Julia Harden

a cycle of events by Julia Harden The shuttle left Risa on the morning of 237906.05 heading for SB13 where Ruth would be met the following day and would resume her life and career as the Chief Medical Officer on board the USS Forsaken. Engaged to be married, she’d wanted to stay on Risa with John the extra day but the shuttle wasn’t going to be there the next day. So she said goodbye and sadly climbed aboard. John stood there at the doorway of the shuttle bay, his smile plastered on his face tricking himself into thinking of their next meeting. 3.25 hours later, the shuttle lost all power. It was slammed against the gravity of Caligula; it spiraled through the atmosphere and came to a shattering stop on the outskirts of Antonia City. Because it was a small planet with a gaseous envelope of air around it and the envelope being a mere 560 kilometers deep, the shuttle maintained its configuration, only losing little more than the outermost hull. There were no survivors. That is, none reported. Starfleet recovered the six bodies and informed the bereaved of the deaths of their loved ones within the following 8 hours. John was inconsolable. His teammates tried, the captain made him take three days off and he was sentenced to six sessions with the counselor within those days. ^^^^ Three years had passed and still John couldn’t reconcile himself to the death of his fiancée. The ache in his heart went deep; a chunk had been torn viciously out of it leaving a gapping hole. Their plans of marriage, of children, had been tossed aside as if they had no meaning. John picked up the mug of Blood Wine the waiter set in from of him then handed over the proper amount in payment [just enough, no more]. Sitting at the doorway of Galal’s bar, John sipped the Wine watching the promenade fill up with the crew of his ship as they were released from their duty. His eyes crept from one person to another. Crew that he knew and crew that he didn’t. Beings from the station, aliens from throughout the galaxies. He had taken one lover through the years. She didn’t last long because he was unable to make her take the place of his true love. She’d looked like Ruth, she’d even used the same scented soap he bought for her. John shook the thoughts from his mind. He didn’t need to be thinking of her or of Ruth. He took a long draught of his wine. The mug fell from John’s fingers, unseen and unheeded. He stood, his feet moving forward, lurching, faltering as he stared at her. His feet were getting in his way. Ruth had walked sedately along the avenue of shops, a tall and slender 23 year old. Smiling, the young lady leaned forward to stare intently at a dress made of a shimmering blue, almost the color of his eyes. Her mind was momentarily diverted from him then brought back like a winged creature. She saw his face, his lieutenant’s uniform, the gold collar of security. Sighing, she turned from the window to see her soul mate coming toward her. But now he wore a Lt. Commander’s pips and the red of command. Her dark auburn hair spilled forward, sliding over her shoulders in a cascade of warmth. “Ruth?” he whispered half in hope, half in despair. Ruth took in the face of her love, lost to her when she’d died. “Yes, John,” she whispered back. Emotions encircled her. Her lungs lost the capacity to breathe. Tears sparkling in her eyes, she held them back. She would cry but not here, not now. The newly promoted Lt. Commander swallowed hard, his breath catching in his throat, his heart skipping then speeding up in tachycardia. Ruth grabbed at his arm, steadying him. Her eyes softened, her voice taking on a huskiness as her own emotions held her entranced. “Sit... I’ve got to sit down,” John managed to say haltingly. “Ruth? Are you really Ruth?” “Yes, John,” she said again, this time with more force, more in control of herself. “Over there is a bench. I need to tell you what happened.” John was nodding, his sight still on the woman he loved and had never replaced. His Ruth who had died before they could began their life together. Was this a second chance? Tears blurred his vision. They sat, Ruth entwining her fingers on her lap; squeezing, releasing. John turned in the seat so he could place his arm on the back of the bench. He held tightly onto his knee with his other hand, afraid to believe yet knowing he was awake and this was, in fact, real. “The whole thing was an experiment, John,” she began. “My memories were harvested with my DNA. While Starfleet was deploying a recovery team, the Caligulan’s were extracting whatever cells they could without the missing cellule being noticed. Of course, not all of them were useful.” She looked up through her long dark lashes, “Can you believe that I’ve come back? That I never really died at all?” John blinked rapidly. His tears had dried in their nexus creating a grittiness that he dare not wipe away for fear she would be gone from him again. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her with the passion of a man that had been too long without. ^^^ “You’re a clone,” he said flatly. She nodded at his back, unobserved. “How can I accept a clone?” he muttered it without looking at her. “There are differences, small, but differences. I wanted you back so bad. And now that you’re here, I can’t... I just can’t...” His voice stopped with a hitch. He stumbled to his feet, those same feet that took him across the promenade to her. Ruth lay under the coverlet, her hair splaying over the pillow still indented with his shape. Wetness spilled from her eyes, falling into the hollow he’d left behind. She blinked quickly and gazed at the back of his neck, at his hairline, his upper arm; the scar on his shoulder was unfamiliar to her. Did he have the scar before? Or was it new? She didn’t know. He was correct. There were subtle differences; lapses in her memories. She didn’t remember the touch and feel of him. She only remembered vague hours on Risa. The most precious time of her life and she couldn’t recall all of it. John didn't look back. He wobbled his way into the small bathroom to shower and dress. He left her there in bed, oblivious of her tears and the heartbreak he caused. She curled into the fetal position, hugging his pillow as she sobbed. ^^^ John stood in his quarters on the ship, three rooms that were big enough for two. His gaze wandered to the window overlooking the skeletal frame of drydock. He felt as if his breathing had stopped. It was good that he hadn’t brought her onto the ship. Good that they’d spent their time together on the base. There would be only his hopes and prayers in these rooms. His head fell forward. He had lost her, found her and now she was gone again. Would he regret these last hours when he had so heavily walked away from her? John sat at the personal computer then dropped his head in his hands. END

