Second-Hand Faith

Posted on May 18, 2015 @ 1:09pm by Captain Michael Turlogh Kane & Selyara Chen
Edited on on May 20, 2015 @ 12:36pm

Mission: The Lights of Hyperion

"Second hand faith"
(Cont. "Culpability")
* * *=/\=* * *

"I'll take my hope where I can find it, seems I find it here in you...

A little second hand faith: a line upon my palm I can't just erase,

'cause I need to believe in a hierarchic grace.

I can do without a book I'll never read, second hand faith is all I need."- Emilie Autumn "Second hand faith"
* * *=/\=

Location: USS PHOENIX
Stardate: 2.150515.2206

Scene: Captain’s Quarters

Michael Turlogh Kane got into bed, deactivated the lights, and closed his eyes. The weariness he was feeling hadn’t been there a while ago. It had crept up on him, had suddenly been there, like when someone realises they are casting a shadow.

He wanted to sleep, but lay awake, thinking about Shanty Town, feeling guilty about his spacious quarters while thousands of people were crammed together in the cargo bays. At least the children and families were being moved to the safe zone in the decks above and below. That was a good thing. For the moment, things were the best that he could make them, but he still felt uneasy. The future - suddenly there again, like that shadow - stretched out ahead. He had no idea what the future held for the people of Limbo. Surely they couldn’t all stay on the Phoenix indefinitely. Surely they would be gathered up into the arms of the Federation and given a good life on some blue planet somewhere.

If Admiral Radaik succeeded in persuading the Romulans to abandon their offensive and move back beyond the Neutral Zone, if Selyara’s information led to the purging of the Neo-Essentialist officers in Starfleet, if Edgerton could be overthrown -

If. If. If. So many ifs.

His door chimed. Someone was outside. He sighed inwardly and got out of bed, turning on the lights and looking around for something to put on over his sleeping pants. “Computer, who’s at the door?” he asked, opening his wardrobe.

[[Selyara.]]

Kane stopped dead. He turned to face the entrance to his quarters. “Come in.”

The doors hissed open and Selyara stepped inside. She was still dressed in the outfit she had been wearing on Limbo while she was running the Shadow Market - a tight, short thing that was just barely on the right side of respectability - that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a jemaheron warm-up party. Her eyes were still wary, but she seemed far less tired than she had been while in sickbay. In her hands she had a stack of PADDs, which she proffered.

“You’re not wearing anything. You were sleeping?” Selyara asked, but it was an inquiry. She didn’t seem as though she was going to go away, even if she had interrupted him. There was something about her body language that was uneasy, tense, like she had to get something off of her chest, and anyway, he wasn’t going to turn her away.

“I was about to, but come in anyway,” Kane responded, beckoning her in. There was a flash of nervous relief in her eyes. She entered, looking around cagily, like she was looking for threats and escape routes. She shoved the PADDs at him, but he wasn’t ready and they tumbled to the floor, clattering loudly. She stared dumbly at them as he picked them up and put them on the coffee table.

“That’s the most recent information on the state of the Federation. I just got it from my contacts, so it is as good as it gets,” she said. “I also put in a bunch of information on the movements of goods that I think are related to weapons manufacture by the Neo-Essentialists. Those are also fresh off the press. I think they have made some changes since I last looked into it, and - ” she began to ramble in a nervous, almost childlike stream of consciousness, then trailed off, a blank look on her face.

Kane glanced down at the PADDs. When he looked up, her eyes were on his body, but they flickered away immediately. He frowned. “How did you get onto the computer? Actually, forget it, I don’t want to know.” He looked at the stack of PADDs again. “Did you come here just to give me those things?”

“Don’t you think I’m capable of finding out anything I want?” she asked, her mouth twisted in annoyance. “And your computer security is a joke - if you just hack into a junction near the mainframe you bypass half of the safeguards. I may also have had your command codes, so I just - ”

“What? Did you steal my command codes out of my brain earlier?” Kane was a little angry now. He’d trusted her enough to let her enter his mind, and she’d seemingly gone ahead and helped herself to more than what he’d been offering.

Selyara flinched slightly. “I was not going to use them for anything. They were just there, and I couldn’t ignore them! But then you asked me to help you, and I needed them in order to do so, and I figured it would not be that much of a problem.” She sat down on his couch and kneaded her hands together for a moment, then reached forward and compulsively began to arrange the items on his coffee table into neat lines. “But I was wrong, because you are angry with me.”

