Gaurdians - The Counter

Posted on Sun Oct 25th, 2026 @ 9:25pm by Captain Marie Batel & Patin

3,072 words; about a 15 minute read

Mission: Character Development
Location: Tunnels beneath B'Hala

Marie watched the interaction - Faro with the Wraith most evident within her, and Patin. The tome still remained untouched, whether it was guarded by the Prophets themselves or another force was unknown - it was for the Emissary alone.

Faro turned, having insulted Patin and turned to continue her exploration, knowing there was something else, a counter agent for the Book of the Emissary, something more powerful than the Kosst'Amogen. Something darker.

Faro appeared entirely unconcerned with Patin's defiance. She turned away from the altar and continued toward the far end of the tunnel, her weary footsteps carrying her beyond the reach of the glowing glyphs. Ahead, the passage curved sharply into darkness, its walls covered in a thin carpet of bioluminescent growth that cast a soft blue-green light across the ancient stone.

“Oy, where do you think you're going?” Patin called after her, thoroughly annoyed at being dismissed so casually. “We're having a conversation here, you rude little shit!”

Faro continued walking, and as she passed beneath the glowing growth, something peculiar happened. The soft green light nearest her began to change, deepening through shades of turquoise and violet before settling into an unsettling crimson. The transformation followed her movement, spreading along the walls and ceiling as though the living light recognized the Wraith inhabiting her body. Behind her, the colors gradually returned to their natural blue-green, leaving a slowly moving trail of red illumination in her wake.

Patin watched the phenomenon with growing suspicion. “Well, that's bloody unsettling.” She glanced at Marie before following. “Even the cave knows she's trouble.”

Marie for once was speechless. In all her years in Starfleet she had seen some unusual stuff, but this was right up there with becoming a guardian statue. Weird shit this was.

Around the bend, the tunnel narrowed before ending abruptly at a smooth wall of ancient stone. Unlike the rough surfaces surrounding it, this section had been carefully worked, its face covered in shallow carvings nearly obscured by centuries of mineral deposits. The bioluminescence had grown into the grooves, illuminating fragments of symbols that seemed to belong to an age even older than the city above them.

Faro stopped before the wall and raised a trembling hand. Her fingertips traced the carvings slowly, moving from one symbol to another with an almost intimate familiarity. She paused several times, pressing against the stone, searching for something specific. At last, her fingers settled upon a small glyph near the center, a symbol whose edges had been worn smooth by time itself. She pressed her palm against it and whispered a phrase in ancient Bajoran.

Patin's expression changed as the words reached her. The language was archaic, yet something in her expanded awareness understood it as clearly as if it had been spoken yesterday. “Open at my will,” she translated quietly.

A deep vibration passed through the stone beneath them. Dust sifted from the ceiling as the glyph beneath Faro's palm began to glow, its crimson light spreading outward through the surrounding carvings. Somewhere within the wall, an ancient mechanism awakened with a grinding resonance that seemed to travel through the mountain itself. The massive stone slab shifted. Slowly, almost reluctantly, it withdrew into a recess concealed within the surrounding rock, revealing an opening where there had been solid stone moments before.

Beyond lay a chamber unlike anything they had encountered so far in the tunnels.

Its walls were formed from volcanic glass, black and polished to an almost impossible smoothness. The surfaces curved upward into a high, vaulted ceiling, reflecting the crimson bioluminescence in fractured patterns that moved across the darkness like embers carried on an unseen wind. Veins of deep red ran through the obsidian, some as fine as threads, others broad enough to resemble rivers of fire trapped beneath the glass.

The floor was equally remarkable, a seamless expanse of dark volcanic stone interrupted by concentric rings of ancient Bajoran script. Each inscription had been carved with extraordinary precision, its edges catching the red illumination and casting it back in faint, shifting reflections. Along the walls, towering columns rose from the floor, their glossy surfaces resembling great pillars of frozen flame. Within them, crimson inclusions shimmered as though the fires that had once forged the chamber still burned somewhere deep inside.

