USS MACRONIN:Deserted Cities of the Heart #2
Macronin Senior Officer�s Retreat
In the Cabin � In one of the private sleeping chambers
�Deserted Cities of the Heart #2�
Commander Chan J�et had warmed up, showered, found a bedroom, a good
pillow, heavy blankets and the thermostatic control for the room,
cranked that up to 85� F, and buried himself under the blankets. He
closed his eyes and lay there.
Sleep did not find him immediately. He was thinking about the cold, the
trek across the land, and the wind snow and weather, real weather that
had been all around him, and Sterling, during their mini-adventure.
He was thinking about, trying to remember when he had done something
like that before. Hadn�t been in a long time, crossing over a mountain
in bitter cold. He was thinking back among the many missions he�d been
on as a member of Macronin and was coming up short remembering a
similar trek. Neither his days on USS MACARTHUR. But something about
that mountain hike in the cold was familiar.
He lay there, remembering his life during the Dominion War. As an
Ensign on board USS MACARTHUR. Had it really been only five years ago
that MACARTHUR had been attacked by Jem Hadar, and the flawed prototype
torroidal warp core installed on MAC had a cascade eruption in the
field, which shot the ship in and out of space and time so severely,
that in the span of six seconds she had spanned a million kilometers
and 36 years, nine months, seven days, six hours and fifteen minutes
into the future? It seemed so much had happened to Chan in the last
five years, that he almost had lived two lives � one before the 25th
Century, and one post 2410.
Now, for the last two years, he was serving on USS MACRONIN. Most all
of the people he had served with on MACARTHUR were elsewhere, or dead.
A lot like most of the people in his life pre 2410. The friends he had
made before he came to MACARTHUR, mainly other ensigns and some
enlisted from the USS BISCAYNE, were either dead or so many light years
removed, he had not bothered to try and connect with. What would they
have in common any more any way? Tom Pisces, a 24-year-old Ensign when
Chan had served with him on Biscayne in 2374, was now a 65-year-old
Commodore based out of Deep Space 4. Chan had been obviously older than
Tom by a couple of years when they had worked side by side on BISCAYNE.
Now, Tom was a grandfather.
Chan�s thoughts ran through the faces and names of those he had served
with before his transfer to Macarthur. Pisces, Fielding, Bishop. Lucy
It had been awhile since he had thought of her. He knew her for such a
short time. She had been one of those injured when USS PANTAGES and USS
BISCAYNE had been ambushed, and he had helped rescue her. Just before
she died, she had given him a gift for saving her life, a �holy water
bowl�. He had wanted to refuse the gift. The doctors had told him she
was not going to recover from her injuries; it was only a matter of
days. He had not saved her life � only bought her some time. Instead of
dying on the bridge of PANTAGES, she was going to die in the sickbay of
BISCAYNE. But she was grateful for that, and even back then, there was
something he sensed, something special about her; something he didn�t
even understand, still didn�t, but he spent every minute off duty with
her, to the end, which only took a matter of days.
Instead of dying on the bridge of the Pantages, she had died in the
sickbay of the USS Biscayne. And she was grateful for that. Grateful to
have had a chance to express her faith and die with nothing but a
promise she held onto of some life after... some �afterlife�.
The Klingons had tried to sell him on that, too. Stovokor, they called
it. Long after he had gone from knowing nothing to knowing a little,
they had sprung that on him. He listened with great respect. He even
tried to accept it. What did he know after all? He remembered nothing
before from the day they woke him up. He actually remembered very
little from that day.
Something about what they taught him about what they believed and what
Humans believed told him it didn't matter what he had been. Only what
he would become. That part he believed. Just the part about what he
would become after life he couldn't swallow. Maybe someday he would
know why, but he wasn't counting on it. So many years had passed since
then, and nothing had changed.
Why did he associate the cold trek over an icy mountain with Ensign
Liu? He couldn�t make the connection � and was really to tired to put
much effort into it. If there were a connection he could tap, it would
come. Or not.
It wasn�t like others had not died around him since then. Captain
Kubiak, on Macarthur, not that long ago. He wasn�t immune to loss. But
no one had died on the mountain. It was just a simple exercise, not
unlike a training mission, just off a holodeck and on a mountain in the
Chan yawned as sleep beckoned. He wouldn�t fall asleep easy, and not
until he let go of his thoughts, and focused on his breathing.
Letting go was never easy without sedation, but the Klingons had
trained him well, so long ago.
Soon he was asleep, snoring quietly, his dreams black pools of silent
waters that ran slow and deep, unfathomable, non-navigable oceans under
a black, starless sky.
Location: Bridge, USS MACRONIN
Captain Caitlin Thorne had mixed feelings about the senior staff
retreat. On many levels it had been a success but others it revealed
some weaknesses. That in itself, she supposed, had made it a success
even if it was easy to consider it a failure. The retreat had been
intended to develop trust among the senior staff, to teach them how to
work together as a team. The fact that it showed her areas where there
was need for work meant that she would have time to work on those
things with her officers before those failings lead to someone getting
killed on an away mission.
