the holodeck. She checked the controls to make sure it was not in use and entered. She stood alone in the empty holodeck grid, as the computer waited for her instructions.
She contemplated what to do, as she looked around the empty room. Should she create something soothing, she thought? Maybe a beach or a lake? But that's not what she wanted. What did she want, she wondered . . .
"Computer, create the image of the interior of a shop with a lot of empty shelves," she said.
Instantly, an image of walls and shelves appeared. Where the holodeck door was, there was the image of a door for the shop. She looked around and nodded her approval.
"Computer, on all the shelves, I want all kinds of breakables. Plates, glassware . . . statuettes. Make it all from Earth, circa 20th century."
Instantly, the shelves were filled with what she had asked for. Some of the pieces were very nice, she thought. The computer had a very good database, she thought, as she picked up a piece . . . It was a decorator plate with a beautiful picture painted on it of a lush waterfall surrounded by tropical green vegetation and brilliantly colored blooms. Carefully, she set it back on the shelf. She walked around the shop once again, looking at everything. Then suddenly, as if something snapped in her, she shoved everything off one of the shelves. The pieces shattered as they hit the floor with a resounding crash. Kassia then picked up several pieces in her hands and threw them with all her might as she began to cry, reaching for even more. She swept several more shelves of their items and threw even more . . . When there was nothing else left to break, she leaned up against a wall and slid down it to her bottom. Tears had stained her pale cheeks and she wiped away the ones that continued to form. With a sob, she hid her head behind her arms, that rested on her knees. Her body shook as she cried.
Tarik woke suddenly from a deep sleep. He was having a nightmare.
Despite all that Tarik had seen and done in his life, he very seldom had nightmares. In fact, he could not remember having one since he was a very young child. His parents had been there for him...
Tarik thought of his parents again. What would his mother and father, the gentle poets and pacifists who had defected from the Romulan Empire in protest of its growing militarism, make of his life? They had wholeheartedly backed his entrance into Starfleet Academy, sensing the restlessness of their child with the sedate environment of Vulcan. I started an engineer and ended up a killer...what would they say? he thought.
No, enough of this. I've got things to take care of. Those things included yet another letter to the family of Corporal Ramon Gutierrez, killed during the search and rescue mission for Maxine Vasser. And, more seriously for Tarik, Kassia.
"Computer, raktajino, triple strength," Tarik ordered the replicator. The strong Klingon coffee materialized instantly. Tarik took a sip and sat down to begin writing the letter. Once I've got this taken care of, I'll check on Kassia. She needs me but I have a responsibilitiy to Gutierrez's family.
Tarik tried to write the letter--a letter he had written dozens of times over the past thirteen years--but for some reason the words couldn't come. The thoughts invading his mind were becoming even more disturbing, more troubling...an interrogation by a Son'a officer, then another scene of a man Tarik didn't recognize striking him and trying to strangle him, only to be fought off by someone else.
That's strange...I've never been interrogated by the Son'a, and I don't recognize the other man--not that he'd be that much of a challenge for me, Tarik thought. The thoughts began to crystallize, revealing more detail. Slowly, Tarik recognized the Son'a officer as the same one he'd killed at the B'aku world. The man who had fought off his attacker was Troy, Kassia's brother.
Suddenly these details became overwhelemed by a feeling of rage, and the sound of dishes and other items breaking.
Kassia...I'm seeing things from Kassia's experience! he realized.
"Computer, locate brevet Ensign Kassia," Tarik queried.
<Ensign Kassia is in the holodeck.>
Tarik immediately got dressed and headed to the holodeck.
The sobs had subsided to soft crying. Her angry had burned away to ashs with every dish and glass that she had broken. As her green eyes lifted from behind her arms, she saw the destruction she had caused . . . that she had needed to do . . . But she was in no more control than when she had come here. She only felt slightly better, but not by much. She wasn't strong, she thought. Not as strong as she felt she should be. And with the memories of Rojere crashing in on her too, but just adding to her anger and pain. Suddenly, an image of Rojere choking her flashed in her mind once again, followed swiftly by the Son'a Commander. Within moments, she disolved back into sobs, again hiding her face behind her arms. Tarik entered the holodeck to find Kassia there, amid a pile of broken dishes, vases, and other delicate items. She was kneeling on the deck, crying.
"Kassia...I'm here for you," Tarik said, putting his arm around her gently.
