Breaking Down Walls (Part 3)

Posted on Sat Jul 25th, 2026 @ 11:02pm by Lieutenant Daltom Vesper & Lieutenant JG Caitlyn MacRae

2,120 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: Friends and Traitors
Location: Counselor’s Office
Timeline: MD4 1300

[LAST TIME ON BREAKING DOWN WALLS]

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.

[AND NOW FOR THE CONCLUSION]

"And without being omniscient, exactly how were you going to stop that thing in the storeroom?" Daltom asked softly.

“I don’t know. But I do know I made mistakes. And that is…” she paused, stopping herself to avoid saying one thing, and instead adding, “entirely on me.”

Daltom noticed the hesitation. "That was not what you were going to say, Caitlyn. Please tell me what you were really thinking - what you really meant to say."

“Unacceptable,” she sighed. Practically hearing it in a stern tone of voice in her ear. Straightening, she added, “and over the years mistakes make the difference between making it home or not.”

"Sometimes," Daltom answered. "But nobody is perfect. To hold yourself to a standard of perfection is unrealistic. Certainly, it is something to strive for, but the standard you set is impossible to reach." He shifted again slightly in his chair. "I can practically hear your brain telling you, 'He has to say that. He's a counselor. You know you're capable of better. You should not have let yourself get hurt. It is your fault.' Those thoughts, though, are your perfectionistic streak. If you were perfect, you would be a computer. But you're not. Also, a computer doesn't have instincts, which you do. I would bet they kept you safe more often than not. However, the brain and instincts don't always agree, do they? Sometimes one is right and other is not. Would you not agree?"

“Not really how I was raised,” she said quietly. “And yes, I know we can’t be perfect and people make mistakes … it’s just easier for me to accept that in other people than myself.”

"It is the nature of most beings to expect less of others than oneself," Daltom affirmed. "Tell me about how you were raised."

She arched an eyebrow. “You are going for all the big subjects….” She commented. “You know I have four brothers, no sisters. Not sure there is anything special in there.”

"Yes, but that tells me nothing of how you were raised. You made a rather specific point of saying that in response to not being perfect."

“It’s not important,” she stated. “Not today.”

Daltom sighed. "Caitlyn...." He let the name draw out for a moment as he gathered his thoughts and considered his next words carefully. "When we first met, you told me that trust has to be earned. That works both ways. If you want me to trust you and that you are safe, then you need to talk to me and be open with me. I can be patient and I will be for you, but as frightening as it may be, I need you to reveal more."

She was silent for a long moment. Trust was earned and while he had apparently good intentions, he was still essentially a stranger.

“If you think I am not safe, you have an obligation to report it,” she reminded him. “But if that is what you think, you are wrong. But I am not dissecting my childhood.”

"You're right, I do." Daltom got up from his chair and moved to his desk. He went into a drawer, pulled out a PADD and then starting typing on it. He then sat down back in his chair and asked Caitlyn, "Do you know how many people have thought they're fine when they're not?"

“I’m sure you are going to tell me,” she sighed, shaking her head. “Is this what you will do every time I don’t want to talk about something? Declare I may not be ‘safe’ and have the possibility of reporting that hanging over me?”

"No," he responded simply. "And that's not what I would like our relationship to be, either. I don't think you do, either," he answered, his eyes and voice softening. "Just based on our limited meetings, I believe we have a lot in common, and I would rather be working with you than against you. I want you to see me as your friend, not your enemy. To do that, though, you have to disarm yourself a bit. I will walk with you through all the scary and hurtful parts and I promise that in time, they will not hurt you like they are now."

Disarm herself?

“I already lock all my knives away, I couldn’t be any more disarmed,” she countered. “I’m sorry. I can’t just flip a switch. Keeping myself to myself kept me alive when I had to be someone else. It kept my family and those I served with safe.”

"All your knives?" Daltom asked curiously. "Regardless, I know this is difficult for you. I'm not asking you to flip a switch. I don't expect you to disclose your entire universe today. I'm asking you to turn on your dimmer. Allow a little through," he encouraged.

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Are you always so… relentless?”

Daltom grinned. "I've been called worse."

“I don’t doubt it,” she assured him, shaking her head but eventually there was the smallest hint of a smile.

"So, do you care to toy with the irresistible force or the immovable object before telling me a little about your childhood?"

“Fine,” she conceded with an exasperated sigh. “You can ask two things. Specific things before you decide to ask me to tell you everything in the history of me.”

Daltom chuckled at her closing down of the loophole. "I would not do that to you. Despite making you terribly uncomfortable right now, I think our spirits and personalities are very much alike." He sat in thought for a moment and said, "Tell me about your relationship with your mother."

