By Jariel Camen
80921.1400
After Remembered: Two
-=Bajor=-
80921.1400
After Remembered: Two
-=Bajor=-
“Am I the only passenger?” Camen asked, as he threw his bag down atop the containers in the cargo bay.
“Just one other. I don’t usually take persons along with me.” The freighter captain replied, tapping at his cargo manifest rather than making eye contact with Camen.
The Captain’s species was unknown to Camen. Probably from some distant, unsavory planet that was as unpleasant and offensive as the man’s stench.
Still, regardless of where he was from, the man had plans to deliver cargo to Torros, and was willing to take a passenger aboard. That alone made him good enough.
*What in the worlds am I doing here?* Camen thought, as he looked around at this dank and miserable place. So far from the life that had been familiar to him, seemingly moments ago.
“You’ve got the first room on the left outside the cargo bay.”
“When do we leave?” Camen asked. “Is the other passenger here yet?”
“As soon as I’m done with the manifest. Yes, he’s aboard. A Bajoran like you, his name was Timal.”
Camen’s shoulders slumped at the mention of the name. He took his bag and dropped it off in his assigned quarters. It did not take much searching before he found Timal, two doors down, in his own room.
“What are you doing here? You should be with the children.” Camen chided him.
“I haven’t taken a vacation in two decades. I’m entitled.”
“Have you ever even left Bajor?”
Timal rolled his eyes as if in thought, even though he already knew the answer. “Maybe. I think so. Camen, my staff is well trained; they won’t suffer with me gone for a week. And you shouldn’t be going where you are going alone.”
Jariel plunked down on an old, uneven chair with a torn cushion that passed for furniture here. “I should just get some sleep, it will make the journey go faster.”
“As you wish.” Timal laid back into the pillow on his bed and shut his eyes. Jariel simply sat where he was, staring at the wall.
“Aren’t you going to go to your own bed?” Timal asked finally.
“Yeah.” Jariel stood up, and left the room, without so much as a goodnight to Timal.
The ship trembled from the warp drive being engaged as he walked the corridor.
He passed through to the door, and splashed cold water on his face form the sink before falling onto the uncomfortable and lumpy bed.
The poor accommodations were really of no concern to him, since he intended to sleep very little anyway.
His mind wandered from person to person, his parents, Relanna, Timal, Liis, Fleur and even young Milea, whom he had just met. He checked the chronometer some time later and realized his aimless daydreaming had consumed two and a half hours.
Moments later he was back at Timal’s door, knocking softly.
“Come in.”
Timal was lying still, reading a book he had brought with him, wide-awake.
“I guess I didn’t wake you.” Jariel said.
“I knew you were coming, so I stayed up.” Timal slipped a marker into his book, closed it and set it aside.
Jariel paced back and forth. The normally peaceful and calm man was unusually anxious.
“I…” Jariel stuttered as he tried to speak. “I, I don’t know where home is anymore.”
Timal sat quietly, knowing he’d speak when he was ready.
“Since I was a child all I’ve known loving her, or missing her when she’s gone. I’m trying desperately to put a frame of reference on the changes in my life, and the decisions I’ve made in the past. Do I seem like the kind of man, Timal, who would take up life on a starship? Or a space station?”
He paused and waited for Timal to answer, but Timal merely accepted the question as rhetorical.
“When we were together it felt like home, no matter where we were. I just wanted to be near her, and I regret every decision that ever separated us. I should have told the Prophets where to go a long time ago. They had one demand of me and I just couldn’t give it to them.”
Timal cast his eyes to the floor. He heard the bitterness in Jariel’s voice. He didn’t know all the details but he knew the Prophets had always tried to drive a wedge between Camen and Liis.
“So, you still miss her when she’s gone?”
Now it was Jariel who remained silent. He couldn’t deny what Timal had said. What had been a part of him for so long.
“Yet you are here, and not there.” Timal observed.
