Breaking Down Walls (Part 2)

Posted on Fri Jul 24th, 2026 @ 7:41pm by Lieutenant JG Caitlyn MacRae & Lieutenant Daltom Vesper

2,153 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: Friends and Traitors
Location: Counselor’s Office
Timeline: MD4

[LAST TIME ON BREAKING DOWN WALLS]

Daltom favored Caitlyn with an understanding smile. “You fence well with words,” he told her. “But I appreciate you letting your guard down a little. If the Captain had not offered you this and you decided to resign instead, what would you have done?”

“Gone home for a little while, consider next step and get some time with family, mend some fences with them,” she rhymed off. “Then a few weeks somewhere like Risa with just sunshine and beautiful scenery to just recharge.”

[AND NOW FOR THE CONTINUATION]

"What happened between you and your family?" Daltom inquired. "Perhaps you should start by telling me their names, too."

“I’m the youngest of five. The only girl. My eldest brother is James, then there is Lain Edward and Kyle,” the last name she uttered with an almost exasperated, yet still kind affectionate tone.

“When you are gone for months, sometimes years at a time, radio silent and then cannot tell them everything that you have done?” Caitlyn mused with a dismissive shrug. “It isn’t like life just stopped for them. I missed some big moments and some of my brothers and their partners seem to view those absences as … I don’t know if betrayal is the right word but something close to it..”

"That has to be difficult," Daltom answered. "So, you missed weddings...? Something else? Did they not know that you were in intelligence? What about your parents?" The questions were asked softly but deliberately as he tried to peel back all of the layers that made up Caitlyn.

“I believe so far I’ve missed four engagements, one admittedly quickly arranged wedding, the arrival of three nieces, two funerals, a christening and I’m not even sure how many birthdays at this point,” Caitlyn recited. “So, a lot. And I get why they are unhappy about that.”

"Well, you are doing something else now, aren't you? Do you regret anything that you have done that caused you to miss all these events?" Daltom asked, making a mental note that apparently most of Caitlyn's family appeared to be quite close, unnaturally so.

“I am. Although there is still time for the Captain to change his mind,” she grinned. “And I’m hoping that now I can maybe start to repair those relationships.”

"Well, you have six more official days than me here," Daltom told Caitlyn with a short laugh. "We newbies should hang out more together. So, if you want help with repairing those relationships, I am more than willing."

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she assured him. “Any more questions?”

"I'm making you uncomfortable, aren't I?" Daltom inquired. "The way you asked that makes it sound like you feel like you've been captured in hostile territory and interrogated."

Breathe Caitlyn…

“New subject?” She suggested without directly answering his question. Her tone was perfectly calm and betrayed nothing of how she was feeling. She focused on breathing as a simple way to refocus and not go down paths his words might invoke.

Daltom got out of his seat and went over to the replicator. "Computer, two plates with a chocolate chip cookie on each. Chewy on the inside, crispy on the outside. Also, a glass of ice water and a mug of hot chocolate." The computer obediently fulfilled the request and Daltom walked over a cookie and hot chocolate over to Caitlyn. "Here you go. Perhaps this will help?" he offered. "Maybe you should like to ask me something? Would you like that?" he asked softly as he sat back down and bit into his cookie.

A cookie and hot chocolate… she raised an eyebrow as she took the offered drink and cookie. His default of chocolate and the softness in his voice implied concern, as if she were about to shatter into a million pieces before his very eyes. Thanking him she took a sip of the hot chocolate and then set the cookie aside, opting to nurse the drink in both hands.

“Thanks….” She offered, not wishing to appear rude. “And maybe… I don’t know… maybe tell me why you became a counselor?”

"I wasn't much good at science," he told Caitlyn with a nonchalant shrug and uncomfortable chuckle. "And it was a route for upward mobility," he admitted more straightforwardly.

She listened, curious about his background and people but he looked as uncomfortable as she felt. “Cookie?” She asked, offering him the chocolate treat.

"I'm alright," he answered. "I doubt you know much about Ardana other than it produces zenite."

“Two tier society, a cloud city …? It’s been a while since I read up on anywhere I wasn’t being sent to, I’m sorry.”

Daltom nodded. "You have just said more than most people know. A hundred years ago, Kirk came to my planet and found that zenite gas was causing Troglytes, the miners on the planet, intelligence and other sociological issues. Once the Enterprise found a cure, they referred our disputes to the Bureau of Industrialization. That did not do much. The Cloud folks made certain we were given equal facilities, but they are not due to the prejudices that built over the years. So, while they live above and still live fancy lives, the Troglytes live below and mine. I'm a Trog," he told Caitlyn simply.

“And a person, and a Starfleet Officer,” she added quietly. “Who helps rescue lost kittens.”

"Sometimes. What ever became of the kitten?" Daltom asked.

“I found a new home for her on the station. But she ended up as my roommate… it’s a work in progress but she seems to be settling in just fine,” Caitlyn assured him.

"That's good," Daltom confirmed. "Have you had enough hot chocolate? Steady your nerves some?"

