SIM:Kevin Breeman - Ignorant of Your Contribution
A bit more discussion and thought on autism.
- Lt. Kevin Breeman - Ignorant of Your Contribution*
((OOC: Anyone wondering why there's an F-22 Raptor in this sim may wish to read this: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/SB118-Independence/message/15103 and http://groups.yahoo.com/group/SB118-Independence/message/15117 ))
((SB118 - Dry Dock Commercial Sector))
::T'tala's method for making friends was unique to say the least. It
sounded like she had set up some kind of algorithm and he knew that the fact
that she'd done this made his autism seem less significant. Doubting
himself didn't seem as warranted now that this woman seemed to have adopted
something that would make her seem extremely odd herself. Indeed, her
clinical view of friendship was a peculiar attempt at a fusion between logic
and emotion. T'tala had sinned mortally against both Terran and Vulcan
custom and yet no one had punished her, it seemed.::
T'tala: Through my method, I have experience in acquiring one friend and one partner for romantic experimentation. ::He almost choked when she said that. The ethical implications of doing such a thing were curious to be sure.:: I acquired another "naturally", and although we have not strictly and verbally confirmed our friendship yet, I feel that it is already cemented in place. I have not encountered any failures as of the current time.
Breeman: I agree. I think... ::He mustered his courage, trying to sound as human and as truthful as he could. He wanted to show her, to show himself, that he could do this.:: you've done a great job. We're both friends. We've become acquainted with one another.
::Again her smile came and Kevin felt himself growing more accustomed to it.
The eyes showed the same intensity they always had and he still found it
difficult to look directly into them but he forced himself nonetheless.::
T'tala: This is entirely agreeable. I was going to ask you first, but I'm glad you asked. We are friends now.
::He grinned at that and felt welling up in him the same pressure he'd felt
back on the Ronin when Cmdr Maria had discussed her peculiar empathic
visualizations with himself and Lt. Gregory. He ventured,::
Breeman: There's something that happened to me recently that made me think I couldn't make friends. ::Pausing, he continued,:: I think I was wrong.
::T'tala tilted her head and Kevin felt his eyes looking away again. No, he
couldn't do that. If he did it he would start talking as though no one were
around, as though he were speaking merely for effect at no one in
particular. He remembered his grandfather's mentioning doing that in his
T'tala: That sounds unfortunate- may I ask what happened?
::How could he tell someone this? How could he tell someone that who he was
had been changed so irrevocably in as much time as it took to read a letter
that put everything in his life into place, that explained why both he and
the world had seemed so different? He looked into her eyes and said,::
Breeman: Someone told me I had been living with a strange disease all my life and I thought that now that I knew I would not be able to make friends because of what the disease had done to me.
::He could see her face changing, sadness creeping into her eyes.::
T'tala: That is extremely regrettable.
::He felt at once a peculiar mix of fear and love. Someone perhaps
appreciated this and was empathizing. Soon it was all replaced by guilt.
He chastised himself for playing the part of a small child trying to get
attention for himself.::
T'tala: If I helps, I had not sensed that you were any different from any other human I have met-
::And that was precisely what the problem was. Was he really different?
How had he entered society undetected even by himself? And yet so many
around him had observed subtly and often lightly peculiarities. Was this a
disease or just a category? Was he afflicted or merely somehow modified?::
T'tala: although you seem to possess a higher degree of intellect than most, beyond even some Vulcans I know of and certainly beyond my own. You also appear to be honest and forthright with your words, which I find refreshing. Your friendship is most agreeable... ::When she said,:: although I am uncertain what I can contribute.
::Kevin felt like he might cry. Immediately the image of the ancient F-22
flashed back into his mind and he imagined himself throttling back lest the
airframe risk breaking the invisible barrier again. Lest he risk carrying
out the counsellor's assignment from so long ago.
He forced himself to smile and said,::
Breeman: I think you're contributing quite a lot.
T'tala: I do not meant to pry, but may I ask... is the issue treatable?
::Slowly he began to nod. Was it? Was it even a disease? Perhaps he had
already been treated.::
Breeman: I'm not really sure.
::Part of him thought this was funny, while another thought it serious, with
perhaps far-reaching implications.::
::As the conversation turned toward programming Kevin inevitably found
himself bringing up the flies. He told T'tala about his LCARS system and
his tricorder widgets. He couldn't stop thinking about the Vaadwaur flies
and their horrible uses.::
T'tala: Did you design them yourself, or did you have existing blueprints or functional examples to work with?
::Did he? Completely forgetting that they'd then been talking about an
academy project he'd done he said,::
Breeman: Yes, I reverse engineered them. They were being used to brainwash our people so I rewrote their code to brainwash the Vaadwaur.
::T'tala moved her hand down toward her hip and she looked to be in thought.
Kevin decided perhaps he should try to shift the focus of the conversation
off of himself. He'd regained his composure and he knew that to continue to
talk about himself would be rude and boring to T'tala.::
Breeman: Do you enjoy security?
::She blinked and began, seeming more Vulcan now than she had a moment
T'tala: I... feel it is the best application of my particular skill set. I find performing a task, and performing it well, agreeable to me. I possess above average physical strength, acceptable coordination and sufficient stamina for most tasks. I was the second best marksman in my group, before Crewman Thomas was killed and I... inherited... the title, once I had recovered from my injuries.
::Injuries? It seemed fitting that he ask her to elaborate.::
T'tala: I was shot in the hip by one of the Vaadwaur leaders, Marari, in a failed attempt to board the USS Independence-A. I lost seven percent of my pelvis and severely damaged my right hip joint, along with surrounding tissue and cartilage. A prosthesis was considered but ultimately not necessary. I have almost made a complete recovery at this point, although I have not reattempted my physical exam for obvious reasons.
::Kevin nodded, beginning to muster sympathy, to leave himself and try to
occupy T'tala and her experiences.::
Breeman: ::He shuddered slightly at the thought of a damaged pelvis and said,:: That sounds painful. I'm glad you recovered. How did you... If you don't mind my asking..
T'tala: It was extraordinarily painful, but I was able to put the pain out of my mind. I lost much blood. Fortunately, my life, my mobility and my children were not taken from me. Credit for this belongs to Doctor Fiona Shelley and Doctor Tenzin Zhou, although it was Captain Sidney Riley who saved my mate...
::He smiled, remembering the captain and his attempts at making a good first
impression with her.::
T'tala: Have you ever been wounded in the line of duty?
::He remembered back to the Ixvapyan hostage situation, when he'd been held
Breeman: I was... held at knife point. It wasn't really an injury. It took a bit to get over though.
::How had he let that slip out? He remembered the counselling session when
he'd allowed himself to cry in front of someone else for the first time
since his childhood. He remembered the image of the F-22 breaking the sound
barrier and felt again the roaring airframe inside his mind as he looked at
T'tala. She had inadvertently destroyed much of the gnawing doubts he'd
felt about himself ever since receiving his mother's letter.::
- Lt. Kevin Breeman*
- Asst Chief of Engineering*
- USS Victory*
A bit of irony.
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