<USS Avalon> "Mad World"
- From: Lyryn Cate <wistful_fancy@xxxxxxxxx>
- To: avalon@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Mon, 10 Oct 2005 14:43:08 -0700 (PDT)
Mad World
Javan Sierra,
Elissabeth Marksbury,
and Bryce Quinn
All Around Me Are Familiar Faces?
Platinum. Gold. Silver. He had gone through so many styles, so many stores,
so many disappointments. He hated promenades because of their size and he
balked at their variety. One store with everything would've suited him just
fine, but some idiot had to create the idea of the strip mall. Bryce had
finally picked out with band he wanted - a perfect platinum ring with four tiny
inset Argellian diamonds.
"Any woman will fall in love with you instantly if you present them with this!"
Sales pitch. He nodded politely and purchased it. The velvet black box sat in
the palm of his hand and he stared at it. In all his life he had never
expected himself to get married. And here he was standing on the precipice of
such a step. "I'm hoping that she's already in love with me," Bryce mumbled as
he walked out of the shop.
Leaning against the slightly protruding wall of the next shop, a man of relaxed
composure and self assurance uncrossed his arms and piped up, "In love?" The
thick accent mocked him.
He stopped in his tracks, his breath catching in his throat. Bryce turned his
head slowly, taking in his surroundings and finally putting a face to the
voice. "Wyatt Deveroe," he smiled, taking a few steps and offering his hand,
"It's been a long time, my old friend. Last I heard after we graduated was you
were posted to the Galveston as an armory officer."
Lightly pushing away from the wall, Deveroe gave the impression of a cat, quick
and stealthy, without even trying. Observant eyes darted all about Bryce's
face, taking measure as he offered his own hand. "Another world ago, it seems.
And I hear you've taken to running about defending officers who've gone off
the synthehol shuttle and gotten in over their head." Finally a twinkle
appeared in his eye. "We should drink in honour of that, my friend." A dry
chuckle followed that sounded more like ancient papyrus tossed about and
besotted by a tiny sand dervish.
"Yes, so we should." Bryce spun on his heel and started to walk, Deveroe by
his side. "It's an honorable and honest job, Wyatt. Find those that need your
help and get them out of jams that they couldn't escape on their own. It's a
war of words and I wage it well. What happened to you? You had aspirations of
becoming a lawyer. We always use to compete in class with each other."
Something came over him and he frowned; reminiscing was a bad idea, nostalgia
was evil, memories were always jaded.
"The games we play, my friend, the games we play." Deveroe let Bryce muddle
that over as they walked deeper into the heart of the station. "There is this
pub tucked into one of those places you can't find unless you know where to
look. Just like the one on that trip to Rencida, remember?"
He chuckled, "Yes, how could I forget? I remember three neon green drinks and
then I remember waking up in a back alley. Took me two and a half days to find
out where I was, how I got there, and how to get back. You always insisted you
never put anything in it." Bryce watched the crowds thin out as they continued
to walk further and further into the bowels of the promenade. The wall
markings changed, the vendors' merchandise warped, and then transcended what it
meant to be dirty.
Eyes darting back and forth silently, Deveroe slipped into a tiny alleyway and
made the ten steps to a service door for one of the interior corridors.
Gravity was a bit lighter here do to the rotation of the station and it eased
his already sinewy steps. Bryce was right behind him, he could feel, though
the man was silent on his feet. Keying open the door, they were inside without
a sound. Two steps further and it was another door, another code. A winding
corridor, then a series of rooms.
They walked into the fourth on the left.
"I have something for you."
"You have something for me? This must be one damn good bar," Bryce stated
through a half smile as he cracked his knuckles out of habit. "Some strong
liquor too, I assume, and it must be the real stuff. Synthehol isn't worth
going this far out of the way."
"Cute." Again that sandpaper voice of mocking amusement.
Bryce heard nothing as his head was pulled back and a knife deftly slid across
his throat.
Through the arterial spray, Deveroe stood stoically. "Don't worry, they'll
find you," he whispered.
The pain was blinding and at the same time calming. His left hand, of course,
flew to his throat out of instinct, but the white light was already taking him
over as he fell to the ground. It was noiseless in his own head. His knees
buckled and hit the floor. The solid deck plating wasn't even cold to the
touch as his face slammed into it. He tasted it in his throat, coughed and
sputtered, lying there gasping for air and finding none.
And as his right hand fell lifeless to the side, the box slipped, landing
silently in front of non-seeing eyes.
Bright and Early For the Daily Races, Going No Where?
Lyryn was on her fourteenth lap around the track when it hit her. In what she
could only compare to feeling as though part of her insides were wrenched from
her unsuspecting body, she stumbled and fell, nearly vomiting on the deck. She
gasped for air, trying to take it in, but her chest barely rose and fell.
