Guardians - Insights 3

Posted on Tue Oct 20th, 2026 @ 9:10pm by Captain Marie Batel & Patin

3,656 words; about a 18 minute read

Mission: Character Development
Location: Bajor

They had found Zio, longtime friend of Rhenora, Remal, Patin and Kira. She was a trusted friend who lived high in the mountains. Having returned to her roots, the amputee lived entirely off the land, killed her own game, grew her own food, educated her children to look after themselves in a galaxy that was constantly changing. Bajor was no exception, the Prophets were being challenged by the Wraith and the Brotherhood, the Federation kept the whole thing at arms length, not wanting to get involved. Typical.

The cabin door opened, spilling warm light across the rocky ground. Zio stepped outside with a heavy coat thrown over her shoulders, her artificial leg making a quiet, familiar sound against the stone as she crossed toward a sheltered firepit. A fresh kill lay across one shoulder, and she handled the weight with the ease of someone who had long ago learned not to expect the world to make allowances for her.

Patin watched her with a crooked smile. “Still doing everything yourself, then. Some things never change.”

Zio gave no indication that she had heard anything. The former Resistance fighter set about preparing her evening meal, working with the unhurried efficiency of someone who knew exactly what needed doing before the light failed.

“She always was stubborn,” Patin added, settling into the mist beside Marie. “You should've seen her when we were running around the woods together. That night the Wraiths thought killing Nozzie was a brilliant idea. Whole thing turned into an absolute mess. Mud, fire, people shouting, and I was there trying to explain that setting the forest on fire was a perfectly reasonable tactical option.” She paused, considering the memory. “Okay, fine. It probably wasn't reasonable. But it worked.”

The fire crackled as Zio eased herself onto a low stool. She glanced toward the cabin, where a small collection of belongings had been arranged near the door, then began cutting strips of meat with a well-used knife. “Your sister would have liked this,” she murmured to the empty air, apparently addressing someone inside. “Fresh meat, a roof over our head, and nobody telling me how to run my life.”

Patin's smile softened. “That's Zio. Never did take kindly to being told what to do.”

The woman worked in silence for a while, feeding pieces of meat onto a narrow spit above the flames. Eventually, she leaned back and looked toward the darkening mountains. “Your sister's probably learning how to tell other people what to do now,” she said with a quiet chuckle. “Military Academy. All that discipline and ceremony. I wonder how long it'll take before she decides the instructors are idiots.”

Patin snorted. “I'd give her a week.”

"If she's anything like this one, I'd give her a day" Marie laughed, revalling her own time at the Academy.

Patin turned to her with an approving grin. “I like you, Batel.”

Zio adjusted the meat over the fire. For a moment, her expression grew thoughtful. “She'll do well, though. She's got a good head on her shoulders. Better than mine was at her age, anyway.” She rubbed a thumb along the handle of her knife. “The galaxy keeps changing. Bajor changes with it. Better she knows how to look after herself than spend her life waiting for somebody else to make things safe.”

The words hung over the fire, weighted by years of occupation, resistance, and hard-won independence. “Although,” Zio continued, “I wouldn't mind if the galaxy gave us a few quiet years to catch our breath.”

Patin laughed under her breath. “Careful. Say something like that out loud and the universe takes it as a challenge.”

For a while, there was only the sound of the fire and the distant wind moving through the mountain pines. Zio turned the spit, then reached for a small pot beside her. Her son, early in the tooth, probably 15 stepped out of the cabin and sat across from his Ma. He was a strapping lad whose eyes never seemed to settle, as though he was waiting for someone, or something to emerge from the shadows.

“Something has been on my mind lately. That visitor we had a while back,” she said casually, as though the thought had only just occurred to her. “Or close enough to one. The woman who turned up hungry, trying to steal bread from our supplies, you remember her?”

Patin straightened slightly.

“Had the look of someone who'd been sleeping outdoors for weeks. Thin, exhausted, and watching everything like she expected the trees to start shooting at her.” Zio shook her head. “We had a short conversation about the difference between being desperate and being stupid.” A faint smile crossed her face. “She was desperate enough to take the bread, but smart enough to understand when she'd been caught. We let her keep it, remember? No sense turning a hungry woman into a corpse over a loaf.”

Patin glanced at Marie. “That sounds familiar."

Zio took the meat off the fire long enough to check it, then settled it back over the flames. her son spoke next. “I remember she was grateful. Polite, even. A little too careful with her words, if you ask me. Like every sentence had been weighed before she let it out.” He paused, remembering.

