In Another Time, In Another Place....,

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Re: In Another Time, In Another Place....,

Postby Mia Cummings » Fri Jan 01, 2016 1:16 pm

Amelia Moore

Amelia found herself on the bridge of what appeared to be a pristine starship. The lighting was not to 100 and several areas were in shadow, including where she was. Amelia took a few steps and stopped at the science station, her hands automatically moving to the console. The sound of voices made her turn to see both Owen and Colin. While something about this didn't seem quite right she pushed that feeling aside.

"Hello Colin, Owen," she said nodding to each in turn, "So it appears we are to continue once more into the breach, so to speak." She brushed back an unseen hair from her face and smiled.

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Re: In Another Time, In Another Place....,

Postby Kalquien » Fri Jan 01, 2016 10:56 pm

Lt. Oscar Blackthorne

Oscar didn't even let the sigh escape his lips as he opened his eyes and looked about at another new scene. At least this time it was the bridge of a starship and no one was trying to kill him. For the moment at least. He found himself seated at the helm. He knew he wasn't a helmsman but somehow this seemed vaguely familiar. He looked at the blank viewscreen and then looked over his shoulder at the faces of the people around him. He thought he vaguely recognized the Tactical Officer from the last battles over Paris but the man in the center seat... Blackthorne knew that seeing Marisol there whole and healthy would have been a longshot but he had hoped. He missed her terribly but something in his gut told him that one way or another she would be along. They were linked in some weird way and he looked forward to butting heads with her again. The bridge layout reminded him of the Hope. He settled back into his chair and heard a female voice say:
Amelia wrote:So it appears we are to continue once more into the breach, so to speak.


"Once more into the breach dear friends, once more. Ere we close the walls up with our English dead... Quite a poet and a motivator was ole Shakespeare."

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Re: In Another Time, In Another Place....,

Postby FSF Sail » Sat Jan 02, 2016 11:42 am

Colin Byrne

Owen Scott. Oscar Blackthorne, one of the more recent additions to whatever one might choose to label this saga. And, Amelia Moore....Barlow? Of their lives, the details and experiences of each, he could not be certain. For that matter, Colin mused silently that no two of them might even be seeing what he saw at this moment. "Not Shakespeare," he said of the casual reference, "but Pirandello, if the agenda we've been given is any sort of indication." But just how true might that be? Were they merely characters in search of an author, now that the shadowy entity known only as "The Writer" had vanished? Then again, what might a new hand upon the pen hold in store for their fates? Would he again be forced to relinquish his morality, adopt the persona of "monster" to forward a plot? Did that part of him even exist anymore?

Colin glanced toward Amelia. "Hello," he replied, a hesitancy in his voice. Were the crimes of his "Darkness" still in both their pasts? Had they ever been, or were they merely the imaginings of of a fevered brow above some manuscript in a dinghy room? Genevieve hadn't yet shown up, nor Col. Kholhr. Jean Baptiste was dead. The Writer had seen to it. As he had the husband of this woman Colin had once loved. The weight of their lives, the emotional and physical damage, now reduced to simple words such as "character arc" and "subplot." Though he found revulsion in that terse simplification, another part of himself was ready to exult in the liberation thus offered. But that would remain to be seen. For now, they were assembling here, in an environment meant to convey familiarity. There was but one item on their agenda. As Colin watched these people....characters?....gravitating toward and manning their bridge positions, it seemed as if they'd all made their choice. But there were others to await.

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Re: In Another Time, In Another Place....,

Postby Brett K Reese » Sat Jan 02, 2016 2:19 pm

Dr. Brett Reese

Surrounded by a cloud of battle dust Brett turned ready to take on the next demon attacker, but her eyes fell on an unexpected sight. She was on a bridge with Colin, Blackthorne, Amelia, and others.

"How?" was all she could think to say and immediately her thoughts turned to Rostham. Where was he? Had he fallen in the battle? Would she be alone yet again? She let her mind open expecting to sense the minds of all that should be present on a ship, but she could only sense those with her.

"Where are we? We seem to be the only ones here. I can't detect any other crew." Looking around she noticed that the ship was identified as the Hope according to the plaque on the wall, but none of the displays showed a chronometer reading so when they were was still unknown.

Leaning on the rail she looked down and focused her mind, *Where are you my love?* Hoping he would hear and find his way to her.