Hands and knees dug into the specialized flooring of the track and she was
acutely aware of every movement and sound around her. Slowly, she pushed
herself to her feet, the dizzy sensation being pushed aside. Now that she had
it under control, Lyryn walked the rest the way around the track and grabbed
her things, going back to her quarters.
Something was wrong.
Something was wrong with Tel.
Their Tears Are Filling Up Their Glasses, No Expression?
He read the report again. Three times. Four. The words refused to register
in his brain and he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. How was he going to tell
her? How was she going to react? It was the one aspect of his job that he did
without thinking about it. If he thought about it too much it would start to
mean something - he couldn't let that happen. Without realizing it, Javan
found himself in front of Lissi and Bryce's quarters. He tapped the chime.
"Come in." The words were soft as Lyryn hadn't quite recovered from what had
happened earlier and Elissabeth could still feel the effects. As soon as she
saw the look on Javan's face, she knew something was amiss. "Commander," she
nodded. "Please sit."
The room was low lit and had a somber feel to it already.
"I'd prefer to stand, actually." His words came out more heartless and uncaring
than he expected, but he pushed on. "Commander, there's been an incident on
DS9. I've been assured by Starfleet security that the information I've been
sent is true. It would seem that Bryce wandered off and encountered a, uh,
miscreant."
The words registered and spread numbness throughout her body, but her face
remained passive. "Go on."
"It was ruled a homicide, Commander." Javan bowed his head sharply, not
wanting to make eye contact, "The doctors on the station were unable to revive
him. I'm sorry.?
"I -" A typical stoic response was intended when the flash of pain took her.
Her body seized and she stiffened, falling back on the sofa. Images flashed
between her two memories, her feelings, the dreams. Tel. Bryce. One after
the next after the next until they were layered upon each other like
transparencies of a cross section diagram. Until the outlines matched.
Swirling and spinning, the pictures and the memories came. The feelings. The
impossible ones. Now that her two sides were so closely entwined, she could
see it. No, she could feel it.
And once the realisation hit, the fit was over and she leaned forward to vomit
in the floor.
"Call off the medical team," she croaked and spat the remnants of bile from her
mouth.
?I wouldn?t dare call them,? Javan said, wanting to move but refusing to show
that kind of compassion. "Elissabeth, I know that what you're going through is
a traumatic ordeal, but you have to realize that we have a plan in motion and
we can't back out now. You've still got to go... without him."
Accusing eyes glared at him. "Bryce and Tel were one in the same."
Javan nodded. "Yes, yes they were.?
"Neither of you told me." Cold anger. She had felt Tel die.
"Neither of us felt you needed to know. Besides, he was dealing with two
different personalities as two completely separate identities." Javan moved
towards the door and stopped. "It's a thing of the past, Elissabeth, it's time
that we move on and finish our preparations for your next move. I'm not saying
it won?t be difficult. It's not going to be easy. Not at all."
"Fuck you, Sierra. Fuck both of you."
"And," he said, not turning around, "that's why."
Hide My Head, I Wanna Drown My Sorrow, No Tomorrow?
No matter what she wanted, the grief took her. At first it was nothing but a
disconnected feeling to everyone and everything around her. The room looked
foreign; the belongings weren?t even connected to her in any form or fashion.
It was his watch that did it.
She spied his pocket watch on the desk. It was this antique passed down in the
family apparently, and though he couldn?t wear it with his uniform, Bryce
always kept it around. At least that was the story he told. Of course it was
all made up. But it was just lying there, so? cold? so? alone. She picked it
up.
That?s when the sobs wracked her body and her knees gave out. Sinking into the
carpet, Elissabeth gulped for air as the tears spilled onto her face and hands.
She clawed at the carpet with her free hand in hopes for something else to
hold onto. Anything.
Eventually she slept.
I Find It Hard to Tell You, I Find It Hard to Take?
Her eyes felt glued shut, crusted over with spent grief. She raised her head
and it pounded. Then she became aware of the metal chain pressing into the
palm of her hand. Turning it over, Elissabeth vaguely wondered how long the
imprint would remain there.
Slowly, she pushed herself off the floor, a horrible taste forming in her
mouth. Her rational side was taking charge, and Elissabeth was actually glad
that she wouldn?t have to hurt Bryce like she was hurting now.
?Bryce?? she whispered. ?Tel??
However, she pulled herself together. She wanted to go through his files
before anyone else got to them, just in case there was anything important in
them. She sat at the console and scrolled through, looking for anything out of
place or coded.
Wedding Vows
?Wedding vows?? she asked to the now quiet room. Over-riding and opening the
file, Elissabeth felt as if the breath left her chest when she saw Bryce?s eyes
staring into hers.
