Major Ishani 'Snowball' Singh - Crash Recorder
7 views
Skip to first unread message
Karrod Niac
Jun 12, 2025, 11:58:19 PM6/12/25
to USS Ronin – StarBase 118 Star Trek PBEM RPG
((Zen Lounge & Rock Garden, Starboard Catamaran, Deck 1, USS Ronin))
Singh: I should have...should have died with them...I was responsible for them and I let them down...I failed them…
She felt the hot tears streaming down her cheeks, could feel her hands shaking, but the thought she'd fought so hard to keep inside finally wrestled its way out.
Raga: Why? What good would you dying with them do? You lived, there’s nothing wrong with that.
She could see their faces...could hear their voices. Could hear their final anguished moments over the comms in her ears. And then only terrible silence.
Singh: I owed them...owed all of them...it was my duty...
A deep sob wracked her chest but steady hands with an impossibly strong grip held her, kept her from pitching forward.
Raga: You led them and they died in the course of their duty. You almost died too. I saw the report from your crash landing on the Excalibur. They had to use phasers to get you out of the cockpit.
Shattered fragments of memory, buried by trauma and injury, forced their way to the surface. Hanging upside down in the cockpit, the straps of her crash couch digging into her shoulders. Hands and tools pounding on what remained of her canopy. Distant voices shouting to hang on. She couldn't get out. She'd never get out of that cockpit.
Singh: I didn't protect my people...I failed them...failed them all...
Raga: You didn’t, you didn’t fail Ishani. You lived, yes, but so did hundreds, if not thousands of people on Deep Space Thirty Three. Because of their sacrifice and yours. You held the line, that’s all any of us can do.
She could see their faces...all those young men and women she'd briefed. The shuttle and runabout crews who were among the first to die. Her pilots who fought tenaciously, fiercely...but were simply overwhelmed by an enemy whose numbers seemed endless. The whole of space burned around her...burned away her people..her friends. Her side flared with agony, the wound suddenly fresh again. She couldn't expand her chest, couldn't take in air. She wasn't in a garden, she wasn't safe...she was going to die.
Singh: ...I can't...can't...breath...
Raga: Fight it!
Ishani had never felt more vulnerable. Never felt less capable of fighting, of moving, of making it one step further. She felt broken, beaten, exhausted as she never had.
Singh: ...I can't...
Raga: Fight. It. You said you didn’t have any weapon you knew that could beat it, you have us. Every one on the Ronin. Picture us. You remember seeing the Excalibur show up, how it turned the tide of the siege and forced the Lattice Alliance to retreat alongside the Ronin and Khitomer? If you feel yourself starting to panic again, picture that sight. Imagine all of us are the Ronin, badly damaged and all, but still fighting, pushing them back.
In her mind the hands on her shoulders went from one to many. Where she'd been alone at the center of a silent, oppressive void she felt something else. That tingle on the back of her neck when she knew her wingmates had fallen into position around her. That sense of her squadron around her, covering her blind spots, protecting her just as she protected them. A unit...a squadron...a crew.
She heaved out a breath...and the next came more slowly. Her lungs expanded because there was no wound in her side. Her heart beat because she wasn't bleeding to death. Her eyes opened because she wasn't trapped, wasn't blind, wasn't cut off from everyone and everything.
She wasn't alone.
Singh: ...I'm...I'm...ok...it's...passing. I think...I think...I'm ok. For now...
Toryn turned to face her and looked close. She felt...something within her shift. Some lifting she couldn't quite describe. A burden...lessened...if only just a bit. When he finished searching her eyes for whatever it was, he nodded in a curt, satisfied motion without breaking their gaze.
Raga: When I start to feel that way, I picture the Atlantis. I was held captive for three months, but I knew my crew would come for me. And they did. Phasers and an angry half Romulan and all. When those past fears kick up I picture that ship in my mind, with all those on board who saved me. And when I feel like I don’t deserve to be walking around, when so many aren’t, I remember their names. ::He added context:: From the day the Consortium first tried to destroy my world. Twenty seven died. Rukov, Tanya. Petty Officer First Class. Durron, Kip. Crewman First Class. Engineering.
Ishani nodded in understanding, adding to the litany.
Singh: Captain William 'Cookie' Oaks...1st Lieutenant Tarav 'Stembolt' Chalt...
Raga: Response
It took several long minutes of silence but eventually her heart slowed and the lost tranquility of the garden returned. The stones no longer seemed quite so hateful. The trickle of water no longer an irritant. She eventually looked to the shattered bit of rake and let out a small, soft laugh...her first in what felt like a long time.
Singh: I suppose I should repair that.
Raga: Response
She stood, emotionally exhausted but feeling more steady upon her feet than she had in weeks.
Singh: Thank you Comm...Toryn. Thank you. I am not...practiced in asking for assistance.
Raga: Response
She gathered up the broken bits of rake and considered keeping them as a small but important reminder.
Singh: Respectfully...I withdraw my request to be removed from active duty. I believe I may still be of some use.
Raga: Response
With a final deep breath she stepped away, bits of broken rake tucked under one arm. There was more she would need to do...more she'd need to face before she was fully returned to herself...but Toryn had helped her find a starting place. Had guided her towards that first step upon the road. She would not dishonor him...or any of the others who had brought her here...but failing to walk upon any longer.
[Tags/End for Singh!]
