Whiskey Lullaby

Posted on May 26, 2014 @ 7:37pm by Lieutenant Russ BaShen
Edited on on Jun 05, 2014 @ 8:40am

Mission: The Tangled Webs We Weave
Location: Various
Tags: Russ, Maverick

=/\=
“Whiskey Lullaby, Part 1”
(Con’d from: “Home is Where the Heart is”)
=/\=

Location: Alpha 441
Scene: Russ’s Quarters
Time Index: 11 months ago

He was screaming again. Yelling at the viewport as he watched
helplessly as Amnia’s shuttle disintegrated before his eyes. Somebody
was holding him back, preventing him from rushing out the airlock to
her. The love of his life, extinguished in a moment in a quiet and
quick explosion, debris scattering so slowly across the moon’s
landscape.

FLASH. A different scene, a different place. Marcus and Herilin were
speaking to him, but the sound seemed to be muted. Bram and their
mother were comforting Elenia. But Russ only had eyes for the flag
draped, empty coffin of his wife.

FLASH. “Are you insane, or just ignorant Russ?” Mavrick was shouting
at him. “Essentialists? Really?”

Russ crossed his arms sullenly. “This isn’t about that. Starfleet
messed up, Mav. You and I both know that she shouldn’t have died like
that. And then, they didn’t even bother to check into the facts.”

“It was an accident Russ!”

“An accident that shouldn’t have happened, Brett!”

Angrily, Mav turned on his heel and punched the wall. “Dammit, Russ,
that doesn’t mean that you team up with… with them!”

FLASH. Russ was back in uniform. He was back at the helm of a ship,
but yet, things didn’t feel quite right. Amnia… she wasn’t there.
This thought tortured him, as he raised a glass of Romulan Ale to his
lips to drown out his sorrow. He made a face as the liquid burned
down his throat. Slowly, the pain was replaced by a numbness,
soothing his breaking heart. The world seemed to be easier to bear
now. He refilled his glass.

FLASH. “Lieutenant BaShen… this is the third time that I’ve seen you
regarding the same infractions.” The Captain sighed, set his PADD
down as he got up, and moved to a porthole. Russ did not move, stiff
at the position of attention.

“Public intoxication, fighting, delinquency…” The man stopped
abruptly. “Russ, why are you doing this to yourself?” Russ stood
mute, unable to speak, trembling from the after effects of the drink,
ashamed of his current situation. The Captain studied him for a
moment, before sighing. “Russ, I’m going to doing you a favor. You
are hereby on an extended leave of absence from Starfleet.”

The news was like ice in his veins.

FLASH. The bottle touched his lips, the golden-brown liquid like a
balm on the open sores of his emotions.

FLASH. Another dive, another searing draft of whiskey burning down his throat.

FLASH. A hazy specter of reality swimming before his eyes, and the
bottle, clear as day in his hand.

FLASH. Drink the pain away.

FLASH. Drink the world away.

FLASH. Drink. FLASH. Drink. FLASH. Drink…

A screaming throb in his head. Russ opened his eyes to the conscious
world, and then shut them just as quick against the garish light
pouring in from his window. He pushed himself up on his bed, and
slowly slit his eyes open. Vomit coated the bed next to where he had
lain. In seconds, more joined it, as pain and disgust racked Russ’s
system. He had no recollection of how he had managed to make it home;
his last memory was the shot glass he had downed as people around him
cheered him on the night before.

The stench of his surroundings overwhelmed his senses then. Unwashed
clothing, spilled liquid, and hints of urine filled the air. Nausea
hit him again, and he sprang up from his bed, knocking over several
empty bottles in the process of rushing to the toilet, emptying the
last of stomach into the bowl. He remained there for a minute,
weakened by the ordeal. Shakily, he ordered the shower on, and
crawled in, cleansing himself.

The filth washed away, but his nightmares stayed, returning to him.
Like an old time vid, Russ could see Amnia’s shuttle in his mind’s
eye. Loneliness surrounded him, deafening him. The splatter of the
water pounded in his ears, his heart threating to burst with each
beat.

