The following takes place in 2337...
* * * * *
Xehn Ra-Vadii had lost count of how many times they’d landed over the last two years, despite the routine operation all of the crew, his crew, manned their stations—making it one of the rare times he sat in the command chair at the rear of the flight deck. Since he’d bought the Javelin at auction (her previous owner having missed too many payments), he had managed to pull together a small crew that he could be proud of, one Vyn would’ve approved of—
He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly, to clear the train of thought, from the first time he powered up the Javelin’s he’d vowed to keep his memories of her for when he wasn’t working, lest they overwhelm him. On the whole, he managed it, but there were times his resolve slipped ever so slightly—even though everything he’d done, even buying the Ju’day-Class ship itself, had been what they’d dreamt of doing together.
Soon, he told himself. Once they were on the ground then he could allow himself to remember her all he wanted, but he had plenty to focus on before then.
Through the viewports, the clouds disappeared as the little ship descended through the stratosphere and the surface became visible. Nibiru colony was small, her population was only around five thousand, and had only broken ground six months ago, despite her size and youth the colonists were hard workers and had made an impressive settlement. It was astounding what people could do when they were working on something they truly cared about. The people who had chosen to establish Nibiru had done so without any support from the Federation Colony Administration, all of them wanting to get out from under the bureaucracy of the Federation and away from the interference of Starfleet. The sheer dogged determination of the idealistic pioneers had been what had made Ra-Vadii agree to help them.
The colony itself was located on a lush grassy plain, near the shore of a vast turquoise ocean to the east and a snow-capped mountain range to the west. Several rivers ran from the mountains to the sea, whilst lakes and dense forests were visible in the distance. In a word, idyllic. It even made a life-long spacer like him almost consider building his own cabin, almost.
“It looks like they’ve finally got the navigational beacon working,” commented Nizani Laen.
“Yeah, because it’s so hard to find a place to park here,” Kebolan M’Raur retorted, using a paw to gesture at the great expanse of empty ground. Though the colonists had managed to build a lot in six months, a spaceport wasn’t among them.
Ra-Vadii chuckled at his navigator and helmsman. In all the time he’d known them, the good natured bickering was just how they were. When he’d gone into business for himself, Ra-Vadii had managed to recruit a few of the best people he’d worked with over his varied career. Laen and M’Raur had been the flight control team on the survey ship Orpheus when he’d been second mate, and they’d always impressed him—M’Raur for his near-instant reaction speed and Laen for her skills as a navigator and cartographer, not to mention her knack with computers.
“Do I have to separate you two?” interject Reiko Kaneda his first mate, strong right hand, and dear friend—she’d also been the one to introduce him and Vyn. Her tone was level but Ra-Vadii could see the mirth in her hazelnut eyes.
“I was just saying,” M’Raur muttered.
“It still amazes me you two aren’t married, the way you carry on,” Jayden Mitchell joined in, turning away from the weapons station. “Or maybe that’s the problem, repressed desire?”
Kaneda burst out laughing, as the pair in question both glowered back at Mitchell.
“Please,” Laen almost spat out, “I’m not that desperate!”
“Thanks…wait,” M’Raur began, looking from Mitchell to Laen.
“I hate to be a drag,” he interrupted his crew, with faked cheer, “but the ground is rushing towards us, so maybe you can pick this up once you’re not about to crash my ship.”
“Sorry Skip.” M’Raur turned back to his controls, his ears flattening. The Caitians inherent mannerisms made him a terrible poker player.
Despite being the ship’s owner and master, Ra-Vadii was never comfortable with titles, ‘captain’ among them. Most of his crew simply called him Xehn, though there were a few that went with ‘skipper’ or ‘skip’ or, in the case of Aryna Hagal, his chief engineer, ‘boss’.
Thanks to M’Raur’s light touch, the Javelin landed on the firm grassy ground on the outskirts of the settlement without so much as a thud. As the crew went about powering down systems and securing their stations, Ra-Vadii slipped out quietly, knowing that Kaneda would be able to take care of all the odd jobs that needed done as they enjoyed a couple week planetside. He had something more pressing to see too.