“I guess that depends on what comes next,” she pointed out. She had certainly managed to ease the tension out of her muscles and was more relaxed as she sat in her chair but then again, they had been talking about him. Not touching on her past. In truth she was annoyed at herself, she should be able to sail through these things and certainly had more than once. But she wasn’t that person anymore - or at least she didn’t want to be.

"Well, let me let you direct this some. Tell me more about yourself. So far, all I really know is that you're a savior to lost kittens, like chocolate, and like the color black."

“I am a private person, so you’ve done amazingly well,” she told him.

"Maybe, but you're wrapped up tighter than a ball of string encased in an iron locked case that is encased in a container that has a combination code that is changing every few minutes. It makes me wonder who or what has hurt you so much," he told her sympathetically.

She considered his words, at least long enough to take a drink. He was funny. Kind of. “I much prefer to focus on the here and now, where you can find yourself rescuing a kitten,” she said simply. “Is that so bad?”

"I certainly can understand that. Responding only to the here and now is simple, direct, and gets the job done. It probably is extremely useful for doing intelligence work. Concentrate on the task. Don't worry about the ramifications. Just get it done. However, it does not deal with all the fallout trauma. There's a lot of PTSD for people in your shoes. Based on what you're showing me, that's just the tip of the iceberg with you."

Daltom shifted in his chair. "You see, Caitlyn, you have so much packed in there, that if much more is piled on top or someone hits whatever may loosen the load, it is all going to explode. I can help you diffuse that with time and patience. I can't force you. I won't force you. However, if you do not let me help, I fear that you may put yourself, the crew, or the ship in danger and then I'd really have to do something that I don't want to do...."

Her eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t….”

Even as she said it she knew he would. He had to. His words were a reminder though. Not only did she have more people than ever around her - who had her back as Erik would say - it was more people to be responsible for.

Taking a deep breath she stared at her hands for a moment before she sighed. “I promise you I am not going to explode,” she assured him, “but fine.”

"I believe your good intentions, Caitlyn." He smiled at her but his eyes looked pained. "I promise you that nothing you tell me here will ever leave my lips as long as we can keep you from exploding. Besides, even if we were not in here, I would want to know more about you. At worst, I could use someone else to work out with, right?"

“Sure. I’m not great company though, I like listening to loud music, block out all else. It gives me a kind of escape I guess. Helps me focus, clear my head,” she confided.

She hesitated a moment before continuing. Perhaps offering up a little would satisfy him enough to end this? Although she suspected he would see right through such a ploy.

“I sometimes struggle to sleep,” she confided, sounding as if the words were being ripped from her throat. “New surroundings, undercover life where someone would sooner slit your throat than look at you…. And then, not long after I came aboard the ship - the shapeshifter attacked.”

Daltom nodded along politely as he listened to Caitlyn speak. “I disagree with your assessment. I like your company and would like to have more of it. I would also like to help you sleep and really would like to not use drugs if at all possible. But, you said something about the shapeshifter now and when I first met you. Tell me about the attack. How did that whole situation occur?”

“It was the middle of the night, maybe around two or three in the morning. I was unable to sleep, so I was heading to sickbay to see if I could get something to help. Anyway, I passed one of the store rooms on this deck… someone had clearly started restocking supplies but it was quiet.

I assumed they had just gone on a break or been called away… although I don’t remember giving it too much attention.

But then, as I passed, I thought I heard something. It wasn’t loud; it just seemed odd. My first thought wasn’t some attacker lurking in the dark, it was just that maybe whoever was inside needed help. So I went inside.”

She shook her head. “It was a stupid mistake and I made it worse by being loud. I was just a little ways inside when I realised someone was definitely there and it was… have you ever stood in the dark in an old house and just felt like there are things there? Reaching for you? It was a little like that. And then it was there.

We found out later it was a shapeshifter, and it looked like the crew member who had been working in that room. Young, taller but nothing which should have been a threat. But it just didn’t seem right and the voice was just wrong.

This thing hit hard. I’ve been in a lot of fights and this was …intense. At some point I was knocked out with a few broken bones for good measure. I can’t remember much after that.

When I came around, it was gone. Afterwards, we discovered this thing had been moving through the ship, taking the form of crewmembers he had been able to get close to. Unfortunately it killed one of the crew as it fled the ship.”

She leaned forward. “The doctor healed the injuries and I went back to work. But something that thing said just keeps going round and round in my head - fight me. It said it in the store room and I perhaps stupidly obliged. It didn’t occur to me to try to call security, although I didn’t actually have time at that point. It was that fast.

I don’t know why it wanted to fight me and not the three - I think - people before. But what makes it worse is it kept on hurting people on the ship and eventually killed someone. If I had done better, stopped it from leaving that store room.…”

She left the rest unsaid, staring at her cooling hot chocolate.

[TO BE CONTINUED]

Lieutenant Daltom Vesper
Chief Counselor
USS Thunderbird

Lieutenant Caitlyn MacRae
Second Officer
USS Thunderbird

 

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