Russ stumbled out, and into the kitchen. The throb in his head had
lessened, but replacing it was the rapidly approaching darkness of his
conscious thoughts. Desperately, Russ brushed aside plates and
half-filled containers of old food, looking for the only answer he had
to all his feelings these days. He quickly found it: a clear
container with honey-golden liquid. The bottle touched his lips once
again, pushing back the memories that threatened to overwhelm him.

Drink.

=====
Scene: The Dive, Bar and Grill
Time Index: 8 Months ago

The ship was spartan to be sure. Yes, Admiral Heyting had said it was
ready to go; Mav now figured what the Admiral had actually meant was
that it ready to go to auction, not into a search mission. Even the
linens had been removed from the crew quarters.

It was going to be difficult. He only had a dozen or so people to
operate a ship designed for 300. In addition, old tech meant the ship
wasn’t as automaed as the newer ships. Built on the Excelsior
platform, the Swiften class was designed to have people in it to press
the buttons, not voice commands to a computer. It didn’t matter
though; this is what he had been offered, so he would make due.

He had already negotiated the delivery of the food stores needed for
his tiny crew, now he was meeting another supplier in this dive to
stock up on other essentials and supplies. They had to have enough to
last them a year, and that had to include repair parts. The
Agamemnon, an Excelsior class surplus ship, had loaned him the use of
a couple of engineers that were familiar with this design and its
peculiarities. Now, he just needed to secure the raw materials to
make sure they could do their jobs, if he could get a little extra so
that the replicators would work, all the better.

The supplier had suggested a meet at the local tavern. Mav had
argued, but apparently, his supplier believed that no deal would be
complete without a glass to celebrate the transaction. Reluctantly,
Mav had agreed, and was now waiting patiently for the man.

It was then that a somewhat familiar form caught his eye. He was
slumped at the bar, holding and empty glass, on the verge of passing
out. *It can’t be…* After a moment’s hesitation, Mav walked over to
the bar and took the stool next to the man. The barkeep looked up.
“I’ll have what he’s having,” the Marine said, indicating the man next
to him. The barkeep nodded and turned away. After a long moment, the
man beside him stirred, and peered at Mav. Mav half smiled. "You
look like shit Russ," he commented.

"Maverick?" The former Helmsman slurred slightly. He squinted
through bloodshot eyes trying to focus.

"Oh, so you are alive.” Mav paused, taking in the disheveled man.
“Jesus Russ, what the hell happened to you? I thought you were
squared away last time we met." The bartender came back, placed the
glass on the bar, and then stepped away. Mav took a drink and almost
spit out the vile rotgut that his friend was drinking. It tasted like
a mixture of freshly distilled whiskey, an ale and Andorian urine. It
smelled just like it too. "Good God man! What is this crap?!?"

There was a giggle, and what sounded like "s-good, yujusgotta… a…
shiman, im tanked," as Russ slurred in response. Mav watched his
friend tilt dangerously to the side before crashing down on the floor
in an unceremonious heap. Mav frowned. He had never seen Russ this
bad.

"Come on we're going home." Mav grabbed his old friend by the arms
and hoisted him up. "Ugh, retirement is making me a wuss,” Mav
grunted under his breath as he tried to support Russ’s weight. “Where
does he live?" he demanded of the bartender. The alien behind the bar
just pointed down the street. It was as much direction as he got.
Mav ground his teeth. "If a Ferengi named Bik comes in, tell him
negotiations will resume tomorrow, and I will include a courtesy fee
for his time." Slowly he hauled the almost dead weight out of the bar
and down the street, only turning when Russ forced him down a
disgustingly dirty alley.

Mav managed to get Russ to frame himself against the doorway. With
Russ recognized, the door slid open, allowing Russ to tumble forward
into the room he had been living. Mav followed, and almost
immediately threw up. The stench of body odor, vomit and other smells
a human makes when not taking care of themselves reached his nostrils.
Mav shouted a few choice expletives, and stood at the frame of the
doorway, now examining his old friend in a new light.

