Lt Trovek Arys - Path of the Prophets - Did you?

[+ Vitor S. Silveira]

I admit I started reading this as one thing, then it took a surprising turn and was something else.

I love it @Arys

 

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((Arys’ and Lukin’s Home, Coranum District, Starbase 118))

 

To those who knew Arys well, it easily showed when the Bajoran-Human hybrid was troubled. The telltale signs included an inexplicitly increased workload that kept her busy through the nights, caused her to skip lunch breaks and the increased usage of a replicator program that offered protein shakes. 

 

It was a habit she had picked up as a child, and never quite been able to overcome. The difference now, however, was that she had someone who looked after her quite attentively - well, two someones. 

 

Geleth: You did not finish the meal. That means you do not get dessert. 

 

The little girl looked at Arys after she had popped the last halved strawberry into her mouth, and had placed the cutlery neatly next to the empty plate. While dinners were usually a family affair, it was only Arys and Geleth this evening. Lukin had an important meeting to attend to, and would only arrive late in the night. He had also asked Ferri to accompany him - officially so he did not have to take notes himself, but Arys knew that he wanted to give the young Cardassian an opportunity to learn. 

 

Since she didn’t possess Lukin’s cooking skills (or the interest in learning them), Arys had made pancakes and strawberries. Correction - Arys had asked the replicator to make pancakes, and had washed and prepared the previously purchased strawberries and placed them in a bowl. Despite the low effort put into today’s dinner, the ensemble had won her a fair couple of points with Geleth, who adored everything sweet, and strawberries in particular. 

 

Usually, Arys enjoyed them too. Today, however, she hadn’t quite managed to get herself to eat more than a few bites of pancake.

 

Geleth: If you don’t hurry, I eat your dessert. 

 

Arys raised an eyebrow, not sure how to interpret the girl’s tone of voice. It was a mixture between smug and almost taunting, and Arys wasn’t sure if this was greed, or if the child was trying to motivate her to finish her dinner. 

 

Trovek: Well, they are pancakes. This is technically already a dessert. 

 

The disappointment on Geleth’s face was nothing short of heartbreaking as the girl’s lower lip came forward in a pout. 

 

Geleth: But we always have dessert. 

 

Always, as in, when Lukin wasn’t present, and Arys had to acknowledge that she had set the expectation.

 

Trovek: Can we compromise on chocolate milk before bed?

 

Geleth narrowed her eyes. She knew what that word meant. It meant that Arys wanted one thing and that she wanted the other thing, and then they did a third thing that was a little like both. That way, no one was happy, but no one was sad either. 

 

Geleth: Okay, we compopise. 

 

Arys smiled and gave a nod, and under Geleth’s watchful eyes she somehow managed to consume the rest of the pancake on her plate. 

 

Trovek: Do you want to help me clean up? ::she asked once the last piece of pancake had disappeared. She doubted that Geleth really wanted to clean up, but Lukin insisted on getting her used to chores early on::

 

Geleth pondered this for a moment, tilting her head as she weighed the pros and cons, and eventually nodded. 

 

Geleth: Okay. 

 

Trovek: Thank you. Let’s get started. 

 

The girl nodded and quickly joined Arys, who began carrying plates and bowls into the kitchen, where they would be disinfected and cleaned. Arys had, every now and then, remarked to Lukin that simply recycling used cutlery and dishes were a lot easier, but she understood why Lukin valued the handcrafted plates and bowls in particular.

 

Due to a lack of resources, household replicators and the likes had, until recently, been rare in the Cardassian Union, and were a privilege only the upper class could afford. As such, food was cooked and ingredients purchased rather than replicated, and plates were cleaned up afterwards. 

 

Arys still found it odd. 

 

Geleth: Aryyyyys? ::she prolonged the last vowel of the word and let it hang between them for a moment:: Why do you sometimes not eat? 

 

Arys glanced at the girl, once more baffled at how perceptive children were. She wasn’t sure if that was a Cardassian thing, or if she had underestimated children in general, but it wasn’t the first time Geleth pointed out when Arys did something out of the ordinary. 

 

Trovek: Sometimes I get stressed, and then my stomach is in knots, you know?

 

Geleth nodded. She had experienced something similar just a few days ago, when she and Ferri went to a big place to eat cake and pie. They had sat down at a table

with a man who said he was Al-lieeen, and who had then proceeded to say something was wrong with her.

 

Geleth had no longer wanted to eat the cake and she had cried instead, until Ferri had brought her outside, away from the stupid noise and the stupid Al-lieeen and the stupid smells. 

 

Geleth: Why are you stressed?

 

Trovek: I can’t really explain that, Sweetling. 