"You think the Wraith woman was here?" Marie's eyebrows furrowed with concern, putting the pieces together in her mind. "And if she was, do you think it was deliberate?" The implications were wild.

Patin glanced at Marie, her expression thoughtful. “I'd bet my second-best bottle of whiskey she was here. Deliberate, or not, is hard to say.” She shrugged, looking back toward the mountains. “The bigger question is where she went from here. And why.”

Zio's son leaned forward, his attention sharpening with the prospect of an adventure. “I've been thinking about following her trail. Maybe heading into B'hala. I heard they've uncovered a new section recently.” A mischievous grin spread across his face. “Who knows? Maybe they'll find some spooky spirits down there.”

Patin snorted. “Careful what you wish for, kid. Bajor's got a long history of things best left undisturbed.”

"You speak as though you've been through this a few times" Marie asked curiously.

“I'm full of good advice.” Patin paused. “Terrible judgment, maybe, but excellent advice.”

Zio chuckled as she checked the meat over the fire. “In the morning, then. I'll go with you.” She looked at her son, a fond smile settling on her face. “And maybe we can stop for some jumja-glazed buns on the way. They were good last time, weren't they?”

Her son brightened immediately. “Now you're talking.”

Patin watched them, her amusement lingering while her thoughts returned to the stranger. B'hala. The old ruins. A woman who had been starving in the mountains, yet seemed determined to keep moving toward something. “Looks like we've got ourselves a destination,” she murmured. “And breakfast might be involved. For once, this investigation is showing some promise.”

"Always about the food and the booze" Marie snorted as she conjured up wine and snacks for them both. "You forget the non-corporeal side of things these days" They started towards the ancient city of B'Hala, following Zio and her son as they made the trek through the rugged mountains, stopping here and there for food along the way. Always with the food.

The trees drifted past on either side of the barely visible trail, their branches interlocking overhead as the path wound through the rugged mountains. Leave it to Zio to avoid the main roads. Patin suspected the woman could find a route through a solid wall if she decided the front door was too crowded. A trait she admired.

She accepted the snack Marie had conjured and popped it into her mouth. “Of course it's all about the food and the booze. And if you're keeping track, the cigars and the things that go boom.” She chewed thoughtfully, then gestured with the remaining piece. “That's life, or at least it was. Hell, most of this is habit. We don't need to eat, sleep, or get up to other nocturnal activities anymore, but that doesn't mean the sensation stops being a pull.”

Patin's expression grew briefly distant as she followed the trail around a stand of pine trees. “Even now, I can still taste the honey-mead whiskey I was brewing before shit hit the fan.” A crooked smile returned. “It was coming along beautifully, too. Probably would have been the finest batch I'd ever made. Or the most explosive. With me, those aren't necessarily mutually exclusive, mind you.”

"But didn't you want to leave it all behind - including the spider things to start a new life? OR at least that what I thought you said" Marie mused as they followed the duo through the forest.

The trail climbed steadily, the trees thinning as the hillside rose toward a rocky crest. Ahead, Zio and her son slowed their pace, finally reaching the summit where the mountain opened onto a breathtaking view. They stopped to take it in beneath the early morning light.

Beyond the tree line, nestled in the valley below, lay the ancient city of B'hala. Its weathered stone structures rose from the landscape like the remnants of a forgotten age, their outlines softened by the morning haze. Even from this distance, the place seemed to possess a presence of its own, a quiet gravity that drew the eye and held it there.

Patin fell silent for a moment, studying the city. She glanced toward Marie, her expression settling into something more thoughtful. “Somewhere down there, our hungry 'friend' went looking for something.”

"Something - or someone?" Marie mused as they watched Faro explore the caves.

“Come on, Batel. Let's go find out what kind of trouble is being served up for breakfast today.”

"This place gives me the heebies" The human quipped, looking around the ancient city. The tunnel network beneath it was extensive and very old, having been used thousands of years ago for a variety of reasons. These days it was to keep things concealed, or protected.

Patin eyed Marie quizzically as they followed the others down the trail. “What are... heebies?” she asked, her boots moving from packed dirt onto the ancient stone beneath their feet. “Some sort of human medical condition?”

"Heebies...that gut feel that something isnt right that you can't explain. The hairs on your neck stand up and refuse to behave. Heebies" Marie stated matter of factly.