"It won't stop . . ." she cried softly, as she leaned into is embrace. "The memories won't stop . . . In fact, more memories keep coming up . . . I just want it to stop . . ."
"Don't be afraid to ask for help. It's all right--you've been through a lot and nobody expects you to handle this on your own," Tarik said quietly. "If there's anything I can do, let me know."
"I don't know how anyone can help . . ." she said, the tears still falling from her eyes. "The nightmares . . . the flashbacks I'm having . . . I feel so weak and helpless . . ." Another sob escaped her as she tried to wipe away the tears.
"I know," Tarik said. "This is all to be expected after what you've been through. I felt you this evening. I felt and saw everything..."
She lifted her head from him, and for the first time since his arrival, looked him in the eyes. Her green eyes framed in red gazed with curiosity. "What do you mean you felt and saw everything?" she asked. As his dark eyes locked with her stare, he gently caressed her face where the spots framed it beautifully, and she could sense his concern for her.
"I saw your interrogation, and something that happened with another man trying to strangle you," Tarik said, holding back his own range and trying to be as clinically detached as possible. "And then I saw you in here. I thought it was my own subconscious at first, but things became more clear the more I focused on them."
She nodded, her crying becoming silent, but the tears still falling, only slowly. "You saw the flashback then . . . " she said, in almost a whisper. Another image of Rojere hitting her, and twisting her arm behind her back jumped to the forefront of her mind. Her body shuddered, and she started to feel cool. Tarik saw the image just as Kassia saw it.
"I want that son of a bitch," he said, coldly and darkly as his eyes flashed with anger.
"He's not worth your time or effort . . ." she said, as she continued to feel more chilled. "I have not even thought about Rojere in several years . . . but now . . . Now I'm reliving it . . . Why now? Wasn't it enough that I was interrogated? Why would my mind put me through this?" Suddenly, she sobbed again, but trying hard to gain some control back.
Tarik held her closer. "Sometimes a traumatic event will cause us to relive other traumatic events in our lives. Situations and events we thought resolved years ago will come to the surface as fresh as the day they occurred. You had resolved your situation with this Rojere person, until the Son'a broke what repairs you'd managed to make. You need to repair this damage," he said. "Let me help. I know of a Vulcan technique by which someone will enter the mind of another to aid in recovery from trauma."
"You can do this?" she asked with surprise, "But will you be prepared for what will be waiting for you inside?" Her mind was a confused mess. Even when she'd had the head injury that had caused her to almost take her own life, she had not felt so chaotic and vulnerable . . . All her memories were revolving around pain, helplessness and rage . . . Even if he could enter her mind, she thought, could he handle what he would find?
"I know of the technique," Tarik said, "but I've never done this myself. We do, however, have the link--the fact that I can detect what's going on in your mind proves that. In the worst case scenario, I won't be able to do anything, and you won't be any worse off than you are now and I'll send for a healer as soon as we reach the station. And I'm used to being thrown into the middle of chaos. I've pretty much made it my life's work." Tarik tenderly ran his hand along Kassia's cheek. "Besides, what is a healer but a warrior fighting the oldest war of all?" His touch was comforting . . . and this pain had to stop . . . if he could help, wasn't it worth a try, she thought . . . But she was still concerned for him. Wasn't there a possibility he could get lost in the depth of her mind and not find is way out again? Could he handle the intense emotions that coursed through her. Being an empath made her emotions stronger and more intense. Tarik was strong and he had a strong mind, but still . . . could he handle her mind and all the darkness that it held?
"I don't know what to say. . ." she replied. Her eyes spoke volumes to him, though she couldn't form the words. "Let me try. This helped me when I was in your position,"
Tarik assured her. "Just relax."
"All right," she said, finally giving in . . . wanting to believe he could help her stop the nightmares and the intense emotions . . . Tarik was outwardly cool and collected, but inside he was more than a little intimidated. He'd had this particular technique used on him, but that was by a fully-trained Vulcan healer. He wished it could be T'val and not him doing this--Tarik wasn't even a Vulcan, let alone a healer! But something was prompting him to move ahead. Tarik focused his thoughts, closed his eyes, and brought his hand to Kassia's temple.
