Unsaid

Posted on Tue Mar 24th, 2026 @ 2:08pm by Lieutenant JG Rowan Hale

655 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: Character Development
Location: Rowan's Quarters
Timeline: Following 'When the Noise Stops'

Rowan had retired to his quarters after Sarah had closed his terminal with quiet authority.

The hum of the ship felt louder here, less filtered by monitors and voices that were a constant reminder that systems endured even when the lives they sustained did not. The truth was, he had deliberately been avoiding his quarters for this reason.

The recent mission, being part of the away team and even Batel's death had been a welcomed distraction from the recent communique informing him of his ex-wife's remarriage which, along with everything else, was still lingering in the back of his mind.

"Computer, dim lights." he instructed, removing his jacket and placing it over the back of a chair.

He stood staring out the viewport for a few minutes trying to collect his thoughts before moving to the cupboard and glancing up at the storage case that sat on top of it. It had been sitting there since he'd come aboard the Sunfire, the same place it had sat on his last assignment. Eighteen months. Unopened.

He stared at it longer than necessary before finally reaching, pulling it down and moving over to the sofa. Inside were old memories, photographs, awards and the like; and two ring boxes. He reached for the one he recognised as his, slowly opening it. Inside lay his wedding ring, small and unremarkable.

Eighteen months earlier, Elara, his wife, had been standing by the viewport. "I can't keep doing this." she had said.

His memory shifted back to the moment. He remembered he had removed his uniform jacket that night too. That detail was more clear to him than Elara's expression.

"it's been an unusually demanding mission. It will settle." Rowan had responded.

Elara had laughed softly at that. Not cruelly. Just tired.

"You talk about our life like it's a system under review."

"It won't always be this way. It's been a difficult year," he had tried again.

"It's been four years, Rowan." She turned her back to him. Not in anger but in resignation. "It is this way. You don't come home. Not really."

"I am here," he had protested.

"You're physically present," she corrected gently. "But you're still scanning for alarms, waiting for the next emergency. You come home and you're still at work. Even when you're sitting right there," she gestured to the desk, "you triage everything. Dinner. Conversations. Us."

Rowan slid the ring onto his finger as he remembered the surge of irritation he had felt hearing her words.

"That isn't fair."
 
"It isn't meant to be," she said. "It's meant to be honest."

There had been a fragile pause. He could have spoken in that moment, filled it..

.. Stay.
.. I'll change.
.. I don't know who I am outside of being a doctor.

The thoughts raced through his mind but he didn't say any of them. Instead, he had answered the only way he knew how..

"This is my life. I won't keep asking you to compete with emergencies."

Her eyes had closed briefly at that.

"That's not what I wanted."

Rowan shook the memory from his mind as he flexed his hand once. He felt a mild tightening in his chest. It wasn't grief, just recognition. He hadn't fought for his marriage. He had called it inevitability. Compatibility. Timing. Whatever made it easier to accept.

He slowly removed the ring allowing it to linger between his fingers for a few moments before placing it back in the case, closing it and returning it to the shelf. The registry update hadn't wounded him. It had simply removed any illusion that there could be any kind of unfinished business between them.

He stood there for a moment longer, the silence of the room settling in around him. He turned away from the shelf and returned to the desk terminal.

"Computer, bring up Commander Dean House's genomic profile." he instructed, watching as the data began to assemble.

 

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