 

Geleth: Oh. 

 

The little girl let out a big sigh, and Arys, somewhat absentmindedly, stroked over her hair. What was causing her stress was indeed difficult to explain to fellow adults, but impossible to put in child-friendly terms. 

 

If she were to explain it to any of her friends, it would sound like something akin to this: A few days ago, Arys had come across jewellery belonging to Geleth’s deceased mother, and she and had discovered that the material and craftsmanship matched a bracelet Aaron, Arys’ brother, had given her during their last meeting. Said meeting had taken place before the death of Geleth’s parents, and before Arys had even known of their existence. The Bajoran side of her family - Aaron, and her mother Sileah - led a sect that wasn’t so different to Terra Prime when it came to how they regarded hybrids or those of a different species than them. Unsurprisingly, it would have been a disaster for them if the existence of Geleth’s half-Cardassian father, Sileah’s son, became public knowledge. After finding the bracelet, Arys couldn’t help but fear that her mother and brother had something to do with the ‘accident’ that had killed Geleth’s parents. 

 

Trovek: But thank you for asking. ::she smiled, and then decided it was time to change the topic:: Come on, let’s get you bed-ready and read a story, okay? 

 

Geleth nodded excitedly, though the way she eyed Arys indicated that she hadn’t simply forgotten about their conversation. 

 

An hour or two later, Geleth was sound asleep. Arys had read her a goodnight story about a Lion and a Mouse becoming best friends, provided the promised chocolate milk, said goodnight to Gul Naz, and eventually dimmed the lights. 

 

Arys too was tired, but she was well aware that she wouldn’t be able to close her eyes if she went to bed this early - or later, really, it didn’t matter. Sleep was unlikely to come unless Arys helped it along. 

 

There was a clear advantage of being friends with several doctors, and one of them was that a hypospray with a mild sedative - often used as a sleeping aid - wasn’t difficult to come by. Arys usually avoided such medication, but perhaps she would finally be able to let her mind rest. The telltale hiss indicated that the sedative was administered successfully, and Arys realized two things - one, she was in fact getting tired, and two, she should probably have gone to bed first. The sofa she was sitting on suddenly looked a lot more comfortable than the prospect of getting up. 

 

Trovek: Computer, lights. 

 

The lights dimmed to a comfortable level and Arys lay down, using one of Geleth’s plushies as a pillow. Then she closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of her body and mind finally relaxing. 

 

Unfortunately, that state of relaxation didn’t last long. 

 

Arys was pretty sure that she was dreaming as she suddenly found herself back on the Narendra - at least Arys’ brain had decided that’s where she was. A sterile stank wafted through the corridor, a narrow hallway with high white walls to either side of it. Grey light poured in through blind windows, and her ears picked up the echo of a long finished conversation. Usually, Arys would be in sickbay. But as the door by the end of the corridor hissed open, the Doctor found herself in the brig instead. 

 

Vulcan: You are just on time. 

 

The somewhat familiar-looking Vulcan regarded her without any visible emotion and inclined his head. Arys remembered him - not his name, but how he had said they had done all they could. That was back during her first mission on the USS Rahuba, where that chatty Bajoran girl had been alive the one moment, and dead the next. 

 

Was that where she was? 

 

Trovek: On time for what? 

 

Vulcan: On time for the show. 

 

He motioned towards one of the cells, which housed a single individual. A man, human, in his mid-thirties, with blonde hair and in some kind of uniform. His features were handsome, and he smiled a boyish smile as he waved at her. 

 

Arys stepped closer, regarding him. The uniform wasn’t Starfleet issue, but she had seen them on the crew of the SS Belladonna, the passenger liner with the tricobalt device. 

 

Trovek: Lowell? 

 

The man’s smile faded and he shook his head, causing the skin of his face to shift from one side to the other, as if hanging loosely on the bone that shaped his facial structure. 

 

Trovek: Kent. 

 

Adon Kent had been a member of Terra Prime, even if reluctantly so. He had switched sides and helped Ops’ crew in the end, but that didn’t change the fact that he had killed Engineer Lowell, and fed him into a recycler. Arys tried not to think about that when she advocated for Kent to be given a second chance, rather than facing life in a detainment facility.
He had followed Terra Prime, yes, but it was… different. She couldn’t explain why. 

 

The man gave a single nod, reaching up to his face. He began pulling and prodding at the skin of his cheek, stretching it a good few inches before letting go. 

 

Kent: Doesn’t quite fit me, does it? Wearing a dead man’s face. But I can’t take it off. 

 

Trovek: Why not? 

 

Her voice came as a whisper, and the words she uttered weren’t ones she consciously decided to speak. Instead, it felt like she was spectating through someone else’s eyes, aware that she was dreaming, but unable to wake up. 