“She deserves the chance to sort out her feelings, as do I.”
“Sure.” Timal said, quietly. “I understand your feelings, Camen. Doesn’t everyone want to go home? Every child to their parents, every soldier to their family, every mate to their spouse. You’ll know home when you feel it.”
Timal paused before changing the subject. “You told me about this other woman in your alternate life, but nothing about your daily life itself. What was it like?”
“I was the Kai.” Jariel replied flatly.
“Really?”
“I hated it.” Jariel admitted with complete honesty. “I wasn’t a man, I was a prop, on display at the negotiation tables like the ceremonial candles and the fine stemware. Sorry if that disappoints you.”
“Not every person shares the same aspirations. Perhaps it was wrong of me to push you towards being Kai when you were younger.”
“You were only doing what you thought was best, for myself and Bajor. It just wasn’t meant to be my path. Being the Kai was supposed to mean the Prophets shared their power with me for the good of Bajor. I only felt like my power was being shared with them. They took advantage of my place as a beloved figure on Bajor to spread their word for their own gain. Zanh Liis taught me I was a good man with a kind soul who didn’t need a title or a funny hat to justify the value of my character.”
Jariel continued, “I felt like I wasn’t really doing anything for Bajor in that life. The diplomats did all the talking, all the negotiating; supposedly trying to do what was best for Bajor. My presence was merely to sanction their decisions, not to provide any input. I now find the greatest satisfaction is in helping the individual, with no expectations of anything in return.”
“Who do you intend to help on Torros?” Timal asked, bringing Camen back to the present.
“Myself?” Jariel asked back.
“A fair enough answer.” Timal glanced at the chronometer. “The hour is late. You should rest."
Jariel nodded and thanked his old friend.
“Wait!” Timal stopped him. “Do you still have that bracelet?” His voice was very quiet; Jariel was barely able to hear what he had said.
“Of course. I guard it with my life.”
“Do you know...where it came from?”
“You always told me it was a keepsake from my family, that was smuggled out of the camps by the prisoners, to be delivered to me at the orphanage.”
Timal actually blushed, and looked at the floor. “I’m afraid, my friend, I told you that so you would feel you had a part of your family to hold on to.”
Jariel sat back down on the bed. He probably should have been angry about what Timal had just said, but in reality he was quite curious.
“Do you remember the name Anian Naloy, Jariel?”
Jariel nodded. Anian Naloy was Zanh Liis’ grandmother.
“I had intended to give that bracelet to her, to ask her to be my wife.”
“You have my undivided attention now.” Jariel replied. “What happened?”
“I never told her how I felt. How I really felt. Someone else did.”
Jariel took Timal back to his quarters, and rummaged through his belongings for the bracelet. He opened the case and handed it to Timal.
“You’ve taken good care of this.” Timal spun the bracelet around in his fingers. He examined each strand of wood closely. They still had the same smoothness and color they had all those years ago, when he had fashioned them himself.
“She was a fine woman, wasn’t she?” Jariel asked.
“She had a spirit and ability no one around her could ever quite believe. It was exhausting just to watch her work, sometimes. I don’t know how she did it. She could command a room, yet she was as gentle as an infant when she knew someone needed a loving hand.”
Timal handed the bracelet back to Camen, who stored it safely away back in his box.
“I should be getting to bed, Camen.”
“Of course, Vedek.”
Timal left the room, looking particularly forlorn. Usually Timal was the one everyone else came to when they had problems. Jariel wondered whom Timal talked to when he needed it, if anyone.
Perhaps he thought the bracelet was long since forgotten; lost to a storage locker on some distant planet Camen had visited. He seemed pleased it was still safe. Then again, he seemed sad at the same time.
Camen turned the light out, and pulled up the covers on his bed.
Jariel Camen
Ship's Chaplain
USS Serendipity NCC-2012
Ship's Chaplain
USS Serendipity NCC-2012