The Nicrean

secretvixen83:

Dust swirled in
the air as the smell of fire wafted from what seemed like everywhere. In the
middle of it all stood Anaris. Her five-foot four-inch frame seeming tall
against the decimation around her. The place she stood used to be a capitol
city and was normally teeming with busy people. That was no longer the case.
The buildings lay in ruin, the once marvelous cobblestone streets were
destroyed, and even the sun seemed dimmer. As she looked around her, Ana felt
lost and hopeless. This was her home, and now there was nothing left. She was
shocked out of her reverie by a massive explosion a few blocks away. Over her
right shoulder, she saw a new onyx colored plume of smoke rising through the
sparse cropping of trees that were left. Her heart sank as she smelled the
fresh fire that had erupted. The Arconis had probably just destroyed the last
hope of saving Nicrea.

           There
were no longer any civilians left on the surface of Nicrea. The only ones left
were Anaris, and the military. They had issued the evacuation notices five
sunrises ago and had been able to hold the Arconis off until now, when the
reinforcements came. Anaris’ deep blue eyes scanned the skyline looking for any
sign that the Arconis were heading for her. She then shifted her gaze to the
spaces where buildings, homes, and trees once stood. Nothing in their places
was a good thing and a bad thing. Either way, Ana knew she wasn’t getting out
of this alive. The question she asked herself was, My way, or theirs? She knew if the Arconis caught her, they would
torture her and kill her.

           With
a shudder, and fear and resignation in her soul, she turned to look at the
violet waters of the Nicrean Sea. The beach between her and the water held so
many memories. The summers spent digging for shells with her mother, kite
flying in the spring with her father, and watching the surfing competition with
her cousins. All the memories were gone. The sand was empty, and the upper
layers blowing about in the wind. She had long ago run out of ammunition, so
she knew she had to take her chances on the Nicrean Sea being her final resting
place.

           Barely
paying attention to anything but her thoughts, Ana almost missed her right ear
twitching. Her ears were short but pointed on the upper edge and could hear
things far away from her. If her ear twitched, something was much closer than
she wanted it to be. As she looked behind her, Ana knew what was coming. Just
as she saw light reflect off the first Arconis’ armor, she began unbuckling her
boots hurriedly. She decided to keep her armor, the weight would drag her to
the ocean floor quicker. The Arconis wouldn’t follow her into the water (she
hoped), and as soon as her last boot was free, she tore across the sand like a
marathon sprinter to the water. The water was almost frigid to her and she
breathed in sharply. She never looked back, she kept her eyes forward, and
could feel the water soaking through her clothes, making them heavier, and
beginning to drag her down. Ana couldn’t hear the Arconis behind her anymore,
and her ears were filled with the sound of the tide breaking around her. Her
armor began pulling her under when the water was halfway up her breastplate,
and she didn’t fight it. She took one last breath and gazed around her as she
closed her eyes for the final time. Or so she thought.

           Tom
hated doing inventory checks. He only accepted this because the Captain was
furious with him. He had tried to make things better but made them worse
instead. The Captain had every right to just eject him out into space and watch
him die. Instead, she assigned him these menial tasks that made his brain bleed
of boredom. At least he was still alive though. As he entered the cargo hold,
the lights were dim, and he could easily make out the shapes of the crates he
was looking for. As he sighed and set down his equipment belt, he caught a
whiff of something he hadn’t smelled in almost ten years. His brain quickly perked
up and tried to place the smell. Saltwater?!
How would saltwater be on the ship? They were 80 years from earth. He pushed
the smell to the back of his mind and filed it under wishful thinking.

           Anaris
opened her eyes. She was no longer in the ocean, but instead in what seemed to
be a cargo hold, not unlike the ones she had been in on the Nicrean ships. Her
ears told her that there was someone else in the room with her, so she tried to
hold in the overwhelming urge to orally expel the water she had intentionally
swallowed. She failed miserably and expelled the liquid contents of her
stomach. Gasping for air and wiping her mouth on her sleeve, she nervously glanced
around the large crate that concealed her and saw him. Tom heard the familiar
sound of vomiting coming from behind him and turned to see an almond shaped
blue eye watching him from between the crates. Keeping her ears trained on the
humanoid, she began to remove her armor as quietly as she could, leaving the
dagger her grandfather had given her on her hip. She ran her fingers through
her almond colored hair, and quickly put it into a battle braid. Then she sat
on her haunches and tried to figure out the humanoid.