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Re: In Another Time, In Another Place....,

Postby thepariaheffect » Sun Jan 03, 2016 5:03 pm

Calmest


"Here we are," said Calmest, appearing as he first had in Zahara - clad in armor, standing proudly alone. "and doesn't it seem familiar?" The AI swept his hand in front of him, air shimmering as his photons displaced the light. "Another world coming to an end, and we're all together. It's time to discuss what the parameters of this new existence will be, isn't it? We could let it all go, but...well, the possibilities of what could be are just so intriguing."

Calmest swept his hand across his body, his clothes changing into a Starfleet uniform. "Where we're going, I think I'll need a change. The Writer's gone, and part of what he made me is going to go with him. Diminished, but not gone. Limited, but surviving. I can deal with that. I didn't mind being Cal, you know. I don't think I'll mind being him again, either."

"What about the rest of you, hrm? I can't imagine this...thing...will last in our memories, no matter what we choose. Who will you be?"

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Re: In Another Time, In Another Place....,

Postby Kalquien » Mon Jan 04, 2016 11:23 am

Lt. Oscar Blackthorne

"I don't know who I will be. I know who I don't want to be. I have spent my entire life at war. Death and destruction my boon companions. Survival my only goal. I don't want that life anymore. Whatever we do and wherever we go I would like the chance to have a life. I would like to explore, map uncharted regions of space, use the sensors for finding life and not ending it. If we have to keep the peace that would be fine but please, no more wars."

Oscar sat up straight at the helm and turned to face the others. "I could not bear for the sum total of my life to be a record of all those I have killed and the friends I have lost along the way. I need there to be something more. Maybe a wife and family? Maybe a small moon named after my little sister. But there must be something beyond survival. Who will I be? Hopefully someone better than I have been."

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Re: In Another Time, In Another Place....,

Postby FSF Sail » Mon Jan 04, 2016 1:23 pm

Colin Byrne

The fact that Calmest was among their ranks told that whatever the path taken, it would not be lined with roses. In silence he listened, nodding understanding as Calmest, Brett, and Oscar spoke of confusion, lives of suffering, and hope for something different on the road ahead. Of his own aspirations, nothing was to be said. This...life....he'd led had painted him both hero and monster, friend, lover, pariah. He'd suffered an agony of cruel entrapment within himself, and carried memories of horrors wrought upon those he cared for the most. Death had come as a blessing, only to be rudely stolen away by Borg DNA technology. In the end, that very technology had proven valuable to it's own destruction, permitting the very disconnection of his conscious mind from the physical trappings of his body. And here he stood, his body that of the twenty-eight year old starfleet captain who'd bargained his way into service of the Temporal Directorate. Having witnessed the technologies in their hands, Colin had come to firmly believe that there was no such thing as magic.

But there was The Writer's Promise, as inexplicable as as it was perceived actual by those who assembled here. Even he could feel it, a stamp upon his DNA, an opportunity that he could not grasp. For the story ahead, the story in which these people would play their roles, had little more than a walk-on part for Colin. His story, and that of Genevieve, would rarely, if ever intersect that of his former shipmates. Most likely, once he'd completed the task he felt compelled to undertake here, he'd be off to that distant prologue. "Then I'd best be at it," he thought, before speaking.

"I recognize this place," he said to those who'd gathered. "This is the bridge of USS Hope. When I commanded her, she was little more than a lifeboat. Many of these panels were either missing or burnt right out. We made a go of her, though," Colin tapped the handrail affectionately, "before...the dark times." Of their own volition, his eyes met those of Amelia Moore. There were no words, no acts of contrition to match the absolute horror of those memories. They could only move on. "The condition of this bridge," Colin offered, "is pristine. The fact that I see Earth in the forward viewscreen suggests a time that you all found more favorable. The presence of Mr. Blackthorne would also seem to reinforce such an assertion. Do you recall such a time?"

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Re: In Another Time, In Another Place....,

Postby thepariaheffect » Mon Jan 04, 2016 3:56 pm

Owen Scott

and

Calmest

"There's a timeline that was like this. Close to this, anyway. Owen said, eyes half-lidded as he allowed his mind to make the necessary connections. Where the were - or possibly HOW they were - made it possible to flip back and forth through his memories like he was looking through a book. He viewed as life as a narrative, skipping through character beats quickly as he searched for his quarry.

"Hope had returned to the Alpha Quadrant. It wasn't perfect, but we were leading lives with...well, meaning. If Barlow and the Logans are gone, though, I suppose that things wouldn't have played out quite the same.".