Even the air seemed different. The chamber held a peculiar stillness, an oppressive quiet that made the grinding stone behind them sound distant and insignificant. The red light continued to spread across the glass, illuminating one surface after another, gradually revealing the immense scale of the hidden space.

Patin stepped closer to the threshold, her earlier irritation giving way to genuine astonishment. “Well, shit...” she murmured, staring into the chamber. “Someone went to an awful lot of trouble to hide this place.”

She glanced toward Marie, then back into the crimson-lit darkness. “And I've got a feeling they weren't hiding their good china.”

"For every action there is an equal and opposite action. For every good book there's its counter book out there somewhere. The universe loves balance" Marie mused as they followed into the vast chamber, awestruck by its volume and scale. "Get the feeling the bad voodoo is about to go down?"

Patin looked over at Marie, considering. “Bad voodoo? We're standing inside a mountain that's been decorated by someone with a serious obsession for fire and brimstone. I'd say the bad voodoo's the least of our worries.” She gestured toward the polished black walls. “Although I will admit, whoever built this place had a bloody impressive sense of style.”

Her attention returned to Faro, who had begun making her way toward the center of the chamber. The woman's footsteps echoed faintly across the obsidian floor, each one carrying her closer to a raised stone dais surrounded by concentric rings of ancient Bajoran script. The platform rose from the floor like a piece of the mountain itself, its dark surface polished smooth and veined with the same deep crimson that threaded through the surrounding walls.

Resting upon the dais was a book. Its cover seemed to have been fashioned from something darker than leather, a material that absorbed the surrounding light rather than reflecting it. The edges of its pages shimmered with a faint reddish hue, and intricate symbols had been pressed into its surface, their shapes subtly different from those adorning the Book of the Emissary. Where the earlier tome had possessed an ancient, almost patient presence, this one seemed to radiate an unsettling anticipation, as though it had been waiting for this particular moment.

Patin studied it with growing unease. “There's your opposite reaction,” she murmured.

Faro reached the dais and stopped. Her shoulders rose and fell with the effort of breathing, and for a moment the exhaustion beneath the Wraith's influence showed through. She stared at the book with an expression caught between reverence and longing, her trembling fingers lifting toward its cover.

As her hand approached, crimson electricity sprang from the book. Thin tendrils of red energy stretched upward, branching through the space between Faro's fingertips and the ancient tome. The arcs twisted around one another, illuminating the chamber in violent flashes that danced across the volcanic glass. The concentric inscriptions beneath the dais began to glow, their light spreading outward in widening circles.

Patin took a step forward, her instincts urging her to intervene, but something in the energy caught her attention. The crimson tendrils seemed to move in several directions at once, each following a slightly different path before converging upon Faro's outstretched hand.

Then the chamber shifted. For an instant, Patin saw the obsidian walls stretch into impossible distances, their reflections multiplying until the room appeared to contain countless versions of itself. Faro stood at the dais in one, knelt before it in another, and in a third the chamber lay empty beneath a thick layer of dust. The images collapsed together. And Patin found herself standing beneath a darkened Bajoran sky.

The familiar mountains surrounding B'hala rose in the distance, their silhouettes outlined by a dull crimson glow that stained the horizon. Ash drifted through the air like falling snow, settling upon streets that Patin recognized from her mortal life. The city was strangely quiet, its buildings intact but its windows dark, its public squares deserted except for figures gathered around a raised platform.

At the center stood a young Bajoran girl. She could have been eight or nine years old, perhaps a little older, with darkened blonde hair, like ash, falling loosely around her shoulders and delicate ridges framing a face Patin knew far too well. There was something of Rhenora in the shape of her eyes, something of Remal in the determined set of her jaw. The resemblance struck Patin with such force that she felt an almost physical ache. “Patina...?”

The girl turned toward her. Her eyes glowed red. Patin felt the recognition twist into horror. The child wore ceremonial robes embroidered with ancient Bajoran symbols, their crimson threads catching the unnatural light. Around her neck hung an ornament bearing a design Patin had seen carved into the volcanic glass beneath B'hala. The girl's expression was composed, almost serene, carrying a confidence that seemed far too old for someone so young.