"Just relax, Kassia," Tarik said again, wondering if he could relax as the surge of mental energy flowed between them. "Just let it all go..." She let out a breath she had been subconsciously holding as she felt his mind touch hers. But suddenly, images exploded in her head . . . and she felt as if she were spiralling downward toward some deep, dark pit. She couldn't stop it . . . She saw Tarik and reached out for his hand, but she kept falling farther away from him. Tarik found himself falling down an endless pit. He felt like screaming, but realized from what he'd been told that this was normal in these cases. Both Tarik and Kassia found themselves headed toward a distant, bright, shining light... Tarik emerged in the middle of a desolate field. The Plains of Fire on Vulcan or Death Valley on Earth would have seemed as paradise to this blanched, dead landscape. In the middle of the field was a small adobe hut, like those a friend of his had once told him were used as desert dwellings on Earth. Tarik walked to the hut and opened the door. Inside was Kassia, in uniform, tied to a chair. The Son'a commander was beating her.
"What are you doing here, Starfleet?" the commander yelled.
"Conducting scientific research," Kassia replied tersely. The commander struck her again. Tarik tried to strike back at the Son'a--but couldn't move his hands. The he remembered: this was Kassia's mind; she made the rules.
"Kassia!" Tarik called to her. "YOU make the rules here!!! You don't have to suffer like this!" Immediately a light of understanding crossed Kassia's face. The bonds tying her to the chair vanished. "I make the rules," she echoed as she stood up to the surprise of the Son'a Commander's face. "I MAKE THE RULES!" she suddenly yelled. Within a moment, she let loose her emotions. She went after the Commander with a vengence. With strength born out of her fury, she struck him across the face. As she went to strike again, he easily grabbed her arm. Within moments, she bent it backwards,breaking it from her. Suddenly, she jumped into the air, higher than she ever thought possible and landed a kick to the Son'a's face that sent him back a few steps. Her landing was graceful and perfect. As she met the Commander's gaze, she saw the fear in hiseyes. She wanted him afraid. She wanted him hurt. She wanted him to know what he had put her through. She walked up to him once more, and just as he was planning on grabbed her again for more abuse, she kicked . . . Her foot made contactwith his groin. Suddenly he crumbled to the ground in pain. She then saw a phaser sitting on the chair. She grabbed it and aim it at him. She raised it and was ready to shoot, but every time she went to depress the trigger, something stopped her. A feeling that she shouldn't take a life, regardless of how vile and how much of a waste of space they are, it was still a life . . . Tears started stinging her eyes again, as she turned away from the Son's Commander. Tarik booted the Son'a in the head. The Son'a's head snapped to one side and his neck broke with an audible crack. "I've already killed this one before anyway. Don't worry, Kassia--you're not killing the actual people, only the trauma associated with them. Now, take a look outside the window. Kassia went to the window. The desert had been replaced with a grassy plain, a gentle breeze swaying the grass. Tarik and Kassia turned around, only to be confronted with Rojere, the man Tarik had seen strangling Kassia in his dream. Rojere came at her suddenly, ready to punch her.
"NO!" she screamed and suddenly, he stopped and looked at her.
His eyes were cold as the darkest depth of the ocean. "What's the matter, Kassia? Are you afraid this time I will finish the job I started?" He laughed, very amused with himself. Tarik had wanted to restrain himself--the rules dictated that he should--but he lacked the even Vulcan temperment which would have made such detachment possible. "You want to try it, Rojere, go right on ahead," he said, stepping in front of Kassia.
"And who are you?" he sneered. "Because of me, she needs a protector?" He laughed, as if the thought that he had hurt her so deeply were amusing to him.
Tarik sized him up. "You know, you're right--she shouldn't need a protector because of someone as pathetic as you! And she's quite capable of protecting herself these days. "But this time I'm not her protector--I'm your tormentor! To her, I am Tarik, son of the poets Takor and Belaz, a Major of Starfleet Marines," Tarik explained patiently. "But, to you, I am Satan, Fek'lehr, and all the pagh-wraiths combined in one! Leave her now or suffer dearly!" he said, his voice dropping to a low growl. Tarik wasn't certain, but he felt at least a half-meter taller and much more muscular than his already well-developed frame.
"You are not my tormentor!" he said, "You are nothing if you think that little bitch is worth protecting . . . " He was unafraid of Tarik, and Kassia needed to pay for slamming the door in his face.