*Russ, have you really fallen this far?* Mav shook his head, and
muttered. “I’m too old for this shit, and you aren’t making me deal
with this. You’re coming with me." Mav held his breath, and moved
towards the fallen man. Balancing Russ using his legs and free arm,
he activated his communicator and requested transport back to the
ship.

=====
Location: Space
Scene: Mav’s ship, spare quarters.
Time Index: A few days later

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Russ was screaming at the top of his lungs
through the doorway. “YOU CAN’T JUST [MUFFLED] KIDNAP ME, YOU…” Mav
listened as Russ trailed off a rather impressive command of languages,
albeit, in an insulting manner.

*With a mouth like that, he could have made a hell of a Marine,* Mav
chuckled to himself. He sobered up as he listened some more. Russ
had not stopped since he had sobered up the first night. In a rage,
he had flown Mav, only to be knocked unconscious fairly quickly and
subsequently locked in his quarters. Mav was at a loss. He didn’t
know what to do for Russ, other than what he was doing right now. He
sighed before shaking his head and walking off. Yes… technically this
was kidnapping, but Mav preferred to think of it as saving Russ from
himself.

-----

Russ pounded the door with his fist. The room was threadbare, and the
replicator was either broken, or deliberately sabotaged to provide
basic rations and water.

Righteous anger fueled the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
The rage kept the darkness at bay. Russ dared not slow down or stop
to think, for if he did, that darkness would come back. This stray
thought redoubled his vicious attack on the locked door.

For hours on end, Russ kept his hysteria up, till exhaustion overtook
him, and Russ collapsed into an uneasy sleep.

=====
Time Index: The next day
Scene: Russ’s quarters

Russ laid on his bed, shaking from neurotic withdrawal, his pillow
soaked wet with tears. The ghost of Amnia sat next to him, haunting
him. She watched him with pleading eyes, silently begging him to help
her. Russ shut his eyes tight, so he wouldn’t have to see the
helplessness in her face, but it didn’t help. Her gaze penetrated
through to his soul.

Russ’s sobs began anew, wracking his weakened body. The pain was too
much. Russ had begged and pleaded with the unfeeling replicator for
just drink to dull the ache in his soul, to no avail.

All the while, Amnia sat there, her face awash with sadness – helpless
to reverse her fate, and helpless to ease her beloved’s pain.

=====
Time Index: The end of that week
Scene: Russ’s quarters

The door slid aside for the first time that week. Russ didn’t stir.
He was crouched in the fetal position on the floor, numbly staring
ahead.

Mav looked down at his friend in a mixture of disgust and pity. He
sighed, and entered the room, carrying a tray of *real* food. It
turned out one of his crewmen had received some culinary training in
the past, and had managed to perfect it into an art form. The food
was temptingly delicious, and Mav hoped that it would be enough to
snap Russ out of his state. He set the try gently down in front of
Russ’s eyes, and then sat down on the bed quietly, face in folded
hands.

After what seemed like an eternity, Mav heard the mix between a croak
and a whine. He looked up. “What?”

Russ’s voice was barely perceptible. “You should have let me just die
there.” Mav grunted, but said nothing. Presently, Russ spoke again.
“Why Mav?” Again, Mav said nothing. He had no answer. *Gods, I
should have taken some counseling or something when I was in the
Academy… I never prepared for this…*

The two stayed that way, in a tableau, with no words spoken between
them. Presently, Mav realized that he had duties that he had to
attend to, and left Russ with his tray of food. When he came back
later that day, the food had disappeared, and Russ had shifted to the
bed, where he lay sound asleep.

*What are you doing, Mav?* He sighed to himself. *You came out to
find Kyle, and instead, you found Russ like this…*

Mav watched the broken man for a few moments, before collecting the
tray and departing the room.

