Post 503: Something Somehow Sacred Part One

Stardate:71017.1830
Title: Something Somehow Sacred, Part One
Author: Lt. February Grace
Scene: Yensul V, above and below the surface
Time: Following "Without Fanfare"
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The core of the USS Alchemy's senior staff hurried on through the snow, knowing that time was ticking away and that on more than one front, they were soon going to run out of it.

As she trudged forward, February's thoughts were overtaken by the haunting melody of a song, and she didn't know why.

She wasn't a religious person, herself, not in the traditional ways of Trill, or of Earth where she'd grown up as more human in many ways than as Trill. Yet, the song that held her fast within its grasp was entirely religious, and that confused and bewildered her.

Maybe it was the cold, the wind, the snow itself. It reminded her of something. A day she'd lived before, perhaps, in another life.

She tried to focus now, to access the more hidden memories of her previous hosts, just as Rigin had taught her to. The neural link between February and her symbiont was still healing, and so this was something that still took considerable effort on her part.

Yes, something about the snow and cold made her think of years spent on Earth, not only in her own childhood, but time spent on the planet as several of Grace's previous incarnations.

It was as she began thinking of one of those past incarnations in particular that she realized why she was thinking of this song today.

*Flashback*

It was snowing. Not just lightly, not just a little. It was snowing like mad as her boots slowly crunched through mounds of it that had piled up on top of the stone path.

There was a tall, lighted tree outside of the church, and she noted the sculpture of the Virgin Mary as she walked past it, through the enormously huge wooden doors which predated even the Grace symbiont, they had existed so long.

She observed the altar, the candles, the stained glass above her, and on either side of her. She felt unworthy to be in this place considered so holy, especially because of the way she'd led her life in the past year, but somehow, she needed to do this, it was something she just had to get through. So she moved up the aisle, and into the booth at the end.

"I wonder if they will even hear confession on the night before Christmas Eve?" she wondered aloud, as she knelt down.

A small window slid open, and she drew a deep breath.

"Bless me Father, I have sinned."

The priest on the other side of the confessional waited for her to finish the sentence. She did not, and so he finished it for her in the form of a question.

"How long has it been since your last confession?"

"Uh," Wen Grace replied, "Never."

"Never? I do not understand, my child."

"I'm sorry, Father. I'm not Catholic," she replied, "I'm not even Terran. A friend used to bring me here, when she came to Mass, and I was always struck by the. . ." she fought to find the right word. "Sacredness I felt here. The awe, even though I am not one of your children."

"We are all God's children." the old man replied, his tone kindly. "What is it that you seek here, young woman?"

"Sanc-tu-ary?" She said, stressing the word purposely in the hopes that the Father might get the ancient literary reference.

He did, and she could hear the gentle smile reflected in his voice. "So, Esmeralda, tell me, what is it that you are seeking sanctuary from?"

"From myself, Father. From the darkness inside my own heart. I'm afraid that it's getting the better of me, and I don't know how to stop it."

"All living beings have darkness inside of them, my child. It's the only way that we can recognize that we also have light."

"But I am afraid," Wen replied, her hands trembling. "Of what I might do, just to escape it. I just want to sleep."

The priest was now concerned by the tone of her voice, which clearly betrayed the fact that she was crying.

"What do you mean, what you might do?" Wen heard him shift in his chair. "Are you thinking of harming yourself in some way?"

He heard a rustling noise on the other side of the screen which obscured his face from hers, and hers from his. "My child?"

"I'm sorry. shouldn't have come. Thank you, Father, for your time."

The old wooden door creaked open, and a moment later, when the elderly man called out again, he heard no reply.

He exited the confessional and moved to the door of the cathedral, but he was too late, and she was too swift. She was gone.

That was the first and only indication that Wen Grace had ever given to anyone that she was not long for this life, before she quietly exited it. Being careful so that when she did so, she still left the Grace symbiont behind, alive. Leaving it to be placed into February.

*End Flashback*

"February," Dabin shook her gently. Without reason or warning, she had stopped moving forward. "What's wrong?" He looked gravely concerned. "I can't hear your thoughts. Just music. Music that I don't recognize."

She dismissed his question with a sad glance. "I'll tell you another time, I promise. We have to hurry."

Reece saw the small group of women and children up ahead at last, and catching sight of them Tybelle Maffe's speed of travel increased to a rate that no one thought she was capable of.

"Pick them up! The little ones!" she begged, and each officer quickly grabbed the first child they came to and lifted them out of the snow.

"Where," Salvek asked, speaking in halting, jagged words as he tried to catch his breath, "should we go, Andara?"

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Lt. February Grace
Helm/Flight Controller
USS Independence