Tarik (for some reason now fully dressed in his battle armor) grabbed Rojere by the throat with a single hand and lifted him a good half-meter off the ground. "Suppose we see how you like it!!!!" he yelled as he squeezed Rojere's throat. Rojere began turning purple before Tarik dropped him on the ground and kicked him straight in the crotch. Kassia watched as the scene played out before her. She was filled with conflicting emotions. She was thrilled to see Rojere on the ground and in pain. But a part of her felt guilty . . . But he was the one who hurt her physically . . . he had betrayed her emotionally . . . She wanted to see him suffer, and yet she just wanted it to stop . . .She didn't want to hurt anymore . . . "You know what to do, love. Finish him," Tarik said, indicating the phaser Kassia still held. "If you don't do it now, he'll be with you the rest of your life. You aren't actually killing the man, but the embodiment of what he's done to you. You make the rules--you make the decisions." Outside, thunder clouds began gathering and the sky darkened. The room was momentarily lit brilliantly by a nearby lightning strike. Kassia took the phaser and held it toward Rojere, taking perfect aim. Her breathing became short and fast as she thought about killing him . . . She couldn't do it . . . Could she? This wasn't real . . . but it felt real . . . She felt her body shake. The phaser almost fell from her hands as tears sprang to her eyes.
"I don't know if I can do this . . . Even if its not real . . . How do I do this?" she cried softly. Rojere gathered himself and moved on Kassia.
"What's the matter? Can't do it on your own so you need someone to protect you? Like your brother, or like this animal?" he said, indicating the still-enhanced Tarik, who was now looking out the window with concern. The lightning had touched off a wildfire. "You can't fight your own battles???" he yelled, making another lunge for Kassia's throat. Suddenly, there was a blast of light from the phaser as Rojere's body crumpled to the floor. She looked at him laying there, still . . . silent . . . Her shaking became worse and she let the phaser drop to the floor. Rojere was dead . . . He was dead and she had killed him. Whether or not this was real, it felt real to her. She was hyperventilating . . . and sank to her knees, trying to calm down.
Tarik rushed immediately to her. "That's how you do it!!!" he said. "It's okay, honey--it's always like that the first time, for real or in here," he said, indicating his head. "And you'll still have the memories, but now you have power over them. Your mind, your life, your rules. Just be ready--we've got another wave coming," he warned her as another individual materialized inside the room. "I'm here if you need me but ultimately you've got to fight this battle." Outside the room Tarik's worst fears were being realized--his own insecurities were coming in, arising from the flames of the prairie fire. He knocked out the window of the adobe, unslung his rifle, and sighted in on the first of the dark wraiths to rush the cabin. A perfectly-aimed shot took down a huge green monster that Tarik had long ago recognized as his sense of jealousy. A trained healer could keep them from entering in the first place, Tarik said as he sighted in on another monster with two heads: his own confusion about his role in life. A man had appeared before Kassia. He had been dark haired and blue-eyed, with just a hint of green. He was tall and muscular. Instant recognition entered her eyes. It was Arviel . . . The other man she had almost married. Only, she was surprised to see him here. He had never struck her. He had never threatened her . . . His handsome face made women adore him. His ability to talk and laugh was endearing . . . Anger arose in her as their eyes met. "What are you doing here, Arviel?" she spat, anger rising in her.
"You must have summoned me," he said simply, with a smile. "Come on, Kass . . . Give me another chance . . . I love you . . . I want to make things work with us . . ."
As he spoke, she remembered seeing him walk out of his home with a very pretty girl . . . With a simple probe of his mind had revealed all to her, and it felt like she had been kicked in the gut. You always told him not to ever show you how to use a gun . . . she thought, as she grabbed the phaser once again. "Sorry, Arviel . . . No more second chances . . ." With that, she fired. Her stomach turned as he fell to the ground dead.
"Good girl!" Tarik smiled as he blasted the ugly red monster that represented his regret at having not stayed with Engineering. He made sure to hit that one with several shots--this was what he was born for!!! The images Tarik was facing were starting take on more familiar faces: an upperclassman who had hazed Tarik mercilessly at the Academy, several anonymous Cardassian and Son'a infantrymen, one or two childhood bullies. With the familiarity came increased danger. The flames moved closer to the adobe. "Just hang in there! You can get rid of them all now if you want--just don't be afraid!" he said. Tarik knew what this had to be doing to Kassia, but at the same time he knew it was necessary. We have to face the darkness eventually, he said as he potted the head of Darryl Shockley.
Kassia's eyes closed as pain coursed through her, but suddenly, she felt eyes watching her. As she opened her eyes, she saw a face she had not seen, nor wanted to see since she lived on Trayva with Troy . . . It was Troy's father. He was tall with dark hair and even darker eyes. His brow-ridge was more prominent than Troy's. He leered at her and she shuddered. Immediately, she backed up. This was one man she didn't feel prepared for. "Kassia . . . " he said, his voice husky with his desire and the booze he had been drinking. "I'm going to make you mine . . ." She backed off and this time, she felt she was going to lose it completely.
