Posted by Civilian Jezem (Upstanding Citizen) in My Hot Blood’s Been Burnin’ (Tag Séan)(Part 2)
Time never stops and Jezem arrived the following week to his next appointment. Having known Jezem for as long as he had now, Séan could tell the Orion was out of sorts. The signs were subtle but there, discernable by his outward appearace and body language. To the casual eye the Orion appeared normal, dressed in his fine clothes and expensive jewlery but they lacked complete cohesion and theme. His hair left down, lacked style or adornments. Jezem himself seemed stiff and nearly what could be almost described as awkard but indefinate.

He took his usual seat and began to speak, “I’ve heard of humans describe a desire to pick at their scabbed over wounds. I only remember it because of how strange and alien it sounded. Why would anyone do that? Pick and prod at a wound still healing. Seemingly enjoying the pain and discomfort as they come back to it again and again until they worry the old skin and dried blood away to reveal the shiny new skin beneath.

“And I think. . . I’m begining to understand it now,” Jezem paused to lean forward, arms resting against the tops of his legs, “That wound I can’t help but come back to time and time again but won’t let heal. My oldest scar. . . The person that inflicted it is dead, has been dead for a very long time. Sometimes I wish she were still alive, just so I could kill her again. This time by my own two hands and not indirectly.” She haunted his dreams, calling the name of a dead girl, smelling like flowers in the spring. “But you need context first.

“When I was born my parents surrendered me to the government of the local merchant prince. I was placed in. . . I suppose you would call it a state run orphanage. There I was raised to be sold on the slave markets when I came of market age. I don’t know how it measures up to a Federation orphanage but I can tell you it was sufficient and all my needs were met. We were raised with care and educated as appropriate for our future roles. When I turned ten years of age I was sold to a wealthy farmer who grew addictive plants and fungai.” Speaking this part was simple. Jezem did not resent the actions of his parents, nor his life as a child slave.

Jezem

Séan could sense the unease and tension in Jezem’s demeanor as he settled into his seat. The counselor’s gaze was steady and attentive, offering a safe space for Jezem to share whatever was on his mind. As Jezem began to speak, Séan listened intently, his expression empathetic as he absorbed the story.

The tale of Jezem’s early life in the state-run orphanage and subsequent sale into servitude was both a harsh reminder of the inequality and cruelty that existed in various corners of the galaxy and a testament to Jezem’s resilience in the face of such adversity. Séan’s own expression didn’t change, his face remained neutral, but his eyes held a depth of understanding, acknowledging the weight of Jezem’s experiences.

“Growing up in such circumstances must have been incredibly challenging,” Séan commented softly, his voice devoid of judgment. “The strength you developed to endure and eventually rise above your circumstances is truly remarkable. But it’s evident that there’s a particular aspect of this past that continues to haunt you.” He paused for a moment, allowing the words to sink in before continuing. “Tell me more about the person who inflicted that scar on you, and the context surrounding it.”

Counselor Iven