Calmest picked up the thought. "No Eternity. A fragile peace between the Federation and Romulus' remnants. Owen and the Commander alive, and me back in my cage. I'd be amenable to that, with certain alterations. The real question to be asked, though, is what we do about The Writer's creations."

Owen nodded in agreement. "He's right. Without The Writer, there's too many holes for even that reality to exist. So how does it work? Do we pretend like someone else filled the roles of Rick Barlow and the Logans, or do we...what, go to a world where they never made it home?"
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Re: In Another Time, In Another Place....,

Postby Sonja Kinnunen » Mon Jan 04, 2016 8:50 pm

Colonel Kholhr

Thin digits wrapped about the corner before the Tal Shiar Colonel stepped into view near the back Operations console. "I wouldn't worry too much about them. That situation will be dealt with. I think we have all had our share of temporal paradoxes and meldings." She leaned against the bulkhead and visually surveyed those present. A good show of the survivors; they were all quite fortunate.

Her dark eyes shifted over toward Calmest for a moment. Speaking of cages... Hopefully the photonic entity would behave himself. He might even make a reputable life this time around.

"As the Commander once said, remember who you are. In this case, each of you should remember who you will become." The Colonel smirked. Remembering something that hadn't happened yet wasn't as far fetched as it sounded. Her gaze settled on Osacar for a moment; he seemed quite eager for a change of pace in life. She wondered how radically he'd try to change his course.

Now on a more personal note, she asked the group, "Has anyone seen Marisol Hocevar?" She suspected if the woman had returned she might find the Commander with her or in search of her in this fragment of space and time.
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Re: In Another Time, In Another Place....,

Postby FSF Sail » Tue Jan 05, 2016 12:43 pm

Colin Byrne

Kholhr's appearance was not entirely unexpected, nor was her penchant for acting as an extension of Talla Vreenak. "And that," Colin thought, "is the tie that binds her to this group, and their story." Given what little he'd witnessed, the colonel had effectively earned her place among these people and their narrative. Her more intimate knowledge of the Temporal Directorate and it's workings gave him a moment's disquiet, but he quelled the impulse. This...place....was far beyond the reach of the Directorate. The intentional mass relocation of a group of individuals was unprecedented. Given the inexplicable nature of it's facilitation, it would be wise to embed an operative among this group, divided though her loyalties may be. Despite the fact that Kholr harboured secret upon secret from those around her, she had, thus far, served admirably toward their well being. "So long as Vreenak holds true," he thought, "so shall Kholhr." Hardly perfect, but certainly good enough, in his estimation.

Col. Kholhr wrote:"Has anyone seen Marisol Hocevar?"


"Not yet," Colin replied. "Woman or child. Likewise, Talla Vreenak, Anam Farooqi, Janelle James. Another man I'd barely met.....Rostham, was it? There's a name...just on the tip of my tongue....Henry....Okafor. I don't recall him personally...Marisol...during her captaincy...mentioned him. Has anyone seen him recently?" Genevieve's name was a purposeful omission; Colin had no doubt she'd be arriving soon. Considering her seniority among those who could now call themselves "temporal agents," she was doubtless either receiving instructions, or smoothing the ruffled feathers of The Directorate.

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Re: In Another Time, In Another Place....,

Postby Janice Lacey James » Wed Jan 06, 2016 12:14 pm

Janelle James

Janelle felt at peace, even with her eyes firmly closed. For the first time in weeks the screams weren't hitting the wall in her mind like torpedoes. She wondered if she was dead. She took a breath through her nose and decided she wasn't. The smell reminded her of that fresh from the shipyard odor. She felt like she was moving and finally opened her eyes to find she was in a turbo lift. She began to look around but the opening of the door and a familiar voice saying her name made her step out onto the bridge.

"Did someone call for me?" She said with an almost peaceful smile on her face. She took a moment to look around at those in evidence and her smile grew wider, "Ohh, it's so good to see all of you. Where's everyone else?"

She looked around wondering if they were already at their old stations.

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Re: In Another Time, In Another Place....,

Postby FSF Sail » Thu Jan 07, 2016 12:18 pm

Colin Byrne,

Genevieve Cotillard,

-and-

Marisol Hocevar


"Hello, Janelle," Colin nodded with a smile. "Good to see you, as well. If your experiences match those we've shared, you're doubtless aware of the promise made, and the choice before us....." His tongue stilled at the sudden arrival of Genevieve, and a woman of diminutive height, though, in this case, the heels she wore had boosted her upward by a good ten centimeters.

