A Lesson of Life

Posted on 01 May 2019 @ 1:27am by Ensign Callin Mastrel

638 words; about a 3 minute read

2378...Arar...

~...and so, though she is departed from us, she is never gone. Look to one another's happy memories, and not the pain her absence brings, for that is a true testament to one who was so giving...~

Callin tried to stifle a yawn behind his hand but the move must have alerted his sister sitting next to him, and a moment later he felt the sharp pinch from her dangerous fingers a moment before a private hiss cut through the mind-numbing telepathic sermon, ~Don't you dare embaress us, Callin. It's an honor to have been invited to the funeral of Velexandevian Yanu, Daughter of the Third House- ~

~Heir to some high and mighty something or other. I know, I know, I've heard about it from you and Mother non-stop on the way here,~ Callin sent back, and tried to cover their conversation by casting his eyes elsewhere. This time his subterfuge seemed to go unnoticed by others - he was mostly worried his mother would overhear them - and gave him a good look at the temple itself.

It was quite possibly the most beautiful building he'd ever seen in his whole life. Gilded, carved, decorated, hung about with tapestry and fine cloth, lit by clever silver mirrors hidden behind intricately designed frescoes, every inch of it covered with the work of hundreds of years, maybe thousands. How could he focus on the funeral of a woman who he'd only met when he was a baby when brought to a place like this? Even the officiator, droning on and on, didn't really spoil it much.

~You shouldn't disrespect the dead,~ Uvelaslixti's disapproval had grown enough that Callin snapped his eyes forward to the dais where the body was laid in state. Upsetting his sister was nearly as bad as upsetting their mother. ~Besides, there's a lesson to be learned about life in death.~

If there was, Callin certainly didn't know what she meant, but he tried to suppress his curiosity and behave. He managed all of two minutes before he sent back, ~How much longer?~

Present Day

Callin had readied his duty logs so far since he arrived on the bridge what hadn't been more than a few minutes, but felt like ages ago. Maybe as far back as that funeral. Why it had come to mind now he wasn't exactly sure, but the situation was morbid enough.

Death with their patient, whose corpse he could see on the visual scanners pulled up on one section of his station, slowly tumbling away. It had been so swift and horrible, but on another, smaller display he had accessed Starfleet records about known Tholian ship designs. Nothing like jamming right before the pop quiz on a subject he was woefully unprepared for! These dart-shaped craft held their own kind of deadly threat too, and he had the computer check on likely points the Tholians would drop out of warp and into the planet's gravity well.

The planet. Another screen showed him a wire-mesh display currently with bright colors splashed across a section of one hemisphere, lingering traces of something more troubling than all the rest put together. Genesis.

Callin continued his work outwardly calm save for his pale face, sent his reports to the Captain's terminal to be read at her leisure, logged duplicates into the duty system, and then cleared that screen. Redirecting a sensor array to the planet again confirm the weather patterns on the shuttle's eventual trajectory and insertion point into the atmosphere didn't take much longer, and all was still clear.

He glanced again at the body, the Tholian ships, the planet, and wondered again about a lesson about life he was still unsure of.

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