Those We Carry With Us

Posted on Wed Jul 8th, 2026 @ 3:04pm by Remal Kajun

1,399 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Character Development
Location: USS Sunfire
Timeline: Current

The transporter deposited them aboard the USS Sunfire with the familiar shimmer of blue light and the equally familiar hum of a starship returning to life around them. Fiji disappeared in an instant, replaced by polished deck plating, recycled air, and the steady heartbeat of the warp core beneath their feet. It felt strange how quickly paradise became memory. The warmth of the island still lingered upon their skin while Starfleet quietly settled itself back over their shoulders like a well worn uniform.

Rhenora's transformation happened almost immediately. She offered him a lingering kiss, squeezed Patina's tiny hand, then glanced toward the corridor where duty patiently waited for its Captain. The softness that Fiji had coaxed back into her remained in her smile, yet command had already reclaimed her posture. The ship required its Captain. The crew deserved her full attention. She met Remal's eyes for one lingering moment, sharing an understanding that needed very few words, before disappearing down the corridor with purposeful strides.

Remal watched until the doors closed behind her. He smiled to himself, quietly grateful that beneath every rank pip and every impossible decision, the woman who had laughed barefoot across a Fijian beach and swam in the warm still waters in the buff, still existed. She simply carried Captain Kaylen a little more often than she carried Rhenora.

Patina tugged insistently upon his hand, eager to continue whatever grand adventure the day still held. Together they wandered through the familiar corridors toward their quarters, passing officers already immersed in preparations for departure. Greetings were exchanged. Smiles returned. The routine resumed with practiced ease. Somewhere deep within the ship, docking clamps disengaged with a muted vibration that travelled through the deck beneath their feet. The Sunfire was preparing to leave Earth behind.

Their quarters welcomed them with quiet familiarity. The room remained exactly as they had left it, waiting patiently for life to resume within its walls. Remal unpacked slowly, taking more care than the task required. Uniforms found their place within the wardrobe. Folded shirts from Fiji carried the faint scent of sea air despite their journey through the transporter. One brightly patterned Hawaiian shirt lingered in his hands a little longer before he hung it beside the darker colors of Starfleet uniforms and Bajoran tunics. The contrast made him smile. Both versions of himself belonged there.

Patina proudly emptied the treasures she had collected throughout the week onto the floor with great ceremony. Smooth shells. Polished pieces of coral approved by conservation staff. A tiny carved wooden dolphin purchased from a market stall. Each object carried a story far larger than itself. Remal crouched beside her, helping arrange the collection upon a low shelf where she could admire it every day. The little paper umbrella from his mysteriously reappearing Bajoran Mojito found its place beside them. He chuckled quietly, still uncertain whether the Prophets possessed an unusual sense of humor or whether Patin simply refused to relinquish hers.

Eventually his attention drifted toward the transparent aluminum window overlooking the station. Earth floated beyond, wrapped in brilliant blues and swirling whites that never failed to inspire wonder. Starbase facilities bustled with silent purpose while shuttles moved methodically between docking bays like industrious insects surrounding an enormous hive. Humanity had reached the stars and somehow preserved the beauty of the world that had first taught it to dream.

His own reflection lingered faintly upon the glass. Peace had always seemed to exist somewhere beyond the next mission. Somewhere beyond the next crisis. Years ago he had built a cabin on Bajor with his own hands because he wanted Rhenora to possess a place where the galaxy could never find her. Fire had claimed it. Together they rebuilt every beam, every wall, every memory. Later, darkness arrived wearing different faces and different names. Brin. Faro. The Pah'Wraiths. Even that sanctuary had become another battlefield. The lesson had settled quietly within him long before he consciously acknowledged it. Safety belonged less to places than to people.

Next his thoughts wandered toward Patina. Their daughter remained blissfully unaware of the whispers that surrounded her birth and the expectations carried by others. To Bajorans she apparently represented prophecy, legacy, and possibilities stretching decades into the future. To Remal she remained a little girl who declared war upon splash pools, believed pineapple belonged beside scrambled eggs, and possessed an alarming talent for organizing other children into efficient command structures. He wondered what childhood truly looked like for someone the Prophets had already touched. Every parent wished to shelter their child from the weight of the universe. His greatest hope remained beautifully simple. He wanted Patina to spend as many years as possible believing the universe consisted primarily of family, laughter, curiosity, and bedtime stories.

Small hands pressed eagerly against the window. "Stars," Patina announced with complete certainty.

Remal smiled as though she had rescued him from thoughts that had travelled far enough. He lifted her into his arms and pointed beyond the station. "That," he said softly, "is Earth."

She studied the distant planet with tremendous seriousness, committing every detail to memory. Moments later the station began drifting away. Thrusters nudged Sunfire gently free before the stars slowly shifted around them. Patina leaned forward with wide eyes, utterly captivated by movement itself. Then the stars stretched into brilliant ribbons as the ship jumped to warp.

Patina gasped so dramatically that Remal laughed aloud. "Fast."

"The fastest," he agreed, kissing the top of her head while light rushed endlessly around them. For those few precious moments the future carried very little importance. Wonder filled the room completely.

Later, after introducing every stuffed animal to every shell collected in Fiji and constructing what appeared to be a highly sophisticated diplomatic summit across the living room floor, Patina settled happily into independent play. Remal prepared a mug of tea and lowered himself into the chair behind his desk. The familiar stack of counseling updates waited patiently within the computer, untouched throughout their holiday. Life aboard a starship never truly paused. People continued growing. Healing continued. New struggles quietly replaced old ones.

The first file that greeted him belonged to Rosa Coy. He smiled before opening it. Progress revealed itself through small victories that rarely announced their importance. Rosa had begun trusting herself more often than the voice carried within the symbiont. Confidence appeared between the lines of routine reports. Doubt still visited. Fear still lingered. Growth, however, possessed remarkable patience. Counseling rarely transformed lives through profound speeches. More often it resembled tending a garden. Gentle conversations. Honest questions. Quiet encouragement offered consistently until another person slowly discovered strength they had carried all along.

Perhaps that remained his purpose after all. Command protected lives through decisive action. Engineering preserved ships through ingenuity. Medicine healed bodies. Counseling tended the invisible injuries that accompanied every uniform aboard ship and abroad. Those wounds deserved every bit as much attention as broken bones or damaged conduits. People carried unseen burdens with astonishing courage. Helping them to shoulder those burdens continued to feel worthwhile.

Hours slipped quietly by. Reports became notes. Notes became recommendations. Recommendations became tomorrow's conversations. Outside the window, stars continued flowing endlessly beyond the hull while the Sunfire carried them toward the DS9 and whatever uncertainty awaited there.

Eventually Remal reached for his tea and discovered it had surrendered its warmth long ago. He sat back within the silence of his office and allowed himself one slow breath.

The work had occupied his hands. It had focused his mind. It had reminded him exactly why he continued serving despite every danger that seemed determined to find those he loved. The worry remained.

It rested patiently beneath every completed report, beside every hopeful thought of retirement, within every dream of quiet mornings beside a cabin on Bajor, and behind every glance toward the room where Patina played happily with shells gathered from a peaceful island now sectors away.

He understood something Fiji had quietly taught him. Peace did not arrive simply because fear departed. Peace arrived because love always proved capable of carrying fear alongside it. Like a small child wrapped in a blanket.

Remal straightened the stack of PADDs on his desk, smiled toward the sound of Patina's delighted laughter, and opened the next counseling file. One life at a time still felt like a future worth believing in.

TBC

 

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