Writing Contest: Sagas of Sorrow
#WritingContest
May Love Set You Free
Dedication: To K, with love and gratitude.
Captain’s log, stardate 88538.8. The Valkyrie has rendezvoused with the Alexandria in orbit of New Romulus. In a surprising about-face, Commodore Liazi Trin has requested my assistance with the examination and interrogation of the Tal Shiar prisoner. Although the Alexandria boasts a dedicated team of specialists, they’ve not found a way to reverse her brainwashing. The Commodore hopes I’ll have better luck, and there’s good reason for her to be hopeful. After all, the prisoner asked to see me.
Captain Michelle Marie Alvarado — a handsome, muscular, dark-haired Human woman in a crisp Starfleet service uniform — stepped off the transporter pad. She took a moment to admire the gleaming white surfaces of this fresh-off-the-line Yorktown-class vessel — quite a contrast from the battle-worn gunmetal gray of her venerable Sovereign-class Valkyrie. Commodore Liazi Trin — a dignified, square-shouldered, light-haired Trill woman in a science blue flag officer uniform — extended her hand in greeting.
“Welcome aboard,” Trin said as Alvarado shook her hand. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”
“You said time was of the essence,” Alvarado replied as she followed the Commodore out of the transporter room and into the adjacent corridor. “So let’s get down to business.”
“Indeed,” Trin said. “We have less than 36 hours before we have to turn the prisoner over to Republic authorities.”
“Where are you holding her?”
“Main Sickbay.”
“Not the brig?”
“Let me put it this way, Captain. She killed one of my people, critically injured three others, sustained multiple injuries herself, and made it look as easy as breathing.” Trin stopped and looked the Captain straight in the eye. “Where did a doctor learn to fight like that? Was it part of the programming?”
“Based on what you’re describing? That wasn’t the Tal Shiar. That was us.”
Trin quirked a brow. “You mean she learned that at Starfleet Academy? I saw no mention of it in her file.”
“That’s because my father taught her personally. Her family and mine go way back.”
“And now she’s using that against us.” Trin shook her head. “We need to fix this, before her and the other sleepers do any more damage.”
“Damn Tal Shiar,” Alvarado grumbled, “using children for their own ends.”
“There’s a certain twisted brilliance to it,” Trin opined as the two officers entered a turbolift. “They thought ahead, planted the seeds before the destruction of Romulus. And now they’re reaping the fruits of their labor.”
“With respect, sir, I’m not here to praise their tactical genius. I’m here to help undo the mess they made. And then I’m going to blow them to bits for what they did to my friend.”
“Careful, Captain,” Trin said in a tone both firm and gentle — one she perfected with her children. “Don’t let emotions cloud your judgment. I need you at your level best.”
Before long, the two women found themselves in the Alexandria’s Main Sickbay. Despite the quotidian name, it was a massive facility, spanning four decks. It resembled a planetside or starbase hospital more than what was found aboard most Starfleet vessels. Trin directed Alvarado to a private suite within, the entrance to which was flanked by two rifle-wielding security officers. Four more awaited them inside. There were two biobeds, but one of them was cordoned off by a force field.
Major Veris Saval of the Tal Shiar awaited them on the other side of that force field. Superficially, she resembled Commander Veris Saval of the Romulan Republic. She bore the same long black hair, the same piercing green eyes, and the same alabaster skin. However, she swapped a serene smile for a narrow-eyed contemptuous glare, made all the more menacing by a bevy of green-brown bruises.
“Captain Alvarado,” Saval said in an all-too-familiar voice. Any good voice authentication algorithm would flag it as legitimate, though it was now laced with bile.
“Major Saval,” Alvarado replied in an affected businesslike manner. “You asked to see me?”
“I needed to see if you were real.”
“Oh, I’m real. Pretty sure I am, at least.” Alvarado chuckled as an old saying came to mind. “‘I think, therefore I am.’ That was René Descartes, Human mathematician and philosopher. Maybe you’ve heard of him?”
Commander Saval would’ve erupted with laughter. She might’ve even made the same quip in Alvarado’s shoes. But Major Saval didn’t find this amusing at all.
“Tell me something,” she said. “Why do I keep seeing you every time I close my eyes?”
Alvarado blinked. She wasn’t expecting that. “Excuse me,” she said to Saval, just before directing Commodore Trin to a far corner of the room. Saval grumbled, but offered no other protest.
“Veris is still in there,” Alvarado said to Trin in a hushed voice. “And I think she’s trying to fight back.”
“What makes you think that?” Trin asked.
“It’s a long story, but here’s the gist. I think she’s using memories of me to antagonize the hostile intruder in her mind. And I think she also baited this intruder into seeking me.”
“That’s quite the theory, Captain. How do we go about proving it?”