=====
Time Index: 7 months ago
Scene: Russ’s quarters

Mav was sitting in silence again, while Russ stared at the ceiling.
This had become a daily ritual between them. Maverick would bring him
a tray of food, place in on the table, and then sit in a chair,
waiting for Russ to speak. But besides his initial words to Maverick
over three weeks ago, not a word had passed Russ’s lips the entire
time.

Still, Mav liked to think that Russ was grateful for the visits.
While he never moved while Mav was in the room, Mav would always
return to find the food gone. It was an encouraging sign, and at the
moment, Mav was looking for any encouraging sign he could take from
Russ.

“I’m bored.” The words shattered the silence. Mav looked up to see
Russ sitting up, looking at him. There was no smile to his unkempt
features, but there seemed to finally be hints of life.

Mav cleared his throat. “What did you have in mind?”

Russ seemed to have given some consideration to this. “I suppose you
need a pilot for this tub.”

Mav tilted his head. He had a pilot, but considering the progress he
had just made, he wasn’t about to argue. “Not looking like that I
don’t,” Mav challenged after a moment’s hesitation. He wasn’t sure if
it was the right thing to say… but dammit, where was the rulebook for
situations like this?

Russ considered him with a long pause before, slowly nodding his
ascent. “When do I report?”

“0900 tomorrow.”

“I assume my door will be unlocked?”

Mav raised an eyebrow. “I’ll send an escort.” He wasn’t about to
take chances, not after a month of stony silence.

Russ seemed non-plussed. He nodded slowly, and then moved woodenly to
the table to eat his food, without saying another word.

=====
Location: Space
Scene: Russ’s Quarters
Time Index: 6 months ago

It had taken a month. Maverick was still suspicious of him, but he couldn’t watch Russ all the time, and in any case, the rest of the tiny crew was too busy, nor did they share Maverick’s worries. Russ calmly approached his quarters, his escort behind him. There was no rush, and haste would only be regarded with scrutiny. No, to all eyes, it looked exactly like every other day for the past month.

The door slid open, allowing Russ to slip inside. The crewman wished him goodnight, and then shut the door. Russ watched the door close, and waited for a minute to ensure the crewman was gone.

Quietly, he dug out the type-1 phaser from his belt, and punched in the settings for kill. He would have preferred disintegrate, but he wanted to leave no question as to his fate. He set it down at the table, and started writing. He thanked Maverick for his efforts, and told him that it was not his fault – this is what Russ had been heading towards for a while. It had simply taken Maverick’s interference to make it so. He put the PADD down, and turned back to the phaser.

Amnia sat there, gazing at him.

Russ took a long look at her. Amnia was always there. She hadn’t left him, ever since the day Mav had kidnapped him. She had been there, sitting next to him in bed when he woke up; she would sit quietly across from him when he ate; at work at the conn, Amnia would brush her fingertips against the control panel, pushing buttons just before Russ would do so, as if she were guiding his hands. He wished she wouldn’t. Russ had tried to ignore her these past two months. He never looked at her full on, but she always hovered there, in the corners of his vision.

And now, he was face to face with her ghost, staring at her in full for the first time since she had appeared to him.

Russ realized that he had frozen. He shook his head, and began to reach for the phaser. Amnia’s expression grew pained as he picked it up.

“I… I can’t do this Amnia,” he tried to explain to the ghost. She only stared in silence. “I am doing this so I can be with you again,” he tried again. Her expression did not change.

Feelings threatened to overwhelm him. He shut his eyes against her, and put the phaser up to his head. “You’re not stopping this!” He stayed like that, finger hovering over the trigger…. And yet, he still hesitated.

Amnia…. She was as beautiful as ever. Her ghost had not aged her a day. Russ felt the compulsion to see her once more… yes… once more before… before he ended it for good.