From the cockpit, he descended the stairs to his cabin. Since Ju’day-Class ships were compact, only sixty meters in length and three decks tall, they weren’t equipped with turbolifts so stairs and ladders allowed the crew to get between the levels.
Once inside his quarters, he opened one of the drawers under his bed. Hands trembling, he reach in and gently lifted out what he’d come for. He took a moment to look down at the smooth, grey cuboid in his hands, slightly shorter than his forearm, with a small control panel on the top and a delicately carved inscription on the front panel. He traced the carving with his thumb, as he did so often.
He put the container in a shoulder bag and slung it across his chest. Stepping back into the narrow corridor and headed aft, luckily he didn’t meet anyone as he wasn’t in much of a mood for trying to make small talk. He entered the cargo bay, which was stocked with only the supplies they might need, and opened the entry hatch before climbing on one of the three hoverbikes they carried. It lifted up off the deck and with a slight twist of the throttle he was moving.
Down the ramp, he turned away from the settlement and accelerated. The wind whipped his long platinum blond hair away from his face. There was a chill to the air, which had a delicate peaty smell mixed with native grasses, flowers and trees—scents completely new though a few did seem vaguely familiar, like lavender and vanilla.
Ra-Vadii didn’t have far to go, a small hill that was only a couple of kilometres from the colony, rising up one hundred and fifteen meters, it was the only blip on the otherwise flat plains and overlooked compared to the jagged mountains in the not-too-far distance. He stopped the bike just twenty meters from the summit, silencing the loudest noise as he switched the engine off, and walked the rest of the way. Above him native birds effortlessly glided, chattering among themselves.
From his elevation he could look down over the plains, which had yet to be named, where a pack of indigenous herbivores grazed warily (the noise of his bike had unnerved them), and then to Nibiru colony. There was a small cluster of buildings, including the admin centre, stores, hospital, school, and houses, which spread out to more dwellings as well as the power station, recycling and manufacturing plants, and warehouses. Almost three-fifths of the population lived within a few square kilometres of one another, whilst further afield the others had already set up farms and homesteads, taking advantage of the fertile soil and growing their own crops—one of the colony’s desires was to be as self-sufficient as possible. The settlers had all taken the journey, three months away of Federation space, in order to be independent.
Vyn would’ve approved, just as she would’ve loved the planet. Though she’d been born planetside, her heart had always been in space, though she too would have thought twice after setting foot on this new world.
He took the container from the bag and held it again, cradling it in one arm. His free hand rested on the front panel as he closed his welling eyes and said a silent prayer. Unconsciously, his fingers traced the lettering again, the delicate swirls and loops, arranged in a vertical line, were a name and two dates—the day his beloved was born and the day she was taken from him. Two years ago today.
Ra-Vadii opened his eyes to see his tears had collected in her engraved name: T’Vyn.
He wiped them away. “I miss you,” he said to the metal box, clutching it to his chest.
Once they had married, Vyn’s very conservative family had disowned her, as she had broken their traditions and turned her back on the arranged marriage they had planned for her. People who said Vulcan’s didn’t have emotions clearly didn’t know any. Vyn had been kind and loving, an adventurer and a dreamer who he would’ve done anything for. Losing her had almost destroyed him. Though he had mourned for her but it was still raw, the wound had yet to become a scar and was a long way from fading.
He tapped the controls, opening the front panel. As her only real family, after her body had been recovered he had her remains cremated. Since then, her stasis container had gone everywhere with him, but now it was time to give her somewhere peaceful and beautiful to rest. Holding it up, he gave a slight shake and as her ashes fluttered from the container the breeze took and scattered them.
As the sun touched the horizon, he watched as the remains of his wife blew over the plains. Though she had never visited the remote world, it symbolised who she’d been, adventurous, independent, hopeful, all the things he had loved about her.