Kane watched her carefully. He spoke more gently. “I’m not mad at you. I’m just disappointed that you didn’t respect my boundaries.”

“I am sorry, Michael.” She stared at her hands studiously, her face obscured by her hair. “I have a hard time remembering what those are anymore. Boundaries, I mean, not yours specifically."

Kane let the silence linger for a moment. His eyes wandered down the curves of her body, fatigue forgotten now. Unknowing, Selyara chewed her thumbnail like she was waiting for something.

“You didn’t come here to sit in silence, right?” he said, trying a different tack. He reached into his wardrobe and wrestled into a sweater. “Do you want something to eat or drink?”

“No. I want to ask you a question.”

“Ask away.”

“Why do you do it?” Her hands fluttered like butterflies, encompassing the whole ship “Why do you put up with the isolation of command with all the responsibility it brings? How do you abide the never-ending rules, the constant string of people wanting you to fix some problem they could have solved if they just used half a brain cell? How do you tolerate being alone in a ship full of thousands of people?”

“When you put it like that, I don't know."

“I used to think it was worth it, that being dependable and serving others selflessly was the highest calling a being could answer, that it didn't really matter if I had to subsume all my desires as long as by doing so I allowed others to pursue theirs. And I must not have thought it a burden, otherwise I never would have said the things I did to you," Selyara said absently, her green eyes staring out into the void outside his windows. “Or, at least I think I did. I can’t really remember anymore. Now all I see in it is a laughable archaic notion of nobility."

Kane said nothing. Selyara’s heart was on her sleeve right now. Maybe, he thought, it’s important that I just be here, that I just listen.

* * *=/\=* * *

Scene: Marine Barracks

Kassandra hummed under her breath as she checked power supplies on the Marine riot control equipment. Hopefully they wouldn’t need to use it, but they needed to be prepared if the worst came to worst, and besides, she was useless for much else. She needed to keep herself busy. This work she could do blind, so ingrained were the repetitive motions. Remove power supply, dock in the diagnostic port, beep, replace, repeat.

From beside her she heard a soft snuffling noise, wet and snotty, that she knew very well from raising her niece and nephew.

“You cryin’ Buttercup?” Kass asked, knowing what the answer was, and also knowing that the little girl was not going to tell the truth. Children were simple, children were endearing little liars.

“No,” Buttercup said, as though reading from a cue card. Kassandra smiled.

“It’s OK to cry, you know,” Kassandra put down the power packs she was testing, and turned towards the little girl’s voice.

“Momma said I should be brave,” Buttercup said, a muffled sniffle obscuring the last word.

“It takes bravery to cry, believe me. Come here kiddo,” Kassandra spread her arms and wiggled her fingers. Buttercup fairly flung herself into Kassandra’s embrace. “You think I’m pretty tough, right? Well I’ll tell you somethin’, I’m too scared to cry mosta the time. So if you wanna cry, you should do it.”

Kassandra heard the hiccuping sobs of the young girl loud in her ear, and felt the wetness of the child's tears and drippy nose spreading uncomfortably across the fabric of her shirt. She held the child tight and made soothing noises until the tears had run their course and became trembling breaths.

“See? Bet’ch’ya feel better now, right? Bein’ sad ain’t something to hold back, okay? As my mum always said, ‘better out than in,’ “ Kassandra picked up a rag from the table- it felt reasonably clean- and gently felt around for Buttercup’s nose. Once she found it, she pressed the rag to it. “Blow.”

The wet, phlegm filled, snotty blow seemed to go on forever, and Kassandra could feel her fingers growing moist. She wondered how children ever managed to create so much bodily fluids in such little time.

Kassandra dropped the rag into what she hoped was the waste receptacle and heaved Buttercup onto her hip. The girl lay limply against her. Her energy drained by her crying fit, Buttercup became became a dead weight in Kassandra’s arms.

Kassandra felt her way to the entry of her quarters with the help of the ‘infernal contraption’ as Kassandra was starting to think of the device on her wrist. She strongly suspected that Cindy Rochemonte had made the voice as annoying as possible, at the least discreet volume possible, as some sort of petty revenge. She shuffled over to the bed and set the little girl down, stroking the springy mess of curls comfortingly as she pulled up the worn comforter over Buttercup.

Kassandra turned to go back to checking powerpoints, but found her wrist caught by the child’s slimy hand.