He opened his eyes to find Amnia standing before him, staring into his eyes. They were as amazing as he had remembered. In her eyes, he could see all their dreams, all their plans…

An eternity passed. Then, oh so gently, Amnia brought up her hand to his face, caressing it. There was no sensation of touch, but Russ could feel the warmth against his skin, as if she were really there. She was speaking, but Russ could not hear what she was saying. Quietly, her hand moved to his hand, grasping it gently. Slowly, she lowered his hand to his side.

Again she was speaking. Russ strained to hear her, desperate for her words now. They came to his mind, voiceless. *This is not what I wanted for you, my love.*

For the past two months, Russ had locked up his emotions, till they were a dull ache in his breast. Now, at Amnia’s words, a torrent rushed the walls he had put up, breaking the dam inside him, flooding him with grief and sorrow. The phaser clattered to the ground as Russ crumpled, wracked with sobs. Amnia knelt down with him, caressing him and holding him, soothing him with words of love as he wept through the night.

-----

Mav had found out about the phaser, of course. Russ had not concealed the fact the next day; he had handed his escort the device, and simply proceeded to work without a word. Mav had been furious, at the crewmen, and at Russ, making his displeasure known, as well as the consequences that would follow if anybody let such an event occur again. At Russ, he had sworn to bring him back from the dead, flay him, roast him alive, kill him, bring back again, force him through a gulag, rub salt and lemon juice in his wounds, and then kill him again, only to piss on his corpse. Russ had taken it silently, but with a different silence than before.

This had given Mav pause. Something had changed.

At the next stop, Mav had managed to convince a few more personnel to join his crew, bringing him up to a healthier number of crewmen to help him run the ship. It had been necessary – they were all tired, and this latest incident with Russ showed that their attentions were slipping. Fortunately, among the personnel, Mav found someone who had been trained in counseling and psychology. Russ was immediately ordered to attend sessions with him.

=====

Scene: Counselor’s office
Time Index: A week later

Russ sat across from the Andorian – Clevan ch'Faila. The blue skinned alien leaned in slightly, his antennae joining in the action, as if they were observers, also eager to hear what Russ had to say.

“Fascinating…” the Andorian muttered.

“Fascinating?” Russ echoed.

“Yes yes… you pink skins have always held a certain… intrigue…”ch’Faila said with a wave. “So… unexpressive, and yet, so emotional all at once.” The antennae curled slightly inward.

Russ raised an eyebrow, and glanced askance at Amnia. She patted him on the leg. *Give him a chance, love.*

“Well now… where to begin…” ch’Faila mused, consulting his PADD. “It seems that you have been somewhat of a… what is the human expression… ah, yes… basketcase?” Russ stared at the man incredulously. This man was a counselor?!? Only Amnia’s hand, which remained firmly on his leg, kept him from jumping at the man. “And you almost committed suicide, just before I arrived on board. Now, now, how interesting…” he tapped the PADD, thinking. “It seems that you are a bit of a coward, wouldn’t you agree?”

Russ couldn’t help himself. “Coward?!?” He growled. Amnia was on her feet, hands on his shoulders, keeping him anchored to the chair.

“Well yes, quite naturally. You pink skins are naturally not as courageous as one of my race, but I must admit, that you show quite a unique case of weak heartedness in the face of life’s trials… how close am I to the mark, pink skin?” The antennae curled in amusement.

Amnia’s ghostly hands could no longer restrain him. Russ was out of his chair and at the Andorian’s throat. Oddly, ch’Faila seemed to have been expecting this. He swiftly countered Russ’s attack and counter-attacked, putting Russ on the defensive. Russ danced back, and paused, assessing his opponent.

ch’Faila simply laughed from his ready position. “Ah, so he does have a warrior’s spirit after all! Perhaps we may get somewhere yet!”

Infuriated, Russ stormed from the room, ch’Faila’s laughter trailing after him.

=====

Scene: Maverick’s Office


“I’m not going again!” Russ huffed.

“And I wasn’t asking,” Mav countered calmly.

“The guy is a quack!”

“He happens to come highly recommended.”

“Yeah? By who?!?”

“By me,” Mav returned mildly. “My ship, my rules.”

