If They Only Knew

[Cmdr JFarrington 0]

If They Only Knew

 

Two people knew. VAdm DeJariov and t’Prise. Neither one of them would break that confidence - of that she was sure. T’Prise was Vulcan, perhaps the most circumspect, honorable species in the galaxy. Jami trusted t’Prise implicitly.

 

As for Gren, he’d been watching her since the Andromeda mission, where, as a result of a misunderstanding, a curious arboreal species who called themselves the Qin had nearly killed her with a focused ultrasonic burst. Realizing their mistake, they kidnapped her for healing with subsonic songs and telepathic manipulation of her neural pathways. The Qin had also warned her that she may experience telepathy, but that it would be short-lived, and that it would vanish over time.

 

When the Manticore returned from the Andromeda Galaxy, Gren had been justifiably concerned. He watched her physical, emotional, and mental health “in the name of research,” he said. But she knew better.

 

She had no physical scars - at least no obvious ones - and the Qin’s telepathy had faded over time. In fact, it was almost nonexistent until Manticore decided to hopscotch through alternate realities. By the time they returned to their own reality and Maturin Station, the telepathy had come back full-blown, in an uncontrollable, overwhelming onslaught that had almost driven her insane intil she sought advice from t’Prise.

 

She heard everyone on the station, everyone on the ship, and everyone on every ship docked at Maturin. She knew the thoughts, feelings and hidden agendas of everyone who questioned them, and of every crewman who had undergone questioning. The revelations were at once intriguing, embarrassing, and shockingly unbearable.

 

Jami had, therefore, spent most of the last month in deep meditation, practicing techniques to control and block unwanted and unneeded thoughts and emotions. Along with that of t’Prise, she had also sought the guidance of her own counselor, Dr. DeJariov, and it was his counsel that was most powerful.

 

“There are times when the truth can be more destructive than you can ever imagine,” he had said. At her somewhat puzzled expression, he continued, “And of course that does not mean a lie should replace the truth. But the entire truth can sometimes be damaging. You know that, as a physician.”

 

Yes, she did. To tell a recovering patient that a close relative had just died could endanger the survival of the recovering patient. How often had she withheld that news until a patient was physically and emotionally able to bear it?

 

“You must learn when to speak, and when not to speak. And knowing when not to speak is the most important premise full telepaths must learn. It is more important than filtering, and more important than control.”

 

It had taken her several days of contemplation and reflection before she came to the full realization of the admiral’s words. Upon entering Manticore’s bridge for the first time in a month, she paused longer than usual to orient herself, concentrate, block, and settle into her position as Operations Officer. When Atragon entered, she felt his eyes on her, but blocked his thoughts. There were many things she did not want to know, and at this point, after his reclusive state, his thoughts were in that category.