* * * * *
END
* * * * *
Xehn Ra-Vadii had lost count of how many times they’d landed over the last two years, despite the routine operation all of the crew, his crew, manned their stations—making it one of the rare times he sat in the command chair at the rear of the flight deck. Since he’d bought the Javelin at auction (her previous owner having missed too many payments), he had managed to pull together a small crew that he could be proud of, one Vyn would’ve approved of—
He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly, to clear the train of thought, from the first time he powered up the Javelin’s he’d vowed to keep his memories of her for when he wasn’t working, lest they overwhelm him. On the whole, he managed it, but there were times his resolve slipped ever so slightly—even though everything he’d done, even buying the Ju’day-Class ship itself, had been what they’d dreamt of doing together.
Soon, he told himself. Once they were on the ground then he could allow himself to remember her all he wanted, but he had plenty to focus on before then.
Through the viewports, the clouds disappeared as the little ship descended through the stratosphere and the surface became visible. Nibiru colony was small, her population was only around five thousand, and had only broken ground six months ago, despite her size and youth the colonists were hard workers and had made an impressive settlement. It was astounding what people could do when they were working on something they truly cared about. The people who had chosen to establish Nibiru had done so without any support from the Federation Colony Administration, all of them wanting to get out from under the bureaucracy of the Federation and away from the interference of Starfleet. The sheer dogged determination of the idealistic pioneers had been what had made Ra-Vadii agree to help them.
The colony itself was located on a lush grassy plain, near the shore of a vast turquoise ocean to the east and a snow-capped mountain range to the west. Several rivers ran from the mountains to the sea, whilst lakes and dense forests were visible in the distance. In a word, idyllic. It even made a life-long spacer like him almost consider building his own cabin, almost.
“It looks like they’ve finally got the navigational beacon working,” commented Nizani Laen.
“Yeah, because it’s so hard to find a place to park here,” Kebolan M’Raur retorted, using a paw to gesture at the great expanse of empty ground. Though the colonists had managed to build a lot in six months, a spaceport wasn’t among them.
Ra-Vadii chuckled at his navigator and helmsman. In all the time he’d known them, the good natured bickering was just how they were. When he’d gone into business for himself, Ra-Vadii had managed to recruit a few of the best people he’d worked with over his varied career. Laen and M’Raur had been the flight control team on the survey ship Orpheus when he’d been second mate, and they’d always impressed him—M’Raur for his near-instant reaction speed and Laen for her skills as a navigator and cartographer, not to mention her knack with computers.
“Do I have to separate you two?” interject Reiko Kaneda his first mate, strong right hand, and dear friend—she’d also been the one to introduce him and Vyn. Her tone was level but Ra-Vadii could see the mirth in her hazelnut eyes.
“I was just saying,” M’Raur muttered.
“It still amazes me you two aren’t married, the way you carry on,” Jayden Mitchell joined in, turning away from the weapons station. “Or maybe that’s the problem, repressed desire?”
Kaneda burst out laughing, as the pair in question both glowered back at Mitchell.
“Please,” Laen almost spat out, “I’m not that desperate!”
“Thanks…wait,” M’Raur began, looking from Mitchell to Laen.
“I hate to be a drag,” he interrupted his crew, with faked cheer, “but the ground is rushing towards us, so maybe you can pick this up once you’re not about to crash my ship.”
“Sorry Skip.” M’Raur turned back to his controls, his ears flattening. The Caitians inherent mannerisms made him a terrible poker player.
Despite being the ship’s owner and master, Ra-Vadii was never comfortable with titles, ‘captain’ among them. Most of his crew simply called him Xehn, though there were a few that went with ‘skipper’ or ‘skip’ or, in the case of Aryna Hagal, his chief engineer, ‘boss’.
Thanks to M’Raur’s light touch, the Javelin landed on the firm grassy ground on the outskirts of the settlement without so much as a thud. As the crew went about powering down systems and securing their stations, Ra-Vadii slipped out quietly, knowing that Kaneda would be able to take care of all the odd jobs that needed done as they enjoyed a couple week planetside. He had something more pressing to see too.