This topic is for Mr. Carmody's first entry.

Congrats, Nemitor. Nerreht, there should have been a Third Place just for this challenge. I'm thankful for the runner-up spot but I dont' think I deserved it this time.

Very good stories. Guess I'll have to win the old fashioned way: Beauty. Really good stories. I don't envy the judges this time.

Winner by default.... I woulda taken it , too.

I've spent two months trying to figure out how to write a first contact. From the human's point of view or the alien's? Last night, I woke to discover a notion running through my head in the guise of a complete story (as usual). I do my best work in the middle of the night. I hope you all enjoy it. Even if there's no decision because I'm the only entry, I hope you enjoy. I did have a bit of fun writing it.

THE LAST CONTACT by Julia Harden He didn’t care one way or the other. This planet, that planet. What did it matter? They’d been watching both for over a century. That small one was interesting but he couldn’t focus on it for any length of time. They’d been out here too long. A decision had to be made and he had to do it. His job. Marion came into the room and sat next to him. “Grei, which one? We’re all waiting.” He shrugged, almost telling her he didn’t care. But he couldn’t do that. They mustn’t know that he’d lost all interest. Forcing himself to stand, Grei muttered, “Earth.” Why not? he asked himself. They had three of them in the hold screaming what served them as lungs out. Lungs. Pitiful things. He shuffled his way to his desk. He wanted to go home. Marion was sweet, kind. She served him and he served her wants to be important. Earth. What a sorry planet. They had all but destroyed themselves. What did they have to be chosen for? Grei left his office/personal rooms and made his way to the cargo hold. Best to send these humans back to their planet first. They could say truthfully that they’d never really harmed any of them. The Arecibo with his large head and small body reached the hold. Grei signaled the scientists to finish their bio-genetic experiments. He watched the probes, wires, and squingies being removed. Always the screaming. When it was done, he congratulated himself once again that he’d stayed and withstood the moans made when all the necessary connections were taken from the human orifices. Not all of the Arecibo could tolerate those bellowing sounds. Their small, slotted ears were highly sensitive. The humans were given sedatives now so they would sleep while being mercifully teleported back to their homes. The parts taken away from them would be stored for the trip to the home world for further analysis. ~~~ When Marion found him soaking in a vat of brine, she gasped. “When did you start bathing?” she asked cautiously. “Nunya,” he answered. His tone was sad, tired. His large eyes had closed, the pin[...]s of his nostrils shut tight over his small mouth. He didn't want to see her. Not today. Later those humans would began the next phase of their journey into space and he was there to witness it. And then he could go home. He was already wanting Marion to be a memory. “I told the council what you said,” Marion continued, “about it being Earth. Vada thought it should be Tommaso. He tried to argue with me but I told him it was your decision and he shut up.” Grei’s head moved up and down. Marion continued talking, taking Grei’s nod as a sign she could keep on talking. He didn’t care. Maybe he should have said Tommaso. They hadn’t almost blown themselves away with their petty wars. But they didn’t have satellites in orbit, either. The only thing that Earth had on its side was the effort they’re put into space flight. He’d known all along that Earth would be the planet they would make contact with. Now, why couldn’t he have told himself that? Grei climbed wearily out of the vat. Walking through the ship, his small feet silent on the metal deck, Grei returned to his rooms. “The human’s are sending another ship into space,” Zeta told him from the doorway. Grei nodded his head up and down in response. He must go and watch this. But he was so very tired. Too much time had passed. If only it was done and then he could go home. ~~~ Later, much later, Grei sat in the red chair that was his to sit in when in the control pit. The space ship, so primitive!, was hurtling through space. He suddenly gripped the arms of his chair and sat upright. The ship had made some kind of adjustment to their power and was streaking across the sky too fast to have seen the Arecibo waiting for them. “Warp,” he whispered. Then he spoke louder, “They have succeeded in attaining warp speed. Now we must join them on the planet’s surface. Welcome them to space exploration. Marion will do it. I’m too tired,” he finished softly. Marion moved to Grei’s side. “You mean it? I get to make the first contact with these creatures?” “Yes,” Grei intoned. “I will get the ship ready for the return journey home. We are finished here.” Marion’s small mouth was grinning as broadly as it could. She left Grei to make herself and her contingent ready for their landing. Grei would watch from the view port. She didn’t want him there to interfere anyway. He moved back to his rooms and laid on his small bed. Lifting one long arm, he placed it over his large oval eyes. He would sleep now, perhaps to dream. A dream of his home. He was so very tired. END

