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Lt. Aine Sherlock - Those That Don't Fade

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((OOC: Just a small vignette for Remembrance Day. For those that don't know the background, you can read about it here: https://memory-alpha.fandom.com/wiki/Starfleet_Remembrance_Day)
((Personal Quarter, USS Oumuamua))
The timing was poor. The night before, the party in 7 Forward would take some toll the next morning. Moreso because she had set her alarm to awaken her an hour earlier than she'd normally get up before a shift. It was a ritual she'd done only once before. But it wouldn't be the last. Really the day would be like any other.
She went through her normal morning routine. A quick run around the corridors. When she got back, she had breakfast. Simple eggs and bacon this morning. Following that a shower. Maybe a little longer than normal, just some time to think. She laid out one of her new uniforms on her bed, flat so there wasn't a wrinkle to be seen. Knowing the night would be short on sleep, she'd skipped polishing her boots the night before. She pulled out the small box that contained a tin of polish, brush, and a couple rags. Sitting at the edge of the bed, one at a time, she gave them a once over with one of the soft cloths to buff the toes to a decent shine.
Standing in front of the mirror in her bathroom, she brushed out her hair. Looking into her own eyes in the reflection she thought to herself that those eyes weren't the same as she used to see. In such a few short years, they'd changed. She took her time putting her hair into a tight braid against her scalp, bringing it all together in the back before tying it off as she normally did. Her hand slid down the back of her neck. The tips of her fingers ran over the tattoo she couldn't see but knew was still there.
She donned her uniform one piece at a time. She fidgeted with the jacket like she always did. She always replicated them slightly too big. Just a little loose. The downside being that it never quite sat right. Today she wished she hadn't. She walked over to her nightstand and picked up the two solid silver pips and snapped them onto the chest of her uniform. Taking an extra couple seconds to make sure they were in line with the seam that divided the gold shoulders from the black body, centering them between the shoulder seam and the small square of gold that jutted down from the divide in the collar. The silver and bronze communicator went on the opposite side and just below the seam. She never felt she could get its placement just right. Pulling out the drawer of the nightstand, she reached in and picked up a small pin, one she only wore once a year.
Back in front of the mirror, she looked down at the small round pin. The brushed gold inlaid with a deep blue enamel which in turn had white letters rising from it. Her thoughts went back. She could hear herself screaming "No!" as if it was happening again. When she closed her eyes, it felt like they were flooded with fiery light once more. As much pain as she still felt, she didn't cry anymore when she thought about it. She didn't even get angry like she used to. Sometimes she wondered if it meant she was forgetting. But those memories would never fade.
She took in a slow deep breath and opened her eyes. Looking into the mirror, she clipped the pin onto her jacket, just above her communicator. Rotating it back and forth until the words U.S.S. Resolution looked centered. She ran her hands down the sides of her uniform to smooth it out as she let out the breath she'd been holding. Her right hand paused over the spot on her abdomen where there was still a scar. She pressed into it. The slight physical pain she felt was still there. A reminder...remembrance.
Lieutenant Aine Sherlock
Security Officer
U.S.S. Oumuamua


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