Never and a Day

Posted on Thu 10th Jul, 2025 @ 2:09pm by Commander Heriah Rex

1,628 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: The Phoenix Gamble
Location: Heriah's Quarters
Timeline: Current

“There is something I was once told,” Heriah leaned back in her chair. Rikata Mol, her counselor whilst at the Academy, now back on Trillius Prime, was looking back at her through the computer screen. Their eyes met though many lightyears of space stretched between them. “…a great apocalypse awaits you,” she continued. “Such a profound word, ‘apocalypse.’ Surround yourself with those who know and love you. Only then, will you survive the waiting apocalypse.”

“You told me this one,” Rik said with a smile. “Many times now.”

“But what if I do not?” Heriah continued. “Is that to say that not surrounding myself with those who know and love me will prove fatal?”

“Absolutely not,” Rik said. He had this conversation memorized already. But, every now and then, Heriah wanted to revisit it, to attempt to better understand it.

“Not doing so will keep the information hidden,” Heriah said. “It is always a hard lesson to learn; that you may never truly known yourself until you surround yourself with those who know and love you. Otherwise, what is hidden may very well remain hidden. Not doing so will not prove fatal. On the contrary, not surrounding yourself with…you know…will actually keep you safe.”

“But unknowing,” said Rik. “You will be safe, but unknowing of what awaits you. And have you…surrounded yourself with those who know and love you?”

Heriah thought briefly, about Elaine, Entaaro, Gordon, and the many others she had met and worked with whilst aboard 109. She could not easily surround herself with just one person. She had to make new connections.

“I have been trying,” was Heriah’s response. “These things are not to be rushed and apocalypses are not to be sought. Let connections happen,” she said to Rikata but mostly to herself whilst repeating the words Rikata had spoken to her many times already, “ and let them happen naturally and the knowledge you seek will eventually present itself. I cannot say when, but there is no substitute for surrounding yourself with those who know and love you.”

“And do you?” she asked.

After a brief pause, Rikata returned with, “I’m sorry. What? Love you?”

Heriah nodded; smiled.

“It comes with the job,” he said. “That is not to say I have to…I choose to. Intrinsically and platonically? Yes, I do. You don’t…feel like…everyone hates you. Do you? That you have no one to turn to?”

Heriah looked down, shaking her head. “No. It’s not that. I just…I just want to know what it is that is missing from me. That religious whack job said…well, you know what he said. I just want to know what it is I am supposed to know.”

“And that is the journey of us all,” Rik said in return.

Their conversation carried on a bit longer as such; friends catching up with each other with the former counselor having a hard time breaking from the job. Once they were done and the connection ended, Heriah thought shortly. Rex’s thoughts were flooding her mind and, in an attempt to quite down those thoughts, she decided to turn to reading.

She returned to the seating area and picked up the Codex of Ț'Ril, opening it back to her bookmark.

’A moment ago you called that religious whack job a religious whack job. Now you want to read scripture?’

Heriah ignored the sudden thought. She realized she was nearing the one-third mark of the codex and was only understanding maybe a third of what she had read up to that point. Figuring that was the best she could hope for at the moment, Heriah pressed onward. Even the high priest of the Alle’Ke’Zonda’er said that he did not fully understand the codex in its entirety. Not even considering herself to be part of their religion, Heriah decided to accept that she may never fully understand its contents.

Finding where she left off, Heriah continued.