“Don’t go,” the little girl’s voice had the slight whine to it that told Kassandra that she was exhausted and struggling to keep her eyes open. Kassandra let out a deep sigh, and carefully sat down on the bed next to Buttercup. Her side ached, her head was pounding, and she wasn’t much good as a Marine. At least here she was of some help.

“Scootch over kiddo, I think I’m due a nap myself,” Kassandra said and lay down on the very edge of the bed. Buttercup attached herself to Kassandra’s side like a limpet. Within a few minutes the two of them were fast asleep.

* * *=/\=* * *

Scene: Captain’s Quarters, as before

Selyara had filled Kane’s silence with chatter, thoughts and words tumbling out as though she hadn’t talked to another person in a long time. It seemed there was something that she wanted to say, but couldn’t work up the nerve to begin. Again and again she circled the topic, never really getting closer, but always returning to the same theme- isolation and loss.

"I do remember the loneliness,” Selyara was saying, lacing her fingers together and putting them under her knees. “But at least I had family back then. Risa and Lily disowned me, did you know that? I visited Da just after I left the Jaros Stockade and it’s like I never existed in my home. No pictures, no old room, nothing. Lily has a child, and I don’t think that little girl knows I exist.”

Kane nodded in understanding. “After I destroyed the Discovery, I went back to Thomond and burned it down.”

“Why?” she said incredulously.

“To burn my bridges. There was nothing for me there anymore. And sometimes, you have to burn your bridges to stop yourself going back to a place you don’t belong anymore.”

There was a flicker of something in her eyes, but it was gone before he had time to put a name to it. She got up from the couch abruptly and headed for the door, then paused and looked over her shoulder.

“Didn’t you ever wonder why I did what I did? Why I threw everything away and turned the Patriot over to the Orion Syndicate?”

“I suppose I did, as it didn’t seem to be something the woman I knew would do. But we often find ourselves doing things we didn’t expect to based on circumstances beyond our control.” Kane thought of Drake for a moment, heard the man’s last words.

Selyara flashed him a meaningful glance as though she knew what he’d done. She probably did.

You’re no better than Rawyvin Seth, Captain. Kane had a moment of deep discomfort wondering what other of his secrets she had stolen as she walked through his mind.

"Beyond our control." Her lips twisted in bitter amusement. She turned away, waving her fingers over her shoulder, all trace of her earlier vulnerability replaced by a slightly mocking smugness. Whatever it was that she’d wanted to tell him, it would have to wait until whatever whim it was that brought her here tonight took hold of her again. "Good night, Michael Turlogh Kane. Sweet dreams."

The door hissed shut behind her and Kane wearily made his way back to bed for what little sleep he could manage to steal.

* * *=/\=* * *

Scene: Marine Barracks

Kassandra woke, the ache in her side was worse than before- it seemed to have tightened as she slept, and now it throbbed as her muscles flexed around the wound. She groaned, and felt around the bed next to her for the child. Not there. Horatio should be on his break now, he would take care of her.

Kassandra rolled awkwardly off the edge of her bed, stood and stumbled for the shower. She was suddenly and acutely aware of the stench of her sweat and the grimy stickiness of dried blood and the filth of LIMBO that crusted her skin. She struggled out of her clothing, swearing as she went, and slid her hands along the slick walls of the shower unit, looking for her little rack of toiletries.

“Shower, water at 49 celsius, medium power,” Kassandra ordered, her skin prickling from the chill of her quarters. There was a momentary delay, and then the warm water came pouring down, soothing the ache in her side. She stayed in there for nearly half an hour, luxuriating in the hot water and the smell of the ridiculously overpriced toiletries that she’d brought from earth. She'd catch hell from her Marines if they knew about her collection, but she figured there was no reason to be ashamed of smelling nice.

She toweled off and carefully made her way to the closet. She felt around the edge for a uniform, and put it on. The familiar lines and fabric and crispness of the collar was comforting.

{{Lieutenant Rochemonte to Major Thytos,}} Cindy’s voice said sullenly from the device on Kassandra’s wrist {{We’ve finished a replacement unit for your processors. If you come up to sickbay, myself and Doctor Cade will get your nets up and running.}}

Kassandra momentarily considered telling the engineer exactly where she could shove it, but decided against it. She needed to be back up and running, she knew her Marines would be getting tired, and an extra person in the rotation would make all the difference.

“I’ve got a little sprogget here, so as soon as I make sure someone’s here to keep a set of eyes on her I’ll be right up,” Kassandra pulled on her boots and fumbled with the laces until they were tied. There was a long silence.

