Thanks Tal

Posted on Mon Apr 7th, 2025 @ 9:48pm by Ensign Khrys Ral

Mission: Seven Souls
Location: Starfleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth
Timeline: Mission Day 1 at 0000

[Starfleet Academy-Echo Dormitory, Room 4B]
[One Week Into Orientation]

The door hissed open to the soft, artificial hush of dormitory air, and Khrys stepped inside like he was trying not to disturb something delicate. The room lights responded slowly, blooming from dim starlight to a gentle gold wash that illuminated the tidy, symmetrical layout; two beds, two desks, one narrow window overlooking the landscaped quad.

Khrys moved automatically, setting down his PADDs and slipping out of his uniform jacket. His side of the room was already beginning to take on a distinct vibe: leafy potted flora spilled from the desk and shelf space, each labeled with a tiny botanical placard in both Standard and Betazoid script. A woven wall hanging from home—cool silvers and dreamy blue spirals—draped over his bed like an incantation meant to hold loneliness at bay.

Across the room, Cadet Taliren Vos was already there, mid-workout and shirtless, a sheen of sweat highlighting the planes of his Haliian frame. He lay on the floor in the middle of a slow, controlled set of crunches, exhaling with each motion, his obsidian hair pulled back in a low tie.

“You’re late,” Taliren said, voice steady, not even slightly winded. He didn’t look up.

Khrys paused mid-motion, blinking. “Huh?”

“You always get back by 2200. It’s 2247.” The words struck gently, more like an observation than a scolding.

Khrys rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I lost track of time. Took a walk.”

Taliren’s brow arched faintly as he sat up, grabbing a towel off the corner of his bed and dabbing his forehead. “Let me guess. You ran into Vaeo.”

Khrys tried, unsuccessfully, to keep the smile from blooming on his face.

Taliren snorted. “Called it.”

“He’s just… really easy to talk to,” Khrys said, a little defensive, a little dreamy. “He always seems to know exactly what to say.”

“That’s the problem.” The Haliian said, quietly but still audible. He felt like he had to look out for his roommate.

Khrys blinked. “What do you mean?”

Tal stood, stretching his arms behind his back until his shoulders cracked. “Look, I’m not saying he’s evil. He’s smooth. Older. Confident. Attractive, I guess, if you like the whole ‘perfect posture and intense stare’ thing. But I’ve seen that look in his eyes. It’s the same look people get when they’re watching themselves be impressive.”

Khrys frowned. “You think he’s… what? Playing a role?”

“I think,” Taliren said, grabbing a water bottle from his desk, “he knows exactly how he looks when he’s listening. And I think you’re too close to notice the gap between what he says and what he means.”

Khrys sat on the edge of his bed, fiddling with the edges of a pillowcase. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” Taliren’s voice wasn’t sharp, but it wasn’t soft either. “Every night since orientation started, you’ve come back with that spaced-out look like your heart's just floated five centimeters above your chest. And I’ve watched him talk to three other first-years exactly the same way he talks to you. Same look. Same voice. Same perfectly timed smile.”

Khrys didn’t respond right away. The words hit somewhere he didn’t want to look too closely.

Taliren exhaled slowly. He crossed the room and sat on his own bed, not directly facing Khrys, but close enough.

“Listen,” he said, more gently now. “You don’t have to take my word for it. I just don’t want to see you walk into something with your heart wide open and your eyes half-shut.”

Khrys’s voice dropped. “Why do you care?”

Taliren glanced sideways at him, and something flickered across his face—gone almost before it registered. A softness, maybe. Something unspoken.

“Because you remind me of my younger brother,” Taliren said after a pause, though it didn’t sound entirely true. “Wide-eyed. All instinct and empathy. You feel everything like it’s a first burn, and you think everyone’s got the same kind of skin.”

Khrys looked down at his hands.

Taliren leaned back on his elbows. “And because you're my roommate. Quiet. Kind. You smells like plants. The bar’s low, but you’re clearing it.”

That coaxed a laugh out of Khrys, reluctant but real.

“I just don’t want you to be someone’s practice dummy,” Tali said, and this time there was no teasing edge. “He’s older. He’s definitely done this before. You haven’t.”

Khrys sat quietly, absorbing it. “He does listen to me,” he said finally, more to himself than to Taliren. “He remembered that my favorite plant is selorrin. He asked about my hometown. He… held my hand.”

Taliren didn’t reply. He didn’t have to. The silence said everything. Of course he did.

“Maybe I’m just being stupid,” Khrys said softly.

“No,” Taliren said firmly. “You’re being hopeful. That’s not a flaw.”

Khrys looked up, their eyes meeting across the short space between beds. There was a warmth in Taliren’s gaze not romantic, not quite paternal, but solid. Real. Like stone warmed by sun.

“I’m not saying cut him off,” Taliren added. “Just… don’t give him all the good parts of you unless you’re sure he’s giving something real back.”

Khrys nodded slowly, almost imperceptibly.

Taliren lay back on his bed and reached up to dim the lights. The ceiling’s soft glow gave way to shadows.

“Oh,” he added into the quiet, “and I snore. Forgot to warn you.”

Khrys laughed again, the knot in his chest loosening just a little. He curled up on his side, pulling a light blanket over himself. In the dark, he whispered, “Thanks, Tal.”

Taliren’s voice was already starting to fade with sleep. “Don’t thank me yet, plant-boy. You haven't heard the orchestra of chainsaws yet.”

Khrys lay awake for a while longer, thinking.And when he finally drifted off, he dreamed not of Vaeo’s perfect smile—but of a quiet warmth, rooted and real, like sun-drenched earth.