"

Five and ten days into the fifth month of the third year after the festival of Ril’s seventh joining, Ț'Ril travelled the countryside and, upon witnessing the crowds of uncountable numbers behind her, went to a nearby hill and ascended its slope half way. There, she sat upon a rock. “Alle’Ke’Zonda’er is this rock for it knows not what it does but it serves its purpose to the fullest. Such is the way of all creation not understanding itself within the age of reason and to the fullest of abilities to reject the good and accept the bad. You,” and Ț'Ril waved an outstretched hand over the crowds below, pointing at the people below, “you can only try to be Alle’Ke’Zonda’er. Intent never guarantees fruition. Some of my words you will understand and much you will not. The time of my final passing comes closer but will strike at a time I know not. Such is the way for you all. Therefore, I say unto you, lovest one another and knowest one another. Only then shall a great apocalypse befall you all and only with each other can you see to the survival of your brethren and you sisteren. Knowest each other not, lovest each other not and you will be safe from the great apocalypse. Yet you will be more like the rock upon which I sit. Unknowing of your ways, outside the age of reason and serving a purpose you know not.” The crowds looked on in silence and in ill-understanding of the words that were spoken to them. Ț'Ril rose from the rock and, realizing her words were not yet understood, ascended the hill further, crossed the crest and went down the other side.

"

Wait.

Heriah turned back one page and re-read the part of ‘lovest one another and knowest one another.’ Her memories took her back to when she visited the Alle’Ke’Zonda’er and met with the high priest. At the time and for the years that followed, she had thought the high priest was speaking prophetically as though, if there were an entity such as Ț'Ril, she was speaking through him, or at least giving him the words to speak.

“All this time,” and her words ended but her thought continued with, ‘he was reciting scripture.’

’See? Nothing but a regurgitation of what is written in that silly little book.’

Heriah put the book down and closed it. With the bookmark off to the side, she picked it up and placed it atop the codex. Picking up where she left off later was suddenly not a priority. She rose from her seat and went to the window, looking out upon the stars.

’He recited scripture to you.’

“He recited scripture to me. All this time I thought…” and her words ended again. She thought of how the high priest indicated to her that there was something Ț'Ril wanted him to tell her. If it was all true, and since the words were written within the codex, of course Ț'Ril would have wanted her to know. Ț'Ril would have wanted everyone to know, whether they would read the codex or not.

Still, there was something about it all that ate at Heriah. A younger and unjoined Heriah, trying to find her place in the universe apart from her family’s business, wanted to know what was meant for her life. She had wanted something profound that would define her. She felt the high priest was giving her more than simply repeating the words written in the codex.

’That is what life is. Repeat. Sorrow and repeat. Sorrow and repeat.’

After her own father left the family when she was younger, Heriah never did find another father figure. She had considered the possibility of finding one in Gordon, perhaps 109’s own counselor. Gordon, however was her captain and she had managed to avoid any counseling sessions aboard 109 so far. So, those two were out.

’See? Sorrow. Might as well end it all now.’

“I know not the time of my passing. And I shall not make it now,” Heriah said as she turned and looked back at her quarters. It all seemed somewhat lifeless, joyless, emotionless.

Heriah thought on how much longer she would need to try to surround herself with those who would know and love her. After that, given that the feat was even possible, how long would it take for her own apocalypse to come about.

’Never and a day.’

“Rex…why do you…” and she had a realization.

Heriah hurried to her bed and sat upon it, reaching for her monocorder atop the nightstand. Placing it upon her finger, she sat back holding her hand out in front of her watching in anticipation for the result.

The monocorder returned with a solid red light.

Heriah felt herself on her neck, massaged the sides of her neck under her jaw and left her hand slide down her chest, eventually falling into her lap.

“Low isoboramine.”

’Yeah. Low isoboramine. What are you going to do about it? Drugs?”

She reached into the drawer and fetched her benzocyatizine-filled hypospray.

’Drugs it is then.’

Pressing the hypospray to her neck, she pressed the release button and heard a miserable little hiss issue forth. Only about a quarter dosage entered her system. Looking at the hypospray for any malfunctions, Heriah realized it was a not-so-filled hypospray, but rather, now, an empty hypospray.

’What do you do when the drugs run out?’

Heriah pulled the monocorder off her finger, replacing it on her nightstand and stood. “I go get more.”

 

RSS Feed

Comments (2)