The Violin Speaks

Posted on Friday, 12 June 2020 - 10:40am by Lieutenant JG Surev

Mission: Operation: Iktomi
Location: Private Quarters, Surev and T'amar

"When you play a violin piece, you are a storyteller, and you’re telling a story."

~~

Tonight was a night for the violin and for the unexplained mystery that went along with the playing. Brahams Violin Sonata No. 3. Surev stood motionless save for the music that poured out of his soul; he played with his mind open and his eyes shut because there was an intimacy to this that moved beyond explanation. He had long since given up trying. He wasn't aware that his neighbors often opened the doors to their quarters so they could listen; he was aware of T'Amar moving about their quarters but only barely.

Vulcans valued privacy and he more than most. Starting on Surak's path at the age of ten had required stronger shields than most ever needed. Shields that could contain the confusion and lack of discipline that had been the result of living with parents who embraced wild emotion. Shields that segregated the creative heart from logic. Shields that helped him find his footing and not betray his thoughts. Shield that had forged a place of calm and peace in the midst of emotional chaos.

Privacy had been hard-won. Now, carried along by the music, his conversation at lunch came back to him, the First Officer's request threading through his thoughts and the notes themselves. Understandable and incomprehensible at the same time. Knowledge was always to be sought and to teach, to enlighten, was not something to be avoided. The logical part of him understood this.

The music flowed out of his soul, somehow preventing him from turning away from inward discussion. This was a difficult, challenging piece. Surev turned inward, diving into himself, and without realizing it, began to sway ever so slightly. A minute, barely perceptible movement that gave the discerning mind a glimpse of the battle waged within.

It was a fanciful notion but it could be said that his bond with T'amar was like a golden rope that stretched between her and him, securely fastened on both ends. They had only to touch its length and the other would know. Its presence was as much a part of him as his hands or his mind. She was with him in a way that no one else had ever been. It sustained. It mattered.

It was private.

To share that with another?

And yet ...

There had been a girl who went unprepared and unknowing into a simpler meld and came out screaming and frightened. An undisciplined telepath wanting to forge an intimacy that neither was ready to experience. To share in such a way was difficult. It went a step beyond. Opened doors that had never been opened before. Forced a type of honesty that non-telepaths didn't understand until it happened. He remembered the girl, once so at ease and free with emotions he sought to eliminate, how she had turned inward and withdrawn from the rawness of the exposure.

To prevent another from going through such a thing was important to do.

The music flowed, entwined in his thoughts, but calmer now. Softer. Wrapped in understanding and the willingness to do what he could.

Finally, there were no thoughts at all. Just an outpouring of the soul.

A Post by

Lt. JG Surev
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Standing Bear