The trail opened onto the outskirts of B'hala, and Patin slowed her pace as the city rose around them. She had seen this place before, though never quite like this. Thirty thousand years ago, she and Marie had witnessed the city at a turning point in its history, when the conflict between the Prophets and the Wraiths had brought devastation to its ancient streets. Later, she had returned in spirit to another Bajor, a world under occupation, when she and Nozzie were young and the Resistance was fighting to keep hope alive. And now, here they were again.

The stones beneath her boots belonged to the present, weathered by centuries of wind, rain, footsteps, and forgotten prayers. Sunlight spilled over the old walls, catching on carvings whose meanings had outlasted the people who made them.

There was something peculiar about B'hala, something that reached beyond its age or the weight of its history. It seemed to occupy a point where time itself had grown tangled, where events separated by millennia could still feel close enough to touch. The city had witnessed the fall of powers, the rise of faith, and the stubborn persistence of people who refused to surrender their future. Its history did not simply lie behind it. It seemed to coil beneath the stones, waiting for the next turning of the wheel.

Perhaps that was why their paths kept returning here. Perhaps the city was merely where so many lives and choices had crossed. Or perhaps, in the strange currents of time, some places became more than landmarks. They became pivots, places where the past pressed against the present and the future waited just out of sight. She glanced at Marie. “Starting to think this place has a thing for us.”

"Maybe it's trying to tell us, or teach us something" Marir commented as they looked around. "Wouldn't be the first time." She followed Faro to the tunnels, tailing the woman until there was a stone wall before her at the end of a tunnel. Something man made, not natural rock

"What's this?" She asked Patin.

Patin shrugged. “Looks like a hidden underground passage. They were everywhere during the Occupation. We used them to smuggle people out of detention cells and tuck them away somewhere safe.” Her gaze followed the seam where the stonework met the surrounding rock. “Finding safe places was always the hard part, but there were people willing to help. There usually are, if you know where to look.”

She stepped closer, studying the wall. The stones were fitted together too neatly to be a natural formation, and the surface had weathered differently from the rock around it. Whatever lay beyond had been deliberately sealed. Patin tilted her head, her expression growing curious.

“This, though...” She brushed her fingertips over the stone. “This is a whole lot older than anything we used.” She glanced at Marie. “Can we maybe phase through rock like the cosmic weirdos we are?”

Without waiting for an answer, Patin pushed her arm toward the wall. Her hand passed through the stone as easily as if it were smoke, followed by her forearm up to the elbow. She wiggled her fingers on the other side, feeling around in the darkness beyond. Her brows rose. “Feels hollow in there." Her grin returned as she glanced at Marie. “Want to see what's inside?”

"Who am I to shy away from an invitation like that?" Marie laughed as she watched Patin morph through the wall. She had no idea what would happen if there was nothing but rock on the other side. Thankfully, a large room was on the other side. She lit the room with a torch, illuminating the glyphs on the walls and the altar on the far wall with a wooden cabinet underneath. The walls glowed with ancient Bajoran texts, adding a surreal feel to the whole thing.

"I think we may have found what she was looking for"

Patin stared at the room, taking in the glowing glyphs, the altar, and finally the wooden cabinet above it. She tilted her head. “What, she came all this way for some mankey-ass cave with a piece of furniture?” She gestured at the cabinet. “I've seen better furnishings in a Cardassian interrogation room.”

She wandered farther inside, her boots making no sound against the ancient floor. The light from Marie's torch washed over the inscriptions, and Patin paused to examine them. She could recognize enough of the old Bajoran script to know it was ancient, though the symbols seemed to shift in meaning the longer she studied them. Whatever this place had been, it hadn't been built to store somebody's spare blankets.

“Okay, so maybe the furniture has historical significance.” She glanced over her shoulder at Marie. “Or maybe Faro's developed a sudden interest in interior decorating. People do strange things when they're hungry.”

She turned back toward the cabinet, intending to give it a closer look. Then she stopped. Something called to her. It was faint at first, little more than a sensation at the edge of her awareness, like hearing her name whispered in a crowded room. Patin frowned and looked toward the far wall, then at the altar, searching for the source. The feeling persisted, quiet and insistent, drawing her attention back to the cabinet.

Her grin faded as she approached it. The wood was dark with age, its surface carved with markings that seemed to echo the glyphs glowing around the chamber. She could feel something beyond the physical object, a presence folded into it so deeply that the distinction between the book inside and whatever inhabited it seemed almost impossible to separate.

Patin had encountered the Wraiths before. She knew the particular wrongness of their presence, the way their influence could cling to a place long after the damage had been done. This felt familiar, and yet there was something different about it. The presence didn't snarl at her or press against her mind. It simply waited. 