“I didn’t ask to be on your ship, Brett; you kidnapped me!”

Mav waved him off. “Details.”

Russ rushed at his friend. Calmly, Maverick stepped back, and then planted his boot straight into Russ’s midsection, stopping him dead in his tracks. Russ fell to his knees, gasping for air.

=====

Scene: Counselor’s office
Time Index: The next day

“Pink skin! Welcome back!” ch’Faila stood at the center of the room, smiling. Russ glanced around, confused - the room had been reconfigured. Gone was the counselors arm chair and sofa, and in its place was a mat. ch’Faila was dressed in a gi, barefoot, waiting for Russ’s approach.

“What the hell is this?” Russ queried, feeling his anger rising.

ch’Faila spread his arms. “It seems that the good Captain has tasked me with schooling you on how to fight. Following your encounter with him, along with my original diagnosis of your cowardice, he has agreed to permit me more… aggressive treatments.” A smile split his face wide open, and his antennae curled. “Shall we begin?”


=====

Time Index: 5 months ago



Medical Report: Counselor Clevan ch’Faila



My dear Captain,

I am writing to inform you of the status of the patient. He is progressing rapidly with his treatment, though he still harbors much inner anger and resentment. Still, it is worth noting that I have observed an increase in discipline in him as his physique improves and his mind is sharpened with the thrill of hand-to-hand combat. This is very encouraging news.

I must admit that I have trepidation in approaching the source of his anger. My judgment, based on my observations and his profile, is that he has never quite gotten over his wife’s death. I understand that you had your doubts on this point, but I assure you that there is no other reasonable explanation for his deterioration prior to your… ‘rescue.’ However, if my suspicions are correct, I dread the day that I must make him confront this…

=====

Time Index: 3 months ago

“Well, pink skin. You certainly are not as dumb as you look, nor as incapable as your physique suggests,” ch’Faila was saying as Russ sat meditating. *High praise,* thought Russ dryly. Despite the Andorian’s brusque manner, Russ had come to grudgingly accept the man, and now took his barbs with more humor than rage. Russ watched as counselor sat opposite of him. ch’Faila leaned in as he had done the first day, his antennae forward once again, and studied Russ in silence.

Russ studied him in return. Amnia was sitting next to Russ. She had changed in the past few months, moving from sadness to the smiles that Russ remembered. It warmed him to see her that way. Russ’s anger and loneliness had slowly died over the past few months, though deep inside, he still felt that deep ache where Amnia use to be. She patted his hand as he thought this, comforting him.

“Mr. BaShen, today, we are changing your treatment,” ch’Faila said suddenly, surprising Russ. In the months Russ had known him, ch’Faila had never used his name – only calling him ‘pink skin,’ among many more insulting names. “Today, you and I trade words, and not blows.”

Russ was unsure of himself now, but with an encouraging glance from Amnia, he nodded. *Listen to what he has to say, love. You need to hear this.*

Ch’Faila paused for a moment, musing. “I once insulted you, months ago, for your cowardice over the act of attempted suicide.” He paused. “I would have you set the record straight.”

Russ shifted, now uncomfortable. Amnia’s hands were there on his, though, encouraging him. After a long moment, Russ finally spoke. For more than an hour, pieces of the tale tumbled out, until it was a torrent of words. Not once did ch’Faila interrupt or insult; but from his antennae, expressions of sympathy were evoked. Russ told him everything. The drinks and the fights, getting thrown out of Starfleet… and he told him about Amnia, and her ghost. When Russ finished, he felt drained, as if he had been crying all along. Russ rubbed his eyes, and was surprised to learn that they were wet – he had been crying.

“BaShen,” ch’Faila finally said, his voice soft and soothing, “I thank you for sharing your story with me.” Russ didn’t know what to say to that, so he remained silent, attempting to blink the tears away. “You told me that Amnia is here with you, even now,” ch’Faila prompted. Russ nodded. “I see. Then I speculate that, perhaps she has been with you all along, and you simply did not know?”

