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Lt. Cmdr. Alora DeVeau - "For No One"


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I very much enjoyed reading the ending to our current mission as written by @Alora DeVeau
It's a bittersweet ending to an important part of the character's backstory, and what I like in particular is how well narrated Alora's emotional response is. It really emphasises the gravity of what happened, and makes it all the more admirable that Alora puts her feelings aside and focusses on role responsibilities as acting CO. 
Well done! ❤️ 

 

Quote

((Commercial Center – StarBase 118)) 


He stood there before them, a manifestation of hatred, face twisted in 
unfettered malice.  The man was there to kill, to destroy everyone and 
everything because all that he loved himself was gone, taken away, and 
in its place it had left a rotting corpse of a soul.  He was walking 
dead, for there was nothing and no one worthwhile to him any longer.  It 
was the sort of hatred born of excruciating sorrow. 

No one mattered.  Not her.  Not Kalin.  Not even himself.  All that he 
could see was that all around him were gone.  He didn’t care if he 
destroyed them, the starbase, or, truthfully, all of the galaxy. It was 
frightening.  And yet, Alora knew he wouldn’t win.  He *couldn’t* win. 

DeVeau: Time is not on your side! 

Nniol: Time is on no one’s side.  Death is on my side. 

It was true.  Time was on no one’s side.  It carried on, heedless of 
those who were forced to ride in its waves.  In times of plenty, in 
times of want, in times of joy and in times of sorrow.  It was 
indifferent to all.  And yet time could be twisted, its robes knotted, 
and that was exactly what had happened to Kalin - and what Nniol 
wanted.  And while time watched, dragged on by whatever mechanism the 
man had managed to construct to manipulate it, one hand dragged the tip 
of the knife across Kalin’s arm. 

DeVeau: No! 

Alora managed to shove Kalin out of harm's way, avoiding the death 
blow.  It only angered the assassin more, and he gathered himself 
together, ready for another strike.  The sound of thunder roared, but it 
felt so far away, as if they were under water, the sound muffled and 
blurry. 

Nniol: This ends now. 

Teser: ~ Alora. ~ 

She heard his voice, the sweet, deep tone of it filled her mind, but it 
did not bring solace.  Within she could hear an eerie calmness. Somehow, 
in the midst of everything, all the world came to a standstill. 

Teser: ~ Give me your hand. ~ 

Her gaze lifted to meet his, emerald and ebony, locked together. His 
fingers grazed hers, their hands collapsed, and their thoughts melted 
together.  Past and present locked in an embrace as the two remained in 
the midst of the frozen moment of time. 

Their minds touched, danced, merged, two people almost as one. Memories 
filled them both, and it didn’t matter the origin.  It was them.  
Theirs. Their story.  Their lives from the minute they had intersected.  
He flooded her with his own, she with hers, a river that flowed back and 
forth between.  Those moments were gone, swept away in the stream of 
minutes, hours, days, and years that had passed them by.  Those precious 
moments, every minute together savoured in that exchange.  She 
remembered.  Every instance.  Every breath.  Every single second with 
him, the belligerence, the sarcasm, the resignation…the eventual shift 
that had turned into tenderness.  Into love. 

But they were in the past, moments that had come and gone, left behind 
for they could not linger in the sweetness of the now, for time waited 
for no one and trudged onward.  Time…twisted and diverged, but even if 
they were to go back, it would set course once again and those moments 
would slip through like sand through the fingers. 

No. She didn’t want to believe that. They were supposed to be together, 
to go together, not to relive what had already happened, but to move 
forward toward a future with each other, whether it was in the past or 
in a time to come.  It didn’t matter *when* as long as it was with 
*him*.  She knew what he was saying, though he did not say it.  He 
didn’t need to. 

She didn’t want him to. 

No.  She couldn’t let him go.  And yet even as they held on to one 
another she realised they had to let go.  She had to.  Again. Forever.  
There was no return from this.  Not this time.  Her chest heaved, a 
single sob escaped, and yet she could say nothing. Agonising sorrow 
billowed deep within, and yet at the same time an anguished resignation 
to the inevitable. 

