| Author | Message | ||
     Cdr. Sieven Drexler |
He had spent more time inside the Fourth Chamber now than most. While Coronado mended in the Second Chamber, he had come frequently to think, to listen, and to pray. It was all he could do to stay sane. Sieven had returned again, this time bringing with him a black duffel containing a couple changes of clothing and some literature. He had filed the paperwork for extended personal leave in order to participate in his friend and mentor's zhian'tara, one of the most personal and private of the Trill ceremonies. After joining the Whitestone staff, he had come to work very closely with Admiral Kor and, in dealing with his own memories and experiences, had become very acquainted with many Trill customs--that is, the ones he had access to. There were many aspects of the Trill culture he could relate to personally, and in it he was able to reclaim a fraction of that which was lost so long ago. The symbionts lived hundreds of years, if not more, and so he could relate to their longevity. Though Drexler was still extremely young for his species, the anticipation of losing his first generation of friends was something he would not know how to handle. Indeed, the Trill had similar issues, though symbionts were much more stoic than the humanoids and were not generally affected by loss as deeply. He sat at the river's edge, pant legs rolled up above his knees, legs dangling over the edge of a boulder that had become lodged in the riverbank, water up to the middle of his calves. He was leaned back, propped up on locked arms, gently gliding his legs back and forth in opposite directions, entranced by the resistance of the river's current. He gazed rather purposelessly across the river. Behind him, about a hundred meters or so, was where his companions were beginning to assemble for the ceremony. There had been a bit of traffic earlier as people came and went, delivered supplies and personnel, then took some of them away. The end result was a small prefab village, a small medical team, a small security team, and the participants of the zhian'tara. Once all of the setup was complete, the area quickly returned to the serene, morbidly quiet Fourth Chamber of Xanadu, where only the movement of the water and the air made sound. He was a stronger person as a result of the time spent in this chamber. His first visit had been a nightmare: uncontrollable, oscillating moodswings. His equilibrium, especially that which he experiences on a temporal level, had been wrested. It was a sensation, though, that desensitized over time. Being able to control that foreign aspect of himself, brought to the forefront to be viewed by all during the recent heavy temporal activities, brought him confidence. More and more he understood that this was where he belonged. He felt he would soon come to the fork in the road where he would need to leave this all behind him and make some heavy decisions. BTC |