Filter of Logic

Posted on Thu Apr 24th, 2025 @ 6:23am by Lieutenant JG Sylorik MD & Lieutenant Commander Alicia Kelea-Salik

Mission: MISSION 0 - History Speaks
Location: Counseling Suite, Deck 14, USS Elysium
Timeline: 3 Days prior to Circinus (Six months ago)
2021 words - 4 OF Standard Post Measure

The chair was too soft.

Sylorik sat quietly, his buttocks overly-cradled by the plush chair that seemed to lack good support. The cushioning gave under his weight in a way that felt too yielding and warm. Too welcoming, thought Sylorik. He shifted uncomfortably in the chair until finding an acceptable position that allowed him comfort without feeling like he was sinking into quicksand.

Aside from the furniture, Sylorik was at ease. Psychological evaluations were quite common for anyone with a career in medicine or trauma and he had witnessed first-hand many occasions where other medical professionals had required debriefs and sessions with qualified psychologists to cope with emotionally-charged situations.

Vulcan doctors were no exception to psychological distress. Though, the approach used on Vulcan involved plenty of meditation and rarely required speaking about one's feelings.

Behind his composed exterior, Sylorik's mind ticked in precise intervals. He had mastered the accepted method of Vulcan breathing as a child--the cycle of four: inhale, hold, exhale, and stillness.

Across from Sylorik, seated with practiced ease was Lieutenant Commander Alicia Kelea-Salik. She was watching him, not sensing. Obviously, she could not penetrate the Vulcan emotional barrier but Sylorik had no doubt she could read body language to the most minute detail--a pause here, some facial tension there.

Meditation helped. Mostly. But there were 'episodes' that seemed to bleed through--a tremor in his hands usually being the first sign. He was disciplined enough to focus his thoughts and breathe his way through these episodes in most cases, but not always.

When meditation failed, Sylorik relied on an external remedy--a drug. It was a compound that had been synthesized by Romulans decades ago and had been used in some clinical trials on Vulcan when he had discovered it. It wasn't a sanctioned drug nor was it legal. However, it was effective at treating his more severe episodes when he would find himself near-seizure. He secretly hoped he would have enough doses for the coming weeks and months aboard Elysium and he only used it sparingly.

He had battled with himself over the past decade--was it logical to use an unsanctioned drug? The response itself had also formed a question: was it logical to end his purpose in life by admitting the traumatic distress he was suffering? He knew himself to be a gifted surgeon with the ability to save lives and provide the best care for every patient he encountered. Any notion that he step aside and live the rest of his life in seclusion while his prestigious career was tarnished was utterly absurd. He considered himself a net positive--all things considered.

No, he would continue as a doctor. Perhaps one day he would not need a drug and his life would continue as it had on Vulcan before the incident that derailed everything. The incident he could never share with another.

Sylorik considered the woman across from him and how she held enough power to not only remove him from Starfleet, but end his career as a surgeon with a few words. But that would not happen, he told himself. She would ask questions. He would answer truthfully. Just not entirely.

He folded his hands in his lap, fingers interlocked, thumbs tightly pressed just enough to ward off the tremor that might otherwise betray him. He did not fidget but he remained alert. A man under a microscope.

He studied the subtle curvature of Alicia's lips--neither frown nor smile. Simply waiting.

Alicia was used to dealing with the Vulcan mind, and persona being married to a Vulcan herself. She offered a warm, yet respectable smile as she looked towards Sylorik from where she sat. “I realise that Counselling sessions aren’t usually the norm for Vulcan officers, but given your career choice, and your PTSD it has become a requirement.” She paused. “So tell me how you’re… doing today?” She purposely avoided the word feeling knowing to a Vulcan that would be inappropriate.

Sylorik looked upward, as if searching for the response. "My physiological state is satisfactory," he replied bringing his eyes back to the Counselor. "My psychological state is also satisfactory."

He suddenly felt tension beginning to build around his temples and ignored the urge give himself a gentle massage fearing Alicia might interpret the move as a sign of stress. Sylorik returned to her question. "If you're referring to my adjustment to life aboard Elysium, that has also been satisfactory." He thought about what had changed. "I have reviewed the crew's medical files and established routine procedures in Sickbay under the guidance of Doctors Sthilg and Mora-Heath. I find the environmental settings tolerable. The lighting cycles are... less disorienting than I anticipated."

There was another pause. He did not avert his gaze though his thumbs pressed together tighter. "I presume your inquiry is intended to assess emotional wellness. I assure, Commander, I remain capable of fulfilling my duties."

Sylorik suddenly wished he hadn't spoken so much and now felt slightly out-of-character.

“I have your records in-front of me Sylorik, they do note your…struggles, with PTSD.” Alicia paused. “Be assured I do not intend to go digging through your past to assess you, I have all the information I need. I’m not a Counsellor who believes in unnecessarily digging into old wounds so-to-speak, I do however notice when someone is in discomfort and trying to keep under wraps.” She motioned to his thumbs. “Did you know that I’m married to a Vulcan? It gives me certain insights into the Vulcan way of doing things.”

Sylorik's gaze lingered on her hand as it motioned toward his. He resisted the impulse to unclasp his fingers.

