[JP] Lt. Valesha Sienelis & PO Chris Johns - Evening Shadows and the Stars Appear (Part II)
Quinn Reynolds
((Holodeck, USS Gorkon))
Language absented itself once again, the Romulan reduced to helpless staring for a second time. Words she'd spoken had come back to haunt in ways she had never imagined, her explanation of why she tried not to think too far ahead spun into tangles in her Russian's inner world. The faltering smile and subtle, melancholy shifts of his expression that she'd seen since visiting his home suddenly made sense, and her heart hurt at the thought of how long he'd been carrying that with him, waiting and expecting to be discarded.
Sienelis: Chris—
Without so much of a glimmer of an idea where or how to begin, she shook her head, an impotent sigh rushing from her lips. Searching for inspiration, Valesha looked away from him as she dug through her stubbornly vacant mind, jade eyes absently wandering over the interior of the ballet studio they had spent so much time within.
The holographic recreation of a ballet studio. Her expression shifted, pensive as the thought bloomed and grew, and she looked back toward her partner. Words had failed her so far, but perhaps there was a way to show him.
Sienelis: Computer, run— ::she hesitated, her heart giving a painful thump, then ploughed ahead,:: —run Sienelis One.
The stately elegance of the dance studio faded, panelled and mirrored walls giving way to the pitch velvet expanse of a night outdoors. The gentle shine of dual moons lit their way, and stars sparkled overhead in the heavens, constellations entirely unfamiliar to the human, intimately known to the Romulan. It was a sky she'd spent nearly twenty years staring up at, wondering and dreaming of its secrets, oblivious to the catastrophic future that would see her propelled into it.
An autumn breeze brought with it the brine of the sea and the earthen scent of woodlands. Low, gentle hills rolled away in every direction, wildflowers and tall grasses swaying around their legs, warmth earth under her bare feet. Now that she thought about it, Peshkova had borne a striking similarity to this place, right down to the meadow they had danced in. A little piece of herself carved out and stolen by that illusion.
The ballerino stood beside her, looking up at the expansive sky overhead, and the unfiltered view of the stars without ambient light getting in the way. An entirely different starfield, nebulas and constellations, visible stars shooting from one side to the other. Somewhere in between the ballet studio and standing with grass touching his knees beneath the cut of his shorts, his heartache had near disintegrated, only to take on a swelling sense of unfamiliarity.
When he glanced back to Valesha, she looked as part of the environment as the grass itself, as though she belonged there in the swaying meadow, everything bathed in twilight, as though the day was coming to an end. The scent on the air so familiar to the young Russian; reminiscent of Valesha’s quarters at times. An ease swept in with it, the tense that had coiled around his heart dropped off the edge of a cliff.
Johns: Where is this?
Sienelis: ch'Rihan. Romulus. ::She paused.:: My Romulus.
Throat dry, her heart hammered inside her chest. No one but her had ever seen this program, in part because it hadn't existed until recent days. Valesha had never had any desire to conjure up a holographic simulation of her home, content to keep it in memory and not torture herself with a five-sense recreation of what she'd lost. Taking a breath, she leaned closer to him, lifting an arm and pointing toward a solitary cottage not far from the treeline, windows bright and cheerful in the night.
Sienelis: That was my home, where we grew up. If you squint, you can see Taeval's garden behind it. And the building next door, with the tall chimney? That was my mother's forge. ::She gestured away, toward the green hills and forest.:: We used to go walking in those woods, and we'd gather berries in the summer and mushrooms in the autumn.
Her arm swept across the landscape, now indicating a ribbon of glittering water a short walk from the family home. It wound its way across the countryside, pooling in a cove at the coastline and then flowing into a calm sea. The horizon glowed in that direction, a dense, molten gold at the foot of the sky.
Sienelis: That's the river we used to swim in and there, the cove it feeds into? That's where I learned to dive. The light across the sea, that's the capital city, Ki Baratan. We used to go there to visit my father, but for everything else, we'd go to, ::she turned to look behind them, the distant outlines of tall spires visible against another pool of amber on the horizon,:: Tal K'shir. Less pompous. Better food.
Chris followed the lines of her hand as she pointed out places that no longer existed, except there in the hololdeck, except in her heart and mind, savoured forever. Like he’d shown her from the window of the apartment — the city lights of Saint Petersburg in the evening — here was a recreation of a place, of a planet, he’d never get to see or feel. He glanced to Valesha as his hand wavered through the wisps of meadow grass, moving with the breeze as it came and went. From frustrated and heartsore, he’d climbed down to relaxed and softened, his features easing ever further until the frown disappeared, replaced by wonder.
Johns: It’s beautiful. ::He could envision spending time there together, wandering through the fields as they had done on Peshkova, a network of paths taken on a meandering journey, slow and unhurried.:: I can imagine you getting lost in the grass on purpose.