Beside her stood Faro. The woman looked transformed. Her face was healthy, her clothing clean, and her hair carefully arranged beneath a simple Bajoran head covering. One hand rested affectionately upon Patina's shoulder, her fingers occasionally brushing the child's hair aside with the practiced tenderness of a mother.

Patina leaned into the touch. That small gesture disturbed Patin more than the glowing eyes. She knew what it meant to love a child, to protect one, to offer comfort when the universe seemed determined to take everything away. The tenderness between them looked genuine, familiar, and utterly wrong.

Faro bent toward the girl and whispered something Patin couldn't hear. Patina smiled up at her, then turned toward the assembled figures. The crowd knelt. Hundreds of Bajorans lowered themselves to the ground, their faces illuminated by the crimson light spreading across the sky. Some wore the robes of religious devotees, while others carried the scars and weathered clothing of ordinary people. Their expressions held a mixture of reverence and fear, and as Patina raised one small hand, the murmuring voices fell silent.

Beyond the gathering, the great spires of B'hala shimmered beneath a sky that seemed to be burning from within. Red lightning flickered between the clouds, illuminating vast shapes moving through the darkness above the city. Patin could sense their presence, ancient and hungry, spreading outward across Bajor like a shadow cast by something immense. The Wraiths.

Their influence touched everything. The air, the stone, the people kneeling before the child. Even the distant mountains seemed to carry the weight of their presence.

Patin tried to move toward Patina, but the distance between them refused to close. Every step carried her through another glimpse of the same terrible future. She saw temples filled with crimson light, Bajoran families gathered beneath banners bearing unfamiliar symbols, and children being taught to kneel before the image of the young Emissary.

She saw Patina standing beside Faro again, laughing at something the woman had said. Then the child looked directly at Patin. For one impossible moment, the crimson light in her eyes flickered, revealing the familiar warmth beneath.

“Auntie Patin?” The words struck with devastating clarity. Patin reached toward her, desperate to close the distance, to take the girl by the hand and pull her away from the woman standing beside her.

The vision fractured. Crimson lightning split the sky, and the gathered crowd dissolved into streaks of light. The city folded inward, its streets and towers collapsing into the polished reflections of the underground chamber. The ash became dust, the distant thunder became the faint crackle of energy, and the child vanished into the darkness between one heartbeat and the next.

Patin staggered as the present returned. The obsidian chamber stood around her once more, its walls reflecting the crimson glow from the dais. Faro remained before the ancient book, her hand suspended within the branching tendrils of red electricity. Marie was nearby, and the entire vision seemed to have passed in little more than an instant.

Patin stared at Faro, her expression hardening as the terrible images settled into memory. She could still see Patina's face, the innocent smile, the red eyes, and the way she had leaned into Faro's affectionate touch. Whatever future the book had shown her, the possibility of that child being raised beneath the influence of the Wraiths was enough.

She stepped forward, placing herself between Faro and the dais, her gaze fixed upon the woman and the ancient power reaching for her. “That's far enough,” Patin said, her voice low and fierce. “I can't let you take that.”

Marie hadn't borne witness to the vision, but could very clearly see the aftermath of it. Whatever had happened it had been for Patin alone, yet the energy in the room had so very clearly shifted.

"You can't stop me, your precious Prophet's won't let you" The Faro/Wraith turned and eyeballed Patin squarely. "The future begins now, the end of all that has been, the birth of the New Bajor awaits"

Patin regarded Faro with a look of growing irritation, her eyes narrowing as the Wraith spoke of the future as though it had already been written. “You know, I've met an awful lot of people who thought they knew exactly how things were going to turn out,” she replied, advancing toward the dais. “Most of them ended up being very wrong.”

