“Memories”

by FSF Bourne

James Bauer ducked his head as he entered the dark, smoke filled room. The hood that covered his face offered nothing to those stood crowding the door as he moved inward, pressing past a gathered crowd who sat, listening intently as a man much younger than him finished his story. James knew about this place, had heard the stories and the rumours, but never thought he would be enter, seeking refuge on this bitterly cold November evening.

“Bauer,” The voice would have shocked James had he not been expecting it, he nodded slowly to the man behind the bar, the man who had uttered his name - the first in a long time to call him by his true name - and slid across a cool drink that stood proud in its tall, curved glass. The deep amber liquid held within was smooth as James took his first sip, an indulgence he rarely allowed himself, a crisp flavour crested his taste buds and he couldn’t help but follow the first with a second, longer gulp.

“You know your trade, Cap,” James said, his voice hoarse and unforgiving as it ebbed out from underneath the hood.

“You know the cost,” Cap said swiftly, holding a glass in his right hand as he polished it with his left. “And I know there’s something, and I know you may not want to tell it but we all know you will. You know you need to tell it too, you’ve just been avoiding it all this time.”

James nodded, his head hung over his drink as he watched the bubbles rise through the liquid, he exhaled loudly as the memories flooded back to him and he considered his past, the route in which he had been lead to this point. The road was long, travelled and full of twists but he never even considered he’d be making this journey alone.

The USS Beagle held its course through the secondary sector of space it had been given to patrol, its mission as much a punishment as anything, but still it held course, ship and crew working to perfection to cast themselves away from the shadow of the past few years, the Litvokian war that had raged on and the cost that was too high for any man to pay and yet, this crew, along with their fleet, had paid the debt time and again without question. The ship, a modified galaxy class refit was the runt of the fleet and commanded by the recently promoted Captain, James Bauer, a veteran, who had gone from a lowly Security Chief to Chief of Starfleet Security Operations for an entire sector before standing down to join his former crew. That crew - The USS Providence - had been his home for a long time before he was finally promoted to his own command. The USS Beagle offered him a new start, his own star and yet, without even thinking, the first thing Bauer did was work against the admiralty to complete a mission for a former friend lost to the war.

The ships patrol had gone without incident and after three weeks of space debris and chasing pirates the crew were heading home for a debrief and a change in mission. The sector was quiet, the secondary shift had command while the off duty personnel slept, the ship moved under impulse power as it completed a set of training manoeuvres with a young helmsman who had come aboard for a shakedown cruise.

James slept next to his wife, Michelle, a peaceful slumber that had come so rarely that they were both thankful for the rest. The silence broken suddenly by warping of the hull, a loud creak that ran upwards through the bulkhead that followed with several loud cracks. James nearly leapt clear of his bed in a sleep-filled daze as he reached for his com-badge, Michelle covering her face with a pillow as she growled and turned over once again. Klaxons breached the sanctity of their bedroom as James scooped his badge up, the loud, piercing sound almost crippling with its intensity.

“This is the Captain, what is the situation?!” James shouted to be heard over the alarms.

“Captain!” The voice was soft and feminine - His XO, Jennie Mourne - yet held an uncharacteristic panic. “We don’t know right now, there was an explosion in the main shield control bay that ravaged half of engineering and breached through most of the lower decks - we were venting in to space for a few seconds while the computer responded.”

“I’m on my way. Have damage control teams move to intercept any damaged sections and have all departments report in with assessments by the time I’m on the bridge!”

“It’s happening, isn’t it…” Michelle’s soft voice pierced through the commotion as James shut down the channel and turned, scooping up his loose cover that was spread across the floor. “I told you it would come to this, told you this day was coming, but you wouldn’t listen to me.”

“I can’t do this right now, Michelle,” He shrugged, defeated as he quickly pulled his pants up and secured the belt that hung loose around the top. “Your race - whoever they are - still remain a mystery. You say time travellers and make bold claims of premonitions and yet show little insight in to the world around us. I know what your people are and how important that part of you is; but I can’t tell anyone and so marching on to that bridge and informing my people that my wife is a strange race that is undocumented but it’s OK, she knows we’re all doomed, isn’t going to work.”

