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Lt. Kiliak Jo - Falling Star


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Bravo very well written!
 
 
 
((g-loc, above Paldor II))
 
*
 

The snowflake tumbled, fluttering a zigzag path down through the air, twirling its halted way toward a quiet destiny among the white banks of snow. With careful planning, she positioned herself just below it, adjusting her legs with each pirouette of the flake, her tongue outstretched and ready.

 
Mother: Jo! The Feast is starting! Come inside!
 
She spun around, almost losing her balance. Her stomach growled. The orange lights coming through the windows of her uncle's farmhouse looked impossibly cozy among the trees and white snows. She offered a short koan of gratitude to the Prophets for her life and family, then began to hurry back, at once tripping and falling face-first in the deep snow, then immediately breaking into laughter.
 
*
 
Brother: Something funny, Jojo?
 
Jo looked up from the tangle of circuits and recycled cables before her and toward the entrance of the dim cellar, cutting her laughter short. She had the feeling all eyes were now on her, she was the youngest Bajoran there.
 
Otti: Relax, Prao. We're just joking.
 
Kiliak: Yeah, we're just joking.
 
Prao: ::scoffing:: Just go home, Jojo. You're always poking around in places you shouldn't be.
 
She knew that he thought he was protecting her, but he was being a jerk and she couldn't stand him right now. He was embarrassing her in front of the rest of the resistance cell. She was old enough to make her own decisions. They needed to stand up. And for that matter, who else but her was going to protect him?
 
Kiliak: Why don't you say that to the Gul instead?
 
Otti: May the Prophets spare us from sibling rivalries. That's enough, both of you two. We can use all hands here, and it's already been agreed the girl can join us. Now, Jo. Are you ready for this? ::that damned, rogueish smile:: Is the bomb finished?
 
*
 
She saw the glowing point of a photon torpedo leave the Atlantis, floating like a falling star toward the deuterium tank. From her perspective, the explosion was completely silent, and she shielded her eyes against the beautiful, quavering firework bloom that buoyantly lifted up the falling station.
 
*
 
A blue flare went up from the other side of the spaceport.
 
Otti: That's our signal, it should distract the Cardassians. Time for us to move. The fuel refinery is just there, on the near side. Do you see it?
 
Kiliak wiped the condensation from her breathing mask, then pushed away a drooping fern. She looked through her scope. She tracked the Cardassians guarding the parapet above the refinery, and again she cursed the irony that They didn't require masks to breathe on the surface of Kassäla, a moon colony which the Bajorans had made all of the effort to settle. It wasn't fair. Many things were not fair. A seven-limbed Krinnilak hung from a branch above her with three arms and a silly grin, its beady eyes framed by tufts of orange hair, watching the three of them with great curiousity, small eyes framed by orange tufts of hair.
 
Prao: Let's move.  Stay low.
 
*
 
Otti dipped the nose forward, ducking below another passing asteroid, then smoothly eased back on the flightstick. As the ship rolled, the distant sun broke through a hole in the nebula clouds, illuminating the [...]pit in a shock of violet. Kiliak placed a hand on his shoulder, her other held a steaming mug of Deka.
 
Kiliak: It's so beautiful out here.
 
Otti reached up with his free hand, then placed it over her's.
 
*
 
The hand on the gavel came slamming down. The room sat.
 
Magister: For crimes against the Gul of Kassäla, for the charge of arson, for the heinous murder of innocent Cardassians and the unexpected death of Bajorans including a member of the accused's own family, this court intends to deliver a sentence of indefinite imprisonment. ::Gavel:: This trial begins now. Kiliak Jo, on what grounds do you plead guilty?
 
*
 
Kiliak's hands, opening the doors of a golden case. Inside, the Orb of the Prophets shines. It is too bright to believe. For a moment, she is terrified. It draws her in. 
 
*
 
Two humanoid creatures, one much larger than the other, stand upon the wooded ridgetop and look up to the sky. The visitors, who normally keep to their own affairs in the distant city, are up to something most unusual. They can smell it on the wind, the early migration of the herds, the ground grumbles in her the language of her own reluctance. Above, strange bodies are burning the heavens. The small one coos and points at the sight of a falling star, the tall one watches silently as one of their silver chariots dives through the ringed clouds to catch the lost piece of the sky like the mighty bird of prey fishes in the great sea.
 
*
 
A man in Black, his face long and grim and turning away, his hand holding a suitcase, he passes before a window, only glancing at the planet below.
 
*
 
Prao: Wait. Change of plans. ::Holding one finger to his ear.::
 
They were in the tunnels, less than two hundred meters from the fuel refinery now, ducked down behind an electrical transformer before moving to the next door.
 
Otti: I don't like the sound of that.
 
Prao: We've just gotten a tip that a transport is arriving at the spacepad here within the hour. The Gul is on that transport. New target.
 
Kiliak: That's... that's different! I didn't agree to blowing up a transport when I built this for us!
 
Otti: I agree with the girl. It's bad luck to change a plan in the middle of carrying it out. And we don't know who else is on that transport.
 
Prao: Listen. We don't get a shot like this every day. We're talking about Gul Multak. We have to try. For justice, for every Bajoran on Kassäla. An infrastructure run on the refinery, it's nothing in comparison. C'mon. You know I'm right.
 
Otti: ...Damn it. He is right.
 
Kiliak: How far is the spacepad?
 
*
 
The white corridor has countless doors. She is running. She stops suddenly, turns to open one of the doors. A green-eyed Vulcan turns from his mirror and screams.  
 
*
 
The eyes of Dr. Magnesium are watching her
 
*
 
Doctors around the table are frantically attempting to save a Bajoran woman's life. She looks just like her.
 
*
 
Fire.
 
The burning heat. They pushed through the smoke and the flames. Something had gone horribly wrong. The explosive. It happened too soon. Low under the smoke, Kiliak spotted a bit of clothing under the rubble and chaos. She choked on her breath under the mask.
 
Kiliak: No...
 
She turned the corner and made out a pantleg. Then a whole leg. It was him. But among the mess, he was too far to reach.
 
Kiliak: ::through tears:: No. No. How did this happen?
 
Voice: ::flashlights in the smoke:: Keep searching! They're in here somewhere!
 
Prao: ...Jojo...
 
Kiliak: Prao! :a hand outstretched:: I'm so sorry. This is my fault.
 
Otti: ::a hand on her shoulder:: Jo! We have to go! Now!
 
Kiliak: I can't just leave him! No! I won't leave my brother here! ::Sobbing::
 
Otti: Stop it! There is nothing we can do! They will find us! We have to go! ::pulling her hand::
 
Kiliak: ::only a scream:: NO!!
 
Voice: There! I hear them! Spread out, advance on the terrorists! ::blaster fire through the smoke::
 
Otti: Prophets damn you! We are not staying here just to die. Take my hand.
 
*
 
The Prophets are waiting for me. They will greet me on the golden shore of an endless sea. We will alight as winged birds and soar over the forests of green.
 
*
 
A heaviness and a lightening. A quickening. The infinite black stretching longer in every direction. The evaporation of time. The thinning of comprehension. A celestial spirit rising away, leaving hollow. And... but wait... something else...
 
*
 
Lieutenant, can you hear me?
 
Kiliak: Wha? I... the Prophets...
 
Her body, heavy. Hot. No, chilled with sweat. Ice cold. Hot again in the exosuit. Something cool on her forehead. Breathing in, an effort. Now, an exhale and... rest...
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