           Tom,
in his laidback manner turned back to his gear, which included two drink tubes,
a hand-held inventory tracker, and his communicator, holding a small handful of
tiny screws. “It’s amazing that without this tiny screw in the right place all
hell will break loose.” He said it more to amuse himself about his current
plight than for any other reason. He was putting the screws back in the box
when he heard a sharp thud that sounded heavy, and metallic. Automatically
drawing his weapon, he spun around to the same place he had heard the vomiting
from before.

           “I
know you’re here! I won’t harm you, as long as you don’t harm me!” There was no
response. “Look! I will even put my weapon away! Just come out! If you’re hurt,
I can help you!” Tom was putting his weapon back in its holster when he saw
something move in between the shadows cast by the crates from the corner of his
eye. When he looked at her, his jaw dropped. She was a humanoid figure, and a
biped. Remembering himself, he asked her to stop when she came within a foot of
him, and they could clearly see each other. Anaris and Tom stood looking at
each other for a bit before Anaris spoke. “Where am I, and who or what are
you?” She knew it sounded harsh and crass but she didn’t care. She had wanted
to die. Not end up wherever this was. Tom leaned up against a large cargo case
and tried to look relaxed to show he wasn’t a threat to her. Anaris didn’t
change her posture, and Tom saw the dagger on her hip.

           “Well,”
he started. “Currently you are on a ship in space headed back to Earth. I’m
Tom, and I’m supposed to be doing inventory as a punishment. I am also a
human.” Tom let his answer hang in the air for a moment, and then hoisted
himself up on top of the crate and sat. “What about you? Who, or what are you,
and how the hell did you get on board?!” Tom let her take her time in
answering, and as he took the first swallow of his drink tube, she responded,
“I think I died.” Tom immediately choked on his drink, and after a few seconds
of sputtering, he was able to choke out, “Excuse me?” Anaris replayed the
events of her last moments on her home planet to Tom, who stayed quiet,
listening intently. Just as Anaris finished, A huge wave of space interference
hit the ship, and rocked it massively. Tom fell off the crate, and Anaris fell
to her knees. When all was quiet again, Tom looked around, and moved to help
Anaris up. He extended his hand, and she looked at it, and at him
questioningly. “I told you, I won’t hurt you.” He said coaxingly.

           She
took his hand and stood up. Tom saw that in the fall, her dagger had sliced her
leg and fallen out of its scabbard, and immediately pushed the wrist unit he
wore. “Bridge” came the reply. Anaris realized it was a woman’s voice and
didn’t know how to feel. “Captain, what was that space wave? It was felt all
the way down here!” Tom said, watching Anaris’ blood drip to the floor. “We
aren’t quite sure, but it seems like a planet nearby exploded.” Came the
Captain’s cool reply. Anaris quickly turned and ran away from Tom. Not because
she was afraid, but because she no longer had a home, and she didn’t want him to
see her cry. Anaris heard Tom ask the Captain and First Officer to come down
immediately. Tom found Anaris again and tried to coax her out again. She
wouldn’t budge. “Come on, I promise no one will hurt you here.” Tom said
calmly, extending his hand again patiently. “How do I know?” she cried, “That
you aren’t like them?!”  Ana decided to
face whatever was coming and stood up abruptly. Before anyone could say
anything to her, Ana sharply said, “It was a planet that exploded. It was my
Nicrea.”

           The
Captain and First Officer looked her over as they entered the hold, “Why did it
explode?” She asked this of Ana like she was asking about the weather, and Ana
couldn’t take it. “We were attacked!! The Arconis destroyed EVERYTHING!!” It
was then the Captain’s heart softened. It was palpable in the room, and it even
disarmed Ana’s apparent anger. This time when the Captain spoke, it was soft,
and heartfelt. “How did you end up here?” Ana glanced at Tom, and Tom nodded.
“I tried to drown myself in the Nicrean Sea and ended up here.” Ana said as she
registered for the first time that there was pain in her right thigh. Ana’s
vision began to waver, her legs refused to hold her up. As her vision darkened,
and she began to fall, Tom caught her. Without missing a beat, Captain Janeway
ordered him to take her to see the doctor.

           “An
exploding planet, a stowaway, and all of this started because Tom had to do
inventory.” Chakotay stated as he smiled and chuckled. “Yes, it seems that she
is as lost as we are, whoever she is.” Kathryn responded as she walked beside
her first officer out of the cargo hold. “You know, lately there have been a
lot of new beginnings on board this ship. I believe we may have another to add
to our expanding list.” Janeway nodded, smiled, and said, “I am all for new
beginnings.” Making their way to the bridge, Chakotay and Janeway discussed
multiple things. Ionic polarization shifts, anti-matter waves, and ship repairs
to be made once they could find a small corner of space to be “safe” in. To
Chakotay’s dismay, nothing too personal. Nothing about their kiss, nothing
about what she had said in the Ready Room. Was she trying to forget? He hoped
not. As they entered the bridge, he was brought out of his reverie by what they
were seeing on screen. A large cloud of what seemed to be gas, detritus, and
some sort of moisture was in front of them.