Teser: Come, then. 

Their hands parted.  Distance separated them.  And as the assassin 
charged at them, Kalin grabbed the other man’s arm, and then… 

Alora turned, her face fallen into stunned impassivity.  All around her, 
those who existed did so in a state of such sluggishness their movements 
could hardly be seen.  She turned, the air warbling, warping, 
translucent ripples flowing up and down over everyone and everything. 

Aine.  Willow.  She could see them, her own form distorted, jagged and 
broken as if the artist of a drawing ran an erase across and smeared the 
lines.  She turned again, that time back to Kalin, and though she wanted 
to run to him, to grab his hand, pull him out and back to her, to keep 
him with her, she knew what that would do, and who would also come with 
him.  That living hatred strained toward her, teeth gritted as he 
struggled to break free of Kalin’s grip.  A dim light began to grow, 
brighter and brighter, almost blinding and forced Alora to take a step 
back, one arm thrown up to shield her eyes. 

Sherlock: Go for DeVeau! 

Willow: ? 

She heard the sound of voices, of the women who had come to their aid, 
rippled and warbling in the wake of the rift that surrounded her. 

Sherlock: Get the Commander to cover! 

Willow: ? 

In an instant, it all changed.  A deep boom resounded and a rolling tide 
knocked her to the ground; a clap of thunder echoed, then faded.  And as 
it all wound down, Alora pushed herself up and whirled around only to 
find the place where Kalin had been a moment before empty. 

He was gone. 

Sherlock/Willow: ? 

Alora didn’t respond, their voices off in the distance as her mind tried 
to slow down and catch up.  Her eyes sought him out, the tall, dark 
figure of the man she loved . But he was nowhere.  Not there. Not then. 

Sherlock/Willow: ? 

She finally moved, finally turned her head and let her gaze focus on the 
women talking to her.  Slowly, almost painfully, she pushed herself to 
her feet.  Once more, she turned back to that spot, but it was still 
empty, they were still gone. He was still gone.  And he would never return. 

Her stomach heaved, her chest tightened, the knife plunging and 
twisting.  For a moment, she bent over, hands against her knees as she 
took in great gasping breaths, the world spinning around her. Her eyes 
closed tightly, cutting it off and she focused on her breathing, one 
breath at a time.  A little.  Then a little more. Finally going all the 
way, then letting it all out at once.  Her fingers dug into her flesh, 
the ache of her grip cut into her consciousness, and the voices of those 
with her linked her to the present reality. 

It was not a reality she wanted.  But it was her reality.  And it was a 
reality that she could not ignore or escape.  She had been there once 
before.  She was there again.  Only this time, it truly was forever. 

One.  Two.  Three. In.  In.  In. 

All out. 

Slowly, Alora opened her eyes.  Slowly, she lifted her head. Slowly, she 
straightened. 

DeVeau: I’m all right. 

The words were whispered, her voice trying to find its anchor, but still 
feeling adrift.  The space was still empty.  He was still gone. 

DeVeau: I’m all right. 

Even if she wasn’t, she would have to be. 

Sherlock/Willow: ? 

Licking her lips, Alora finally dragged her eyes away and settled them 
upon the two who were still there.  Those who remained behind. Just as 
she remained behind. 

DeVeau:  Secure the area.  I…I need to get back to the Embassy. 

Without another word, Alora turned and hurried off toward the collapsed 
building.  She had to move.  She had to do something. There was much to 
do, and her loss would have to wait. People were hurt, and they needed 
help - and she needed to do something.  Her stomach roiled, her heart 
seared, but she pushed it all aside. There would be a chance to deal 
with that later, to contemplate for a second time what had been taken.  
For now, she had to face the reality of the here and now, and of the 
devastation that had come upon others.  Her own sorrow would have to 
wait.  Time was on no one’s side - especially not hers. 

[End scene for Alora] 



 

 

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