By Jariel Camen
80901.00
…continued from part one…
Jariel’s curious digging turned to panic, as he scratched and clawed the plants aside to reveal a third marker, beside his mother’s.
-=Flash=-
80901.00
…continued from part one…
Jariel’s curious digging turned to panic, as he scratched and clawed the plants aside to reveal a third marker, beside his mother’s.
-=Flash=-
“I want to go back inside.” Camen complained. He ran his tiny hands up and down his arms, trying to stay warm.
“Come by your sister, by the fire Camen.” His mother asked. “And here, have something to eat, both of you.”
Jariel Pomma broke off a piece of bread for each of them. She studied each to make sure Camen and Relanna would each receive the same share.
“What about you mother?” Relanna asked.
“I’m not hungry.” She said, shaking her head. “The Prophets have provided me all I need.”
Camen and Relanna each closed their eyes in a brief and silent prayer of thanks. As they finished, the twins repeated in unison, “Bless the Prophets.”
Camen broke the bread into smaller pieces, a trick his father had taught him to fool the mind into thinking you were eating more than you really were. At the age of four however, the mind believes what it chooses to believe, and for Camen it believed he was hungry, all the time.
“When can we go back to the village?” Relanna asked.
“I don’t know, we may have to continue our camping trip for a while longer.”
“What if the Cardassians find us?” Camen asked next.
“Then the Prophets will protect us, Camen.”
“Of course.” He said trustingly, knowing that was all the explanation he needed. The Prophets were always watching over them, and those who trusted their word and followed their teachings would always receive their grace.
Still, he could not help but miss the comfort of his own bed. The Prophets however had provided them with soft ground and bed of leaves to lie upon, and that was enough for him.
“Can Relanna and I play?” Camen asked, after finishing his bread.
“Yes, but you know the rule. Quiet games only.”
Camen nodded reluctantly, and began drawing a rudimentary game board in the dirt around the fire with the sharpened end of a stick. The children set rocks on the board and began to play.
Once their attention was distracted, Pomma wrapped her arms around herself and simply shook. This was their fourth night here in the woods, since the Cardassians had raided their village. She had not eaten a bite since then, saving all the food for the children.
Unfortunately she had just handed out the last of it, and unless Jariel Dralor returned with some sort of fruit or vegetable from the woods or a nearby town, she didn’t know what she would tell Camen and Relanna the next time they asked for a meal.
Hunger was getting to Pomma and her vision would occasionally become blurry as she fought to stay awake. Dralor had been gone for a day in search of food and she struggled to suppress the gut instinct she had that the love of her life was gone and never coming back.
As she rocked back and forth, the sound of footfalls approaching caught her attention. The first few notes of one of the children’s favorite nursery rhymes whistled in the distance let Pomma know that Dralor indeed had returned.
The footsteps drew closer, and Camen instinctively stepped between whatever was approaching and his sister.
“It’s all right Camen, it’s your father.” Pomma comforted him.
Dralor appeared from the darkness of the woods, but his expression was of no comfort to Pomma.
“Douse the fire.” He ordered. Pomma did not hesitate; throwing a bucket of sand they kept for just this eventuality onto the fire.
“What’s wrong father?” Relanna asked.
“Please be silent.” He whispered. He held out his hand, in which he clutched a palm full of berries he had managed to find. “Eat, all of you.” Pomma and the children each grabbed a fair share of the food.
Dralor turned to his wife and whispered so the children could not hear. “I think I lost them. It was close. I never should have come, but I had to bring the food I found.”
He dropped the small satchel he carried on the ground and opened it to show his wife a loaf of bread. “I got this too. Keep it hidden from them, one piece a day for as long as it lasts.”
He flipped the cover of the satchel shut, and a small device flew out onto the ground. A red light on it blinked ominously.
“What’s that?” Pomma asked, he voice trembling.
Before he could answer, a flare lit the sky above them, showering the area in light as bright as day, and the sound of voice suddenly seemed to come from all around them. Dralor looked at his children, and implored them with a single word.
“Run.”
Camen and Relanna knew not to question him, and each ran in separate directions. The last thing Camen heard was the sound of a struggle, of fighting. Terror alone fueled his steps as he ran through the darkness, to what, he did not know.
Like a berry from a tree, Camen was plucked from the ground by the hot sweaty hand of a Cardassian soldier. He froze instantly in the man’s grip.
“If you want to live, you will do as I say.”
Camen nodded, and the soldier set him down, and turned him back towards the Jariel camp.
“March.”
Camen did as he was told. Moments later, he arrived back where he had began. A half dozen Cardassians had rounded up his parents, whom were each sitting on the ground, bloodied by the exchange and bound at the hands and ankles. Another Cardassian held Relanna in place.
“We have secured the terrorists.” One of the men said into his wrist.
[I will be there in a moment.]