“Honestly, sir? I’m not entirely sure. But I’m reasonably certain of one thing. You kept me away from her because of our personal connection. But I could use that connection to give Veris — the real Veris — a powerful incentive to break through. And maybe, just maybe, we can do something similar with the other sleepers.”
“I don’t like this,” Trin said. “But you Alvarados are a tenacious bunch. Your father certainly is. And if the memories of the previous Trin host are anything to go by, so was his father.”
“Does this mean I have permission to proceed?”
Trin nodded.
“There’s one more thing, sir. In order for this to work, I need proximity to her. She needs to feel my presence, without restriction.”
Judging by the deep frown on Trin’s face, she liked this even less. But she also knew that the best and brightest minds on the Alexandria hadn’t thought of anything better. So she nodded her assent yet again, albeit with great reluctance.
“Be advised,” she said. “If this goes sideways, I’m pulling you out and returning you to your ship. Understood?”
“Please, sir, let me do what I need to do,” Alvarado said as she positioned herself just before the force field. “I have faith in Veris. I hope you have faith in me.”
Trin offered no response to that. She simply dropped the force field just long enough for Alvarado to cross the threshold, then switched it back on.
“Let me see if I understand this correctly,” Alvarado said to Saval as she casually leaned against the biobed. “Are you saying you dream of me?”
“I do,” Saval groused, “and it’s growing tiresome.”
“What do you see when you dream of me?”
Saval marched up to Alvarado until the two women were mere centimeters apart from each other. “Why should I tell you, Human?”
Alvarado grinned, as if to say, challenge accepted.
“I have some guesses,” Alvarado said as she held that grin tight. “Maybe you’re dreaming of that ice rink on Yonge Street, in Toronto. We were teenagers, and you were trying to teach me how to skate. I was so clumsy then. You had to prop me up to keep me from falling.”
Saval growled, but found herself unable to move or take any other action.
“Or maybe you’re dreaming of your Academy graduation,” Alvarado continued. “They announced you as the ninth Romulan graduate in Starfleet history, and the first physician. You saw me there, in the audience, rising with everyone else to applaud you. Your smile was so radiant, it almost blinded me.”
At this point, Saval clenched her jaw, but still couldn’t move. Something — no, someone — was holding her back.
“Then there was the day you left us for the Republic.” Alvarado’s grin slipped into a downcast expression of melancholy. “You hugged me so hard, for so long. I didn’t think you’d ever let go.”
Being frozen was bad enough, but that was only the start. As Alvarado spoke, these memories came rushing to the surface of Saval’s consciousness, in screaming color. Then, there were the fantasies — the embraces she wished to prolong, the kisses she longed to steal, the way she hungered for Michelle’s touch in the wee small hours of the night. But fear held her back. Even in this relatively peaceful period of Romulan-Human relations, intimate relationships between them remained taboo on both sides. She couldn’t bring herself to take that first step into an undiscovered country.
“Enough!” Major Saval yelled as she reasserted herself. “It’s clear I need to end you, Captain. And then I can purge myself of this weakness.”
Saval’s hands rose to meet Alvarado’s neck, then closed tight around it.
“Of course… you think… love… is… weakness,” Alvarado said between desperate gasps. “You’re about… to find out… how… wrong… you…”
Trin signaled for the security officers to intervene, but Alvarado managed to shake her head ever so slightly, and hoped that would keep them at bay. Have faith in me, Alvarado had said. Trin didn’t have much, but in that moment, she had just enough.
After that, Alvarado could neither speak nor breathe. Her eyelids slammed shut like blast doors, and she slipped into limp unconsciousness. That’s when Saval’s expression shifted from snarling rage to wide-eyed alarm. A voice bellowed from deep within her — paradoxically, one that sounded both the same and different at the same time:
“Let go, you Tal Shiar bitch!”
As Saval loosened her grip, Alvarado slumped to the floor. Trin ordered the four security officers through the now-dropped force field. Two subdued Saval, and two dragged Alvarado into the biobed on the other side of the room. The skreet skreet of the Code Blue alarm summoned a flood of medical personnel, bearing hyposprays and tricorders. One prepared a defibrillator posthaste. Another removed Alvarado’s uniform tunic.
Commander Saval — now fully in control — could only watch with open-mouthed horror as the medical team attempted to revive Alvarado. Her eyes flicked upwards to the status monitors above the biobed. They registered a double-digit systolic and a pulse both faint and weak. A doctor brought the defibrillator paddles to Alvarado’s now-exposed chest. As Alvarado’s body rose to meet the shock, Saval’s heart jumped, as if she received the shock herself.
“I’m sorry, Michelle,” Saval pleaded through sobs. “Please, hold on, please —”
With that, she slumped to the floor herself, sliding against the force field on the way down. She brought her knees to her chest, allowed her head to rest in the space between, and cried until she could cry no longer.
“I love you,” she whispered against the tension in her throat. “Please, come back to me.”
