Introspection

Shaka looked around herself... everything was dark. She was restrained to a biobed. As much as she struggled, she couldn't free herself.

"What's going on here ?" She demanded into the darkness.

"Welcome to your subconscious." A voice returned. It was her own.

"This is madness. Release me !" Shaka demanded.

"Though it be madness, yet there is method in it." Her counterpart replied.

"I hate Shakespeare." Shaka mumbled. "What's going on ?"

"You're unconscious." Her counterpart replied. "You've been heavily intoxicated; that's why your body is restrained. Everything you see here is symbolism created by your own mind."

"I hate allegories even more." Shaka muttered.

"Why are you fighting this ?"

"I want to get back to my reality." Shaka said.

"You can't lie to me." Her counterpart replied. "You're afraid. Afraid of what this might mean. What this experience will dig up. What you'll learn about yourself. You're very good at avoiding reality IN reality; you blow it off with sarcasm or anger. But in here, you're completely defenseless."

"How do I know all this ? I flunked psychology." Shaka said, struggling.

"Remember the penal colony ? Remember the psychologist ? He told you the exact same thing; must've been a decade ago, at least."

"I hated him."

"So much deep-seated anger and hate. What's up with that ?"

"You've had all the answers so far; you tell me."

"I admit it...." The subconscious replied.".....that was a rhetorical question. I just want you to admit your reasons, if you know them at all."

"Well, I spent a lot of time in a penal colony... maybe that's why ?" Shaka asked sarcastically.

"Your sarcastic comments aren't very helpful. You and I both know the reason: you're mad at yourself."

"What ?"

"Admit it. All your life, you've seen people better than you. People have berated you, degraded you, and shown you up. Now you're the only slipstream specialist in Starfleet and you've let it go to your head."

"Then how come I'm not happy ?" Shaka asked sarcastically.

"Exactly. Now you know it's not all peaches and cream at the top, and you're taking out that anger in the form of sarcasm and antipathy. You don't realize some of your comments make people feel the same way you did: inferior."

"Go away," Shaka growled.

"I'm a lot harder to repress in person." The subconscious replied, laughing.