...And Everything In Its Place

Posted on Sun Feb 19th, 2017 @ 1:29pm by erie'Arrain Eilaea t'Keirianh

Mission: A Call To Arms
Location: IRW Rovaran, Deck 4,-A-82
Timeline: MD02 2100


All things considered, it took Eilaea rather less time to unpack the large grey duffel holding her personal effects that she had earlier simply tossed on the bed before heading to the gym than it had taken to unpack the bags of items for her office. New uniforms acquired from the quartermaster aboard went in the small closet, along with her spare workout clothes, a silken sleep robe, and the one set of civilian clothes she had brought aboard in case a need for a less identifiable look ever arose. The shelf in the suite's tiny bathroom filled quickly with her comb, lotions, and other items; and the small desk/table in the main room with a trio of potted plants she gently unwrapped to thankfully find undamaged, from a tiny succulent to a beautiful blooming flower that added a splash of color to the room. A pair of framed images went alongside them, one of her parents and siblings from her younger years, the other a much more recent image of her husband and daughter taken only days beforehand.

The shelf built into the bulkhead near the door was the next order of business, filling with a variety of padds of reading and entertainment files and several old-style paper books as well; one of them had been passed down for generations through the family and had been gifted to her by her grandparents on her commissioning. It, and the cut-crystal jewel box she sat next to it which she had filled with her favorite teas, were some of the few tangible pieces of that history left anymore. Most of the rest of those she had possessed had been lost years ago on the V'rela, and the rest in the Hobus incident with most of the rest of her family...

---17 Years Ago---

The Dominion forces had outnumbered them, alone in their mission to gather data a potential new threat. But more than that, the whispered rumors that they had been upgrading their weapons of late appeared to have been true. She had been assisting in damage control near the Tal Diann offices; ever-aware of the data chips nestled against her chest inside her uniform...The fact that her superiors had chosen to distribute them, with the readings on the new Dominion weaponry stored on them that they had sold themselves dearly for, spoke as much as anything about the grave nature of the situation and the odds against the survival of the V'rela or anyone aboard her. It was one of the the last things Eilaea remembered aboard, in fact; save the sudden searing heat and noise of the sudden explosion of fire and debris and instinctively turning away and throwing an arm up to protect her face and eyes.

Her next memories were mostly a fuzzy, disorganized mix of moments; lights, and pain, and hands that she fought with everything left in her as they grabbed at her, determined she would not be taken alive by the enemy....voices speaking her own tongue with an accent too perfect to be any Dominion agent as they urged her to remain still and her everything faded to oblivion once more. An indeterminate number of days of a few clear recollections at all followed; only occasional moments of the sense of a hand lifting her head slightly and holding a cup to her lips to drink, or voices so slurred and distant seeming in her hearing she could not decipher them. Her first clear memory was those voices coming into focus at last with an accompanying increase in pain so strong she could barely bite back crying out at it, and blinking her eyes against harsh lighting overhead as she looked up into the face of the Tal Diann Master of the ship which had rescued her. Of course, she had thought at the time as he had introduced himself: He would need her lucid enough for a trustworthy report; and she had done her best to give it....

After that it was unclear again for her until memories of the sun of home on her fact through the window of the hospital she had been taken to, and opening her eyes to find her father by her side.

---Present, IRW Rovaran, Deck 4,-A-82---

....Finally, she spread a smooth, silky and decidedly not standard issue coverlet across the bed, a splash of icy blue against the greys and greens of the room overall and a small indulgence for this, her first private berth aboard a warbird. She reached over idly to rekey the access on the drawer near the bed where she could store her weapons and other equipment, and looked around the small room with a satisfied smile on her face: She had learned during the time they had first allied against the Dominion that there was a saying amongst the Terrhasu: "A place for everything, and everything in its place". It had seemed a strange thing to her at the time, coming from so seemingly chaotic a people. But it was not, she thought, running a hand appreciatively along the cool metal of the bulkhead and looking almost wistfully up at the stylized insignia adorning a spot high on the opposite one, only those things she had just now arrayed which had been put back finally into their proper place...She herself had as well. She supposed she had always known, deep inside herself from the time she was small, that no matter how she loved her world, her place to serve would not be upon it. No. Her destiny was to serve the Empire, D'era, and their destiny as they furthered it amongst the stars.