"Then that would explain your perceptiveness," he replied, tone neutral with a tiny spark of warmth. "I... do not often meet humans who understand restraint without perception."

There was a pause--precisely measured.

"My symptoms are managed," he continued. "I am functional. Present. I contribute to Sickbay operations without error."

He studied Alicia for a long moment and concluded he had misjudged her intentions.

"May I inquire," he said, shifting slightly in the plush chair. "How your husband navigates the intersection of logic and emotion. Such a union would require... mutual calibration." There was no sarcasm in his tone. If anything, the question seemed genuinely curious. A way to learn--or redirect.

Alicia smiled. “Savar and I share what I know is a unique bond, given that Vulcans normally pair with other Vulcans. Savar has taught me much about controlling my own emotions, I even find myself seeing things in a Vulcan manner sometimes.” She grinned. “It also allows me to feel and see the love that Savar feels for me, others may not see the hidden emotion but I see it and feel it. As for…mutual calibration, it took me time to adjust to being bonded, the sheer strength of emotion Vulcans feel during Pon’farr was almost overwhelming.”

Sylorik inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the significance of her words. "It is... statistically rare for such bonds to thrive. Yet clearly, yours has." He paused, then added lightly, "You describe the experience with clarity. One might say... enviable calibration."

He was quiet for a moment. "It is not often that I encounter one who understands what Vulcans endure, emotionally," he said the last with his voice low. "Even fewer do so without... intrusion or judgment."

After a long moment, he looked up at her, expression carefully composed. "Do you believe that control... always serves healing?"

“I think it depends on the person” Alicia offered as she looked at him. “There are Vulcans, or have been, that allow their emotions rather than purge them. It’s an individual choice, but I would say that in order to heal you need to face what caused the trauma to begin with. Only then can you truly heal.”

Sylorik considered her response carefully. "There is logic in what you say." He hesitated, then added. "Some wounds are not caused by what was faced, but by what was survived. And survival... does not always permit examination."

Alicia nodded. “Survivors guilt does.” She gave Sylorik an understanding gaze. “Just because you’re Vulcan it doesn’t mean that you can’t suffer the same as anyone else. To deny the emotion and hide it away will only do you more harm in the long run. If you would prefer to speak with a Vulcan counsellor, Savar is a member of the counselling staff here aboard ship I can refer you to him if you wish?”

"I am... not yet prepared to discuss my... circumstances with a Vulcan peer," Sylorik admitted, voice low and eyes downcast. "The expectation of emotional discipline among our kind often leaves little space for imperfection." He folded his hands and resumed his breathing pattern. "You, however, seem to understand that we are not immune to suffering. That is unexpected. And appreciated."

Alicia nodded. “I understand, but trust me when I say Savar would have no expectations of how you should or should not behave. I am more than happy to continue to help you. It’s not something I usually ask but how would you prefer we continue with your treatment?”

Sylorik looked at Alicia and then down at his folded hands. "I believe continuing these sessions would be beneficial. A familiar environment and a familiar mind." He paused and brought his hands up slightly, resting his elbows on the armrest. "When I arrived here with you, I was uncomfortable but it is now clear to me that your goal is not to judge whether I am fit to serve aboard Elysium. Rather, you are here to decide how you can help me to serve."

Alicia nodded. “I am more than honoured to help you Sylorik. I’m in a unique position being bonded to a Vulcan, I want to use that knowledge to help you as best as I can. If I should need any advice at any time, would you mind if I asked Savar’s opinion? I promise you I won’t mention your name, or any details of your case.”

"Agreed," replied Sylorik rising to his feet, his backside happy to be rid of the chair made of quicksand. Straightening his uniform, he added, "According to ship records, there are sixteen Vulcans serving aboard. Would I be correct in assuming most have consulted with Savar?"

Alicia nodded. “Most prefer to speak to another Vulcan, which I understand.” She smiled warmly. “If you do decide you want to change in the future then that will be fine. In the meantime I’ll do everything I can to help you through your difficulties. Do you have any sleep aides? Do you require any medication to help you deal with anxiety attacks?”

"My current meditation routine should be sufficient," he replied. "However, I may reconsider your offer in the future."

Alicia nodded. “Very well, if you should need any help my door is always open.” She smiled warmly. “Thank you for trusting me Sylorik.”

Sylorik returned a curt nod to Alicia. "I am pleased to have met your acquaintance, Commander."

He paused at the threshold as if debating whether to speak. The door opened but Sylorik didn't move. His voice, when it came, was quieter--measured, as though testing the air. "Commander.. does having a mate bring fulfillment?"

The question hung there, suspended like dust in a shaft of light.

He didn't turn to face her. Instead, he waited in silence, the hum of the corridor seeming to push him back as if the world beyond was too much for him. Though he remained upright, there was a subtle falter to it now--something else.

Alicia stood and moved across to Sylorik. “For me, I’d say it gives me a feeling of fulfillment. Savar and I have three children, one of which is a young Vulcan boy. His parents were killed when we were thrown into this universe.”

Sylorik lingered a moment longer. "A compelling notion," he said quietly. Then, without another word he stepped through the doorway and it closed behind him.