That Which Is Buried

Posted on Fri Jul 24th, 2020 @ 5:00pm by Lieutenant Commander Estella Stratton
Edited on Fri Jul 24th, 2020 @ 10:51pm

Estella slumped onto the sofa in her private quarters and thumbed through the pages of Charles Dicken's "Great Expectations" until a photo dislodged and fluttered to the floor. The book slid from her hands onto the ground, binding up, next to the picture. Her vision blurred as she stooped to retrieve the photo.

Her fingers traced over the edges as she swallowed back a sob. She looked at a younger her grinning with an arm around a blonde young man with the same striking green eyes. Her twin brother, Levi Ethan Stratton.

In thin, curved, black writing at the bottom of the photo was the lettering: Ethan and Jean, Starfleet

It had been written in her hand, the picture taken the day they'd both been accepted into Starfleet. That photo had been the last one they'd taken together before her appointment onto the USS Independence and he'd gone off into the far reaches of space to further his pursuits for a marriage in medicine and synthetic life.

Then, that was his way. Always reaching for the stars, daring to believe the impossible, possible. He'd hoped one day to find a way to store memories and perhaps synthetically preserve an individual's essence as a means to combat illnesses often found in old age such as Alzheimer's. From there, he'd wanted to broaden his scope and even explore the possibility of using synthetic life in the process of restoring limbs and maybe one day, sight.

He'd believed science and technology could cure almost anything if enough thought was put into it. Levi had been a man of vision. She'd admired him for that. Just as he had her ability to keep an open mind.

That was why he'd insisted she come along when things with her and Jon were starting to get serious. He wanted her because she understood him and also had an understanding of the concerns his research presented to other species.

Had she known that was the last time that she'd see him alive and that it would be her choice that would get him killed...
Her fingers trembled as she set the photo on the table and she buried her head into the sofa cushion and cried.