From the cockpit, he descended the stairs to his cabin. Since Ju’day-Class ships were compact, only sixty meters in length and three decks tall, they weren’t equipped with turbolifts so stairs and ladders allowed the crew to get between the levels.
Once inside his quarters, he opened one of the drawers under his bed. Hands trembling, he reach in and gently lifted out what he’d come for. He took a moment to look down at the smooth, grey cuboid in his hands, slightly shorter than his forearm, with a small control panel on the top and a delicately carved inscription on the front panel. He traced the carving with his thumb, as he did so often.
He put the container in a shoulder bag and slung it across his chest. Stepping back into the narrow corridor and headed aft, luckily he didn’t meet anyone as he wasn’t in much of a mood for trying to make small talk. He entered the cargo bay, which was stocked with only the supplies they might need, and opened the entry hatch before climbing on one of the three hoverbikes they carried. It lifted up off the deck and with a slight twist of the throttle he was moving.
Down the ramp, he turned away from the settlement and accelerated. The wind whipped his long platinum blond hair away from his face. There was a chill to the air, which had a delicate peaty smell mixed with native grasses, flowers and trees—scents completely new though a few did seem vaguely familiar, like lavender and vanilla.
Ra-Vadii didn’t have far to go, a small hill that was only a couple of kilometres from the colony, rising up one hundred and fifteen meters, it was the only blip on the otherwise flat plains and overlooked compared to the jagged mountains in the not-too-far distance. He stopped the bike just twenty meters from the summit, silencing the loudest noise as he switched the engine off, and walked the rest of the way. Above him native birds effortlessly glided, chattering among themselves.
From his elevation he could look down over the plains, which had yet to be named, where a pack of indigenous herbivores grazed warily (the noise of his bike had unnerved them), and then to Nibiru colony. There was a small cluster of buildings, including the admin centre, stores, hospital, school, and houses, which spread out to more dwellings as well as the power station, recycling and manufacturing plants, and warehouses. Almost three-fifths of the population lived within a few square kilometres of one another, whilst further afield the others had already set up farms and homesteads, taking advantage of the fertile soil and growing their own crops—one of the colony’s desires was to be as self-sufficient as possible. The settlers had all taken the journey, three months away of Federation space, in order to be independent.
Vyn would’ve approved, just as she would’ve loved the planet. Though she’d been born planetside, her heart had always been in space, though she too would have thought twice after setting foot on this new world.
He took the container from the bag and held it again, cradling it in one arm. His free hand rested on the front panel as he closed his welling eyes and said a silent prayer. Unconsciously, his fingers traced the lettering again, the delicate swirls and loops, arranged in a vertical line, were a name and two dates—the day his beloved was born and the day she was taken from him. Two years ago today.
Ra-Vadii opened his eyes to see his tears had collected in her engraved name: T’Vyn.
He wiped them away. “I miss you,” he said to the metal box, clutching it to his chest.
Once they had married, Vyn’s very conservative family had disowned her, as she had broken their traditions and turned her back on the arranged marriage they had planned for her. People who said Vulcan’s didn’t have emotions clearly didn’t know any. Vyn had been kind and loving, an adventurer and a dreamer who he would’ve done anything for. Losing her had almost destroyed him. Though he had mourned for her but it was still raw, the wound had yet to become a scar and was a long way from fading.
He tapped the controls, opening the front panel. As her only real family, after her body had been recovered he had her remains cremated. Since then, her stasis container had gone everywhere with him, but now it was time to give her somewhere peaceful and beautiful to rest. Holding it up, he gave a slight shake and as her ashes fluttered from the container the breeze took and scattered them.
As the sun touched the horizon, he watched as the remains of his wife blew over the plains. Though she had never visited the remote world, it symbolised who she’d been, adventurous, independent, hopeful, all the things he had loved about her.
* * * * *
END
