Forces of Nature

Posted on Tue Jun 9th, 2026 @ 9:58pm by Captain Marie Batel & Patin

2,559 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: Character Development
Location: Celestial Temple

The silence that followed was different from the silences that usually inhabited the Temple.

The mist drifted through the stars in slow currents while the timelines above continued their endless weaving, but there was tension hidden within the motion now. A current beneath the current. Something ancient drawing inward.

Patin saw it immediately. “Oh, don't start that,” she said, pointing upward. “You don't get to go all mysterious and omniscient after I finally ask the right question.”

The stars dimmed slightly.

The future remains in motion.

The future is not fixed.

The answer influences the answer.

Patin rolled her eyes so hard it was a wonder the Temple didn't feel it. “See? That's exactly what I'm talking about.” She threw both hands into the air. “Normal people answer questions. You lot answer entirely different questions and then act proud of yourselves.”

Marie watched the Temple almost huff with consternation, as though if it could physically pout it would.

The mist folded through itself. Timelines crossed. A thousand possibilities flickered and vanished.

The Rhenora is necessary.

The Rhenora must survive.

Continuity requires The Rhenora.

Patin's expression hardened. “No.” For once there was no humor attached to the word. “No more slogans. No more prophecy. No more cryptic cosmic bumper stickers.”

She jabbed a finger toward the stars. “You've been saying that for years.”

The Temple remained still.

Patin took a slow breath. “Tell us why.”

One of the Prophets took Rhenora's form, stepping out of the mist, clad in the traditional colours of Bajor, hair loose and free behind her.

"There is still much to achieve, there is another child, and another outcome destined for this one" The Rhenora replied as though answering the question and yet not at the same time.

"The Temple requires another Prophet at the conclusion of her tasks, one who has lived experience, one who is different from the others."

Marie breathed out, letting the air whistle as it passed her lips "That's one hell of a why"

Patin stared at the Prophet wearing Rhenora's face for several long seconds. Then she pointed. “See, that's an answer.” She pointed again. “It's not exactly what I asked, but it's a start.”

The stars shifted uneasily around the Temple.

Patin began pacing through the mist. “You need another Prophet. Great. Fine. Fantastic. Good for you.” She waved dismissively toward the heavens. “Try a recruitment poster.” Her eyes narrowed. “But that's not fear.”

The amusement vanished from her voice. “You weren't afraid when I asked about another child.” She pointed toward the Prophets. “You weren't afraid when you talked about another Prophet.”

Her finger lowered. “You only got afraid when we started asking specifics about Nozzie.”

The Temple grew still. Very still.

Patin stopped walking. “Those aren't the same thing.” Her gaze swept across the stars. “So I'll ask again.”

The mist tightened around the timelines.

Patin's voice softened. “Why her?”

The Prophet wearing Rhenora's face did not answer immediately. And somehow that silence felt far more dangerous than any answer.

A strand of DNA came up, spiralling slowly in the abyss; several markers highlighted. "This one is unique."

The scene changed again, showing several groups of aliens neither of them had seen before. "This one will be hunted for all her corporeal days; her uniqueness brings risk."

Marie brought a hand to her mouth as she watched a particular group plan the capture of the Sunfire Captain. She shuddered at their plans after said capture.

"This one needs a living protector, to ensure continuation," the Prophet continued.

"What of Remal, he lives for her?" Marie challenged.

"The forces against them are too great for him to stave alone," the Prophet replied. "Additional protection is required, and for the Emissary and the Challenger."

Patin frowned as she followed the spiraling strands of DNA through the darkness, watching the highlighted markers rotate slowly within the impossible model. Her expression shifted from suspicion to calculation as she pieced together what the Prophets were actually saying.

“Well, yeah,” she said after a moment. “Nozz has always been... unique.” The understatement hung there.

She thought about the Occupation. About the Pah-Wraiths. About the Brotherhood. About all the times entire organizations, governments, gods, and monsters seemed to develop an unhealthy interest in one stubborn Bajoran woman who mostly wanted to be left alone with her family.

Patin rubbed her jaw thoughtfully. “Okay. So.” She pointed upward. “Let's see if I'm following the cosmic flow chart here.”

Her finger moved toward one of the timelines. “The Emissary is little Patina, right?” she asked. “That's why we had the battle in the snow. That's why everybody nearly died saving one tiny Bajoran who hadn't even been born yet.”

The stars shimmered.

The Emissary is...