 

Kent: There’s nothing underneath. If I do, I won’t be… anyone. 

 

The last word sent a shiver down her spine. She wanted to reply. She wanted to tell him that he had a future, that Terra Prime hadn’t managed to take that away from him, but no sound escaped her lips. She stood in horror as she watched Kent trying to keep his features in place while the skin seemed to melt off his skull. 

 

Arys wanted to help. She wanted to get to him, comfort him despite what he had done, banging her fists against the forcefield that felt and acted more like a glass barrier. 

 

Eventually, Kent seemed to be giving up, letting the loose skin that was once his face drop to the floor. 

 

Kent: I think they killed me too. 

 

He sounded surprised as he inspected his real face with his hands. The sickly skin was pulled tightly over his skull, his lips pulled back, and rotting teeth bared in a wide smile.
He stared at Arys with milky, unblinking eyes, and ss he moved towards her, Arys froze. 

 

He had his hands outstretched like Geleth did when she wanted to be comforted, came closer and closer, and as he stood a mere few feet away from her, Arys noticed that the forcefield was suddenly gone. 

 

Kent: You are focused on the wrong thing, Doctor. 

 

He smiled, turning his head downwards. Arys followed his gaze, his arms were no longer outstretched. Instead, he was holding something in his hands. The cylindrical device. A bomb. 

 

Trovek: Kent, no! Why would you do that? 

 

There were eight hundred people on the Narendra. Twenty-five thousand people aboard the Belladonna. Billions on Betazed. 

And yet it was just the two of them. 

 

Kent: For Terra Prime.

 

Trovek: NO!

 

Arys’ scream was drowned out by the sound of an explosion, and a bright white light that enveloped her. 

 

Why was she here alone? Why had Taybrim and DeVeau sent her here? Why wasn’t there anyone helping her? 

 

They should have sent someone else. 

 

They didn’t send someone else because they wouldn’t sacrifice any of their friends. 

 

Taybrim-style. 

 

…..

 

Clap clap clap…

 

From one moment to the other, the noise died down, and the light disappeared. Arys was back in the brig, staring at the cell that had once housed Kent, and now only contained neatly stacked pieces of flesh and bone that had once been a human body. Ready to be fed into the recycler. 

 

Vulcan: Did you enjoy it? Humans often find enjoyment in artistic displays. 

 

Arys didn’t know what to say. She wanted to scream, throw up, and get out of what she knew to be a dream. Her body didn’t obey her. She turned around to the Vulcan, wanting to address him, but the man had disappeared. 

 

In his stead, stood a girl. She was in her early teens, and the ridges upon her nose clearly identified her as Bajoran. Strawberry blonde hair framed a kind, round face. 

 

oO Jeni. Oo 

 

Arys hadn’t thought about Jeni in easily two decades. The girl had lived close by, and she and Arys had been friends back when the Trovek family had lived on Bajor. Not good friends. Not close friends. Just friends. 

 

Trovek: You disappeared. 

 

Arys knew that Jeni had been attending the meetings of Sileah’s sect. So had the girl’s parents. And then, one night, there had been an explosion in a nearby warehouse, and Arys hadn’t seen Jeni again. 

 

Jeni: I followed the Prophets. 

 

Trovek: No. You followed Sileah. 

 

Arys’ voice was hoarse as she spoke, and she sounded utterly defeated, and a stark contrast to the softness and youth of Jeni’s. 

 

Jeni: So does Aaron. 

 

What was that supposed to mean? Aaron followed Sileah, yes, but it was… different. She couldn’t explain why. 

 

Trovek: It’s different. 

 

Jeni: Why? ::she tilted her head, her gaze inquisitive but not judgemental:: Is it because his name isn’t Kent? 

 

Kent. The Terra Prime member who had killed for their cause. The man Arys’ tried to save, the man whose future she tried to secure.

 

Aaron. Her brother, who had been enthralled by her mother’s promise of power and divine purpose. Who Arys had abandoned. Who Arys refused to speak to. 

 

Trovek: I … did all I could. 

 

A lame excuse, one to which Jeni responded with the Vulcan’s voice. 

 

Jeni: Did you? 

 

Arys didn’t have an answer. She couldn’t explain what it was that justified her helping a stranger and abandoning her own bother. The silence between her and Jeni settled, expanded, and drowned her thoughts, her reasons, her excuses, allowing her to transition into a dreamless rest. 

 

---

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Lt. Trovek Arys
Chief Medical Officer
Starbase 118 Ops
J239809TA4

 

[Alcyone Brennan]

Thank you ❤️ Glad you like it!