A Brief Respite
Posted on Thu Oct 14th, 2021 @ 7:47pm by Karina Tell
801 words; about a 4 minute read
KAT stood with her back to the door as it slid behind her, shutting her off from the rest of the ship, and giving her a moment's peace in the midst of... well... everything.
She breathed in deeply, the first she had managed to inhale since their ill-fated contact with the pinkness in the middle of the Galaxy. Her fingers slid over the door lock and she moved slowly towards her viewport, watching unknown stars skim by.
Her left hand squeezed reflexively and she put it behind her back as it began to ache. Stretching her neck and back, KAT felt more than heard a release of tension for the briefest of moments. A suspension of thought... before everything else came flooding in.
She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the strange stars, the horrors that she was told about that happened on the surface and the frightening possibilities of what could be here in this unreachable corner of the Universe.
They had already met strange aliens which took them to a place where they lost an entire third of their Away Mission. Unheard of! Casualties and no way of... no way Home.
Moving away from the unknown, she sat upon her bed, and beheld the only home she would now know for the rest of her natural life. She had not imagined herself to be a full-time nomad, travelling through Space and never looking back.
There was always hope for R & R, a starbase, other planets that were close to home... Which was now a distant memory.
Was she happy to be here? Well, KAT had always wanted to join Starfleet, so a part of her had to be happy. How else could she explain her hopping aboard her Starship and heading for the skies?
Fear? Running away? Avoidance? Well, this was all of those things wrapped up into one clusterfuck of being so far away from everything she had ever known, had ever feared, had ever fled... some remote part of her felt relieved.
It might be short-lived, but certainly, she could find strength for herself in that place. A place where all of her old burdens could reside, and new ones that were happily scrambling to replace them.
So much to do, to coordinate, to manage. The Crew had to be suffering; the Captain? She could not say. He had his idiosyncrasies and his ways, but did that mean that he, too, was suffering?
Or relieved?
Whatever it was, she found herself with tears running down her face, unsure as to why, but accepting them. Release of one sort or another was necessary, and as she planned the next steps of her day and her life... she let them fall.
Her things that she had in her room... how long would they be hers? Would they need to share, ration, oversee, monitor... would they abandon Starfleet protocols? Or would the Crew maintain that order?
What consequences could be put upon them? The Brig? Put on Report? Expulsion? Banishment? Death?
KAT thought farther into the future than she might have otherwise done, considering the possibilities of what could happen; what everyone might eventually be called on to do.
Too much. She needed to cleanse these thoughts, make herself new... a shower and a cup of coffee would help.
How long would there be a general Mess? Shaking her head, she tried to break the spiralling negative thoughts that threatened to overtake her completely, and a babbling, hysterical and barely coherent Yeoman was not something she wanted anyone to see.
KAT still had her dignity. Or some semblance of it for as long as it would hold up.
She had been undressing while she was pondering... was it aloud or in her head? She didn't really know, she just knew that being cleansed was her next and most important step.
The comm unit in her quarters buzzed and a voice came over the system.
Sighing audibly, she looked at her discarded clothing and almost wanted to rush through the corridors naked... priorities and all that. But she still knew better, but there might come a time..
Nodding to herself, she punched the comm, <>
Biting the inside of her lip, KAT revisited that streaking-through-the-corridors moment and again thought better of it. No shower for her yet.
<>
Tugging her uniform back on, she smoothed it down with a practised flair. Then she slipped her shoes back on and fluffed her hair with her fingers.
<>
Putting her Yeoman face back on before the door slid open, a thought flitted through her mind. She was running and it surprised her...
'No rest for the wicked'...
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