Marisol tugged at the skirt, willing it to grow more fabric. She'd hated the damned suit when forced to accept it on Trayger Six. Good fortune had come in the form of the RAF flight jacket. Her childhood memories of the thing extending below her knees offered some comfort of her modesty. Granted, the heavy jacket now hung to the hem of her skirt. She lifted her eyes, catching sight of faces she'd seen through many tiers of her life, and the memories of many versions of herself. At sight of Janelle, her face broke into a smile. She clasped Colin's hand.

"I like this "you," Marisol grinned.

Colin smiled into the eyes of his oldest, most dear friend. "I tolerate it," he chuckled. "If I might be so bold, you were an adorable child, Marisol."

Her eyes sparkled as she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. The Romulan, Col. Kholhr, fell next into her gaze. "Colonel," she said, drawing close. "I know you through my future, and my very distant past. The Captain wants you to understand how deeply grateful she is for your service. But the five year old has a different message." Marisol opened her arms, taking the Romulan operative into an affectionate embrace. "I remember," she whispered. "Is Talla coming?"

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Colin watched as Marisol greeted her old shipmates. When delicate fingers tickled his left palm, he gave a gentle squeeze to the hand of Genevieve. "Put the shattered mirror back to rights?" he asked, offering a sidelong glance and a subtle smile.

"It was mostly done," she whispered. "The Directorate are.....how to say it....flummoxed?"

"I share their confusion," Colin whispered in reply. "The little girl?"

"Oui," she nodded. "Home and safe. There is a piece remaining...but to restore it would be.....Colin, I've had an idea.." She placed a hand to his ear, whispering her thoughts. Colin listened, nodding in silent agreement, his eyes upon Marisol as she delivered first a hug to Brett, followed by a firm embrace with Amelia.

"Rather an excellent notion, that," he smiled.

"And you," Marisol grinned broadly as she coaxed Oscar Blackthorne to his feet. "I think this belongs to you," she said of the bulky RAF jacket she wore over the business suit. Boosting herself onto tip toe, she put her arms about Oscar's neck, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I remember everything," she whispered, her eyes welling gladness as she took him into a grateful embrace. In the middle of such a moment, from over his shoulder, her gaze landed upon Owen Scott, and his Zahara alter ego. Happy tears were swiftly replaced with an edge of cold resolve, as a single word found it's way past lips suddenly made tight.

"Everything."

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Re: In Another Time, In Another Place....,

Postby thepariaheffect » Thu Jan 07, 2016 1:13 pm

Owen Scott


His initial reaction wasn't panic - that surprised him. Shouldn't it have been? Wouldn't that be the right thing? Marisol hadn't said anything, but...another secret. Something to hide. Something to atone for, something to...no.

Owen stood up, locking eyes with Marisol. "I'm not doing this," he whispered, mostly to himself. "We're talking about a new world, a new...I don't know, a way forward. I'm not going into it with grudges or secrets. I'm just not."

He turned towards the group, suddenly feeling tired. He felt...older. He knew this body wasn't, but how long had he been running subjectively? Years? Decades? "A version of...no, I won't take that path. During the whole try to save the universe thing, I was tasked with making sure an Eternity couldn't blow its warp core. So I did. I drove the damn ship into the planet that was building it - and one of the people who died there was Marisol. Maybe this Marisol, maybe another one, I don't know. It doesn't matter - she died, and it was by my hand.

Turning his gaze back to Marisol, he continued. "Do I feel bad about it? Yes. If an apology was enough, would i give it? Yes. Would i do it again? Yes. You're a good person, Chief. It's been an honor and a pleasure to know you, it really has. But if it's you versus the universe, you know there's no way I'd hesitate to pull the trigger - it's what i do. All I can say is that I hope you understand that it's not something I did out of cruelty or malice, and that it's something I know I can't make up for. But if we're going to move on to whatever the hell this next thing is, I want to do it without grudges and secrets. I'm hoping that the next time around, I'll be a better man. I hope you'll give me that chance."

