The Tao That Cannot Be Told

Posted on Mon Feb 1st, 2021 @ 4:15am by Lieutenant Commander Meilin Jiang

Mission: S0E0: What Came Before
Location: Sickbay | Canopus Station
Timeline: After "Mas Que Nada"

For some reason that Mara found inexhaustibly humorous, Meilin had been flirted with by a man named Christoph. But Meilin was drunk. Any decision she made in this state would not be a virtuous one. In fact, drunkenness itself was a vice. It denied her the ability to view the eternal Tao. There was only one solution.

"I require medical assistance," Meilin said as she stumbled into Sickbay. "I'm suffering alcohol poisoning."

Murray swiftly crossed the open space between his current console and the clearly physically unstable young woman. It wasn't often that a patient wandered in and declared their diagnosis this overtly, but he'd spent enough time on the upper levels of Canopus station to know the Lt Cmdr a little more than he'd seen in the Enclave. She didn't strike him as the type to willingly place herself in a position that denied her self-control, so the simple problem was already a tiny bit more complicated.

"On purpose?" He asked, as he placed his arm under hers and guided her in the direction of a curtained booth. One eyebrow quirked as he caught the scent of said alcohol. "What happened, exactly?"

Buzz long having worn off, Meilin clutched the side of her head as if in pain. "I went where I did not belong," she explained, "in support a friend's hobby. The Drunken Ferengi. Though I clearly ordered hot tea, I'm told my server delivered multiple hot toddies which contain whiskey." Raising her hands in a meager flourish, she said, "Here I am."

"I see," said Murray, in the calm, steady manner of all souls with the task of ensuring others' well-being. He gestured for Meilin to take a seat, standing close enough to be of physical support if she required such. "Learned a valuable lesson with regards trusting bartenders then, have we?" He asked, as he sought a particular vial from a box of such, inserted it and then pressed a hyprospray to the woman's neck. "This will help," Murray told her reassuringly, then he grinned. "Multiple hot toddies does suggest at least some measure of compliance on your part, though..."

Meilin slipped out a glare at Murray's quip before her self-discipline reined in her offense to a flat, neutral expression. "All I tasted was the honey," she said in defense of her oversight. "Only a hint of... something else. I've never consumed alcohol before, so I assumed it was just an exotic blend of tea."

A wonky smile held enough visible warmth to show he cared about her well-being and Murray noted the rapidity of Meilin's expression change. "You've never imbibed alcohol until now?" He asked, genuinely curious as he gently rested fingertips at the young woman's chin and stared into her eyes. "Good news is that you're just drunk, not poisoned. The analagesic should kick in right away," he promised, stepping away then to fetch a tall glass of sugar water. "Drink this slowly and tell me what happened." It was a suggestion rather than an order, but he hoped his trusted position as ACMO might glean him a little more information.

"As I said, the server gave me the wrong drink," Meilin said with a hint of exasperation. She sipped from the concoction several times, hoping to swallow her nascent frustration along with it. "Many times," she added sheepishly. "Experience is the greatest teacher, however. I will know the taste of alcohol should such a mistake happen again in the future."

"Understood," Murray noted, though he wasn't sure he did. It was those two words making her story jangle - many times - and his curiosity nagged. "Live and learn," he agreed simply. "Yes." His gaze studied hers as she looked up from one of those gentle sips. "I guess you've never struck me as someone who would allow themselves to lose control." He stated, no accusation in his tone, only that intrigued concern. "Starting to feel a bit better?"

"Control is an illusion," Meilin countered as she finished the medical cocktail. "Where there is only actualization. Sometimes that means obeying impulses rather than resisting them. In time, you will not have to resist what does not exist. That is what many religions and philosophies don't understand." After her little homily, she allowed herself a faint smile. "But, yes, I do. Feel better, that is." She handed the cup back to Murray. Gratitude filled her dark almond eyes. "Thank you."

"Good. And you're very welcome," he said. Then Murray nodded. Control was indeed an illusion, as were many other things, and he couldn't argue that obeying impulses was a fun way to live. It simply surprised him to see Meilin in that position, but perhaps it had been an honest mistake. Happened to the best of them, including himself. "Very deep," he noted, and grinned a lopsided grin. "Religions and philosophies tell us a great deal about intelligent life and how it views the universe," Murray added. "Sometimes it adapts as said life evolves, sometimes it prevents said evolution. As observers, both paths are a source of interest." His gaze rested upon those dark eyes with an intrigued expression colouring his features, his tone light. "But I don't need to teach you about observation, do I?"

"Scientific inquiry is based upon it," Meilin said by way of reply. "But I have a suspicion that you are trying to tell me something."

"I'm intrigued," said Murray, with a quiet seriousness to a jovial tone. "It feels as if you're studying the Rish Enclave."

Meilin lolled her head in a weary nod. "Anthropology was my favorite study at the Academy," she said, "so I had studied the Rish well before they set foot on the station. That was how I negotiated the creation of Cargo Reef in the first place."

"Perhaps when you're better rested, you could tell me the story over a... green tea?" Murray suggested softly. "But right now, Commander, I recommend you rest."

"Tell you the story?" Meilin looked incredulous. "Were you not there at the time? Or..." Her brow twitched ever so slightly as she followed her thoughts through to conclusion. "... is there an ongoing migration of Rish to the station?" The level of her suspicion nearly made it a rhetorical question.

"Of your pre-Canopus studying?" said Murray with a wry smile. He admired the swiftness with which her mind had leapt from needing medical assistance to forming intriguing jumps of logic though. And she wasn't entirely wrong, but he wasn't about to confirm or too actively deny that new assumption.

Meilin smirked. "It was something I'd read. So when did you arrive on the station, Dr. Jacobs?"

"I arrived with Bossa and the Witch of Endor," Murray answered, and there was nothing in his expression, mannerisms or inflection to suggest this was untrue.

Maybe it was the whiskey, maybe it was the chemical cocktail that was washing away Meilin's waning buzz and preventing her hangover, but she gave Murray one of her rare smiles. "Hǎo de," she murmured in a loud, husky whisper. "My eyes feel heavy." Grasping Murray by the arm, she pressed herself against him like a body pillow. "Jo tao." It was less than a murmur, barely audible through her lips which were parted only slightly more than her sleeping eyes.

And just like that they went from an informal interview to a moral dilemma, Murray thought, even as her vocal chords played a tune he always found difficult to resist. That beautiful mix of quiet and exactly the right amount of roughness to her words as she grabbed a hold of him and silently demanded physical attention. Nothing untoward, nothing he intended to abuse in any way that would violate any trust, but still - that very human call for company nonetheless. There were many things in question with Murray's moral code, but taking advantage of unconscious women was... well at least rarely a thing. And taking carnal advantage - that was definitely on the firm 'no' list.

So, gently and with great care, Murray moved with Meilin until she lay comfortably down on the infirmary bed. He rested her head on the pillow. He covered her lightly with a blanket, one grabbed from the repository beneath said bed, and then he took up a guard position sat beside her, all the time with her hand still gripping his, and her body in contact with his own.

"Tiánmì de mèng," Murray whispered and settled himself to remain here a while.