Salak, you've just given me a headache. I really did not like the Xindi plot. At all.

Well, we've got about a week left. I have my story sorta, kinda thought out. Got to put it in the computer and then flesh it out a lot. Think I can get it down by the 22nd? *heads nodding furiously* Okay. Better get typing....

In answer, No I did not. It didn't occur to me that any of you live anywhere other than Colorado, USA at the time I was writing the reviews. *how dumb is that?* Anyway, sorry for that spelling comment. This was my first shot at reviewing stories and although I did read through past reviews, there are gobs and gobs of things I would change now... after the fact. Congrats to everyone and let me say that I enjoy reading every single story that's entered in all the challenges. And good luck on the next one...

Good stories, all. This is going to be a tough one. I expected more entries but after careful thought... I still expected more entries.

You've whetted my interest....

I really wish I could write for this one. The stories so far have given me loads of ideas!

I must say that the criticisms were a bit more on the criticize side than the constructive side this time around. Watch that for next time, judges. Enough. Toni, I was enthralled with your story. The ending made me sit back and go, "WOW". Just wanted to say it in public. I didn't think it would be a story that the majority of people would enjoy, however. The concept was reflective... Is that the word I want? Introspective maybe? I thought for sure you, David or Ben would win. Since I can't join the challenge this next month, do me proud, guys!!

As always, write about what you know. What do you pretend to be in RL? Maybe you're so satisfied with yourself that you don't pretend anything. Like you really do live on a starshp.... Thanks, David Cody! *deep bow*

Thanks Xoet! Good luck to everyone for the next challenge. Too bad I can't join in.

Thanks, Ben. Congrats to you, too! Boy, what a surprise! So many, many good stories. I figured for certain I wouldn't win and didn't think to check back. Great job, all of you!