"Elissabeth, from the moment I met you so long ago, not a day has gone by when
I haven't thought of you. Each moment is precious, each second is perfect, and
I know that that is the way it will always be. We were meant to walk life
alone until this very point in time when our paths crossed and linked forever.
It is my blessing to have received such a gift from the makers of the universe
and I take pride in knowing I will no longer stride through life alone.
Together we will forge on through the good times and the bad; nothing can stop
our happiness."
?Will that work?? he asked himself on the log. ?I?ve been trying to get these
right for days now,? Bryce sighed and ran his hand through his hair. ?Every
night when she?s asleep? and I haven?t even asked her to marry me yet,? he
chuckled. ?I?m just hoping, well, thinking that-?
?Hey you.?
Elissabeth heard her own voice in the background, just coming through the
bedroom door. Bryce turned to look at her and held out his arms. She saw
herself come into view on the screen and he gently grabbed her, pulling her
down into his lap. She watched herself snuggle into the crevice of his neck,
remembering that night; his touch, his smell.
?What are you still doing up??
?I?ll be in bed soon, I promise.?
?Just couldn?t sleep again? I miss you, you know. I can tell when you?re not
in bed with me and it always wakes me up.?
?I?m sorry, darlin?.? He kissed her sweetly on the mouth and then on the
forehead. ?Let?s go to bed.?
Bryce reached over and switched off the console.
The screen went blank.
The room thundered with silence.
The numbness was back.
The Dreams in Which I?m Dying Are the Best I?ve Ever Had?
It was time.
Elissabeth opened the bedroom door and stood silently watching Javan stare out
the window of her quarters. His pose reminded her so much of Bryce and how
Bryce used to do the very same thing. Her silk nightgown provided little
warmth and she shivered a bit. Bryce had bought it for her - it only seemed
fitting.
"I'm ready," she said softly.
"Once you do this," Javan started, turning and looking at her, "there is no
going back. You take the step into this new world and the one you left behind
ceases to exist. It never happened... Tel never happened. You put it out of
your mind, out of everything you know. It's the way the Section works."
She stared blankly at Javan, wanting to tell him to go and do various things
with his advice, but she kept her mouth shut. She knew all of this. And
nothing would be accomplished by them quarreling about it now. Not especially
since they had both lost someone so special. She nodded slowly, wanting to say
more, but not knowing what to say.
A step towards her meant to be menacing somehow came across as concerned. "The
way I see it is that we'll do what we need to do and I'll leave. When you
don't report for your shift in an hour and a half I'll send someone to go find
you when you don't answer the communications call. It'll all unravel from
there."
"Mostly I just need you to handle the aftermath, Commander." That came across
way too formal for people in their situation. "Javan," she corrected and took
a step towards him. From behind her back, she pulled out the watch and let it
dangle in front of her. "I don't know if this actually has a story or means
something... Bryce - Tel - acted like it did and... well, if it did, you should
have it, I guess."
Javan blinked in surprise, staring at the glimmering gold pocket watch. It was
illuminated merely by the starlight, but it was enough to catch his eye. "Oh
my God," he breathed as he took it in his hand, "it was my father's. Given to
Tel shortly before he 'died'. I'm surprised the Section let him keep it.
You're supposed to sever all ties with your previous self. Thank you."
"Maybe they didn't know," she said softly. They stood in the near darkness
just staring at each other for a moment. She didn't want to talk, but yet, it
seemed appropriate to memorialize him somehow. "He was going to ask me to
marry him."
"I know."
A tiny smile curled up on her mouth. "It would've hurt him when I said no. In
some ways, I'm so glad I didn't break his heart." Her voice was a whisper,
followed by the tiniest trembling of her mouth. "I loved him more than I ever
thought possible."
Javan smiled a genuine smile. "You know, it would've been nice to have a
sister-in-law like you, Lissi. I'm sorry that we didn't get a chance to be
family." There was a pause, a lingering pause that just smelt of death and
loss. He took a breath and folded his arms, "He loved you too. So much that
he risked everything to know all of you."
"I know that now." Another pause. "We may even have gotten to be friends,
Javan. But I'm sure we'll run into each other someday, somewhere. As
different people, no doubt, but we'll know." She stepped forward and wrapped
her arms around his waist, gently laying her head on his chest. It was so much
like Tel that she wanted to sob, but she didn't. Elissabeth was stronger than
that.
It caught him off guard, but he hesitantly placed his hands around her
shoulders and gave her a squeeze. "This never gets easy. I've been on the
Avalon for three years now. The people are my friends and my colleagues. It
never feels right leaving them behind when they have become such an integral
part of your life, but it's the job. And my mission is drawing to a conclusion
too."