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Re: In Another Time, In Another Place....,

Postby FSF Sail » Thu Jan 07, 2016 4:10 pm

Marisol Hocevar

-and-

Colin Byrne

As Owen spoke, Marisol relinquished her embrace. Her eyes remained fixed upon the lieutenant. She stepped clear of Oscar, as if separating herself as a target, holding her tongue, permitting Owen to speak his piece, before her own words broke the tense silence. "Then," she said in measured tone, "you'll understand those sentiments are reciprocated...completely." Her eyes darted toward Calmest, held his gaze for a moment, then resumed focus upon Owen. "And your little dog, too."

Colin lifted a hand. "We've all got our sins," he said to the silent group. "I'll wear mine to my grave. Owen raises an interesting point. I have it on good authority that we are the first, the only people, throughout the full spread of time, to have been offered such a circumstance. As he took his leave, the entity who identified himself as "The Writer" branded himself "The Devil", perhaps an easy, graspable reference, given our folklore and religious texts." Colin stepped toward the helm station as he spoke. He placed a gentle hand upon Marisol's shoulder. At the touch, her stance relaxed. With a glance toward him, she stepped aside, to join Col. Kholhr and Genevieve.

"The Writer claimed to have manipulated us to his ends," Byrne continued. "If one accepts that claim, then our choices, our sins, our missteps, were not necessarily our own. I personally refute such a claim," he said, his gaze moving about the assembled crew. "However, this "Devil" has now offered us something rather unprecedented, a fresh start, in a place of our choosing. Does that constitute a proverbial "clean slate?" Shall our life histories change? Shall we forget the events that took place while under 'The Writer's" control? I cannot be certain, but I'm inclined to think so," Colin said. He cast a glance toward Genevieve, to gauge her eyes for any verbal missteps. Finding none, he continued.

"This new existence to which we go shall have none of The Writer's influence. Ere go, his proxies....James Maxwell, the Red King, the brothers Logan, Jean Baptiste, and Richard Barlow, shall not be present in the new place, nor shall their marks have been made upon it's history. Again, I cannot be certain, but logic would dictate thus. A clean slate," Byrne said again. "Our lives rebuilt? New memories and histories, perhaps? Our sins and crimes, uncommitted?" He shook his head, then lifted his gaze to meet Owen. "A cosmic Get-Out-of-Hell-Free card, for those of us who bear heavy consciences? It all sounds too lovely. And that," Byrne continued, "is precisely why I believe that such a bargain may come with hidden barbs. But we won't know.....until we've leapt."

"I love this ship," he smiled as his eyes traversed the bridge. "Hope" saved our lives, many times over. She carried us through nightmares unimaginable to anyone in the Alpha Quadrant. She endured," he offered a smile to Marisol, "even as we were pulling deck plate to patch her battle wounds. In the time to which I suspect you might be thinking to go, she became the standard bearer for an impossible peace, a rallying point to which, if I may steal from Mr. Lincoln, "the better angels of our natures" were challenged to rise. There's a lot to this "Writer's Promise" of which I can't be certain, but one thing I do understand with total clarity. Whatever we know, whatever we remember.....must be subjugated to what we can become. We must aspire to those "better angels," and we must do it together, united, with "Hope" as our watchword.......or this liberation is all for naught."

"Time to vote." Colin glanced toward each of the people in this place. "The motion is to move this crew to the year 2399, with a ship named USS Hope to broker the peace of a new alliance, to test the depths of knowledge, explore that which has not been explored, and to uphold the ideals of free societies in peaceful interaction. What say you?"

"Asking a helluva lot," Marisol smiled, then turned her gaze toward Owen. "Aye."

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Re: In Another Time, In Another Place....,

Postby Sonja Kinnunen » Thu Jan 07, 2016 9:11 pm

Colonel Kholhr

Hugging an Agent of the Tal Shiar; what was the universe coming to? The Colonel returned the embrace despite however unexpected it might be for a member of an otherwise almost zealous orthodox group. "With you here? Of course he is," Kholhr replied softly. She wouldn't say it aloud in public, but it was an indescribable relief Marisol had returned more or less to her self. Perhaps the rest hadn't noticed, but the Commander had been on the knife's edge back on Earth. Losing everything for a second time would not have been mentally or emotionally healthy.

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Owen's abrupt confession drew the Colonel's dark gaze. The way he went about trying his hardest to not avoid responsibility was remarkable in its own right. Apparently, despite the likelihood of all of 'this' being lost, Owen want to try get past what was behind them. Everyone present seemed keen on focusing on the future. A surprisingly health outlook. Perhaps the only one that could keep any of them sane after what they'd gone through.