The Window My fingers were digging into my hips, the tips gripping in tight self control. The only thought flying around my mind was to maintain a calm voice. Our orders had been clear: Find The Window, study it, send back a full report. I was in charge. It wouldn’t do for me to lose my temper. And the only way I'd ever defused a situation was with humor. Kedon was yelling in his fury, “I don’t care that you’re a commander! I don’t even care that you’re the only officer on this planet! You get me?” Keeping my voice soft, I said gently, “I didn’t know a Bajoran’s nose ridges could pucker up like that.” My lips twitched with laughter as soon as I'd said it. That was funnier than I'd thought it would be. Kedon kicked a rock then limped to another and sat down, rubbing his toes. “You’re infuriating,” he said, without the former anger. “Dull or sharp pain?” I asked. “Dull. It’s not broke. Give me about ten minutes. I’ll be fine.” I nodded then sat next to him. “We’re expendable, Julia,” he commented as he gently took off his shoe. It was hot and the converted environmental suits didn't help much. Converted to allow us to move easily without being contained. Air conditioning stripes ran vertical down the length of the suit to our boots. There was no helmet as that might impair our vision. Again I nodded. “We’ll get the answer they want and if we don’t survive, they’ll have their information anyway. But that's Star Fleet. We knew it coming in." He glanced over at me and I knew he was judging my reactions. "I'm not Star Fleet, Julia. I'm a scientist they tapped for this mission." Deliberately, I looked ahead of me at orange rocks and yellow skies. I laughed. “Kedon, I was born on a starship, you know? I always thought I’d die on one.” Kedon ignored my statements. “My foot’s fine. You ready?” he asked. I put my hands on my knees to push myself to my feet and in the process, I looked at my hands. They were soft, a doctor’s hands. Sensitive and kind. Maybe that was part of the reason I could never really get angry at Kedon. As much as he irritated me at times. Through classes in med school and parties on various beaches, we'd gotten to know each other. I hated having him here with me where either one of us could die. I couldn't think of Kedon dying. I just couldn't. Kedon reached over and took hold of my fingers. “Let’s get this done. The commodore will be here to beam us back to the ship in about 45 minutes.” Kedon helped me pick up a small container filled with medical instruments. I’d do the testing while Kedon took electrical readings. A Window had been recorded hovering over this class N planet. Three teams of scientists had been beamed down to study it. All (almost all) had returned with the same story. As they moved close, the window had moved away. After several attempts to approach it, two of the scientists had been able to walk right up to it. They’d sent back strange readings, determined that they could find out more by walking through it and that was the last anyone had seen of them. So here we were, a civilian Bajoran scientist living and working on DS47 and me, Dr. Julia Harden, of the USS Victory. The captain wasn’t keen on my participation in this investigation but she was a captain in Star Fleet. So she’d given me the order and told me to return. That had been an order, too. Then there it was... The Window. It floated in the air about two meters off the ground. We ran forward to crouch behind a rounded boulder. The Window seemed to have seen us because it turned, moving slowly in our direction. “How could it see us?” I asked softly, “but I get the impression it did.” Kedon shrugged but didn’t speak. My tricorder was off the charts, as they say. “Getting anything?” I asked. Kedon showed me the MultiMate. The sensors were going crazy. I didn’t understand it but it looked impressive. The Window stopped moving and hung a half meter away from us. I took a chance and peered over the boulder directly into The Window pane. On the other side was an old man sitting at a kitchen table. He was cradling a cup of hot tea, the tag hanging down the side. His elbows were set comfortably on the table as though sculpted there. Beyond him, I could see a doorway and several people milling about. I stood up, placing my hand on Kedon’s shoulder. I glanced at him knowing instantly that he was seeing into The Window also. “What do you see, Julia?” he asked quietly. “A man drinking tea. You?” My voice was just as quiet as his. The Window hung out there, not moving, the figures and objects becoming clearer. I hadn’t known they were indistinct until that moment. With my noticing, The Window moved closer. The old man set his tea cup down, moving his hand, revealing the Star Fleet communicator on his chest. I gasped. Kedon grabbed my wrist as the man got slowly to his feet. His shirt was open from the top two buttons and it wasn’t a Star Fleet uniform. I would have recognized one immediately. Two women walked through the doorway behind him. The three of them stood near the table and gestured to us. As I watched the people beckon at us, Kedon crossed in front of me. The man at the table stood, obviously old or in bad physical health as he leaned tiredly on the table for a while. Gathering strength from somewhere within himself, he shuffled to the window pane and pulled/pushed it open. They all looked human. Kedon walked as in a dream to the window. He started to put his leg up and over the sill. The people inside rushed forward, their arms reaching to pull Kedon inside. “NOOooooo!” I screamed. I heard the sounds of laughter, sobs and gasps but I couldn’t tell where they came from. Turning, stumbling, I grabbed the back of Kedon’s blue and gray shirt. I heard the rip, felt the cloth come loose in my hand. I heard myself sobbing, “Kedon! Kedon!” I was crying his name knowing -somehow- that he would be gone forever if he made it through That Window. A hand brushed against mine. Fingers gripped then lost their hold. Kedon was part way into the Window. My heart thumped crazily. I was losing. Losing Kedon. “Kedon!” I screamed again. This time he turned his head, looking at me as if seeing a ghost. “Julia?” he asked. There was bewilderment in his voice. Then something snapped in his features. His knee was resting on the Window ledge. My breath caught in my throat. Their hands had a hold on him. My fingers dug into a section of his torn shirt. All at once, I had my other arm around his neck, my fingers reaching to get a hold across his chest. I was pulling and Kedon was helping me. He was resisting the hands of The Window. I felt the hot air of the planet brush against me, so hot I thought my body was burning up. I wondered what the result would be if I let Kedon go. If I climbed in there with him. We might not come back out but we'd be together. He wouldn't join Star Fleet and I couldn't stay away from it. In there we could live out our lives together. All of a sudden, we were gasping for air, laying in each other’s arms. The sand was rough under me. Kedon shifted, leaned up on his elbow to peer behind me. Following his eyes, I turned around, my Star Fleet uniform ripping on a sharp rock. I didn’t pay attention to it. My gaze was riveted on The Window moving away. The people inside looked sad, forlorn. Kedon’s voice was soft; I could hardly hear him. “Nothing, Jules. There was nothing in there. No feelings, no people, nothing.” I buried myself against his chest as the transporter beam took us away. END

Have the judges been decided upon? My story is almost done.... Almost.