{{What the hell is a sprogget?}} Cindy sounded suspicious.

“Sprogget: Kid, bratling, rugrat, you know, a child. In this case, a little girl named Buttercup.”

{{They’re letting you take care of children?}} Cindy said snidely. {{We really must be desperate.}}

Kassandra bristled at that, but she kept her temper under control enough to force out a sweet rejoinder:

“Well, they were gonna ask you, but figured that it might be better to put her with a responsible adult. I’ll be up in a minute.”

Kassandra felt her way to her door, which hissed open smoothly. She could hear Buttercup singing something softly under her breath. Kassandra slid her feet along the floor to avoid barking her shins on wayward furniture, and approached the noise.

“Shhhh. Mister Harry is sleeping, so we gotta be quiet. Stacy said,” Buttercup said in a childish whisper-that-wasn’t.

“Okay. Quiet we shall be,” Kassandra whispered. “Where is Stacy?”

“She’s running logistics, an’ uhhhhhh. I forget. She said she’d be back soon, and tell Molly and me a story,” Buttercup replied.

“Who is Molly,” Kassandra asked, hunkering down towards where Buttercup’s voice came from. Her side and back screamed as she flexed them.

“Molly’s my dolly, she is very lonely,” Buttercup said, her voice quavering a little.

“Is she now,” Kassandra smiled and stood up again with a muffled groan. “Stay here for a minute, I think I know how to fix that.”

She made her way laboriously back to her quarters, and opened the closet again. Sliding her hand towards the back corner she pulled loose the duffle bag she’d managed to take with her from Earth. She dug her hand way down into the bottom until she felt a fuzzy arm, and gently pulled the toy loose. She could picture it vividly, a blue potbellied bear with bright yellow eyes, and a little pink tongue that poked out rakishly from its muzzle, with a hand knit scarf of orange and purple. It was a venerable relic, some thirty years old, that her sister had given her. It was a cherished belonging, but Kassandra had a feeling that it would do more good in Buttercup’s possession than stuffed in her closet for her to take out and mope over every once in a blue moon.

Kassandra reentered the main room of the barracks, the toy held behind her back. Once she reached Buttercup she brought the bear out and held it towards her.

“This is Rupert, and I believe he just may be the perfect friend for Molly,” Kassandra said gravely..

“Is this your toy? Is it for me? Won’t you be lonely without Rupert?” Buttercup asked.

“It is for you, and maybe I’ll be a little bit lonely, but tell you what: Once you and Molly aren’t lonely anymore, you can give him back to me, but not a minute before,” Kassandra said with a smile. “Now, I have to go to the doctor’s so I’ll be able to see again, but I’ll be back to check on you after that. When Stacy gets back, have her take you to visit the ship’s children.”

“Awright.” Buttercup said. She took the teddy bear from Kassandra’s hand. “Molly, may I present Rupert the Bear? Rupert the Bear this is Miss Molly the Magnificent.”

* * *=/\=* * *

Scene: Sickbay.

“You’re one lucky bitch,” Cindy was saying with a note of contempt. “Lieutenant Byte was apparently fascinated by your processors so it had done all the research into how they worked. They’re similar to its processors, and it had a spare part available that we were able to modify. Once we’re no longer running ragged we’ll be able to replicate another one for him.”

[[I have made what I think will be some improvements as well,]] Byte’s voice suddenly came out of the darkness very near to Kassandra, making her jump. [[Nothing drastic, just small adjustments. Better filters for extraneous background readings, quicker response time refocusing on small objects, more realistic fading at the edges of your sensor limits,.]]

“So you’re sayin’ I ain’t gettin’ any superpowers this time?” Kassandra put a mock note of disappointment in her voice. She heard a little whir of servos.

[[One might say that your sensor nets already give you an advantage over most humans, in some instances. But I do not think that any change in your sensor net processors would be capable of giving you anything resembling-]]

“How about you stop teasing the Android?” Cade’s voice approached quickly, followed by the clatter of surgical instruments. She felt his gloved hands on her face as he turned her head to expose the remnants of her old processor. He immobilized her head in some sort of field.

“What are you doing?” Kassandra frowned as he activated a second field around her body.

“Well, today I get the pleasure of opening up that head of yours so we can replace the neural wiring. Cindy and I have a bet. She says it’ll be empty, I say, it’s probably filled with rocks,” Cade said cheerfully. Kassandra glowered.

