[[USS GALILEO M3 MD6]]: Everybody Dies

Posted on 04 May 2013 @ 4:38am by Warrant Officer Evan Kell

566 words; about a 3 minute read

ON:

There's this guy. His name was Virgil, old Earth poet. Long dead. He said: each of us bears his own Hell.

Then there's this other guy. His name was Jeremy Stone. If you'd cracked open his skull and peered in, there would've been a lot of flame. Brimstone, sulfur. Hell-like things. Gangling monsters, bones, flesh.

Jeremy never thought about things in wholes. He thought about them in parts. Hell wasn't a place he lived. It was snapshots. His monsters had bristling spines, a talon, a drop of blood. Bow-legs, a disembodied eye or two.

See, this was Jeremy's biggest problem. He never saw the monsters in one frame. Just pieces, here and there. I think that's what made them scariest. He never knew just how big they were, or when they'd pop out.

He built walls to protect himself against them. The problem with walls is, they keep everything out. Even the good.

I watch people. It's my job, and I'm pretty good at it. Most people didn't know what to make of Jeremy. Troubled was the best word for him. See, if you build a wall to keep the hell out, you're left with your own hell. And those walls, they trap you there with it.

Five years ago, Jeremy's own hell was better than the one he lived in. Then he got out, moved on. Only, he carried it with him. He didn't know how to live without it. When Hell became shadows, he made it real. Survival was all he knew. He built and built and built until the spires blocked out the sun.

And yesterday, he jumped in front of a monster to protect his shipmates. He'd done it a thousand times before, behind his walls. He figured, what's one more monster? But this one wasn't a shadow in the dark. It was a Whole thing, and it swallowed him. Ripped him to pieces. It left parts of his uniform. I think they're giving that to his family.

Mostly, Jeremy's impact on board was poor. I watch them now. They still don't know what to make of him. Only he's gone, and they're left with guilt. Maybe if he'd been better. Maybe if they'd been better. Maybe if someone had pierced the veil. Thing is, learning how to be human is a tricky business. There was a lot of Q&A.

So here's the gist. Jeremy liked opera. Had a thing for narrowing definitions, putting fine points on concepts. Adored Starfleet, thought Vulcans were silly. Fuzzy, barely remembered anyone's name. He remembered mine, though. He liked scrambled eggs, but often forgot. He made Nesh drink xix instead of coffee, and devoured PADDs on how to look after a dog.

I know people could barely tolerate him. But I'm just an observer. I'm not bothered easily. Maybe that means I'll be the one to carry Jeremy with me, just like I carry Rachel and Tiffany and Niurek.

John 14:2 says: In my father's house, there are many mansions. If not, I would have told you: because I go to prepare a place for you. I've got a habit of making homes for strangers. And long after they're gone, I guess I'll still be here. Watching, passing through, collecting my own pieces.

OFF:

Warrant Officer Evan Kell
Intelligence Officer, SFI
USS Galileo

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