Russ was shocked by the suggestion, and looked at Amnia in surprise, searching for confirmation. A sad smile played on her lips, and Russ felt shame wash over him. She had been there for the drinks, and the nights he could no longer remember. She nodded to him, reading his thoughts, and tears welled up in his eyes anew.

Ch’Faila let a minute pass before speaking again. “It seems to me that your wife loves you as much as you love her. Why do you think she choose to stay here with you all this time?”

Russ considered the question for a while before answering. “I don’t know… I suppose… because I needed her with me.”

Ch’Faila nodded. “But have you ever asked her what she needed from you?”

The question hung in the air. Russ turned to Amnia. She gazed at him with loving eyes, and a sad smile on her lips. *What need do you have to ask me, love? You’ve known the answer all along.*

Russ choked suddenly on unbidden tears. “I… I can’t.” Ch’Faila’s left antenna rose slightly, but he said nothing. “I… I’m not strong enough.”

*My darling husband,* her voiceless whisper caressed him, holding him close. *I am here because you need me. But I need you to move on.*

“I can’t…” Russ was weeping now. “I can’t lose her, ch’Faila. I need her.”

“Mr. BaShen,” ch’Faila’s voice was a murmur. “She never left you in the first place, nor do I think she ever has any intention of leaving you.”

*It’s true, Russ. I will be here, inside you forever,* Amnia was saying. *But you can’t let the memory of me hold you back. That’s never what I wanted for you, my love. I only ever wanted to make you strong.* Amnia was a blur in Russ’ eyes now. Her hands still caressed his face.

“Amnia… I… I’m so sorry, for everything.”

*My love for you knows no sorrow, only joy,* Amnia’s voice was a faint whisper now.

Russ gritted his teeth and buried his face in his hand. *I love you Amnia.*

*I love you too Russ. And I always will, unto eternity.* Her voice faded.

Ch’Faila watched as Russ’ body was shaken by renewed and heightened emotion. His antennae sank slightly in sympathic mourning.

Russ wasn’t healed that day, nor the next. But ever after, Russ would look back on this day as the day he was renewed.

=/\=

Another glass of whisky but it still don't kill the pain
So he stumbles to the sink and pours it down the drain
He says it's time to be a man and stop living for yesterday
Gotta face it.

… He looked in the mirror and his eyes were clear
For the first time in a while
- From “Wasted,” by Carrie Underwood
=/\=

Location: Starbase 1

Scene: Russ’s Quarters

Stardate: 2.140416.1927

Russ stared down at his PADD incredulously. He had reread the same words a dozen times now, but they had not changed.

[[Mr. BaShen,

[[We regret to inform you that your application for reinstatement with Starfleet has been denied at this time. We appreciate your interest in returning to serve amongst the stars, and hope that this does not dissuade you from applying in the future. If you wish to appeal, please reply immediately.

[[On behalf of the office of Xana Bonviva…]]

Russ sighed. He replied, typed out a quick appeal, and set the PADD down. *What now?*

=====

Scene: Maverick’s Office
Time Index: 2 months earlier

Mav raised an eyebrow at his friend. “Uh huh…” he said incredulously.

“Look,” Russ said, attempting to keep exasperation out of his voice, “ch’Faila even said that I’m alright!”

“He said no such thing,” Mav countered mildly. “Only that you were ‘progressing nicely… for a pink skin,’” he quoted off the PADD in front of him.

Russ sighed, and tried again. “Mav, look. I never actually thanked you for what you did…”

“Damn right you didn’t,” Mav barked gruffly.

“…and so I’ll say it now… Thank you,” Russ managed forcefully. Mav looked slightly appeased. “But I need to go out on my own. I need to get out there, and start living for me again.” Russ insisted.

Mav considered his friend for a long time. “Russ, when I found you, you had hit bottom, and you were digging. You had me worried. That’s not the Russ I thought I knew.” Russ was silent, waiting for Mav to continue. Finally, after a long pause, he did. “There is a starbase a few days away. I can’t take you back to Earth; you’ll have to hitch a ride back.”