Patin's brow scrunched, and she nodded once. “Right. Thought so.” Then her eyes narrowed. Her finger shifted toward the Prophet wearing Rhenora's face. “Then who's the Challenger?”

For the first time since the questioning began, the Temple became utterly still. Not silent. Still.

The answer influences the answer.

The Prophet wearing Rhenora's face lowered her gaze. The answer did not arrive immediately. The stars above shifted through possibilities. Thousands of futures. Thousands of outcomes. None of them settled.

The Rhenora creates convergence.

Patin frowned. "That doesn't mean anything."

Many futures become one.

The Temple darkened around them.

Without The Rhenora, possibilities separate.

With The Rhenora, possibilities unite.

Patin folded her arms. "That's still not a reason."

The Prophet's expression remained unchanged, but something moved beneath the certainty. Something that looked suspiciously like hesitation.

The Rhenora creates those who stand between extremes.

The stars shifted. A child walking between Fire Caves and Temple. Another standing between faith and reason. Another standing between vengeance and mercy. Not choosing one side. Balancing both.

The Emissary. A pause.

The Challenger. Another longer pause.

And... other's yet unwritten.

Patin's eyes narrowed immediately. "That's it, isn't it?"

The fog tightened.

Patin pointed directly at the Prophet. "That's the part you're afraid of? So... no pressure then."

The Temple fell silent.

"Is it their fear, or could it be yours?" Marie prompted gently, still trying to wrap her head around this new development. She regarded the Temple around them. "From what I understand this is the most they have ever let on about their motives."

Patin's mouth opened immediately with the sort of reflexive denial that had carried her through most of her existence. “Me?” she scoffed. The word came too quickly. Too sharp.

A small lightning flickered somewhere beyond the Temple walls. It was just enough to betray her. Patin noticed it. Unfortunately, so did everyone else.

Her expression soured. “That's nothing, that's different.” The mist swirled around her ankles, carrying fragments of futures she had already seen. Futures she had deliberately stopped looking at.

“Them?” She pointed vaguely toward the Prophets. “They don't do fear. They do concern, cosmic anxiety wrapped in ten thousand layers of poetry and bad communication.” Her eyes lifted toward the stars. “The Pah-Wraiths scare them. The Pah'Vezda scare them. That's why they keep Emissaries around. Somebody has to be willing to walk into the fire while they stand back and contemplate it.”

The Temple remained silent.

Patin folded her arms tighter. Then her gaze dropped. “...Fear's different when you're finite.” The admission came quietly.

The stars dimmed around her.

“When 'they' worry about something, 'they' can step outside it. Look at all the outcomes. Study them.” She shrugged weakly. “When 'I' worry about something, when 'I' choose, 'I' have to live through whichever version happens.” A long silence followed.

Patin looked toward one of the drifting timelines. Not the guardian. Not the reborn child. Just a possibility. Then she exhaled slowly.

“Maybe the Temple feels different because I'm the one afraid.” Her voice carried more honesty than she probably intended. “Wouldn't be the first time this place reflected whatever idiot happened to be standing in it.”

Her eyes lifted toward Marie again, a faint smirk trying and mostly failing to form. “I'm just not thrilled that that idiot is apparently me.”

The Temple appeared to breathe again, as though collectively releasing the breath it had been holding whilst this moment unfolded within it. Revelation was always difficult when it was profound. It began to fold inward, closing the space to a comfortable area without being intrusive.

"Fear is one thing, but if you don't face it square on, it wins every time, you know this," Marie continued gently, giving Patin the time she needed to get over the last revelation. Apparently introspection was tough on the resistance fighter.

"The big question is - what are you gonna do about it?" The corner of her mouth curved upwards, almost in an unspoken challenge.

Patin looked away from the timelines entirely. Not toward the stars. Not toward the Prophets. Toward the place where Bajor would have been if directions still meant anything inside the Temple. There was no joke waiting behind her expression. “Facing fear head on was never a problem when I was alive.” Her voice came quieter than usual. “Cardassians? Easy. Assassins? Fine. Angry gods? Apparently still manageable.” One corner of her mouth twitched. “You point me at a monster, and I knew what to do.”

The humor faded almost immediately. “But this?” She gestured vaguely toward the scattered futures. Toward the guardian. The child. The endless possibilities between them. “This is different.”

The Temple listened.

Patin folded her arms across her chest, not defensively this time, but like she was holding something together. “Because whatever choice I make doesn't just happen to me.” Her eyes drifted toward one timeline in particular before she looked away again. “It happens to her.”