May Love Set You Free
Dedication: To K, with love and gratitude.
Captain’s log, stardate 88538.8. The Valkyrie has rendezvoused with the Alexandria in orbit of New Romulus. In a surprising about-face, Commodore Liazi Trin has requested my assistance with the examination and interrogation of the Tal Shiar prisoner. Although the Alexandria boasts a dedicated team of specialists, they’ve not found a way to reverse her brainwashing. The Commodore hopes I’ll have better luck, and there’s good reason for her to be hopeful. After all, the prisoner asked to see me.
Captain Michelle Marie Alvarado — a handsome, muscular, dark-haired Human woman in a crisp Starfleet service uniform — stepped off the transporter pad. She took a moment to admire the gleaming white surfaces of this fresh-off-the-line Yorktown-class vessel — quite a contrast from the battle-worn gunmetal gray of her venerable Sovereign-class Valkyrie. Commodore Liazi Trin — a dignified, square-shouldered, light-haired Trill woman in a science blue flag officer uniform — extended her hand in greeting.
“Welcome aboard,” Trin said as Alvarado shook her hand. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”
“You said time was of the essence,” Alvarado replied as she followed the Commodore out of the transporter room and into the adjacent corridor. “So let’s get down to business.”
“Indeed,” Trin said. “We have less than 36 hours before we have to turn the prisoner over to Republic authorities.”
“Where are you holding her?”
“Main Sickbay.”
“Not the brig?”
“Let me put it this way, Captain. She killed one of my people, critically injured three others, sustained multiple injuries herself, and made it look as easy as breathing.” Trin stopped and looked the Captain straight in the eye. “Where did a doctor learn to fight like that? Was it part of the programming?”
“Based on what you’re describing? That wasn’t the Tal Shiar. That was us.”
Trin quirked a brow. “You mean she learned that at Starfleet Academy? I saw no mention of it in her file.”
“That’s because my father taught her personally. Her family and mine go way back.”
“And now she’s using that against us.” Trin shook her head. “We need to fix this, before her and the other sleepers do any more damage.”
“Damn Tal Shiar,” Alvarado grumbled, “using children for their own ends.”
“There’s a certain twisted brilliance to it,” Trin opined as the two officers entered a turbolift. “They thought ahead, planted the seeds before the destruction of Romulus. And now they’re reaping the fruits of their labor.”
“With respect, sir, I’m not here to praise their tactical genius. I’m here to help undo the mess they made. And then I’m going to blow them to bits for what they did to my friend.”
“Careful, Captain,” Trin said in a tone both firm and gentle — one she perfected with her children. “Don’t let emotions cloud your judgment. I need you at your level best.”
Before long, the two women found themselves in the Alexandria’s Main Sickbay. Despite the quotidian name, it was a massive facility, spanning four decks. It resembled a planetside or starbase hospital more than what was found aboard most Starfleet vessels. Trin directed Alvarado to a private suite within, the entrance to which was flanked by two rifle-wielding security officers. Four more awaited them inside. There were two biobeds, but one of them was cordoned off by a force field.
Major Veris Saval of the Tal Shiar awaited them on the other side of that force field. Superficially, she resembled Commander Veris Saval of the Romulan Republic. She bore the same long black hair, the same piercing green eyes, and the same alabaster skin. However, she swapped a serene smile for a narrow-eyed contemptuous glare, made all the more menacing by a bevy of green-brown bruises.
“Captain Alvarado,” Saval said in an all-too-familiar voice. Any good voice authentication algorithm would flag it as legitimate, though it was now laced with bile.
“Major Saval,” Alvarado replied in an affected businesslike manner. “You asked to see me?”
“I needed to see if you were real.”
“Oh, I’m real. Pretty sure I am, at least.” Alvarado chuckled as an old saying came to mind. “‘I think, therefore I am.’ That was René Descartes, Human mathematician and philosopher. Maybe you’ve heard of him?”
Commander Saval would’ve erupted with laughter. She might’ve even made the same quip in Alvarado’s shoes. But Major Saval didn’t find this amusing at all.
“Tell me something,” she said. “Why do I keep seeing you every time I close my eyes?”
Alvarado blinked. She wasn’t expecting that. “Excuse me,” she said to Saval, just before directing Commodore Trin to a far corner of the room. Saval grumbled, but offered no other protest.
“Veris is still in there,” Alvarado said to Trin in a hushed voice. “And I think she’s trying to fight back.”
“What makes you think that?” Trin asked.
“It’s a long story, but here’s the gist. I think she’s using memories of me to antagonize the hostile intruder in her mind. And I think she also baited this intruder into seeking me.”
“That’s quite the theory, Captain. How do we go about proving it?”
