Absence Makes the Heart Grow
Posted on Sat Jun 28th, 2025 @ 1:42pm by Ziu'Liherasefra
Edited on on Sat Jun 28th, 2025 @ 5:56pm
Mission:
Remnant
Location: Personal Quarters, NX-05 Atlantis
Timeline: Day 410
1219 words - 2.4 OF Standard Post Measure
If she was honest, Hera hadn't been fully prepared for the loss of natural cycles. Day, night, hot, cold, wet, dry... Such were the rhythms her people obsessed over and, as such, the young Zui'ni had at least at one point in her life been fairly certain they didn't interest her at all. Rebellion was uncommon amongst her kind, especially from one of her standing, but she had never felt any differently. Isolation dragged her downwards, and the pastel purity of her homeland lacked the vibrancy she had come to crave once exposed to the potential beyond the weeping glades. On some very complicated levels, she missed aspects of it; people, certain places, the nostalgia of particular memories... Beyond that, the only regret that lingered was the loss of identity. Self-exile was a steep cost, even if she hadn't revoked anything she'd covetted all that much.
It wasn't always easy to outrun genetic birthright, however, and prolonged entrapment in an artifical environment might have taken its toll anyway had the complication of failed communication also not robbed her of the ability to express herself freely. Hera didn't begrudge anyone for the predicament she found herself in; it had been her choice and, if offered it again, she likely still would have accepted. Bouncing between nearby systems in her small craft had never held the same appeal as long-range exploration, and though the lodgings were cramped, the people were engaging. Generosity prompted Hera to believe they would have been patient with her even without the advantage of her Ziu'ni heritage and the current crisis certainly seemed to have brought out the best in most of them. They were stoic, she admired it about her new friends.
And then, there was Lottie.
The impulsiveness behind Hera's decision to join the crew, at least for as long as was possible, was almost entirely the young nurse's doing. Experience had added other incentive but there was no doubt that the young alien had stepped on board because she wasn't quite ready to say goodbye to her exotic lover. Their relationship at the time had been based so crucially on a whim that Hera had more than prepared herself for the eventuality of the other woman's disinterest. That hadn't happened, and though she felt obliged to admit she truly hadn't expected it, Hera found herself startled on a daily basis by how willing Lottie was to remain connected.
That, more than any other factor, had made the loss of language difficult. They had managed, in some fashion; the standard translation protocols weren't entirely useless, adaptive enough to have started some basic correlations, and the systems in her own ship coped even better, which at least allowed for some sort of disjointed conversation when they found time to sneak a moment or two. Use of her ship without the Captain's permission was not strictly forbidden but it was certainly not unconditional and a romantic tête-à-tête possibly didn't qualify as a valid reason. It was hard not to be frustrated, even if, as she kept telling herself, the permanency of natural fluency was preferrable to being forever reliant on technology. It wasn't in her nature to wait.
Neither was it in her nature to be silent.
Aside from her clothing and personal affects, the only thing Hera had brought from her ship's storage was her inuli. Though she spent more time in Lottie's quarters than the small space she'd been assigned, there was a time and place for privacy, particularly when their sleep schedules didn't align well. And it hardly counted as making noise in the middle of the night anyway because there was no night here; no day, no guarantee of sunlight to determine either way. The song she'd been working on hadn't started out with melancholy in mind but it had seeped in, and now she paused, instrument in hand, to frown down at the floor of her quarters. It was not a comfortable feeling, the gnawing realisation of lack of gratitude, or the understanding that perhaps a compulsion for momentum had driven her to take certain things for granted. It took her a while to place the feeling, mostly because it had been a long time since she'd experienced anything close to it, but eventually Hera lifted her head and switched her gaze to the far wall.
She was homesick.
Which was unfortunate because, not only was she on a ship pointed in the exact opposite direction, she had willingly denounced any ability to return home even if she had been in the vicinity. The throb of longing didn't last long before it was replaced by a yes, but reminder, which didn't necessarily change much except to highlight why she'd left in the first place. Perhaps a day would be pleasant, a week, a month... But eventually, the discontentment would return.
And yet...
The next plucked notes were a change in key, if not tone.
She woke unexpectedly to the sound of the intercom alert. What had started as a pause in the creative process to concentrate on the strange new revelation of nostalgia had turned into an unintended nap and the Ziu'ni sat bolt upright on the bed as disorientation set in.
Once again, for the third time, the intercom chirped.
"Yes." Her voice cracked, a little too accustomed to remaining silent these days, and Hera cleared her throat before trying again. "Yes, here."
The excitement in Lottie's voice was palpable, though Hera winced slightly, doing her best to keep the apology out of her voice as she cautioned, "Lottie, fast speak is like many rain. Be kindness."
The gushing apology was followed by a better attempt but, still, Hera remained bewildered. At best, it seemed the nurse was very excited, and it took some effort to discern the exclamation of 'they found fuel!' from the breathless news. If she was honest, Hera spent an overly long time mistaking the word fuel for fool and was mildly worried Lottie had cracked under the pressure of too many compromises but, eventually, realisation dawned, along with a bright smile to match.
"Okay, give me minutes. I will come."
It was funny how a change in fortune could shift an entire perspective. The success of the away team didn't directly impact the problem of gradually putting so much distance between herself and her birthplace that she would soon have to address the permanency of her current arrangement. It did, however, have the potential to eradicate a major frustration and there was power, when all was said and done, in being gifted back the ability to articulate in detail. Talking had always been Hera's way of making sense of things.
She left the inuli, secure in its case, atop the bed and ran her fingers through the indigo streaks that would hopefully lose some of their vibrancy by the time she joined the celebratory fray. A bright mind makes the path gentler. Her father's words, once a source of weariness, seemed poignantly apt for once. Nobody wanted her dragging in a sour wind.
Harness peace.
Hera sighed at her own reflection. She'd need to find it first.
