Ensign Katsim Peri - "Land of the Living"
Amanda Nordstrom
((Hours after the Odin’s rescue, Main Sickbay, Deck 10, USS Thor))
In the stillness, there was nothing. Emptiness. Void. A Vacuum. It consumed its victim, closed its jaws around her and held fast to her spirit. That gentle soul which had been bright, lit like the shining of a star, piercing the ebony vacuity of space. Folding itself, it swallowed her in its grasp, its massive strength leaving her helpless under its mercy. Where once a mind held ambitions, those wispy thoughts, those illusions of the future dimmed, fading into nothing more than unspoken promises, broken, bent, and left to die along with its holder. Where were the dreams that had so filled her head, the aspirations that had driven such a deep seeded desire to take to the heavens, to dwell among the masses of astronomical wonders that filled their galaxy, her eyes full of starlight? They were gone, along with the breath of light, the beat of heart, the warmth of her touch. The chill settled into her bones, flitting her essence away, carrying it off into extinction.
Then it returned.
The faint, sluggish rhythm of the force that had so desperately fought, so frantically clung to existence flickered back to life, slowly at first, then picking up strength, its uncertainty turning into a steady beat. The grey shadee that marked her colour had paled into a sickly green, suddenly began to brighten, returning to the soft hue that spoke of a beating heart and a living soul. Then a breath, then another, a gasp, then a settling down. Yet, the darkness clung, refusing to give in quite so easily, refusing to let go, not just yet. Not just yet. It penetrated to the very depths of her, struggling to retain its grasp hile the medical officers who attended to her fought to snatch her from the clutches of death.
And they succeeded.
Hours past, the stabilisation established and finally that emptiness released its hold, simply allowing her to rest into the subtle senselessness that did not consume, simply allowed for rest, its hold far less malicious, far more healing. Then consciousness returned, slowly, a trickle of acknowledgement, not quite registering by the mind at first, but upon looking back, a realisation of what had been heard and experienced coming to the foremost thoughts. Joined with it was pain, that very presence which had plunged her into the grasp of infinite slumber greeted her once more, that time into the realm of wakefulness, though she was uncertain as to whether or not hse was grateful to its acknowledgement of her survival. Her mouth opened, but rather than words, a long, low sound escaped, alerting others to her wakened state. Then relief came with the gentle pressure of cool metal against her neck and the familiar hiss of a hypospray. The pain subsided even as a friendly voice drove into her thoughts the reality of where she was.
Alieth: Mister Greaves, welcome Miss Katsim to the world of the living. And be grateful to the Prophets and her Cardassian heritage.
Silence resounded thoroughly in the wake of those words, and Peri knew them, understood them, yet could not grasp the full meaning of what had been said. Even though the pain had subsided, the attempts at formulating and processing everything was futile and she could only think of one thing in that particular moment.
Wes.
His laughter answered her question, the fear that had welled up as she had come back to life, had avoided the afterlife, and for a moment, the desire to laugh in return sprang up within her, but she had not the energy to act upon it. Instead, she managed a bare sigh, one of contentment.
The Prophets had answered.
Had answered far more than the request she had made. She had prayed not for herself, but for him, for his protection, for his salvation. It would have been enough if they had simply allowed him to survive, but they had granted far more than she had asked, and with soft utterances, she breathed a prayer of thanks for their grace and mercy.
Greaves: Peri?
He called to her, his voice rippling with the shock and awe, the realisation of where they were, what they had endured, what had occurred. Her eyes opened, and though all she was greeted with was the glare of sterile lights above her, she could imagine his face, the smile spread across it, that jaunty grin that came to his expression so readily.
Katsim: Wes.
Greaves: It's… It's good to hear your voice.
Katsim: I am grateful.
So grateful. Another whispered prayer of that gratitude joined the first, raised to the Prophets who had sustained them through the impossible odds.
Alieth: Response
Greaves: Are we going to have any lasting injuries?
Alieth: Response
There was a severity in her tone that left little room for argument and Peri tried to nod, but it was a futile attempt. Instead, she managed a soft reply.
Katsim: It doesn’t matter.
Later it might. Later she would likely consider the implications of what that trip had cost, what she might struggle with, for a little while if not a lifetime. For the moment, however, she could only think of the blessings she had received.
Greaves: I understand. (smiling wider) No more shuttle rides for a little while then.
At that word, a shiver ran down Peri’s spine. No. No more shuttle rides. Not for a while. Even thinking was like dumping a rock in the pit of her stomach, the dread at the idea far too powerful for her to want to consider. She shoved it aside, her eyes closing, her fatigue and beckoning to her.
Alieth: Response
Greaves: Now that you mention it, I really could use a nap. You'll never believe this doc, but I feel like I got hit by a freight train.
Peri had no idea what that was, just the half formed sense that it was something quite heavy and quite unpleasant. But as he spoke, she couldn’t help but feel that peace wash over her. The Prophets had answered. Both of them had survived. They were home.
[End scene for Peri]
-- Ensign Katsim Peri Science Officer USS Thor M239008AD0