“I get vibes,” Michelle shot back quickly. “Since I decided to leave I’ve had little more than sporadic memories and feelings when something bad is going to happen. You know that James and I’ve never been wrong, have I? And I’ve got the mother of all vibes right now.”

James dropped to his right knee, scooping his wife’s hand as he leaned forward, took a deep breath that filled his chest and released it slowly. “Get some things together,” He leaned forward and kissed the softness of her lips. “Get ready, just in case we call an evac, OK?”

Michelle just smiled as James turned and walked from the room, the darkness masking the tears that fell down her pale cheeks, deep hearty sobs suddenly breaking the silence as she rolled back, grabbing for her stomach; she gasped for air while reaching out to steady herself, the pain that rolled around her midsection almost crippling in its intensity.

James emerged on the bridge, his hair still ruffled, uniform hanging open as he jogged down to the central reservation of the galaxy class star ship. “Report!” He demanded above the chaos.

Jennie Mourne, a stout little woman, turned from the engineering console, a deep fear seeded within her eyes as her voice cracked. “We’ve got a damned Litvokian fleet dropping on us and launching fighters from all vectors…”

“What?!” James almost fell from his feet as he spun around to look at the tactical station.

“We believe the explosion was some kind of insurgent attack, something they used as a precursor to a larger attack.” Mourne continued. “Our shield generator isn’t salvageable, we’ve only got impulse power to forty percent and Warp is off the table until we can establish a working field.” She took a deep gulp before continuing. “Weapons are online but the targeting systems are struggling to compensate with the ship listing as it is.”

“So we’re dead in space?!” James brought up the panel controls for tactical.

“Yes. Sir.” Mourne finally put in with a softness in her voice. “And the Litvokians are bearing down on us with deadly intent.”

James walked from the bridge in to his ready room. The calls for his attention rang over the explosions that reigned through the command centre although James heard nothing, a numbness ran through his body, a slow motion walk through the chaos and in to his ready room that sealed him away from the commotion, away from the reality. The refuge in the small side room that had been his office for the last few tours held little relief as the windowed far wall revealed the oncoming onslaught of Litvokian fighters and larger base ships that were keeping their distance in fear that the USS Beagle may still be operational. His eyes flashed fear that suddenly turned to anger; he bit down hard on his lower lip as he turned back to his desk, scooping the contents across the table in a flash, growling loudly as it hit the floor in a crash.

“Insurgents on the ship…” He looked to the door, Michelle was stood basked in the light and commotion of the bridge behind her. “… And a fleet bearing down. James, we have to go. I told you this would happen and you still couldn’t retire, could you? Haunted by Talus’ memory you continued down the path we knew would end like this.”

“I’m an arrogant fool then,” He bit, he knew what she was doing and yet couldn’t help himself. “That’s what you’re saying isn’t it? My arrogance and bravado have just got this crew killed.” He shook his head, disdain painted across his face. An explosion rocked the ready room as he moved forward towards the replicator.

“Don’t let what I know be your fate, James,” Michelle said, her soft voice warming his heart. “The fact that I can see it doesn’t mean it has to be so; the very knowledge of your fate could be the difference needed.” She was pleading, going against all she believed in and not caring one bit about the consequences. She knew he had to live.

“Computer, replicate a new uniform;” His words were slow, sombre. He hadn’t heard Michelle’s plea his mind now focused on his task at hand.

James appeared from the low light of his ready room in his new uniform, the crisp material clinging tightly to his body as the four golden pips glistened against the artificial light of the bridge. His hair was straightened and placed as his crew had come to expect; the fighters were surrounding the ship and James could see over the Tactical officers shoulder that there were too many for them to hope to fend off. There was only one course of action.

“Commander Moore,” James said, “Order an immediate evacuation of all personnel. I am going to use the ship as a distraction while our people get away.” It was his last thought and the most heroic one he had allowed in a long time, Heroism gets people killed, he remembered that from a friend just before he watched him die. “Sometimes it’s necessary.” He sighed under his breath, watching Moore’s face for a reaction so predictable he raised his right hand to stop her. “You’ll have command of the escape pods and will navigate to the nearest system. Activate your distress beacons twelve hours after landing to allow the commotion to settle and for the Litvokians to disperse.” He offered a small smile and shook Moore’s hand, a happiness emanating from him as he tried to fill her with confidence. “This is my journey, that is yours.” Were the last words he said to her as he used the leverage from her hand to spin her and point her in the right direction.