Congratulations!!! *clapping*

Just make sure you don't win... dun't correct spelin and dont pruff read.

Ya gotta eat a lot of apples....

APPLE SEEDS The day Jonni Jett turned 15, she approached Vice Admiral Bullock [a rank ironically appropriate to his methods] in his small office at the Dilithium Mining Quarry. He appeared to seriously study the young woman’s beseeching eyes. Before she could speak, he waved his hand, gesturing to one of the guards that stood at her side. “Take her and clean her up. Then she can talk to me.” Once out of the admiral’s sight [and mind], the guards tossed her into the dirt road that encircled the compound. Jonni picked herself up without looking back and slowly walked the three miles to her home. She would leave Tirion some day, she thought bitterly. “And then I’ll never come back.” She said this out loud where only the rocks and scrub brush could hear her. Two days later, after scrubbing away the dirt until the vat of cold water was black, Jonni Jett again stood before the Vice Admiral. Her clothes were too small for her thin frame and her callused feet were bare. Someone, or she, herself, had chopped her black hair until it lay raggedly at chin length. “Could you see your way to signing my Starfleet acceptance papers, sir?” Jonni’s voice cracked. There were no guards this time, only the Vice Admiral looking secure and confident of his power over one lone child. She tried hard not to shiver. But in her nervousness, she couldn’t stop the cold from seeping into her bones. Her knees buckled and she fell to the floor. A teen-aged boy watched from the side hall and put his fist in his mouth to keep from crying out for her. During the following days, the guards left Jonni alone in a cold, damp cell. On occasion, they would return to punish her for her insubordinate behavior in front of the admiral. They abused her simply because they could. During her month long incarceration, she put to good use the ability of hurling herself into a dream state. A practice she’d come to perfect in the first 10 years of her life. Her displaced jaw returned to its proper place gradually, stopping the earache that had so tortured her. She managed to set her broken arm herself, screaming as the bones snapped into place and before the darkness snatched the pain away. Why she wasn’t dead was a mystery. Once, she awoke to find an unkempt boy pushing an extra portion of food across the floor toward her. She snatched the food off the dirty cement and ate hungrily. (days later) The image of lights shining in her eyes never left her memory. She’d brought her hands up to shield herself from the blow she knew was next. A blow that didn’t come. Instead, a hiss, a kind gravely voice and then darkness claimed her. (18 months later) ((Starfleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth)) ”Sir?” Jonni asked. She brought her hand down at the instructor’s nod. “Are apples poisonous?” The academy instructor didn’t hesitate or ask for explanations. He replied smoothly, “Yes, they are. Each seed contains a small amount of cyanide.” Jonni’s finger moved as if raised. She asked her second and last question, “How many seeds would it take to actually poison someone?” This time the instructor raised a quizzical Vulcan eyebrow. Cadet Jett knew that the science teacher would pick up on her unexpressed emotions and kept her expression passive. As passive as she could after being told that the position she was training for was that of yeoman. Master Jolek answered, watching for tiny signs of disappointment. “It would take two bushels of seeds. Not the apples, mind you, just seeds.” (3 years later) Ensign Jonni Jett stood on the shuttle pad in her clean Starfleet uniform with the single golden pip shining in the afternoon sun of San Francisco. Freedom! Her feelings, so tightly controlled over the past five years, were finally free. She didn’t think of herself as brave, but she was. She never considered persistence to be one of her traits, but it was. She had never been alone but she never knew that. Two days later the shuttle was landing on Tirion. Ensign Jett’s mind went blank at the sight of the black holes that disappeared into the ground. That was a separate life. That had been a different little girl that had lived here; who had grown up here. Her eyes strayed over the harsh black dirt. The memory in her nostrils of decay and mold made her eyes water. Her mind’s eye saw her father standing drunkenly in front of her. His fist was raised to strike and she almost flinched. Reminding herself that that phase of her life had ended, she forced her shoulders to relax. Her chin came up as the door of the compound opened. At a side door, twenty year old Troy Abscomb’s eyes glinted with pleasure. Twice he’d successfully snuck extra food into her cell. Once, she’d opened her eyes and seen him. Now she was back as the admiral’s yeoman. Jonni picked up the canister of emulsified apple seeds, smiled beguilingly and walked forward to meet her new commander, Vice Admiral Bullock. “Admiral,” she said cheerfully, “I’ve brought a special recipe just for you!” END edited for spelling

I've got an outline. By the time I finish editing, the story may be completely different. That's happened before..

Congratulations to all of you! Most especially to the winner and runner-up. *standing and applauding*