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A Stroll Down Memory Lane

Posted on Sun Oct 18th, 2015 @ 7:36pm by Major Delvok

Mission: Resurrection Day
Location: Quarters/Cardassian Prison Facility 19Beta/Bajor
Timeline: Post 'Space: An Emotional Frontier,' about 01:34H

Zera finished his fourth glass by the time he reached his quarters, the bottle of voodai about half empty. Punching in the code with his thumb, he stepped inside as the doors parted before they whispered shut. Abandoning the now empty glass in the replicator, the Bajoran began taking swigs from the bottle as he moved to take a seat at his desk. As Zera sat, he saw the images of the symbol in the shuttlebay still plaguing his computer.

He sighed. It's not always the job. A break from the investigation was well needed. He turned the computer off before leaning back in his chair. The conversation with his old friend Delvok was bringing back memories he spent years trying to forget. They still woke him up at night, with children's laughter tickling his ears as a loud snap would jolt him back to consciousness. A reminder of who he was. What he had become.

Closing his eyes, the Bajoran sighed and attempted to clear his mind, only to open them again and take a long sip of the alcohol when the memories became clearer. He couldn't help but remember one of the times he had met Delvok, when he was thirteen, and Bajor was still under Cardassian control...


"... and maybe some time down here will help you realize what you've done!" A young boy was pushed into a holding cell, and he snarled at the Cardassian in turn as the Bajoran caught himself.

"I did nothing wrong!" Zera growled. He started towards the entrance of the cell, stopping short when the forcefield flickered into place. "I was expressing my opinion-"

"You don't get an opinion, you naive little pest!" The Cardassian smacked the forcefield, making the scrawny boy flinch and back up, before leaving.

Zera watched the man leave, glaring at his back, before punching the wall in anger. Grumbling, he slid to the ground and wrapped his arms around his legs.

Delvok sat in his cell floor, legs crossed, eyes closed, hands laying upon his knees. He was trying to meditate, which was difficult with all the commission from the next cell. Delvok exhaled a little through his nose, he had got use to the quite of being isolated from the rest of the prison, and it now seemed he had a ‘cell mate.’

“Getting angry about it won’t help” said Delvok in his emotionless dulcet tones.

The young Bajoran looked up at the voice and over to where it came from. There was a wall, but it sounded like it had come from the other side. "It helps to me!" Zera hissed.

Delvok inhaled deeply through his nose. It was apparent that his quite peaceful contemplations were over for now. It had been many months since anyone else had been brought to this part of the prison complex. Delvok was use to the solitary confinement so, having someone else around was a new. Delvok opened his eyes and asked the voice a simple questions “Why?”

Why?? He'd show the voice why! Zera opened his mouth to speak, but stammered, unable to come up with a valid reason. "I-I don't know, it just does!" He pouted and crossed his arms.

Delvok closed his eyes and asked in an emotionless tone "indeed?" He started to get himself off the floor.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Zera grumbled.

"It would be my observation based on your emotional state that you do not know what makes you feel better. Perhaps your anger would be better channelled into something productive?"

The boy stood and started pacing the length of the small room, arms still crossed firmy in front of his chest. "Productive, like what? Last time I checked, I'm in a cell. You can sulk, sleep, or hope you get out."

“Perhaps” said Delvok reflecting on the youth’s words. “Or perhaps you can spend your time being more productive. For example focusing your energy on physical fitness activity or perhaps something mental like meditation.”

Zera thought over the other person's reply and huffed, but leaned against the wall nearest where the voice came from. "Are- you're don't sound like a Bajoran. Where are you from?"

Delvok closed his eyes again as he began to try and stretch out his body with fluid, gentle, gracefully movements. “Cestus 3 originally.” He responded in his flat emotionless tone, though perhaps that would not give away his species, as it was a Federation colony with races from all over its territories. “My heritage is Vulcan”

Now he was curious. "I've never met a Vulcan, or someone from Cestus 3, at least I don't think I have." The only other species he knew were the Cardassians. "Is it nice there, on Cestus 3? W-what's it like?"

Delvok stood silently for a moment, arms by his side, eyes closed as he let the cascade of memories fill his mind. Remembering home was difficult, it had been a long time since he had seen it last and it had become easier to forget than to remember. “Cestus Three is an ‘M’ Class planet. Much of the planet's southern hemisphere is dominated by a large bowl-shaped continent which has a single mountain range, the Coronado Mountains, running along its middle. In the northern hemisphere, there are several island continents. Most settlements can be found on the coast of the large southern continent. Five Settlements in all, Five cities built from the culture and architecture of half a dozen different alien species. Much of the main land mass remains untouched, rolling planes, deep woods and roaring rivers.”

"Sounds nice," the Bajoran replied after a pause. "If we get out... can I see it someday?"

"Why not" said Delvok more to himself than to the voice in the cell next door. "Why stop there? Why not join Starfleet and see the Alpha Quadrant?"

"The Cardassians talk about Starfleet like it's a bad thing," Zera stated in a low voice. "My mum, and dad, and my sisters are here, I... I can't just leave them here. Besides, wh-why would they want someone like me? I can't do anything, just do as I'm told."

Good enough in some respects, thought Delvok to himself. "Inded, the Cardassians would say Starfleet is a bad thing,they are after all the enemy. "

"Are you one of the Federation? I-I won't tell, I'm just curious."

"Do not worry, they are already well aware of my allegiance, I am a marine captured in battle"

Oh. "Were you fighting them ?" The boy asked. "The Cardassians? Can they be beat?"

Delvok shrugged to himself mentally "I have been in here a long time. The war might already be over with the federation. But yes they can be beaten"

...

Over the next two weeks, Zera had gotten to know the voice as Delvok, and they had spoken of many things. They exchanged stories about the Federation and about the Occupation, and after the first week the boy was learning some meditation techniques. It was difficult, as the young Bajoran was pulled away for a couple 'discipline sessions,' and each time it made him angry for feeling so weak. The first time, he had gotten sick to his stomach, never experiencing such pain before, and ended up hurling his lunch (which wasn't much to begin with).

It had been three days after the last 'session.' Zera tentatively touched one of the bruises on his arm, wincing. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of him crying. The one thing that had seeded itself into his mind and left to grow, however, was an increased fear of the Cardassians. They were monsters in his mind's eye, and what they could do terrified him. If he cried, it would mean that they had won.

He looked up when he heard what sounded like a small commotion, rising to his feet. It wasn't like what was commonly heard, which was normally the steady footsteps of the Cardassian guards. These footsteps were scattered and uneven. "Mister Delvok sir, what is that?" He asked, a little wary...



Blinking, Zera snapped back to reality as he sat up in his chair. The bottle was almost empty, and he was intoxicated enough to prevent him from doing anything productive, but not so much as to make him pass out by standing. The Bajoran stood, lightly touching his desk in case he did get woozy (unlikely), and checked the time. "Wow, it's late -early- whatever, he mused, knowing that the zoodai was going to grant him sleep. Undressing, he put the day's clothes in a lump by the bed before pulling on sleeping shorts and crawling under the covers. He'd deal with the clothes on the floor in the morning. It wasn't long before the Bajoran was pulled to the warm comfort of sleep.

END

 

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