Hobble of Shame

Posted on Sat Jul 5th, 2025 @ 11:36pm by Ensign Mercy Mourne

Mission: Remnant
Location: Aboard an empty runabout
Timeline: 410
986 words - 2 OF Standard Post Measure

Mercy took a moment to settle into her seat aboard the runabout. It was cooler inside, and the gentle hum of the machinery made her realise she had missed the sounds of the Atlantis. Over the last year the quite background sound of their ship had become a soothing heartbeat. Here on the planet the first night it had been hard to sleep. Electronics and engines replaced with the sound of an ecosystem. She actually looked forward to returning to it. It was amazing how a torn ligament and a few nights camping could make one appreciate the comforts of the 22nd century.

She wanted to be home. The thought making her pause. There had been a time when Tycho City had been home. Where she had longed for the views over the Sea of Tranquility and her grandmothers singing while the woman performed some benile daily task. Now when she thought of home it was the Atlantis. She wasn’t sure when that had happened but this was the first time she had consciously noticed it. The thought made her feel oddly hysterical, and a bubble of laughter caught in her throat.

She needed to keep it together. It wouldn’t be good to be caught laughing to herself.

For the moment she had a minute alone. It was a rare phenomena, enough that she actually found herself a little uncomfortable with it. She looked to the ramp, hoping more would join her and they could be on the way. Outside she could hear the bustle of people loading the last of the equipment in the small vessel’s hold. She shifted in her seat, her ankle throbbing, reminding her why she had needed to be out of the way.

Useless. Currently she was deadweight. To make matters worse she was certain that word had spread. She couldn't be sure, but she had thought maybe she had seen some of the crew laughing as she hobbled over to the runabout. She also thought she had heard someone refer to her as 'Party Girl Mercy'. If that was true her hobbling up the ramp of the runabout was the saddest walk of shame there ever was.

She had never really done drugs. When others were filling their youth with shenanigans and regret she had been studying and working part time jobs to send money home. She was oddly disappointed that the first time she had really experienced something mind-altering it had been beyond her control. Made particularly excruciating for it having been in front of colleagues. At least she hadn't broken out into song. That might be a memory she could never live down.

In her current state she hadn't been able to do more than check equipment before it was loaded. Thinking of her previous task has her thinking of Darru, their conversation, and the number of questions it had raised. It was the bright spark of this whole visit. And that was after having discovered a plant based chocolate substitute. That alone spoke to the depth of feeling she had towards the man. There was a flush of something hot in her chest. How did one impress a Vulcan? And what kind of activity would be possible on the Atlantis for their first... meeting.

She let out a groan and buried her face in her hands. How was it possible to feel so excited and embarrassed at the same time? As she shifted her ankle throbbed and the pain helped her ground herself once more. Avira had done a good job wrapping her ankle for her. Honestly Mercy was sure the woman’s bandages might be all that were holding the thing together at this point.

The pain was a constant dull ache, punctuated by sharp, icy hot stabbing everytime she shifted carelessly or tried to bear weight on it. Useless. Deadweight. What a clumsy idiot. To try and distract herself she spent some time writing up a report for the Captain. Much of what had happened was a blur. At least the part after Madi left.

‘Ensign Moore behave impeccably. While I was unable to traverse through the ruins she risked her own life in order to seek help. I have no doubt I owe her my life.’

It wasn’t much, but it was the least Mercy could do after endangering the other woman. She then got to the section after. How did one officially report psychedelic hallucinations of a naked god?

‘Following ingestion of an unknown botanical which offered some relief, I was incapacitated. I cannot be sure but I believe Lieutenant Darru found an alternative route and carried me back to camp where our Chief Medical Officer tended to my wounds.’

Mercy winced. It wasn’t a pretty picture, and far less informative than her normal reports, but it would have to do. She could only hope her colleagues who had been involved were somewhat kind in their own paperwork. While she wasn’t sure she deserved it, she still held out a little hope.

She also hoped she would be able to process some of the data from the expedition. She had so many questions from this trip, but like the secrets of the temple and the civilisation that had once inhabited it, she suspected the answers may remain a mystery. Even with what they had found, she knew that to truly understand what had happened on this planet could have been a lifetime of study.

Just then she heard voices approaching, and boots hitting the metal of the runabout’s ramp. It seemed her batch were ready to leave. Adjusting her leg she tried to find a position that would allow space for other but also not aggravate her injury further. Then she laid the padd on her lap and fixed a polite smile on her face. Neutral expression in place she settled in for the trip home.