“Thank…”

“And if I ever find you like that again, you won’t have to wait to suicide; I’ll put you out of your goddamn misery myself,” Mav growled.

=====

Scene: Russ’s quarters
Time Index: Present Day

His computer beeped with an incoming call, bringing Russ out of a depressed revere. He sighed, annoyed. Who the heck was calling him now? Russ paused, considering that question for a second. Who the heck knew he was hear? He hadn’t contacted his family quite yet; he had wanted to surprise them with news that he was back, and in Starfleet. Now, what to tell them instead had been occupying his thoughts.

The computer beeped again. Curious, Russ moved over to the computer and checked the sender data, and was surprised to see official communications data come across his screen. Someone pretty high up was calling him. He accepted the call.

“Hello?”

“Mr. BaShen, Starfleet has received your appeal, and my office has been assigned your case. Would you be willing to stop by this afternoon?”

=====

Scene: An Admiral’s Office

“You have a very interesting record here, Mr. BaShen,” the older man intoned. He gazed at the information in front of him. “I can see why there was an issue with your application… Alcoholism? Fighting? And insubordination… oh my my…” The admiral’s eyes scanned further, and an eyebrow raised. “And association with the essentialists? While I see that you had no knowledge of their more… extreme activities, this certainly does not help your case…”

The admiral set the PADD down, examining Russ. “Mr. BaShen, in cases like this, the matter is simple, cut and dry. Starfleet is seeking the best of the best. In light of recent political currents and downsizing, even a smudge on your record is enough to raise a few eyebrows. Your case, I’m afraid, is out of the question under the current circumstances.”

Russ felt his heart sink. He had been strung along to an appeal interview only to have the door slammed in his face again? He gritted his teeth. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, ch’Faila’s endless taunts and insults came back to him… and a warm glow in his core seemed to ease his anger. Russ shook his head. “I understand Sir. I can’t say I’m not disappointed, but… I am learning to make the best with what I have. I am sorry for taking up your time.” Russ stood to leave.

“Sit down, young man.” Russ, surprised, sat back down as the admiral stood up and paced behind his desk. To his astonishment, the admiral reached up and took his badge off his chest, setting it down on his desk.

“Between you and me, Mr. BaShen, I don’t much care for ‘current conditions…’ it’s an excuse to keep good men away from service,” the admiral whispered conspiratorially. Russ felt as if he had been transported to a surreal universe. Was this a second chance? As if reading his mind, the admiral smiled warmly. “I could lose my job for this… if I wasn’t so damned important,” he chuckled, “but damn it, I happen to believe in a little thing I call redemption.”

The admiral approached Russ. “Welcome back to Starfleet, son.”

Russ was in shock. He stood and grabbed the admiral’s proffered hand. “Sir, thankyousomuch, youdon’tknowhowmuchthismeansto…”

“Slow down there son,” he chuckled. “I haven’t even got to the good part… if you’re interested, that is…” Russ waited, wonderingly. The admiral cleared his throat, and handed Russ another PADD. Russ’s eyes widened as he read the name [[USS DISCOVERY]] displayed in bold letters. The same NCC, the same specifications, and… the same position. Flight Control Officer.

“I… of course I accept!” Russ stammered. “I… man, I wish I even knew how to thank you!”

The admiral laughed. “All in good time, son, I’m sure you’ll find a way someday, just serve well and serve proud.”

Russ nodded vigorously. “I will! Sir! I will Sir! I… hell, I’m sorry sir, I don’t even know your name.”

The other man smiled and clapped his hand on Russ’s back. “Get going, you don’t be late for your assignment.”

“…And it’s Edgerton,” the admiral added, as Russ walked out. “Admiral Edgerton. I look forward to great things from you…”

=====

NRPG: HAH!!



Christopher B. Del Gesso

Posting As

LtJG Russ Gerodi BaShen
Flight Control Officer
USS Discovery