532: The Last Sip

by TC Blane
80926.19
Following Markings

-=Cork=-


TC stood in the dark over the grave of Keiran O’Sullivan and stared at the fresh mound of dirt, his arms once again folded across his chest.

“You don’t deserve to be here, ya big Irishman.” TC sat on the ground next to the grave. His thought turned to Vox and the numerous way TC wanted to cause the man indescribable harm.

Once again a good man died for another’s arrogance. It made TC sick to think of the pain and anguish that had been heaped upon the O’Sullivan family, his crew, his friends, and most of all on Zanh Liis.

Pushing the thought from his mind for the time being, he reached into his coat and pulled out a silver flask. He turned the top and opened it.

“You still owe me a dinner and a drink I believe. Well, I’ll collect on that drink now.” He took a long swig from the flask and then poured some onto the dirt next to him.

“We really did not get the chance to know each other very well.” He frowned then shrugged. “Except for the scuffle in the lounge I don’t think this we ever met socially.”

He laughed to himself. “In any case you made an impact, and not just on my jaw. You made many lives better just by being you. Dane, myself, and not to mention the Captain.”

He took another sip and shared some more with the grave. He wondered it the Guinness stout that he had in the flask would had been to O’Sullivan’s liking and suddenly regretted that fact that he had never gotten the opportunity to find out.

“You did good. Even in your final moments, you done good.” TC shook his head.

He looked up at the stars and the clear sky. “I envy you.”

“Despite all that happened and all of the odds against it and all of the varying timelines you and the Captain found that special thing…” He searched for the correct term. “…that special love that survives all odds. No outside influence, TI meddling, or admirals playing god could stop it.”

“I’m jealous.” TC admitted to an emotion that most people never knew existed in the man and one that he would never admit to a living person, and most assuredly one that he would never show.

He took another sip and once again shared the contents of the flask. He stared at the dirt. “I’ll watch over her. Carrick also.” He thought for a moment. “Hell, I’ll even keep one eye on Dane, if I don’t kill him first.” He laughed.

“He just might be salvageable.” He smiled at the memory of Dane carrying Carrick to safety.

“I’ll watch them and keep them safe. You have my word.”

He took one more sip from the flask. He slowly stood and slowly poured the remaining Guinness onto the grave.

As the last drop fell from the flask it signaled the end of O’Sullivan, in TC’s mind. It was TC's final goodbye to the man, a gesture that perhaps only O’Sullivan could have appreciated. He sealed the flask and returned it to his coat pocket.

“I do have a favor to ask.” He said quietly. “When my time comes…” He paused as he looked around. “Help me find my way.”

“I, I am not sure that I can overcome the sins of my past and find my way on my own.”

He looked up once again to the sky. “I’ll need all the help I can get.”

“I was glad to call you a comrade, a fellow officer, and…” He smiled. “…a friend.”

He turned to leave.

“I’ll see you on the other side.”

TC slowly made his way down the hill and back to the town of Cork. It was time to go back to work and to keep his promise.


Commander TC Blane
Second Officer
USS Serendipity NCC-2012


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NRPG: It makes it rather hard to proofread and send posts out, Mister Blane, if I am crying while I read them!

Seriously... Bravo.~ZL