Anechoic Chamber

Posted on Wed Sep 18th, 2024 @ 5:56pm by Lieutenant Commander Greep & Ensign Aenardha Sh'vastarth

Mission: The Only Thing Left Was Hope
Location: Warp Nine's Vessel
Timeline: current

Aenardha was in her oversized shirt. Her feet were bare and she lightly stepped from her makeshift quarters, out of the walk-in freezer through the galley, down the hall, to the Bridge. All the while, she stepped lightly ensuring she did not step on anything or run into anything. She did not want to stub her toe and took extra care to keep that from happening. She felt about the walls for some guidance and used her memory of the ship to navigate. She did not know this ship as well as the Pandora and there was no one on board whose vision she could utilize to see for herself. Not that she could tap into public vision even if they were aboard as her telepathic abilities were still shot. Blinking, Aenardha realized even her eyes were still shot; bloodshot. It felt as though grains of sand had been thrown into her face. Rubbing them would have not brough respite but would only make matters worse.

Arriving in the Bridge, "Greep," she said. No response. Feeling along the walls with outstretched arms, she turned and left the Bridge and made her way to the lounge. It was a short trek, made longer with the extra care she was taking. Aenardha almost made a wrong turn at one point but remembered that was for the lavatory, not the lounge.

The door slid open and she entered the lounge. "Greep," she said again. "Are you in here?"

With the ship in orbit around Risa, and with Zo and Warp Nine off ship, Greep had found solace in the ship's quaint but charming lounge, which had a mini-bar at the far end and a nice sitting area with comfortable chairs and a cozy couch. Greep was spread out on the couch, in the middle of reading an e-book on a PADD when Aenardha walked in. He set down the PADD.

"Indeed," the blue-furred, beaked simian Ontarion responded.

"I...uh," she stepped further into the lounge. "It feels like an anechoic chamber in here." She moved about, feeling with outstretched hands to find a seat near Greep to claim. "I know you wanted quiet time, but...can we talk a moment?"

"We're talking now," he squawked, cocking his head in a rather bird-like motion.

"Yeah. I know," she said. "I was hoping..." During her time aboard the Pandora, Aenardha had seen sights greater than she could have imagined, had become a member of a crew who lifted her up and helped her to be the strongest version of herself. However, overextending her abilities lead her to this state, a temporary(?) state with zero telepathy. There was no telepathic sight, sound, sensations, emotions, nothing she could tap into. And it felt like an anechoic chamber; the quietest possibly chamber with absolute zero sound. And it was driving up Aenardha's anxiety somewhat. All she wanted was for, "...you to tell me a story. Not a bedtime story. Something real. Your experiences aboard that Pandora before my arrival, a previous assignment. I heard you were aboard a ship called the Tornado? How you got into Starfleet. Just...anything you want to talk about."

"I don't want to talk about anything," Greep replied in his usual hard-to-read tone.

Aenardha recalled the mannerism of Greep, figured he would not want to talk, and was ready to give this up when...

"However," he continued, "I am always happy to help a friend." Greep sat up straight and set the PADD down on the coffee table. He clicked several times before he spoke again.

"I am currently reading a novel from twenty-second century Earth called 'Red Passions of Mars.' I believe the genre is known as 'trashy romance.' The author is very asphyxiated on the pleasures of the process of human reproduction, specifically about what the experience would be like on Mars. When I was on the Tornado, my friends Tiffany and Brad talked about those books. It sounded silly to me until Brad remarked how all the characters are 'one-dimensional.' Being someone of three dimensions, I find the possibility for such a being to exist fascinating. So far, that part of the book hasn't happened yet. Also, the writing is very poor and the characters aren't very interesting."

Aenardha was not familiar with anything that was regarded as trashy romance. And it sounded like something she would want to avoid regardless. "I think you may have misunderstood the meaning when you were told the characters are 'one-dimensional.' From my experience in reading, that typically means the characters are boring; they don't grow as people within the story of the book. You generally feel nothing for them from beginning to end. One-dimensional is just a way of saying the book is not really any good. Not to mean there is some meta-physical anomaly contained within. These friends of yours," she wanted to get off off the topic of that book, "do you know where they are now?"

Greep's head jerked to the side for a second and clicked a few times. "I believe they are married now and living on Earth. Lieutenant Zo may be a better person to ask. I've never done a good job staying in touch with people, but we both worked on the Tornado at the same time they did."

"The Tornado," Aenardha repeated the word. "I recall that being a case study assignment during my Intelligence course at the Academy. I was not assigned that case study. I chose socio-political constructs of the Breen Confederacy. I recall the end-of-cycle presentation of the Tornado being very interesting though."