"I can't deal with this one . . ." she said, as her breaths came in faster than before. She shook uncontrolably as she remembered him trying to force himself on her.
"That's why I'm here, Kassia--to help you with the ones you can't handle on your own!" Tarik said, abandonning his own battle for the moment. Images of him grabbing her arm and pulling her toward him hit her. She remembered smelling his intoxicated breath, and remembered what it felt like when he grabbed her arm roughly and then as she struggled, reaching toward her chest to grab her breast roughly . . . She shuddered and this time, she couldn't take it. She cried and curled into a ball. This one, she was unprepared for. "Hey, pervert!" Tarik yelled. "What's the matter? Not man enough for a grown woman so you have to go after little girls instead?"
"You know nothing, stranger . . . You do not know what goes on in that girl's head . . . The looks she gives . . . She gives it to Troy . . . so now she'll give it to me . . ." he said, as he laughed evilly.
Kassia shuddered. Though Troy had never touched her in that way, she was not surprised his father had thought it was the case. The nights she had slept in bed with him . . . Maybe this had been her fault, she thought. Could she had been responsible for this happening to begin with? "Where the hell do you think we are???" Tarik yelled as he stepped toward the apparition, which he recognized as looking vaguely like an older version of Troy--his father, maybe? Just what happened here? "I know everything that goes on her head! Do you know what we do to people like you on Romulus?"
"What?" Troy's father asked with contempt.
"First, we do this," Tarik said, grabbing the man by the crotch, twisting and squeezing. Troy's father yelled in pain. "And then we do this," Tarik continued, drawing his knife and moving it toward the man's crotch. He delicately traced a figure around the man's crotch, the blade just barely touching the skin. Troy's father began to whimper.
"What are you? Why are you even bothering with this?" he cried as Tarik's blade maneuvered in ever-tighter circles around the man's crotch, cutting through clothing. "I'm the man who fights the battles Kassia can't fight herself," Tarik said. "I'm the man who loves her--who was meant for her--and I will not let this go unpunished!" Tarik yelled as he drove the knife deep into Troy's father's crotch. Troy's father howled in pain as blood gushed out onto the floor. "That's for the physical harm," Tarik said quietly, grinning evilly. "And this is for what you did to her mind!" he said as he picked the man up and carried him to the door of the adobe. Tarik kicked down the door and threw Troy's father out into the waiting arms of Gul Seitol, the Cardassian intelligence officer who had presided over Tarik's interrogation in a POW camp years before. Even by the standards of Cardassian intelligence Seitol was considered a sadist. "Put your talents to good use for a change!" Tarik yelled to Seitol as the Cardassian grinned and began ministering to Troy's father. Tarik turned away just as the screams began. Tarik turned his attention to Kassia, mindful that once Seitol was satisfied that Troy's father was either truly penitent or truly dead, Seitol would come for both of them next. "It's over with, love. He's gone," he said, placing his non-bloodstained hand on Kassia's shoulder.
She looked up at him as her body still shook. Her breath was still fast. She still felt sick in her stomach . . . But it was over, she thought . . . It was over for now . . .
"Come on, honey, we've got to get out of here now!" Tarik said, smelling the fire beginning to crack the walls of the adobe. Grabbing his rifle, he shot both Gul Seitol and what was left of Troy's father for good measure. Then he took Kassia by the hand and led her out of the adobe. Most of Tarik's demons lay dead amidst the flames, dispatched by his own efforts. Seitol had been one of the worst--but not nearly the worst. A very large, very imposing Romulan in a Tal'Shiar uniform stood in his way. Tarik tried to shoot, but his rifle charge was empty. His knife lay embedded in the charred remains of Troy's father. Tarik spread his arms out to protect Kassia, but knew that he couldn't do much against this one.
"No!" Kassia said loudly as she looked at the Romulan before them. "No! This is my domain! You will not live here or hurt anyone here! There has been enough pain for one day!"