She reached for Faro's arm, intending to pull the woman away from the book before her fingers could close around it. Her hand struck something solid, an invisible resistance that sent a ripple of pale blue light across the space between them. Patin recoiled slightly, more surprised than hurt, and stared at the shimmering distortion surrounding Faro. “Oh, fuck off.”

She pressed her palm against the barrier again, feeling it push back with a strength that seemed to come from everywhere at once. There was something familiar about the energy, something she had experienced within the Celestial Temple itself. The Prophets were holding her back, preserving the delicate balance of events unfolding before them. Their insistence upon maintaining the proper course of time was unmistakable.

Patin glanced upward, her expression turning thunderous. “Oh, so now you lot decide to get involved?” The resistance strengthened as she leaned into it. The blue light spread beneath her palm, forming intricate patterns that reminded her of the currents flowing through the Temple. She could feel the collective will of the Prophets pressing against her, urging restraint, demanding that she allow events to proceed according to whatever grand design they believed necessary.

Patin planted her boots against the obsidian floor and pushed harder. “No one...” she grunted, forcing her hand another fraction forward. The barrier flexed, sending a tremor through the chamber as the crimson veins within the volcanic glass flickered in response. “Tells...”

The pressure intensified, and for a moment Patin felt the immense weight of the Celestial Temple bearing down upon her. Countless possibilities flickered at the edge of her awareness, futures branching and collapsing as the Prophets struggled to preserve their carefully maintained order. “Me...”

Her expression twisted with determination. She thought of Patina beneath that burning sky, of the child's glowing red eyes, and of the way she had leaned so trustingly into Faro's embrace. She thought of Nozzie and Remal, of the family they had fought so hard to build, and of the future someone intended to steal from them. “What I...”

The blue barrier began to fracture, fine threads of white light spreading outward from her palm. Patin leaned forward with everything she possessed, drawing upon that unpredictable spark which had earned her a place among the Celestial beings in the first place. “CAN'T DO!”

The barrier ruptured. A brilliant flash of blue-white light swept across the chamber, scattering reflections through the polished obsidian. Patin's hand surged forward and closed around Faro's wrist. The contact sent a tremendous pulse through the room. Crimson and blue energy collided, racing along the concentric inscriptions beneath the dais and climbing the towering columns in spiraling waves. The entire chamber resonated with a deep, rolling vibration that seemed to reach into the mountain itself.

Faro's eyes widened. For an instant, the Wraith's crimson gaze flickered, and the world around her changed. She stood beneath a clear Bajoran sky, the warm light of afternoon falling across a garden filled with flowering trees. A teenage girl stood nearby, her ash-blonde hair moving gently in the breeze. Patina had grown tall, her Bajoran ridges framing a face that carried the familiar features of both her parents. Her eyes were bright and clear, filled with the confidence of someone who had grown up surrounded by love.

Beside her stood Rhenora, older now, with the quiet strength of a mother who had watched her daughter grow into a young woman. Her hand rested affectionately upon Patina's shoulder as they shared a private smile.

Then a smaller figure darted into view. A little girl, only a year or so younger than Patina, hurried across the garden and caught her older sister's hand. Her hair was unruly, her grin mischievous, and her face bore such a striking resemblance to a younger Patin that the likeness was almost absurd. Even the defiant tilt of her chin seemed inherited from the Prophet of Chaos and Boom herself.

Patina laughed and squeezed her sister's hand, drawing her closer. Rhenora watched them with a fond expression, the three of them standing together beneath the gentle warmth of Bajor's sun.

There were no crimson eyes, no kneeling crowds, no Wraiths darkening the heavens. The girls belonged to a future shaped by family, affection, and the ordinary freedom of choosing their own paths. And in that future, Faro stood apart from them.

The image trembled, then dissolved. The volcanic chamber returned in a rush of crimson reflections and fading blue light. Patin's hand remained firmly wrapped around Faro's wrist, the last remnants of the shattered barrier shimmering around them.

The Wraith had witnessed a future in which its promised New Bajor had never come to pass. Faro, too, had seen it. "That... that's not possible."

Patin just smiled, "Story of my life."

TBC

 

RSS Feed