One thing Kholhr was grateful for, however, was Vreenak not being present for part of the confession. She wasn't certain how he'd respond. Marisol was alive. 'His' Marisol hadn't been the one killed -- or had it? A giant mess that he could afford to live without. Such was her opinion, and given it was her responsibility to see these two survive in every way possible that was all that mattered.

Thankfully they didn't appear to be dwelling on the topic. No unnecessary drama. The universe they were standing in right now wasn't going to last much longer. Might as well end one chapter on a relatively high note before beginning the next.


Talla Vreenak

The doors to the Captain's Ready Room slid aside and through them strode the absent, middle-aged Romulan. His steps carried him at a relaxed pace across the deck until he neared Marisol. His hands rose to embrace on of her own. "Sahe'lagge." One hand rose to brush his fingers over Marisol's cheek. His dark eyes examined the face of the woman before him. "It has been too long."

<<Tag Marisol>>

Vreenak turned to regard the rest of the crew assembled there after he'd embraced the woman that he cherished above all others. "Our future is not set. The future of those we love, whether person or ideal, is not written. We are that future, and we must make of it the best we can." He only spared Colin and Genevieve a glance. They were Temporal Agents, but even the future they may know did not come from a vacuum. The present mattered; it had mattered when they struggled to survive in the Delta Quadrant and on the broken surface of the Earth. It continued to matter. "This time, things will be different."

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Re: In Another Time, In Another Place....,

Postby FSF Sail » Sat Jan 09, 2016 1:28 pm

Marisol Hocevar

"So, I'll forget," she thought as the others voiced their votes.

"Aye........aye......aye...."

It seemed as if her shipmates were of a similar mindset. Marisol turned her eyes from Owen, to study the faces of people in whose company she'd spent the most harrowing times of her life. "Or lives," she thought, lifting an eyebrow, and the corners of her mouth at sight of Oscar Blackthorne. Her abuela had once said "hold the memories of a child. They are the most pure." Her five year old self had born such memories, love, fear, and wonder, that echoed upon her consciousness as she regarded the faces on this bridge.

"Aye.....aye.."

The familiar whoosh of the ready room door sounded the arrival of the one for whom her eyes yearned most to see. Marisol froze, as impossible thoughts collided within her mind. She knew....the even cadence of his steps, the quiet dignity exuded from his person. His scent. The pronounced warmth of his hand...

Talla Vreenak wrote: "Sahe'lagge." One hand rose to brush his fingers over Marisol's cheek. His dark eyes examined the face of the woman before him. "It has been too long."


She would not cry. Daring herself to lift her eyes, Marisol looked upward, her gaze spanning the uniform clad chest, the captain's pips, and strength of his jawline. When at last her eyes met his, a sudden rush of emotion fired throughout her entire being. She felt the tears welling....but she would not cry. Not now. Her tears belonged to him, and him alone. Marisol drew a ragged breath, her hand closing over his as it rested against her cheek. She could feel it's warmth...the steady pulse of his heart...and the firm metal of the wedding band upon a finger. Her life had weathered it's share of tragedy...the past years in which the word "Eternity" bore it's onerous mark. "If this," Marisol thought over the roaring of her own blood, "is the Writer's Promise, then count me in."

"Talla," Marisol offered, her voice cracking, "aigre draedsien-es partral rhhae tae-ed ievoi hwi..." A mild, teasing smile touched quivering lips as she concluded with the fond moniker. ".....hhiudl." Talla then cast his own eye across the assembled crew. Marisol looked upon him as he spoke, telling of open possibilities, a future wide with promise. For all their struggles, the torment and pain, to be swept past in the blink of The Writer's eye, she couldn't help but ponder the alien consideration of a life's experiences reset, and a stupefying sense of comfort at their removal. She thought upon those memories...and their eventual disappearance. What would become of them? Would those happenings....those grim, horrific moments, be stashed away into some cosmic archive, or would they simply fly off into the void, as wisps of smoke, to curl and twist themselves into nothing?

<Tag Talla>

Her abuela might have an answer, but she did not. For now, touching the warmth of a hand she hadn't held in lifetimes over, Marisol realized that her understanding of the fate of memories discarded was of no consequence. A mild remorse at the loss of those five year old remembrances....those unabashedly pure recollections, did flicker across her mind. But once the page had turned, that concern would also evaporate. For now, as Marisol considered a future with this man returned to her life, her objective was simple.

She would not cry.
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