But the Romulan still stood threatening and menacing. He reached for a disruptor. As he aimed it at the two of them, Kassia suddenly focused on him. As time ran out, she just gazed at him. Suddenly, he grabbed at his chest, as Kassia watched. The disruptor fell from the Romulan assasin's hand. Suddenly, he collapsed on the ground. His body spasmed and then was still . . . blood trickling from his nose, his chest looked like all the ribs were broken. She came to the realization that she had done that . . . and she had done it with her mind . . . in her mind . . . Tarik was stunned as he looked over the dead Romulan.
"Have you always had this ability, Kassia?" he asked. She shook her head as she was still shocked by the dead Romulan's body.
"I never thought about doing something like that before . . . I never knew I could . . . But this isn't real . . ." she said.
"Either way, you can be guaranteed I won't be messing with you anytime soon!" Tarik said, smiling. Suddenly it became very quiet, the air very clean and fresh. Tarik turned around and looked at the area they'd just left. It was still burned and lifeless, but now trees were beginning to grow amid the destruction, overwhelming the little adobe cabin and everything in the area. "Take a look, Kassia," he said. "That's your subconscious now. It's starting to heal and reach its true potential again. Sometimes a fire is needed before the forest can grow." She looked as the area seemed to heal itself. The dead disappeared and turned the area back into the beginnings of a nice woodsy area. But she still couldn't smile. Though she knew that the healing really had started, she was still very far away from being completely healed. She had to be realistic with herself . . . The nightmares would continue but perhaps, if she were lucky, she would be able to control her nightmares. "It's going to take some time, but you have power over these things now," Tarik said, embracing her. Neither of them could quite recall who started crying first. They'd both fought the battle of their lives this night.
After a while, Tarik looked up, trying to find the exit. Everything's dealt with--the exit should be here, he thought. What could be left?" Tarik looked down and saw himself in full dress uniform, complete with all of his decorations. Kassia stood beside him in a well-tailored black evening gown. He looked around to find himself in his childhood home on Vulcan.
"Kassia, are you doing this?" Tarik asked, but Kassia didn't answer. She was deep in concentration, clutching his hand tightly.
"Son, do you seek us?" a voice Tarik had not heard in almost half a lifetime said. Tarik turned around and saw--
"Father! Is that you?" he asked.
"Yes, we're here, Tarik," Takor--an older version of Tarik, only somewhat more heavy-set and almost completely bald--answered.
"We were called from Beyond." Tarik looked to another doorway and saw his mother, Belaz. Belaz was a short, matronly woman who could have easily been called everyone's mother, Romulan or not.
"But who--why?" he asked.
"Kassia called us," Takor answered. "She's a very remarkable woman, Tarik. You've chosen well!"
Kassia did this? Tarik thought. I didn't know her abilities were that strong! "I'm not entirely sure who chose whom," Tarik answered, smiling.
"And that's usually a sign that it's going to work!" Belaz said. "We would never have put you through an arranged marriage as is done back home or on Vulcan," she continued. "You would have been free to choose whomever you wished to marry as soon as you completed your education. We've faith in your abilities, and it looks like our faith wasn't misplaced," she smiled. "But yes, she called us for you. She felt you needed your own closure, now that you've helped her."
"Son, I know you are sometimes troubled by what you do, and whether or not we would have approved," Takor picked up. "We knew that you were not made for the life of a scholar when you were still very young. We also knew how fascinated you were by Starfleet--do you know that we kept all the ship models you made, up to the day we were killed? You chose Starfleet long before you entered the Academy."
"It's true we're pacifists," Belaz continued, "but we're also realists. Without men like you there would be no safe place in the universe for people like us. You've helped to preserve everything we hold to be dear and true, my child. We love you no matter what you're doing for a living, but what you're doing for a living has made us very proud," she said as she reached over and touched Tarik's decorations. "You were meant to be a warrior. The Empire would have made you a warrior, but it would have killed any trace of the Tarik we raised. In the Federation--in Starfleet--you serve the values that we wanted for you. And how could any parent be ashamed of that?"
"But--so many have suffered because of me!"
"Many fewer than would have suffered had you not pursued your course," Takor replied. "As long as you serve the interests of justice rather than vengeance or vanity we shall always be with you. Never ever be ashamed of who and what you are as long as the path is of your choosing!"
"We need to go soon," Belaz said. "Kassia is very weak and can't keep this up much longer. Take good care of her, son!"
Tarik reached out to embrace his parents--
--and found himself back in the holodeck, sitting next to Kassia, holding her in his arms. "Computer, end program," he said. He led a now-exhausted Kassia back to her quarters and stayed with her the rest of the night, just to make sure she wasn't alone.