"That couldn't have been very long ago," Greep squawked. "The Tornado's files were declassified only a few years ago. I will admit, they would be an interesting read. We spent most of our time trying to diffuse a Klingon civil war." His head jerked to the side, then bobbed for a minute. "I'm sure by the time it made its way to the Academy some of the details were sensationalized. I'd be interested to know who teaches the course."

"Oh the instructor was named Malcolm Reid. Not THE Malcolm Reid of the NX-01 Enterprise," she added, "but...well he never said if he was related to that Reid or not." She thought briefly on that then let it go. Aenardha was feeling better. Having spoken to someone had eased her anxiety. She hoped to never lose her telepathy permanently and hoped that the tests her and Zo were planning would help reach that end. "Anyway, I've kept you long enough. I should let you get back to your book."

"If you wish," replied Greep. "Though I found our conversation far more intriguing than the book. Thank you for interrupting me."

Aenardha was only half way leaning forward and about to stand when she aborted the attempt. She actually found the conversation intriguing as well. Far more intriguing than the silence in her head. "I...really...can not have think of much to talk about. Was mostly looking to talk to end this anechoic chamber of a head I have right now. Um..." and she tried thinking of something to talk about, felt awkward all the while.

"You have used that term before, anechoic chamber..." Greep said. "Is that a metaphor?" Greep shifted on the couch and sat up straighter. Even for a race as socially awkward as Ontarions, it still signified a look of curiosity. Aenardha now had his full attention.

"Metaphor?" she repeated. "Yes. An anechoic chamber is a chamber...a room if you will...where the walls are designed to absorb noise; all forms of noise. No noise is bounced around. No echo. Hence anechoic. I could speak and you would hear me, but, as I finish speaking, you would hear no reverberation, no echo. In fact, it is said that sitting in such a room for any amount of time, you would be able to hear your own blood circulating through your veins; hear your own heart thumb like a drum." She looked in his general direction, nearly in the eye. "I use the metaphor because, without my telepathic abilities, it is the most silent I have ever experienced. I know I cannot read Ontarions at all, but at the very least, I would be able to hear the thoughts of everyone on the planet below. I would pick it up as telepathic white noise if you are familiar with the term. Right now though..." and she shook her head as a way of finishing her thought. "And it is a little frightening I admit."

"I'm aware of what an anechoic chamber is," Greep said. "That is a term I would not have thought of, but it makes sense."

He clicked a few times before he continued. "Before selecting you for this task force, I reviewed your physical and psychological records, as well as any information I could access regarding physical and mental capacity of an Aenar your age and gender. You do not have any permanent damage. You would not be able to have this conversation so soon if you did. The fact you are awake enough to be out here is an indication that your healing process is going quite well. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours. So do not be in distress. My judgment was sound. You are quite safe, and have plenty of time to rest and recover."

Aenardha opened her mouth a time or two only to close it again. Each time only a single syllable escaped forth. She looked down, away, back in Greep's general direction. She was stuck on his review of her psychological records. "You reviewed a lie. At least you read an embellishment of my psychological records. They left out the event that got me away from Andoria in the first place. You see, we Aenar, especially the females, are generally stuck on Andoria. We sometimes find ourselves the subject of arranged marriages. In my case, if I was ever to leave and see the stars, I needed to marry a ship's captain. It was not something I ever wanted but my parents arranged one anyway and...and when Khrap showed to ask my hand in marriage, I declined. As a typical Andorian, he got aggressive with me. Abusive, though only verbally. He got in my face and...and though he was practically ordering me to accept his hand, I pressed the cups of my antenna to his. This connection produces a near physical link between our minds. I was upset. Upset at him, my family, the whole situation. I implanted a thought so deep in his mind and so horrifying that...that Khrap fell into a pile on the floor, shaking and scream in bloody horror. Even today, he is undergoing therapy in a mental hospital."

Greep clicked. "That must have been a terrifying experience, but I did not look into your personal history. I was referring to your medical records. Prior to this mission, you were physically healthy and your mental capabilities were in the required parameters for an Aenar female officer. My judgment is still sound." He clicked a couple times. "And so is my faith, if you need it."

"Thank you Greep," she said. "I appreciate that. And...it was my mental capabilities that I wanted to...touch on," though her first word was going to be 'warn.' "If I am able to lose patience, and self control, and implant a thought that would send a ship's captain to a mental hospital...then I wanted you to know that before you put too much faith into me." Aenardha thought a short second. "You are the first person I have told that to. In fact, I am under orders not to tell anyone. So, if we could keep this between us..."

"I am very good at keeping secrets," Greep responded, in a manner that was both reassuring and cryptic. Greep hoped that, while he kept Aenardha's secret safe and sound, she would never have to learn any of his.

END