A mhàthair… there was genuine warmth in the smile as she thought of her mother but it was tapered by a sadness for all her mother had to face, a touch of anger towards the man who should have stayed. “We have maybe a different relationship than most mothers and daughters,” she conceded. “But she is my mother and I love her. She is one of the bravest and strongest people I have ever met.

Before you think of asking - it is a long story. But what is perhaps important is that I was raised for the most part by my grandparents and - to some extent - my brothers.”

"Now that is different and perhaps another time I will ask for that long story. However, we're only opening the nozzle a little way today, right? So, let me think.... What to do with this second question?" he pondered as he tapped his foot slowly, softly, and deliberately, hoping maybe Caitlyn would tell him something more for free.

Caitlyn arched an eyebrow, “technically you just asked another two… but I will play nice.”

"Playing nice has a definite place here," he told her with an approving nod. If he was outside of his office, he might have added a wink, as well. "Tell me about your last significant other."

“That is a very broad question,” she pointed out. “Define significant other? If it is long term romantic relationships then it’s a very short answer.”

"I really can't define that," Daltom asked. "Everyone has a defintion. However, in your case, I guess it would be the last person that you allowed yourself to show most of yourself."

“Outside of family… I suppose Kai? We were on a few undercover operations together, we had to trust we had each other’s backs,” she told him. There was, of course one other person but she would never speak of their history - or relationship - here. Hell would freeze over.

“Disappearing for months and in one case over a year at a time… made the potential for long term relationships a little difficult.”

"What happened to Kai?" Daltom inquired of Caitlyn.

“He was killed on an assignment just over two years ago,” she informed him, a hint of sadness in her voice. “And that was certainly more than two questions…. So, can I go now and you can put the PaDD away?”

"I'm sorry that he was killed. Was it on the same assignment as you?" he wondered. "As to leaving here? Do you not enjoy my company? And here I thought we bonded over a kitten." He smiled pleasantly at Caitlyn, purposely ignoring her statement about the PADD."

Caitlyn sighed in exasperation, sure there could be no correct response. “What I don’t enjoy is endless questions,” she said after a moment. “And knowing you aren’t done.”

"How do you have a conversation with friends if there are no questions?" Daltom asked with a small chuckle. "You would not just talk over each other, would you?"

“A conversation with the ship’s counselor is not the same thing, and when friends have conversations - the topics rarely stray into the finer details of your upbringing. In my experience anyway,” she informed him. “Besides, I’m more of a listener than a talker.”

“As am I. Another thing we have in common,” Daltom observed. “It is a lot easier to listen when you don’t want to talk or reveal anything, isn’t it?”

“Even easier if you are the one asking the questions,” she pointed out.

“Many times, but not in your case. You hold on to your pain and fears like a person that is trying to cling and climb up a fraying rope on a cliff.” He sighed heavily. "But if it will make you feel better, I’ll let you pry a little into me.”

In your opinion… she thought, but kept that quiet. “That would be terribly hypocritical of me,” she observed. “I assume you have no intention of causing harm to anyone aboard this ship?”

"No, I don't," he answered simply.

“Then that’s a good enough start for me,” she told him, with obvious sincerity.

The fact that she believed him so quickly was heartwarming. Clearly he had made some headway with her. "Well, shall we release you from my custody for today, then?" he asked Caitlyn with a pleasant and amused smile.

“How generous of you,” she observed, climbing to her feet before he could come up with some other pressing question. “Same time next year?”

"Next week at latest," Daltom replied back with another amused smile and chuckle. "You definitely get an 'A' for effort, though." He paused and then looked into her green eyes and seriously said, "Thank you for trusting me a little."

She held up her hand with her thumb and index finger almost touching. “Just a little.”

"It is a beginning," Daltom answered with a warm smile.

“Don’t look too pleased with yourself,” she cautioned with a grin. “I always play nice first time around. Hope you like a challenge, Lieutenant.”

"I'm used to vipers, Caitlyn. You are much more pleasurable and fun, regardless of whatever challenge you pose," Daltom replied definitively.

Caitlyn frowned, not entirely sure how to take his words or reply. Perhaps it was her imagination reading too much into his words. Perhaps. “I’ll try to be less of both those things and definitely more of a challenge. Have a good day, Lieutenant.”

She wants to be less fun, less pleasurable, and more of a challenge? Oh, my! Seems I hit a nerve. Well, there will be a lot more hit before we're done. Daltom shrugged, waited several moments, and then exited after Caitlyn.

OFF


Lieutenant Daltom Vesper
Chief Counselor
USS Thunderbird

Lieutenant Caitlyn MacRae
Second Officer
USS Thunderbird

 

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