She was fairly pleased with the way the new officers had preformed. And
she had enjoyed her own experience with Lucas who had not been
disappointed when they had arrived at the cabin last. They had taken
their time and actually enjoyed the experience in the mountains. They
had suffered no hardships. They had not been in a hurry to win the
race. They had talked a lot and she had come to like the small engineer
who had been, unfortunately, reassigned even before he had managed to
unpack. This left the USS MACRONIN yet again without a Chief Engineer.
The Second in Command in Engineering, a young Ensign named Cathy
McNeilly, was currently in the CEO slot until a full time CEO could be
assigned to the ship. She was inexperienced but Commander Chazz Morgan
had recommended her as skilled and dependable and that was enough for
They had taken on their new officers and crewmen and they had left SBK
for their standard patrol. They would be gone, all being well, for six
months before they would head back to SBK for their next Shore leave
provided they didn't receive orders for a mission that would take them
off the standard tediously boring patrol.
Thorne wished that they had a mission. She actually preferred a little
excitement, some complications; it made life interesting. Thorne didn't
know it yet, as she sat the last few minutes of the graveyard shift
(her shift for the next month -- due to the fact that she had been the
last to arrive at the cabin during the retreat) but she was about to
get her wish.
Chan maintained his own quarters despite his relationship with Caitie.
On nights when they weren�t sleeping together due to different shifts,
he retreated to his own quarters, where he could keep the room a more
comfortable temperature. While he could tolerate standard temperatures
for months without whining about it, there was simply no reason not to
be able to spend off duty time in comfort when he could.
It wasn�t like he was anti-social, locked away in a sweatbox, refusing
to come out.
He woke, as usual, from a sleep state, with no recollection of any
dreaming at all. Rarely, he might wake up, gaining awareness of his
surroundings, feeling a sense of being a small insignificant part on
the surface of a deep black ocean, buried under a black starless sky, a
feeling that would melt away under the weight of convictions things
like walls and ceilings, lights and floors, and your eyes and ears will
give you � convictions of your place in this reality. Convictions that
are cemented by movement of muscles, and the awareness of physical
stresses, as blood and bone react to gravity and your exertion of will
against it, even when you know your on a ship in space, and its only
Chan knew, from interacting with others, that other humans sometimes
woke up scared, or amused, or refreshed, or depressed, due to memory of
a �dream� that lingered. He didn�t feel the least deprived to be spared
those memories. Some of the SFI doctors who had examined him at length
had speculated it might be related to his period of cryogenic stasis,
but no one knew anything. It didn�t matter to him. As far as he knew,
he had never woken up remembering a �dream�. Considering where he�d
been and what he�d been through, he considered himself lucky to wake up
every day, remembering yesterday, remembering his life, from the day
the Klingon�s revived him, right up to this morning.
He easily confronted the gravity that surrounded him, and made his way
to the bathroom this morning. He wasn�t due on duty until 0800. He
would never admit it to anyone, but he secretly enjoyed waking up alone
in a quiet room. He hated their leaves on SBK, with the kids, jumping
on the bed, waking him up, five minutes early. He didn�t mind it when
he was the first one up, but they were such light sleepers, and the
noise level spiked way too soon for him those mornings. Good natured
about it, he never let it show, but alone, he woke up at 0600 as if he
had some kind of time chip embedded in him on Starfleet Standard Time.
Of course, the doctors had checked all that out � no chip or embedded
Still, it was slightly amusing to him, that Chan J�et, once the Big Man
of Mystery, had a body in tune to Starfleet Time...
Commander Chan J�et
XO USS MACRONIN
[NRPG: Chan was one of my first characters in Trek, and a character I
first started playing in 1998, but one I had in mind for some time
before that. In several ways his past life (2360�s-2370�s) as a young
man living on Qo�nos working at a Klingon Medical Facility, and as a
cadet, then Ensign in Starfleet seems so far away from his life as
Captain�s mate (!) � life and living it and all that. Chan was found
by the Klingons in a functioning cryogenic stasis capsule, and brought
to the Klingon Medical Institute, where he was kept in stasis for two
years; while they investigated the crash site his capsule was recovered
from. Revived two years after they found him, he had no memories, no
language skills, no motor skills � he was like a newborn human, except
he was of adult age and size, and rapidly learned Klingon, learned how
to walk, talk, coordinate his movements. He spent several years as an
orderly at the same Klingon Medical Institute, sweeping floors,
changing bedpans (don�t let anyone tell you no Klingon has ever needed
a bedpan � it�s embarrassing for them but its just not true), playing
cards and drinking blood wine on Friday nights. It�s a long story
there�s no time for retelling, how he got from there to here � more
interesting to me than to anyone else. But just as his dreams are lost
to him and us (and he�s okay with that), the two years in stasis at the
KMI are lost to him, just as his life before the Klingons found him are
lost to us. Starfleet Intelligence had him under wraps for several
months in 2414, as did Temporal Investigations, and both (as well as
Starfleet Command) are satisfied with him. Heck he was even offered his
own ship in 2414, an offer he turned down, to join Caitie on USS
MACRONIN. But hey, that�s enough about Chan for one day�I�d like to see
some CD about the other characters around here. It�s your world; after
all, Chan�s just living in it, and all that that implies! <EG> - Noah]
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