The End of the Beginning

Posted on Fri Mar 13th, 2009 @ 11:04am by Captain Elsie Halliwell

1,117 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Citadel Prime
Location: Lane's Personal Quarters
Timeline: Current

Commander Lane sat on the plush bed in his quarters with his daughter stood before him facing away from him in between his separated, strong legs. As he scraped her long, phoenix hair over her ears and bunched it together with his left hand at the back, he reached for the enamel hairbrush with his right and began to lightly drag its teeth through. The fiery strands cascading from the top of her head glistened, almost, with a silken sheen as the teeth cut through them lengthways. The sweet and familiar smell of sugar and cherry-blossom filled his nose from her scalp as he gently brushed.

"What colour?" he asked softly.

"Daddy," she replied with a childish lilt. "What colour are my eyes again?"

"Green, kid. Like your mother's," he replied kissing her on top of her head.

"Then I want the green one," she said, smiling.

The Trill, still clutching her soft strands of hair, leant over to the dresser and plucked out the royal green ribbon from the open drawer. The smooth fabric billowed through the air as he whipped it across to his lap. As he gathered the rest of her hair together, the intercom sounded and the voice of his Yeoman reverberated around the bulkheads.

=A= Andrews to Lane: You have a subspace communiqué from Trill, sir. =A= he said, almost timidly.

Tapping his combadge that was clipped to his chest with his free hand, he replied, "Is it important, Ensign?"

=A= Sir, it's from the Symbiosis Commission. =A=

A wave of unfettered emotion fluttered through the vacant belly of the Commander. Stammering, almost, Lane replied, "R-Right, Mr. Andrews. Um - Thank you. Could you, uh, patch it through to my personal quarters?"

=A= Aye, sir, =A= he replied.

Looking about the room frantically, Lane called out to their dear governess. "Mrs. Gray? Nana Gray, are you there?"

Appearing in the doorway, the whippet of the woman, dressed in a brown, tweed dress and with her silvering hair stapled back into a neat bun, smiled. "What is it, child?" she asked, with a trace of concern. "Is everything all right?"

Speaking rather quickly and disjointedly, the Trill replied. "Yes, Nana, it is, don't you worry. I-I have something to attend to, so could you..." He lifted the gathered hair and ribbon emphatically to the old woman as a gesture.

"Yes, of course," she replied, moving her cool hands over his as she grasped the red flow of Rory's locks.

"Thank you," he replied as he got up from the bed, hinging himself out awkwardly from behind his daughter.

He turned and began to stride across his bedroom to the open-plan space of the living quarter.

"Colt?" Yvaine called out as she raised her open palm in front of her. "The ribbon?"

Turning in a haze, quickly, the Trill spun on his heel and, barely looking at the older woman, said, "Sorry, Nana. It should be on the bed beside you."

As the Trill left the bedroom, he did not see Yvaine patting down the sumptuous bedding in search of the elusive tie with her wrinkled hands. Suddenly, the strong frame of Lane appeared in the doorway he had just passed through, smiling, and holding out the emerald green fabric in his hand.

"Sorry, Nana. Here it is," he said, walking back into the bedroom and over to the two women in his life.

Nana Gray chuckled to herself and harvested the ribbon from the Commander's hand, turning her soft voice to the child in front of her. "Your Daddy would forget his nose if it wasn't fastened to the button on his face, you know?"

Lorelai giggled like the child she was and the sound of it filled the air like notes of crystalline music.

Turning back around, the Trill once again made his way through to the living area. As he entered, he searched for his communication console with his blue eyes, sat heavily down in front of it, and then activated the view-screen.

The logo of the Federation of Planets on the screen was then replaced by the image of a female Trill with dark hair and pronounced patterned markings, like Lane's, running from the side of her forehead and down her neck. Behind her was the Symbiosis Commission's insignia on the grey wall of a sparse, yet lavish office. The Trill was sat, presumably, at her own desk, with her brown chair backing rising up to support the square of her shoulders. It looked like it was upholstered with antique leather; cracked and worn with age, and yet it possessed a regal and almost historical quality.

"Commander Lane?" she enquired, confidently, while she sat in her white over-coat with an almost serious look plastered onto her alabaster face. "I am Doctor Eleri Elde, a member of the Trill Symbiosis Commission. How do you do?"

Lane sat there, intimidated slightly, but unusually relaxed. It had been quite a while since he had had direct dealings with the Commission itself and as formal as the situation concerning the call was, the Commander felt almost at home in her company.

"I am very well, Doctor. Thank you. How can I help you today?"

If Commander Arkham had taught the Trill anything in the short time they had been in service together, it was to never show your hand until you were called for it. And Lane did not want to remotely let on to the Doctor anything of his emotions at this time.

"It is concerning Altir Kerr, Commander Lane."

The name she spoke sent a lightening bolt to his heart as the blood rushed to his head, blurring her image on the screen for a brief spell.

"Altir, Doctor?" he stammered, attempting to regain his composure.

"Unfortunately, his health is deteriorating rapidly and he has asked for me to contact you regarding your arrangement with him."

The Commander simply closed his eyes respectfully. "How ill is he, Doctor?"

The grave face of the Trill before him, like his own, gave away nothing but the words she spoke.

"He doesn't have long, I am afraid, Commander Lane. A month, at best."

"Doctor Elde, I will travel to Trill as soon as I can. I'm caught up in the middle of my own affairs currently, but Altir will understand that. Give him my best and tell him not to worry. Our arrangement still stands. He should take comfort in that."
The Doctor simply nodded as if the answer laid before her was to be expected. The image of her face cascaded downwards and the screen was once again displaying the image of the UFP.

And so it begins, he thought to himself.

 

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