============================
Major Ishani 'Snowball' Singh
Starfleet Marine Corp
Commander Aerospace Group - USS Ronin
V239509GT0
Singh: I should have...should have died with them...I was responsible for them and I let them down...I failed them…
She felt the hot tears streaming down her cheeks, could feel her hands shaking, but the thought she'd fought so hard to keep inside finally wrestled its way out.
Raga: Why? What good would you dying with them do? You lived, there’s nothing wrong with that.
She could see their faces...could hear their voices. Could hear their final anguished moments over the comms in her ears. And then only terrible silence.
Singh: I owed them...owed all of them...it was my duty...
A deep sob wracked her chest but steady hands with an impossibly strong grip held her, kept her from pitching forward.
Raga: You led them and they died in the course of their duty. You almost died too. I saw the report from your crash landing on the Excalibur. They had to use phasers to get you out of the cockpit.
Shattered fragments of memory, buried by trauma and injury, forced their way to the surface. Hanging upside down in the cockpit, the straps of her crash couch digging into her shoulders. Hands and tools pounding on what remained of her canopy. Distant voices shouting to hang on. She couldn't get out. She'd never get out of that cockpit.
Singh: I didn't protect my people...I failed them...failed them all...
Raga: You didn’t, you didn’t fail Ishani. You lived, yes, but so did hundreds, if not thousands of people on Deep Space Thirty Three. Because of their sacrifice and yours. You held the line, that’s all any of us can do.
She could see their faces...all those young men and women she'd briefed. The shuttle and runabout crews who were among the first to die. Her pilots who fought tenaciously, fiercely...but were simply overwhelmed by an enemy whose numbers seemed endless. The whole of space burned around her...burned away her people..her friends. Her side flared with agony, the wound suddenly fresh again. She couldn't expand her chest, couldn't take in air. She wasn't in a garden, she wasn't safe...she was going to die.
Singh: ...I can't...can't...breath...
Raga: Fight it!
Ishani had never felt more vulnerable. Never felt less capable of fighting, of moving, of making it one step further. She felt broken, beaten, exhausted as she never had.
Singh: ...I can't...
Raga: Fight. It. You said you didn’t have any weapon you knew that could beat it, you have us. Every one on the Ronin. Picture us. You remember seeing the Excalibur show up, how it turned the tide of the siege and forced the Lattice Alliance to retreat alongside the Ronin and Khitomer? If you feel yourself starting to panic again, picture that sight. Imagine all of us are the Ronin, badly damaged and all, but still fighting, pushing them back.
In her mind the hands on her shoulders went from one to many. Where she'd been alone at the center of a silent, oppressive void she felt something else. That tingle on the back of her neck when she knew her wingmates had fallen into position around her. That sense of her squadron around her, covering her blind spots, protecting her just as she protected them. A unit...a squadron...a crew.
She heaved out a breath...and the next came more slowly. Her lungs expanded because there was no wound in her side. Her heart beat because she wasn't bleeding to death. Her eyes opened because she wasn't trapped, wasn't blind, wasn't cut off from everyone and everything.
She wasn't alone.
Singh: ...I'm...I'm...ok...it's...passing. I think...I think...I'm ok. For now...
Toryn turned to face her and looked close. She felt...something within her shift. Some lifting she couldn't quite describe. A burden...lessened...if only just a bit. When he finished searching her eyes for whatever it was, he nodded in a curt, satisfied motion without breaking their gaze.
Raga: When I start to feel that way, I picture the Atlantis. I was held captive for three months, but I knew my crew would come for me. And they did. Phasers and an angry half Romulan and all. When those past fears kick up I picture that ship in my mind, with all those on board who saved me. And when I feel like I don’t deserve to be walking around, when so many aren’t, I remember their names. ::He added context:: From the day the Consortium first tried to destroy my world. Twenty seven died. Rukov, Tanya. Petty Officer First Class. Durron, Kip. Crewman First Class. Engineering.
Ishani nodded in understanding, adding to the litany.
Singh: Captain William 'Cookie' Oaks...1st Lieutenant Tarav 'Stembolt' Chalt...
Raga: Response
It took several long minutes of silence but eventually her heart slowed and the lost tranquility of the garden returned. The stones no longer seemed quite so hateful. The trickle of water no longer an irritant. She eventually looked to the shattered bit of rake and let out a small, soft laugh...her first in what felt like a long time.
Singh: I suppose I should repair that.
Raga: Response
She stood, emotionally exhausted but feeling more steady upon her feet than she had in weeks.
Singh: Thank you Comm...Toryn. Thank you. I am not...practiced in asking for assistance.
Raga: Response
She gathered up the broken bits of rake and considered keeping them as a small but important reminder.
Singh: Respectfully...I withdraw my request to be removed from active duty. I believe I may still be of some use.
Raga: Response
With a final deep breath she stepped away, bits of broken rake tucked under one arm. There was more she would need to do...more she'd need to face before she was fully returned to herself...but Toryn had helped her find a starting place. Had guided her towards that first step upon the road. She would not dishonor him...or any of the others who had brought her here...but failing to walk upon any longer.
[Tags/End for Singh!]
============================
Major Ishani 'Snowball' Singh
Starfleet Marine Corp
Commander Aerospace Group - USS Ronin
V239509GT0
Reply all
Reply to author
Forward
0 new messages