He wasn't wrong. Childish games of hide-and-seek, shrieking with laughter while chasing through the grasses with Taeval, the pair of them driving their mother to distraction as they conspired to avoid her calls to come back here right now. She nodded, her smile wan at first, warming at the realisation that those memories weren't quite as touched by sadness as they used to be, her brother not nearly so lost as she'd believed.
Sienelis: It was. And I did. But it's gone now. ::Her smile fell away and her gaze dropped, lost in her own melancholy world for a short time.:: When I said that things end and that's just the way it is... this is what I was talking about. You have to live in the moments you have. We always think we have time, but the universe can have other ideas.
The universe always had other ideas. Time wasn’t something they could hold or keep; it moved like the water in the bay he could hear, the river Valesha had recreated from memory. What little they had of time would never feel like enough. Even at the end of a long life. Even at the end of a short one. Chris exhaled into the night; a breath of relief; of worry held dormant and steeped in agitation, waiting for the final blow to come. Standing there, with her, it felt almost freeing to let go of it.
Johns: It still exists. ::Aware it might sound like he was losing his mind, he looked to his partner, hoping she understood.:: You’ve created the places where you have memories, where your emotions are tied to. The physical places might be gone but the rest of it isn’t. That still exists. And when we find Taeval, relive some of them with him here.
Sienelis: This isn't for Taeval. ::She shook her head.:: It's not for you and it's certainly not for me, I hate it. Feels like summoning ghosts.
A vulnerability exposed at the obvious question of who it was for, awkwardness took hold of the Romulan. Knots formed in her stomach, afraid the answer would be too much, too intense, too soon to be spoken of. Avoiding his gaze, a flush creeping up onto her neck, she rubbed her cheek.
Sienelis: I just thought... if we ever have a family, we can take them to Russia, but there's no taking them to Romulus.
Her words settled on him like the wisps of meadow scent covering their skin as they stood in Valesha’s holographic home. There he could see why she wanted to bring it back to life, to show their children where she came from, how she’d lived in those years before joining Starfleet — a life they would certainly know, from her career alone, if not them both. It was the thought of that which caused the foolish Russian to shake his head at himself with a smile and his hands to run over his face.
A softer edge to his expression gained, Chris felt his Adam's apple bob with his swallow and his heart coil in the brighter gold of the sun dipping below the flanks of the mountains in the distance. While he’d felt the clawing worry of a future she didn't want, she’d planned in her way for an eventuality they might never see. One of the infinite roads in the many possible futures they could take in any number of universes. But this one was theirs.
Johns: If we ever have a family, I’d like to show them this, too.
He imagined walking together with Valesha and their children through the pathways of her childhood home, touching the stones, savouring the scent of the flowers, the water, the atmosphere, and watch the stars display their prism of colours as she had done.
Johns: Swim in the river, teach them to dive in the cove, lose them in the grass...
She nodded, slow and relieved. He'd believed that she saw no future for them, so far from the truth it would have made her laugh if his hurt hadn't been so evident. Now he was seeing what she dared to dream, a secret she'd kept close to her heart, and he wanted to dream it with her. She breathed in, filling her lungs with the sweet, midnight air and offered him a tremulous smile.
Sienelis: Do you understand now? ::She hesitated, summoning the courage to say what she spent her days trying not to even think about, let alone speak out loud.:: I know I'm going to outlive you. I'm never not going to struggle with that. But... ::Her voice cracked and she swallowed, trying to loosen the tightness in her throat, trying to ignore the heat igniting behind her eyes.:: I've lost too much to throw away what we have. However long we're allowed, I want it all.
Lips rolled in on themselves as the Russian nodded, months of apprehension and unease since their visit to Earth leading up to the conversation finally falling into place. Chris twirled the long blades of the meadow around his fingers, like twine, wrapping and letting go again. One long piece caught in a spiral and he tugged it free from the ground, absently playing with the delicate strand of replicated Romulan grass.
A gaze from hazel eyes to jade under a canopy of stars crossed the small patch of lavender-coloured meadow between them and lingered, as though the world could fall away beneath their feet. Stood in another field together, this one drew out a different side of them both, a different conversation, and yet still the same two people in the centre of it. The Romulan and the Russian; lives lived in perpetual motion, spinning around one another like celestial bodies in the unfamiliar starfield above.
He took a breath as his heart thrummed beneath his ribs, like hammering on the door to the rest of his life.
Johns: You know when I asked, and you said Romulan proposals start with a discussion... ::The grass rustled as he took a slow step toward her, a ring of verdure greenery fashioned by fidgeting hands between his thumb and forefinger.:: Can we start discussing it?
TBC
--
Science Officer
USS Gorkon
T238401QR0
&
PO First-Class Christopher Johns
Operations Officer
USS Gorkon
G239304JM0