He pursed his lips. “It all depends on the reason behind the drought. We cannot fight what nature has wrought on their planet, but we could provide them with water to assist them, perhaps even make a plea to Starfleet on their behalf. However we will not get very far if our only means of communication are through indirect telepathy.”
He focused on the mental connection they shared and sent out another message to them. 'We wish to assist, but it is difficult to communicate this way. Is it possible that we can meet with you so that our captain could hear your pleas directly?”
'This is how we communicate. The Captain of the Star People may join the headspace.'
"They talk like this?" she asked the Commander in confusion. It only took her a few seconds to realize what they meant after that. "They’re telepaths." she breathed out. "Full telepaths. When was the last time…"
'You wish to see us face to face.' the voice rang through her head again, using a familiar terran colloquialism. 'We will grant this. Please help.'
"Don’t move. You’ll make me lose focus."
Charlie nodded before remaining perfectly still. “What exactly are you doing?”
Tony laughed a little, nodding his head before folding his arms over his chest. “Yeah, yeah. Compare it to engineering and Id probably understand what you were talking about. I’m quite a whizz kid when it comes to that.”
She smiled brightly at that. “I’m a technopath. It’s kind of my thing.” she grinned.
born of starlight
Steve felt like he’d just walked into an argument that he had no business being in. Especially as he had no idea just what they were arguing over. Maybe he should just slip away and allow them to argue between themselves. It was better than standing there looking out of place. “Maybe I should just let you two figure it out on your own. Clearly you don’t need my help in figuring out just which of you is to blame.”
Smith turned to Steve and sighed. “Sorry, sir. Charlie know’s better then to sneak out. Especially when she has a hit out on her.” he responded. “And this whole… mess-” he gestured absently to the unconscious men on the floor. “Is because she decided to sneak out and cause a ruckus,”
"I wanted ice cream." she deadpanned. "So no, I’m not guilty of anything but wanting ice cream. Happy?"
"That’s honestly not making it any easier, I’m going to fail this class and probably get kicked out of school, fabulous."
"Yeah, most people get lost when I compare it to engineering but, well, that’s what my degree is in and that’s all I know how to… make it make sense." she frowned, often forgetting that these kids were kids.
"People first. Anything. Height, build, type of clothes, how they walked, any discernible marks or tattoos. Left handed or right handed?" It occurred to Will that he expected at least one assailant was a southpaw. Sinking into his shoes required almost no effort, not while he was looking at her. He could be miserable about this later. There was enough to be miserable about without including personal issues. He shook his head in a slight jerk, clearing it. "Would you prefer to write the events down?"
"Not sure i could write." she was left handed so at least she had that going for her right now but she wasn’t sure she could focus enough on the words. "First guy was bald I think. He was probably six foot four with a tattoo on his hand. Who even does that?" she wondered idly. "Well built but with an average face. They all had average faces. His eyes were blue. His hair was probably dark brown but, like I said, shaved." she shifted on the bed, head dropping down to look at her feet.
"The other guy was thin and wirey. He had glasses and brown eyes. Brown hair that was kind of curly." she brought her hand up to curl her fingers into her hair while the other remained limp on the bed in it’s brace. "He was smaller but worse. Much worse." she closed her eyes and flopped her head back. "The last guy looked like he walked out of a business magazine. White, short hair that was styled like he didn’t have a tire iron in his hand, and a slight pooch to his stomach. He was probably about one eighty five though." she honestly couldn’t describe anything about their faces and that was troublesome to her. "Brown eyes, blondish hair." she shut her mouth, making it clear she was done talking.
He took her hand in return, wondering how long he could count on euphoria, how long he could put off the responsibility of warning her about all the ways he was essentially screwed up. Not even in a self-deprecating way; and god knew he didn’t want her to leave. Just be forewarned, forearmed.
Not yet. His returning smile was honest.
She let out a soft sigh and laced her fingers in his. He didn’t know how messed up she was and she wasn’t sure she was okay with the secrets. The ones she harbored and the ones she knew he did as well. She wasn’t naive enough to believe that this would go perfectly but she let hope carry her. At least for a little while. “Am I driving or do you want to? OR should be go separately?”