“Honestly, sir? I’m not entirely sure. But I’m reasonably certain of one thing. You kept me away from her because of our personal connection. But I could use that connection to give Veris — the real Veris — a powerful incentive to break through. And maybe, just maybe, we can do something similar with the other sleepers.”
“I don’t like this,” Trin said. “But you Alvarados are a tenacious bunch. Your father certainly is. And if the memories of the previous Trin host are anything to go by, so was his father.”
“Does this mean I have permission to proceed?”
Trin nodded.
“There’s one more thing, sir. In order for this to work, I need proximity to her. She needs to feel my presence, without restriction.”
Judging by the deep frown on Trin’s face, she liked this even less. But she also knew that the best and brightest minds on the Alexandria hadn’t thought of anything better. So she nodded her assent yet again, albeit with great reluctance.
“Be advised,” she said. “If this goes sideways, I’m pulling you out and returning you to your ship. Understood?”
“Please, sir, let me do what I need to do,” Alvarado said as she positioned herself just before the force field. “I have faith in Veris. I hope you have faith in me.”
Trin offered no response to that. She simply dropped the force field just long enough for Alvarado to cross the threshold, then switched it back on.
“Let me see if I understand this correctly,” Alvarado said to Saval as she casually leaned against the biobed. “Are you saying you dream of me?”
“I do,” Saval groused, “and it’s growing tiresome.”
“What do you see when you dream of me?”
Saval marched up to Alvarado until the two women were mere centimeters apart from each other. “Why should I tell you, Human?”
Alvarado grinned, as if to say, challenge accepted.
“I have some guesses,” Alvarado said as she held that grin tight. “Maybe you’re dreaming of that ice rink on Yonge Street, in Toronto. We were teenagers, and you were trying to teach me how to skate. I was so clumsy then. You had to prop me up to keep me from falling.”
Saval growled, but found herself unable to move or take any other action.
“Or maybe you’re dreaming of your Academy graduation,” Alvarado continued. “They announced you as the ninth Romulan graduate in Starfleet history, and the first physician. You saw me there, in the audience, rising with everyone else to applaud you. Your smile was so radiant, it almost blinded me.”
At this point, Saval clenched her jaw, but still couldn’t move. Something — no, someone — was holding her back.
“Then there was the day you left us for the Republic.” Alvarado’s grin slipped into a downcast expression of melancholy. “You hugged me so hard, for so long. I didn’t think you’d ever let go.”
Being frozen was bad enough, but that was only the start. As Alvarado spoke, these memories came rushing to the surface of Saval’s consciousness, in screaming color. Then, there were the fantasies — the embraces she wished to prolong, the kisses she longed to steal, the way she hungered for Michelle’s touch in the wee small hours of the night. But fear held her back. Even in this relatively peaceful period of Romulan-Human relations, intimate relationships between them remained taboo on both sides. She couldn’t bring herself to take that first step into an undiscovered country.
“Enough!” Major Saval yelled as she reasserted herself. “It’s clear I need to end you, Captain. And then I can purge myself of this weakness.”
Saval’s hands rose to meet Alvarado’s neck, then closed tight around it.
“Of course… you think… love… is… weakness,” Alvarado said between desperate gasps. “You’re about… to find out… how… wrong… you…”
Trin signaled for the security officers to intervene, but Alvarado managed to shake her head ever so slightly, and hoped that would keep them at bay. Have faith in me, Alvarado had said. Trin didn’t have much, but in that moment, she had just enough.
After that, Alvarado could neither speak nor breathe. Her eyelids slammed shut like blast doors, and she slipped into limp unconsciousness. That’s when Saval’s expression shifted from snarling rage to wide-eyed alarm. A voice bellowed from deep within her — paradoxically, one that sounded both the same and different at the same time:
“Let go, you Tal Shiar bitch!”
As Saval loosened her grip, Alvarado slumped to the floor. Trin ordered the four security officers through the now-dropped force field. Two subdued Saval, and two dragged Alvarado into the biobed on the other side of the room. The skreet skreet of the Code Blue alarm summoned a flood of medical personnel, bearing hyposprays and tricorders. One prepared a defibrillator posthaste. Another removed Alvarado’s uniform tunic.
Commander Saval — now fully in control — could only watch with open-mouthed horror as the medical team attempted to revive Alvarado. Her eyes flicked upwards to the status monitors above the biobed. They registered a double-digit systolic and a pulse both faint and weak. A doctor brought the defibrillator paddles to Alvarado’s now-exposed chest. As Alvarado’s body rose to meet the shock, Saval’s heart jumped, as if she received the shock herself.
“I’m sorry, Michelle,” Saval pleaded through sobs. “Please, hold on, please —”
With that, she slumped to the floor herself, sliding against the force field on the way down. She brought her knees to her chest, allowed her head to rest in the space between, and cried until she could cry no longer.
“I love you,” she whispered against the tension in her throat. “Please, come back to me.”