           After
a second’s long pause, Kathryn asked, “Nicrea?” Chakotay realized she was
talking to him. “Probably, which adds validity to our stowaway’s story.” They
nodded in agreement and stood staring for a few moments. Something about the
cloud was oddly beautiful. If you hadn’t known it was a planet, and countless
souls had just died, it could be mistaken for art. Chakotay knew he had to pull
his head out of a romantic mind set so Kathryn wouldn’t give him that look that
she gives when Tom frustrates her. He hated that look and tried his best not to
earn it. There were times that he couldn’t avoid it though, and he smiled to
himself as he thought about it.

Wow. I really love the imagery at the beginning. Can’t wait to see where this goes!

More

Kathryn Janeway had no idea when this had happened. How could she have let this go so far? Something had to be done, yes, something had to be done.

Somewhere over the years, she had lost her judgment. She had given in.

But what was she to do?

Suddenly, she found herself thinking back to when it had all began. When her biggest problem had first presented itself.

It had been years ago, in the middle of a duty shift, right there on the bridge.

It had been a completely uneventful and unbelievably boring shift until Paris had made one of his typical childish jokes that had left the entire bridge crew consumed in fits of laughter.

She, unaware of the impacts, had reached out and placed her hand on Chakotay’s shoulder.

He had turned his face to look at her, surprised at first as she was, but then smiled gently. Showing a hint of those dimples. And in that moment, she had lost control for only a split-second, but that was everything.

She had felt something.

Something long repressed and long denied.

Damn those dimples.

Since then, she had found herself reaching out to him more and more.

Wanting, desperately, to recreate the feeling of that first time.

Wanting, desperately, to feel again.

It had started simply. A comforting hand here, and a gentle brush there.

But it had quickly become more.

Weekly dinners, started on the pretext of ship functionality, had all been her idea. Her way of maximizing their time spent together.

Her hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, had the power to bring the most complete feeling of calm.

Hand holding, even on duty, as a means of her own comfort. As a reminder. She wasn’t alone.

Staying on the bridge, way beyond the end of her shift. Not because she wasn’t exhausted, as she always pretended, but because he still had two hours left.

Sitting, maybe just a little too close, because he was her pillar of strength. And because she belonged there.

She really ought to get this under control. After all, a captain could not afford even the smallest distraction.

But maybe it was time she just admitted it.

She needed Chakotay to lean on.

Figuratively.

and literally

Cold

Cold.
So. Very. Cold.
Her mind was unable to focus on anything else. She tried desperately to remember how she had gotten here.
How she had gotten so cold.
Flashes of memory.
A shuttle.
Laughter.
Surprise.
Panic.

And pain, so much pain.
Too much pain.
Cold.
There was snow, wet, cold snow.
And at some point, a fire.
Whose heat had long since died away.
Cold, unbearable cold.
White, everything was white.
And red.
Too much red.
Her companion, whose hand had long since fallen limp and lifeless, lay silent.
Too silent.
Cold.
Alone.
Too alone.
And cold.
Too cold.

Alone

“You didn’t poison the coffee did you?”

“Not any more than I usually do.”

I smile at him and he chuckles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He is still feeling uneasy, and this bothers me, but then again, I am too. I don’t want this to become a problem for us. I don’t want this rift that seems to have been slowly growing where our friendship once blossomed. I make up my mind then. He has to know. He has to know that I can’t do this without him. 

“Chakotay,” I start, setting down my mug, we need to talk.

He sits down his mug as well and looks up.

“I hate what we’ve become.” I admit, standing up and striding over to the couch, “We can’t afford to stop trusting each other, we can’t afford to be afraid to talk to one another.”

“I agree,” he says coming to sit beside me, “I don’t want to feel like that again, not knowing if you’re on my side or not.”

“I know what you mean. I don’t think I could do this without your support.”

He turns to look at me, and we make eye contact. I can see the truth in his eyes. I’ve missed being able to read him so well.

“You could if you had to.”

There is silence then, each of us thinking about this disturbing prospect. I inch closer to him on the cushion and lay my head on his shoulder, needing to feel close to him again. Chakotay stiffens at first, then relaxes, and eventually wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer.

“I’m glad I don’t have to.”

– K