Poppies: Blood Stained

Posted on Sat Jul 9th, 2022 @ 1:03am by Lieutenant Percival Bálor Ph.D
Edited on on Sun Jul 10th, 2022 @ 1:15am

1,307 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: The Bandits of Black Rain
Location: USS Ontario | Deck 11 | Chapel

Cleared by one of the physicians aboard, Percy was discharged from Sickbay though he had a delightful concoction of medications to take over the next few days and he would have to stop by routinely because ‘doctor’s orders’ were that he did so. Zero was clearly in much rougher shape than Percy had been, but that Borg ingenuity was excellent as repairing itself as best it could. The half-Tellarite teased himself by stating to the doctor that he had a tough skull, but the fact of the matter was, Percy still suffered a concussion from being thrown around the shuttle while the Klingon attack cruiser were firing at them. He barely could remember much about escaping the pursuing cruiser after he temporarily disabled their engines with some science and ingenuity. Truly though, it was Lieutenant junior grade Stone that deserved most of the credit. Her piloting abilities were exactly what was needed for them to recover the bodies from the debris field, and to escape the attack cruiser hot on their aft.

Percy had retired to his quarters for a bit, but his mind was anywhere but the present. Memories of his childhood and the fears of the future crept in as he discarded his torn and tattered Starfleet uniform, stepping into the sonic shower and without pause, activating the whirring sonic pulsations to remove the grime, blood, and sweat from his body. This was my fault he thought to himself. He had pushed and pressured to get clearance for this little away mission, all for what? Yes, there was importance in what he was doing even if the others cold not see it, but with everything that was going on, he had inadvertently led himself and two of his fellow officers into a situation that could very well had been their last if they had not been skilled and lucky.

His uniform has blood on it – Zero’s, but only some. He knew deep down that Lieutenant Zero was going to be fine, and that even the bruised and battered Lieutenant Siren was going to probably be back on her feet sooner than either of them. That still did not change how Percy felt though, the responsibility of this away mission rested on his shoulders. It was a failure in more ways than one. The vessel that he was supposed to rendezvous with? Destroyed. What did they find among the debris? It was clear evidence that another vessel, a Federation starship had been attacked and very well also destroyed. Whoever these ‘bandits of black rain’ were, they were deadly and precise with their attacks, and well suited to be harbingers of death. If it had been them that pursued Percy’s shuttle, then they had Klingon attack cruisers or at least one of them at their disposal.

The physician that treated him had given Percy clearance for ‘light duty’ only, and frankly, he did not really know verbatim what that really meant. It was like putting collar and leash on him and telling him that he was a Starfleet officer, but that he needed to take a few steps back for a while. No, he thought as he stepped out of the sonic shower and proceeded to fetch a change of clothing. I can’t be put on the bench right now. I need to be involved determined to be back on the bridge sooner rather than later. Normally, Percy would have been thrilled to lay low in the science labs, mucking about and creating some mayhem in his little sandbox of flora and fauna, but things were different now. Lives were on the line, and some lives of brave officers had already been stolen from families.

A white button up shirt with red poppies printed all about, Percy slid into a pair of ‘rock washed’ denim jeans, finishing off with simple socks and shoes. He wanted to be anywhere and yet nowhere at the same time. He just let his legs carry him and his mind shutdown, switching to autopilot. Though he had no set plans on where he was going to end up, he was startled when he realized a dozen or so minutes later where he was.

All the years spent running away from this, and here I am back where I always seek refuge he thought as he entered through the parting doors that emptied inward to a room that Percy suspected saw very few people. The ship’s chapel was a relic of the days of Pike and Kirk, multi-faith and non-denominational, it stood still as a room on larger starships like the Ontario. There were a few pews, some sajjāda, the Magen David, and some iconography from Earth, Bajor, Vulcan, Qo'noS, and other worlds scattered about.

Fortunately, there was not a booth to sit down and pour one's soul to the man on the other side, childhood memories that Percy preferred left distantly behind him. Percy was uncertain where to go or what to really speak to, but ultimately, he decided none of that mattered. What was important was that in this place - in this moment, the world around him stood still and this one room was a testament to peace and prosperity.

The Chief Science Officer plopped down upon a pew and laid down across the long cushioned bench on his back, gazing up at nothing. Were his father been present, Percy would have been berated for what he was doing, but his father was not here. Nobody was, and that alone time was important to him now more than ever.

Centuries had passed since humankind walked the planet earth, becoming sentient, and evolving, creating communities, belief systems, laws, nations, and eventually exploring the stars instead of the seas. It was not always peaceful out in space, and there were dangers beyond his wildest fantasies and most horrid nightmares, but no matter how much time past, no matter how evolved humankind or anykind had become, something grounded them - to some it was faith, to others something else, but it was almost always certainly a belief.

He lie there thinking about the three bodies that he had helped recover, and his mind sunk into the comfort of literature as he mumbled a recitation "A man can no more diminish God's glory by refusing to worship Him than a lunatic can put out the sun by scribbling the word 'darkness' on the walls of his cell" something C.S. Lewis had said in his writings.

Looking down at his shirt caused him to smile momentarily. As garish as it may have been, the poppies were a pleasant reminder of who he was. Poppies were an interesting flower in terms of their symbolism; Deaths were often remembered through the use of poppies as a way to express sacrifice and remembrance; however, poppies could also be symbolic of regeneration and imagination.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie...

He would remember this day for the rest of his life, it had been engraved in him once those bodies were located amid the debris. When he touched the Captain's hand and did not feel the warm of a soul, but the coldness of the abyss. They gave their lives, they made a sacrifice, but this had not been his day, and retreating here in the ship's chapel was for regeneration, not to give up, but to rise up.

Lieutenant Percival Bálor sprung to his feet and took a deep breath. It was in his namesake. They will pay for this he told himself and made his way through the small aisle, exiting the sanctuary rediscovering himself.

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