The group stood in silence. Camen looked upon his mother, who’s eyes were hollow and distant, as if she just had given up and could no longer fight.
Another Cardassian appeared from the woods. He looked upon the children, and then the parents.
“Who put the homing device in the man’s bag?” He asked.
“I did, Gul.” One of the men stepped forward.
The “Gul” as he had been referred to, help up a device with a photo of a Bajoran on it to the man who had stepped forward.
“Do these two look alike to you?” The Gul asked.
The man shrugged. “They all look alike to me.”
A few of the Cardassians chuckled. The Gul was not amused however. He pulled a weapon from his hip, and shot the man before him. Camen turned to run, as the Cardassian fell to the ground dead, but was restrained once again.
The Gul once again looked at Camen’s mother and father.
“They are half starved. They are of no use to me.” Pomma and Dralor were dragged to their feet, and their ankle restraints removed.
“The children?”
The Gul looked at Relanna, then at Camen. “The girl is too small to waste resources on.”
“Wait!” Pomma pleaded. “I have fed her well, she can work in the mines. She’s strong for her age.”
The Gul examined his fingernails, picking at them and ignoring the heartfelt please of the woman. Camen watched helplessly as his mother, father and sister were taken from his site, off into the woods.
He would never hear from them ever again.
The Gul walked over to Camen, dropping to his knees, and smiling for the first time. As he lowered himself to the ground the material of his uniform combined with the scaly skin of his neck made a sickly sound as they rubbed against each other.
“You’re mother has indeed fed you well young man. You look strong. My name is Gul Tryall. What is yours?”
“Jariel Camen.”
“Tell me, Jariel, or Camen, have you ever wanted to hit a Cardassian before?”
“No.”
Tryall looked almost disappointed by the answer.
“Why ever not?”
“The Prophets teach us peace.”
Tryall laughed “Oh, the innocent naiveté of Bajoran children. Do you know where I just sent your family?”
“Into the woods?” Camen asked.
“To their death, child.”
Camen felt the tears pour down his face. Mostly from confusion rather than anger or sorrow. There would be plenty of time for sorrow later.
“Do you feel like hitting a Cardassian now? Go ahead, I won’t stop you.”
Camen did not move, he merely stood there, weeping.
Gul Tryall shrugged, and stood back up. “He’ll do well in the ore processing in two or three years, worth the food to feed him. Send him to one of the orphanages and let the Bajorans raise him.”
-=End Flashback=-
Camen crumpled over the stone of his sister, his palms bloody from the panicked digging he had done to reveal her marker. He sobbed for a moment, and then returned his gaze to the clear sunny sky above.
“This is what you give me? Beautiful skies to mock my misery?”
He leaned over once again, laying his forehead on Relanna’s grave, and whispering to the Prophets.
“I begged you to stop them. Why didn’t you stop them? I begged you. I did everything you asked. I followed all the teaching, listened to my parents and the Vedeks, and you still let them take everything from me. Why didn’t you care enough to save her?”
For years the memories had been suppressed, too heartbreaking to recall. He vaguely remembered his parents being taken away by Cardassians, but the truth of that night had remained locked away in the recesses of his mind.
Timal was right, he did need to come here.
Relanna had been gone for more than thirty years, but if nothing else, a piece of her was alive again tonight.
“Why didn’t you care enough?” Tears streamed down Camen’s face, as he repeated the mantra over and over again, until he could cry no more.
The light of the day began to wane, and he knew he would need to return to the orphanage before nightfall. He kissed the stone of each of his family, and made sure there were no weeds remaining covering them. He promised himself he would visit again, and plant a flower for each.
As he stormed back into the kitchen at the orphanage, Timal and his assistants were already cleaning up from evening meal.
“I saved you a plate, Camen.”
“I’m not hungry.”
Jariel continued straight through, to his room, and began stuffing clothing into a duffle. Timal followed him in.
“Have you considered speaking with the Prophets about this, Camen?”
“Soon enough, Timal. Gul Tryall, do you remember him?”
Timal sighed. “Camen, that’s not why I suggested you go there.”
“I’m not out for revenge, you know me better than that. I would just like to know how he sleeps at night. Just one question I want to ask.”
“Camen, he retired to Torros years ago, after the Occupation. That’s the last I heard of him anyway, Torros is 3 days travel from here, and past Cardassia. You can’t just waltz up to his front door.”
“Why not? Getting passage through Cardassian space isn’t as bad as it used to be. Three days travel you say?”
“Three days.”
“Then I will see you in seven days, my friend.”
“What about your Starfleet classes?”
“They can let me make up the time I missed, or throw me out.” Camen replied defiantly.
And with that, he was gone.
---------------------------
Jariel Camen
Ship’s Chaplain
USS Serendipity NCC-2012
Heading for Torros
Jariel Camen
Ship’s Chaplain
USS Serendipity NCC-2012
Heading for Torros