A long silence followed.

“I owe Nozzie everything, you know.” The admission came without hesitation. “She gave me purpose when all I knew how to do was survive. She gave me a family when I didn't think I deserved one. She kept choosing me long after any sane person would've told me to get lost.”

The mist around them softened.

Patin laughed once, quietly. “So yeah.” She rubbed the back of her neck and shook her head. “Getting shot at was simpler. Turns out caring about somebody is way more terrifying than dying for them.”

Marie softened, giving the other woman the space she needed. "Caring comes with risk, there's no bravado, there's no bullshit. Caring hurts, particularly when it's done right. That's what makes it so special." She paused for a moment to let the words land where they may.

"She cared for you, deeply. Still does considering she named her first born after you and carries your earring in her uniform pocket most days." The scene drifted to the moments of passion on the tropical island on Earth.

"Looks like they didn't mess about" she snickered, remembering the times she and Chris had tumbled.into bed after days, weeks or months without seeing each other for more than 5 minutes. Her heart ached for those times, they need so care free compared to the fate of the universe.

Patin followed Marie's gaze toward the drifting scene and immediately groaned. “Oh, come on.” She pointed at the vision. “Do they have any respect for privacy?” The tropical shoreline continued its existence with complete indifference to her complaint. “Apparently not.”

She watched it for another second before her attention drifted away from the timeline and back toward Marie instead. The joke died halfway to her lips. “You miss him.” It wasn't a question.

The Temple carried enough emotions already. Patin had spent years learning how to read the things people didn't say, and Marie's expression in that moment wasn't longing for a beach or a resort. It was longing for a person. Patin folded her arms and tilted her head.

" Terribly. He moved on after I..."She hesitated for a moment "After Vadia 9. He found love, she cared for him. Well, cared as in kept his tortured mind distracted until the end of his days after the accident. I don't know if I could have done better" Her eyes were downcast.

“Look at you.” A faint smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “The universe hands you godhood, infinite perspective, cosmic responsibilities, and you're still sitting here thinking about the guy you used to sneak away with.” She shook her head slowly. “That's actually reassuring.”

The stars shimmered softly overhead.

“Maybe that's why they're interested in people like you and Nozzie in the first place.” Her gaze wandered briefly toward the Prophets. “You get handed impossible choices and somehow still end up caring about the simple stuff.”

"Isn't that why we're alive? Well... most people, not us. We're not alive... but not dead. I don't know exactly what we are to be quite honest" Marie tried to pull herself out of her depressing spiral.

Then Patin smirked. “Though for the record, if I end up being conceived because those two finally got five minutes alone on a tropical island, I'm haunting everybody involved.”

That did the trick and a most uncaptainlike snort burst out before she couldn't stop it. "You are incorrigible!" She laughed, a full proper belly laugh that touched every fibre of her being.

"You get conceived, you be nice to her. No morning sickness, no aches and pains, no constant vomiting." Not that Marie had ever experienced though things herself, but one pregnant helmsman depositing her lunch on the bridge floor after evasive maneuvers was something Marie wasn't likely to forget in a hurry.

Patin barked a laugh and pointed a finger at Marie like she was issuing an official warning. “I offer no promises.” Her grin widened. “But for Nozzie's sake, I'll do my best.”

The tropical shoreline faded away, replaced once more by drifting stars and endless mist. Patin watched it go without much regret. Then she rocked back on her heels and tilted her head thoughtfully. “You know what I'll miss most?” Her eyes narrowed. “The alcohol.”

A moment passed. “Or maybe the way a T4 incendiary burns.”

The Temple flickered.

Patin held up her hands and a tiny spark appeared between her fingers. It crackled softly at first, orange and gold, then blossomed into a swirling knot of fire. The spark hissed and danced, feeding itself with impossible fuel. Tiny tendrils of flame curled outward in branching patterns while embers spun lazily through the air like fireflies.

“T4 always had this sound.” Her voice softened unexpectedly. The miniature blaze snapped and crackled rhythmically. “Like the universe was tearing paper.” The fire brightened. “Then everything got very simple for a few seconds, like nothing else in the universe mattered anymore.”

Orange light reflected in her eyes before she flicked her wrist and scattered the flames into a thousand glowing sparks that drifted upward among the stars. Patin watched them go. Her grin remained steady but it was gentler now, almost peaceful.

The Temple grew still. The mist unfolded around them like a long-held breath finally released.

A choice has been made.

The stars brightened.

The Chaotic One has chosen.

TBC

 

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