And that was it; people filed out silently pausing only to look over at the solitary man stood at the central point of the bridge as he stood, looking out over his command while it fell apart around him. The Beagle was lost, that was made obvious by the explosions that kept rocking the command deck back and forth, the soundless expanse between explosions held little confidence in the ships ability to right itself. The air was stale, the bitter taste of smoke filled the air; the ships engines lay dormant as power throughout the ship flickered on and off in an effort to keep key systems going as long as possible. James didn’t notice any of this. His eyes focused on the Helm console as he plotted a direct course for the larger base ship that housed the smaller Litvokian fighters. His hope of a distraction would give the crew minutes at most to get away but, considering the other option, James was happy with those odds. The computer flashed a message that the last pod had been launched, the ship was clear and free of burdens for him to carry away with him. He set the course and locked it in through his highest possible coding; he locked all Tactical controls to the central console and moved to watch the main viewer which was all but destroyed. The image that flashed through was tough to watch, a jarred frame rate chugged along updating only every few seconds but it was enough to get the message across. The fleet were concentrating on the Beagle and not the escape pods.

“James…” Michelle’s voice broke the silence as she stood in the doorway to the ready room. In the commotion James had forgotten to check on her and here she stood, blood red eyes and dried tears streaked across pale pink cheeks. He tried to approach her, she waved him away with her small left hand. “Don’t, please.”

“Why?” His mouth was agape as he fought back tears. “Why didn’t you go?” He asked, his hand flailing around with anger.

“Without you, I couldn’t.” She sighed heavily. “I lied to you before; I knew exactly how this was going to end and now I know where we go from here but I couldn’t tell you; I needed you to make that choice on your own and you did.” She smiled slightly, although not one of ease but something a lot more awkward that struck James deep down in his soul.

“I made this decision to save people ‘Chelle,” James said, his eyes burning from the smoke, tears welling and falling across his hard face.

“You did,” Michelle said, her eyes sinking downwards slightly. “And that’s why I know you were the right choice.” She paused, looked up for a second before cradling her stomach. “Her name is Aeryn.”

Suddenly a large explosion rocked the ship; James moved forward but was again waved off by Michelle as a large droning sound filled the bridge and a long, elongated thrum filled the air, drowning out the screams as half the bridge disappeared in to space, Michelle’s face lifted, eyes locked with James’ as the decking around her disintegrated and she was dragged in to the darkness. James’ screams that had held throughout suddenly became audible again as the computer locked an emergency shield around his section preventing him from reaching out and saving her. A second explosion knocked his shielding unit out and he was thrown against an exploding console and bounced out in to space, his last thoughts of Michelle; his last memories of happiness.

“I…” Cap spoke, breaking the silence that had fallen over the bar. “I…” He offered a small shrug that James had seen many times in the years since that day; it was of sorrow and a small gesture asking for forgiveness as no one knew what to say. There was never anything you could say, James had found, and the least said, the better.

James flipped back the hood that had been hiding his face up until now, a large blistered scar climbed up one side of his face, red and angry as it clinged to him, circling with the contours of his face and ending at a dark eye patch that sat on his right eye. He licked his dry, cracked lips as he looked out to the crowd gauging the reaction, most painted with shock and some with disgust, and yet none of this surprised him. “I can’t bear to lose the scars. These are the only connection to her that I have; everything was destroyed in that explosion and I don’t even know how I survived, I just woke up three weeks later on a medical transport.” He sighed. “Her name is Aeryn.” He said, replacing the hood once again as he stood and slid the cold, empty glass across the counter. “Those were her last words to me and I’ve tried to figure it out every day since then. Is, not was.” He stepped away from the table as the silence from other patrons held and stepped closer to the waiting doorway. “I’ll find my answers one day,” His voice softened as the bitter cold swirled in from the open door, rubbing his hands together as he breathed in to them and stepped out in to the frosty December evening.