"I understand." She did. She wanted to say good bye, leave letters for people
? especially Skyler. And Anna. Even Melanie. But it wasn?t possible. It had
to be a sudden death. The thought was there though. Truly.
She pulled back and walked into the bedroom, knowing Javan would follow her.
Everything was all set up; the correct drug to kill her and the equipment to
filter it back out of her blood once it had done its treacherous work. "It's
going to be a long night for you."
"I've had longer. Part of being an operative."
"And they always said I needed to lighten up," she chuckled weakly. Settling
down under the covers, Elissabeth whispered, "Good bye, Sierra. I'll do my
best to haunt you until they bring me back to life." Though he probably
couldn't see it, she winked at him.
Javan chuckled, sitting down on the bed next to her. "I look forward to it.
You know, he couldn't have done better."
"Thank you. That means a lot." And it did.
Children Waiting For the Day They Feel Good?
Javan wheeled the torpedo casing into the transporter room, drawing a
questioning gaze from the operator. He looked at her for a moment as he ran
his had down the length of the coffin. The slickness of the shell was
astounding; he always liked to see it sliding ever so gracefully into the
afterlife and taking its occupant with it. "I need you to transfer this to the
morgue on Deep Space Nine."
"Sir?" The Ensign fumbled with her PADDs, no doubt looking for an order that
had never come.
"It's right here," the Commander said quickly, placing the correct order in her
hand and then taking a step back. "Commander Marksbury. Ensign, make it a
smooth transport."
There was an awkward moment, settling down as the transporter officer waited
for a sign. Javan didn't want to make it. Things were going according to
plan, but he was suddenly questioning whether or not he had been right to even
let her consider this course of action. She'll never have her own life back,
Javan thought to himself, but what life of her own did she ever really have?
The Ensign stirred again, "Shall I, sir?"
Javan looked up, pulled back to reality. "Yes, go ahead. Make sure that the
medical officer in charge knows that she and Bryce Quinn are to be transferred
to the Dartmouth for transport to Earth."
"Of course, sir."
There was some tapping as the officer did her job. There was a split second
where he wanted to say goodbye, but Javan stepped up, shaking his head, "Wait a
second." There was a pause. He fiddled with the latch on the casing and it
sprang open, her solemn form lying stoically in the gray cushions. "He
would've wanted you to have this."
The chain slid out of his hand, elongating to its true form. Javan grabbed
Lissi's hand, unfolding it and placing the golden pocket watch delicately into
her hands. Silently he closed the hand, closed the casing, and gave the signal
for transport.
Hello Teacher, Tell Me What?s My Lesson?
It was the right time. It was the right console. It was the right pattern.
Javan activated the console, the familiar outline of a man's head appearing on
the screen. The Director. "Mr. Director," Javan started, sitting down in a
sign of respect, "I'm glad to finally hear from you. It's been a long time."
"Your current mission finished?" The blunt reply came.
Javan nodded, "Yes, sir. Two and a half years of waiting followed by six
hellish months of preparation has finally wrapped up. As a matter of fact," he
glanced at the chronometer on the wall above the console, "they are due to come
out for extraction and reawakening in about fifteen minutes."
"So, you managed to get both?"
"Of course," Javan said smugly, "with help from a fellow operative, but it all
worked out in the end, I believe. What is my next mission, Mr. Director?" He
would admit that it was time to move on. He had been yearning for a change of
surroundings for some time and was finally glad to get it.
There was a pause, "It's a recruitment mission."
He wanted to balk, but knew better. A recruiting mission was nothing
spectacular. Perhaps they thought that he had lost his edge. "Who is my
target, sir?"
"Targets, you mean." There was a hint in the voice that was definitely belying
a smile on the other end. "As a matter of fact, you have recently finished
serving with them. They transferred to the USS Omen and it was an omen indeed.
You know the way to contact me when you have completed the task."
Nodding, Javan disconnected the communications channel. Perhaps he wasn't
finished with the Avalon yet.
When People Run in Circles, It?s a Very, Very Mad World?
A constant pressure was the first thing she was aware of. A warmth. A hand,
perhaps?
Too many years of training had led her to be aware.
As the fog began to clear, she lay completely still; feeling, listening,
assessing.
Someone was sitting beside her, holding her hand.
Odd.
The last thing she expected was to wake up feeling comforted.
"Lyryn," a voice said. "Open your eyes."
Her hand was squeezed, the top of it rubbed... then kissed. "Lyryn."
Now wide awake, a smile formed at the corners of her mouth and she opened her
eyes.
Tel.
He grinned at her, warmth and sincerity etched in every tweaked muscle.
"Welcome back."
He kissed her.
And they were complete.
** Section titles and log title taken from the song ?Mad World? off the Donnie
Darko Soundtrack, as performed by Gary Jules and Michael Andrews. **
---------------------------------
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