Closed Case

Posted on Fri 14th Jun, 2024 @ 10:35pm by Commander Paul Graves PsyD & Lieutenant Damion Ildaran

1,416 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: O' the Cardiff Rose
Location: Chief Counselor's Office, Deck 83
Timeline: MD-16

"Lieutenant, please come in," Paul said in greeting to the intelligence officer who stood at the doorway to his office. He gave Ildaran a quick studying look. The man's emotions were muted in the way that many intelligence officers were trained to accomplish in the presence of Betazoids, but the overall impression Paul received was of deep sadness. That wasn't like him.

"Hello, sir," Damion replied. He entered Paul's office with no further attempt at conversation and simply sat in one of the guest chairs at Paul's desk.

Not in a chatty mood today, Paul surmised. He walked with Ildaran and took the seat behind his desk. "It's been a while since I've seen you. How did the mission go?"

That elicited a confused knot of emotions. "Admiral Adrian Dobbs is dead," Ildaran said after a moment. "We collected as much evidence as we could. Then we destroyed his lab and sent the victims home for burial. He can't harm anyone else, any more."

Paul's eyes widened. "That's what it was all about?" He let out a breath. "Thank the Four Deities." He paused as Ildaran gave him a brief nod in agreement. "And...yet you're feeling frustrated by that. What happened?"

Damion sighed. "Someone else got to him first--his backers, we think. Remotely turned off his life support and wiped all of his data. We sent the computers out to forensics, but I doubt we'll ever be able to trace whoever did it. The program they used had a self-destruct sequence. All the SFCIS people could uncover was gibberish; everything else was wiped clean. It'll take a serious specialist team to recover anything."

"Will you be searching for the backers?" Paul asked.

Damion shook his head. "My part in it is done. I'm not happy, because we couldn't bring Dobbs or his backers to justice, but I'm satisfied that at least no one else will ever suffer at his hands. That chapter is done. If similar experimentation shows up again, it will be someone else's job to investigate it. I need to let go of it. I've taken it as far as I can stand to."

Paul nodded. "I think that's entirely a good thing. You need a rest from it. Is it hard letting go?"

Damion pursed his lips. "It is and it isn't. Partly, the case was nothing but one big horror and frustration. I feel drained from it. Partly, I don't care anymore. There are other things occupying my mind. I want to think of something other than the Dobbs case. I want to think of...things that are beautiful."

"I can well understand that, after the hideousness that was the Dobbs case," Paul said. "Do you ever meditate?"

Damion shook his head and rubbed at his eyes. "Only when I need to, when I want to calm myself. Not as a daily practice."

"You should consider doing it daily, for five minutes in the morning or evening, say. Do the breathing and think of things that make you feel peaceful and happy. Let everything else slip away from your focus. You can think of work-related things later. Meditation time is for just you."

"I'll think about it," Damion said, sounding dubious at the idea.

Paul decided to change the subject. "Were you able to tolerate the space walk?"

Damion have a halfhearted laugh. "That actually went reasonably well. Only a little fear, no bad memories."

"I'm glad to hear that!" Paul smiled at him. "Now that the Dobbs case is closed, what's next for you? Will you continue with SFCIS or stay in Intelligence? Or do something else entirely?"

Damion thought about it. "I've already returned to Intelligence. Technically, I was only ever on loan to SFCIS in a liaison capacity. I think I'm a bit too...secretive to work well in law enforcement long term. Maybe I'll do something else in the future, but a friend of mine just died. it's hit me hard, and right now, I'm finding I want to be surrounded by familiar things."

"I'm very sorry to hear that, Damion," Paul said. "I wondered what was going on; you're quite sad today. If you ever want to talk about it, you know I'm here."

"Thanks." Damion let out a breath. Then he gave Paul a curious look. "Do you believe in God? I mean really believe, not just from growing up with it in your culture."

"I believe in the Four Deities of Betazed," Paul told him. "I suspect you could say I am more of a casual worshiper than a serious one, though. Why?"

"I've never believed in a god; you don't learn to, growing up on Turkana; but my friend deeply believed in God. It was one of the most beautiful and surprising things about her. I want to learn more about it, just as a way to honor her memory. I'm not even certain which deity she believed in; she always just called it God. Very generic."

"That sounds like what many Terrans call it, my father among them."

"Makes sense," Damion said after a moment, "that it would be a Terran name, I mean."

"Your friend was from Earth?"

"Yes," Damion said.

He was lying, Paul could tell, but in that firm, matter-of-fact way that intelligence officers lied; so that anyone but an empath might swear they were telling the truth. He didn't press Ildaran about the falsehood. Intelligence officers had their secrets to keep.

"I don't know if there are any Terran religious sites here on 109, but it might help you to talk to a priest of some sort," Paul said. "I think there's a small Bajoran shrine in Brown Sector, and I think there's a religious center near the consulate decks. I think that place caters to many different faiths, so it might be the best place to find someone trained in one of the Earth religions." He gave Damion a look. "It's important that you find someone who is trained with a seminary degree. Someone who has merely memorized their holy book and preaches on the Promenade won't suffice. Do your research before you talk to anyone. You need someone who is a genuine religious counselor, not someone who just preaches, understand?"

Damion blinked. "Not really, but I'll follow your advice, sir."

"Good. Trying to learn about religion while you're grieving is not ideal. I don't want you to get hurt."

That got Ildaran's attention, though he still looked puzzled. "Thank you for the caution and the advice."

"You're welcome," Paul said. "Let's get back on a regular meeting schedule. I'd like to see you twice a month for a couple of months, and then shift to a monthly schedule once you're feeling better. Have you taken any time off?"

"I took off a week when it first happened. Now I'm in the 'dragging myself through life' stage. I don't need more time off; I need to occupy myself."

His affect was so flat, not at all like the animated person Paul remembered from not so long ago. He went to his replicator. "Computer, produce an adhesive message card, measuring 7cm x 12cm, that reads, 'How do you feel?'"

The replicator dinged, and a small, white card appeared on the build tray, with the message printed in all caps. Paul handed it to Damion. "Affix this to a wall in your quarters--not your workplace--someplace where you'll be forced to see it frequently but will have privacy. When you see it, ask yourself the question. Acknowledge how you feel in that moment, and know that it is all right for you to feel that way, no matter how you feel. When you're able to look at it, and it doesn't bother you anymore, then you can take it down."

Damion read the card. "How do I feel? How do I feel?" He glared at Paul. "Do you have any idea of the rude gesture I'd like to make at you right now, Commander?"

"I very much do," Paul said with a faint smile. "If it'll make you feel any better, you can print an image of me and throw darts at it."

"What I want to do is put my fist through your face!"

"Then we're making progress already," Paul told him. "Go home, Damion. Or, better yet, take a walk through Tivoli Gardens. Go somewhere that speaks to your soul. I'll see you in two weeks, sooner if you need."

 

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