80901.00
Concurrent with Déjà vu All Over Again
-=Altaan Province, Bajor=-
Jariel entered the kitchen, and tossed his bag up on the counter, scattering several PADDs across the surface. He flinched, prepared to catch a PADD that threatened to fall on the floor, but it came to rest on its own. Timal said nothing, merely continuing to peel the skin from the root vegetable he held in his hand that would be part of the evening meal.
Camen fell back into a chair, the air puffing out of his lungs with exhaustion as he hit the seat.
"Wow." He stared off into the distance. "If that is what day one of the Rudimentary Maintenance and Engineering course looks like, I don't know how Salvek, Kellyn and Rada ever made it to day two of the full Academy course."
Timal tossed a peeled root into the pot with the others that was simmering on the stove, and looked over his shoulders at the pile of PADDs as if there were a bacterial infection in his kitchen.
"So, why the mess in the kitchen?"
"Sorry." Jariel gathered up the PADDs back into the carrying case jogged to his room to throw them on the bed. He returned to see what he could help Timal with and found the man wiping up the counter where the PADDs had been.
"They assign us reading and studying outside the class that is usually done via the planet wide information net, but since we don't have that here, Starfleet was kind enough to provide me with PADDs of the different textbooks," Jariel explained.
Timal simply grunted, sounding more like a Klingon who had been forced to do paperwork than a Bajoran Vedek. Camen grabbed a root and a peeler and began to assist Timal.
"So, while we have some time alone, care to tell me yet why you are here?"
Jariel sighed and merely peeled faster.
"If you must know, Timal, the long and short of it is I recently experienced memories of another timeline, where I was married to another woman, whom I cared for very much. Zanh Liis had a similar experience and there is no denying that we owe it to ourselves to sort through these events on our own and discover where our hearts really lie."
"Oh." Timal said. "Well when you decide to share information you don't beat around the bush do you Camen?" Timal tossed another root in the pot and adjusted the heat.
Once again Camen merely peeled faster, without even realizing the skin was already gone and he was merely peeling the inner flesh of the root. Timal quickly grabbed the root out of his hands, tossed it in the pot, and gave Camen a new one.
"Do you know this other woman?"
Jariel chuckled ironically. "Yeah, Timal I do."
"If you cared for her, then why not go to her?"
"Well, first off, I don't even know where she is, and second," Jariel blushed, and stopped peeling. Timal noted he appeared almost ashamed of what he was about to say. "While she was genuine with me in the other time, I was not completely genuine with her. No, if I'm going to be with anyone I'm going to really fall in love with them, and if I'm going to start finding myself, this was the place to come to do it."
"Sounds like you have some things to make peace with. My advice to you is to make sure you address all of who you are, not just the part of you that loves a woman in your life." Timal said.
"What do you mean?"
"When was the last time you consulted an orb? Or visited your family?"
Jariel bristled at the mere mention of the word family. "You and I both know nothing could come of that. The Cardassians killed my parents, and the story ends there. We've talked about this before, what is the point of me ever going to the grave site? Will it ever make them alive? Will it ever change history so that I could grow up with a family?"
Timal said nothing, and ignored Jariel as he stormed around the kitchen behind him. Jariel waited for him to answer and grew frustrated. However he knew what he would tell anyone else in the same position, that the spirit needed to be healed, and you can't run from pain forever.
"Fine." He said finally.
"Due East, about three kilometers." Timal said.
"I remember where it is." Jariel said solemnly. Just because he never went there didn't mean he did not know exactly where it was.
Jariel walked out of the orphanage, and through the children who were playing merrily, enjoying the free time Timal gave them to play before last meal.
"Vedek Jariel, will you play with us? Please?" A young girl asked.
"Not just now child. Tomorrow, I promise." The girl pouted, and Jariel mussed her hair. "Run along now."
"O... kay." She said with a sigh.
The sound of laughter began to fade into the distance as Jariel walked to the edge of the grounds, out of the sunlight and into the dark overhead canopy cast by the limbs of the trees above. Soon he could hear none of the children, and only the soft crunching of dried leaves and twigs beneath his feet.
The walk was treacherous, as Jariel had to pick his way through overgrowth and swat off insects that swarmed around his face. His clothing absorbed the prick of thorns that were hidden in amongst the other, less threatening looking plants. This was not the most hospitable environment, but it suited his mood for the moment.
One should not feel comfortable and content when one is going to a place such as the one the awaited Jariel Camen.
He saw the glimmer of sunlight on a clearing in the distance, and knew he was close to his destination. The woods feels away behind him, as he stepped out into a vast clearing. At his feet was a simple baked clay marker of a grave, bearing the Bajoran symbol and a number.
The markers stretched out over the clearing in front of him, and to his left and right, as far as the eye could see. They followed every contour of the surface, falling into small depressions and rolling over gentle hills. The trees that marked the boundaries of the far side of this place were so small from here, they merely appeared as dark masses to Jariel's vision.
The government made a modest effort to keep this place somewhat clear, but usually only tended to the grounds a few times a year. Many of the markers were completely overgrown by weeds and grass, while a few were clear and well tended, which indicated a family member visited this place regularly.
Jariel could only imagine the shape his parent's site was in, being that no one had been here to visit them.
"Three million, four hundred twenty seven thousand, five hundred and six and three million, four hundred twenty seven thousand, five hundred and seven." Jariel recited the numbers from memory.
In many respects he was lucky to have anything at all to visit. The Cardassians left nothing to be buried for most of those killed during the occupation. Occasionally they were merciful enough to turn over remains to the Bajorans for burial.
He wandered what felt like an eternity, but in reality was probably only about a half hour. His pace slowed as the numbers drew closer to the ones he was looking for. At first he didn’t see what he was looking for, as there was a large gap of untended markers no one had bothered to clean in many years. He dropped to his knees, pulling the weeds and caked dirt aside, to reveal the markers of his mother and father.
Looking to the sky, the weather was still clear and bright in the early evening sun. Somehow it seemed as if he were being mocked, as if it should have been pouring rain now.
He waited for the sorrow to come, but it just did not. He had made peace with their death decades ago, in his own way. Being here didn’t change that at all. He leaned down, placing a hand on either side of his mother’s marker, hoping being closer to her may elicit some emotional response.
His left hand rested on the soft ground below, but the right felt hardness beneath. Curious, he drew back the weeds and dug his fingernails into the soil beneath.
“No.”
Jariel’s curious digging turned to panic, as he scratched and clawed the plants aside to reveal a third marker, beside his mother’s.
Jariel Camen
Ship’s Chaplain
USS Serendipity NCC-2012