“Is it gonna be pile on Kassandra day or somethin’ today? Maybe you two wanna go down to the shuttlebays and start a ‘We hate Kassandra’ anti fan club?” There was a hiss of a hypospray behind her ear and then the throbbing hum of a laser scalpel.

“You’re going to hurt my feelings now,” Cade said as he began to remove a piece of her skull to allow them access to her brain, “and after we had that touching moment when I saved your life through my medical genius too.”

“You forgettin’ the part where you got me slapped, and ‘parently goaded me into makin’ fun of the Captain whilst he was right in front of me.” Kassandra retorted.

“You couldn’t really expect me to pass that one up. Besides, you were too adorable, it was like a teensy barking dog,” the smirk was practically audible in Cade’s voice. “A teensy barking dog on psychedelic drugs. Nope, Cindy, we both lose, there is actually some grey matter in there, though she does have an awfully thick skull for her demographic.”

“Just so you know, if thoughts could kill the both of ya would be toast,” Kassandra retorted, trying to keep her mind off of the fact that a chunk of her skull was missing. “And it might not be much of a brain, but I’m rather fonda it. So could there be just a little less talkin’ while you’re pokin’ around there? I ain’t got that much brains to spare.”

“Cognitive tests, my dear Major,” Cade picked up some sort of tool from the tray beside her and began working away inside her skull. “If you start being less bitchy, I’ll know I’ve messed up.”

* * *=/\=* * *


Scene: The Vulgar Tribble

The ship was in night mode, lights were dimmed, and it seemed even more like a ghost ship. Selyara was relieved by the silence. Although she’d had her pick of rooms, she’d quickly felt like a prisoner again once inside, despite the plush interiors. So she’d come to the empty lounge to think.

Her talk with Kane hadn’t helped one way or another.

It had brought her no closure. It had brought her no comfort. It had not helped her make a decision. Instead, it had left her more confused than before, teetering ever closer to the meltdown she suspected would soon be unavoidable.

She removed the playing cards she’d replicated from the paper sleeve and began her ritual.

One. She was wanted.

Two. They didn’t want HER, they wanted her information.

Three. They wanted Edgerton gone, she wanted him dead.

Four. Even with the same end goal, she didn’t feel inclined to help.

Four a. She didn’t want to help because she was scared.

Four b. She didn’t want to help because there was nothing in it for her.

Four c. She didn’t want to help because she felt nothing for the Federation, or anyone on this ship of refugees.

Four d. She didn’t want to help because she would only end up letting them down or screwing them over.

Five. They were not to be trusted.


Six. She was not to be trusted.

“Selyara? Is that you?” A gravelly voice broke into her thoughts. The card she was placing on the others faltered, and the tower collapsed. She turned in annoyance to face the large demonic form of John Doe.

“John Doe,” she said stiffly. Great. Just great. This was becoming one giant reunion that she didn’t want to be part of. She hoped that there wouldn’t be awkward reminiscences of the past that she would be forced to pretend she remembered or cared about, or worse. Belatedly she realized that more was required of her. “How lovely to see you again.”

“Your enthusiasm overwhelms me,” John Doe’s voice rumbled through the room “A little late at night to be playing cards, isn’t it?”

“I’m thinking. It helps me think,” Selyara picked up the fallen cards and began to construct her tower again.

“You look like a drink would help you think much better than that,” the bartender’s giant hand closed over the deck of cards, and whisked them away. He returned a moment later with a glass, and he put it on the table in front of her. “Your favorite.”

She stared at it sourly. Used to be. She took a sip and grimaced.

“That is positively revolting. It’s like drinking sugar water, with a sugar cube, and some sugar syrup. I used to like that?” She pushed it away.

“Yep, I always thought it was disgusting myself, but I didn’t say so. ” John Doe pushed aside the drink and put down a second. “Fortunately for you, I figured you might have changed your mind about it. No one expects people to be exactly the same forever.”

Selyara bit back a snide retort about the number of unsolicited bon mots which had been flung her way this day. John Doe was just trying to be nice. Besides, it was one hell of a drink.

* * *=/\=* * *

NRPG: POST


Brought to you by:

Alix Fowler
as
Selyara Chen,
a criminal inexplicably allowed free rein of the ship

and

Kassandra Thytos
a MCO inexplicably trusted with caring for small children



AND

Jerome McKee
as
Michael Turlogh Kane
A Captain inexplicably starring in a JOINT POST