She reached toward the cabinet, then hesitated, her hand hovering just above the wood. The pull strengthened. For a fleeting instant, she sensed something beyond the chamber, beyond the present, a future she couldn't quite see. A child. A destiny waiting to unfold. The impression vanished before she could grasp it, leaving only the certainty that whatever lay inside this cabinet had been waiting a very long time for someone who hadn't been born yet. Patin drew her hand back slowly.

"Waaaaait a minute, what is that?" Marie asked as the cabinet seemed to lure Patin towards it. Not that she was concerned with Patin's wellbeing- the woman could well and truly look after herself, particularly in their current form. But something was off.

She held her breath as the doors were opened, revealing a tome so ancient, it seemed to have come from history itself. Pages golden with age and its leather cover embossed with time, the glyphs on it's spine seemed to glow at Patin's approach.

"What the heck?"

An invisible barrier pushed Patin's hand away from the book, a subtle yet solid reminder that it was not there for them to interfere with.

"Can you read what's on the spine?" Marie asked, wondering just how profound this little book might be. As Patin stooped closer, the woman they were tailing emerged from the tunnel, the Wraith within having the power to manipulate the stones that controlled the hidden entrance.

Patin pulled her hand back, shaking it once as if she'd just touched a live power conduit. “Damn thing shocked me,” she muttered, giving the book a deeply offended look. She had barely finished speaking when movement stirred in the tunnel behind them.

“Wait up... here she comes.” Marie indicated.

Faro emerged from the darkness, and the sight of her made Patin's expression falter. The woman looked worse than she had in the mountains, her clothes worn and travel-stained, her face drawn with exhaustion. Strands of hair clung to her temples, and she carried herself with the brittle determination of someone who had been running on stubbornness long after her body had run out of strength. She looked toward the altar and the open cabinet as though she had finally reached something she had spent every waking hour searching for.

“Ma, Fa, and the baby Emissary,” Faro muttered to herself. The words were so quiet they might have been meant for her ears alone. She took another step into the chamber, her gaze fixed on the ancient tome. “The Ma. The Fa. The child...” Her lips moved around the words again, almost reverently, as if repeating them could make the promise real. “They were here.”

Faro moved closer to the altar. For one fleeting moment, she looked like a tired woman who had crossed half of Bajor in pursuit of a hope she scarcely dared to trust. Then she lifted her head. Her eyes glowed red.

The change was enough to make Patin's stomach churn. The exhaustion remained in Faro's face, but something else looked out through it, something old, patient, and pleased with itself. The presence within Faro seemed to recognize the scene before it, taking in the open cabinet, the book, and Patin standing beside it with one hand still held cautiously away from the tome.

A low, almost amused sound escaped Faro's throat. “So,” the Wraith said through her, its attention settling on Patin. “A Prophet has come to bear witness.”

Patin straightened and turned to face Faro and the presence within. The red glow intensified as Faro's gaze shifted to the book. The Wraith's amusement deepened, and for a moment its expression carried the satisfaction of a creature watching someone reach for a trap it had carefully laid.

“That is not for you.”

Patin looked from Faro to the tome. The strange pull she'd felt moments earlier stirred again, answering the Wraith's words with a quiet insistence. She could feel the presence inside the book, and now she understood that it was aware of her, too. “Funny,” Patin replied, her voice sharpening. “It certainly seemed interested in me a minute ago.”

“The book has a purpose beyond you. Beyond this moment.” Faro's lips curved into a smile that belonged to someone else. “It waits for the one who will inherit what is coming. The child who will stand between what was and what must be.”

The image of a child flickered through Patin's awareness again, accompanied by a sense of recognition that made her uncomfortable. She recognized the child's face, yet couldn't name the future she had glimpsed. Something in her knew the Wraith was speaking of a destiny still far ahead.

Patin stepped slightly away from the cabinet, though her eyes never left Faro's glowing red ones. “Right,” she said. “So the haunted book has an appointment, and I'm not on the guest list. You could've just put up a sign.”

The Wraith laughed softly through Faro, a sound without warmth. “You would do well to leave it untouched, Prophet of Chaos. There are things you cannot change. Futures you cannot alter. Promises that must be kept.”

Patin's crooked smile returned, although her eyes remained wary. “And Boom. You forgot the Boom, darlin'.” She straightened, fierce determination settling into her stance. “And one other thing you should know about me...” Patin glanced at Marie, then back to the Wraith within Faro. “I don't like being told what I can't do.”

TBC

 

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