About grief and life

Posted on 30 Dec 2024 @ 3:30pm by Ensign Kat Walker & Lieutenant Callisi Veera

2,610 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: Miranda
Location: Lounge

Life onboard USS Odin had returned to normal, more or less. People were going about their business, some crew from the Montana had integrated among the Odin's own. Of course, people were still talking about the events that happened, as is the case with every major event a ship and its crew goes through, but for the most part it was a case of 'life goes on'.

The lounge was not very busy at this time of day. A clique here and small groups there, some individuals spread out enjoying their drink or meal, the general murmur of muted conversations about topics this and that. One of the people - if you could call it that - in the lounge, was Ensign Kat Walker. Though normally always with that practiced, fake slight smile, now she sat with a more melancholic expression. One might even consider it sad. Obviously equally fake, just the product of algorithms and calculations. But something was obviously wrong enough to cause her internal spreadsheets to return a frowny face instead of a smiley.

The lounge doors swished open, allowing the resident rabbitess entrance. Large paws, confident stride, Callisi was in full form today. While many of the people were content to chat about what happened and what they just experienced, Callisi was just as comfortable to put all of it behind her and move on. That's how she usually responded to situations like this: Survive, package, move on. The repairs were coming along smooth, the schedule was fair, and things were well on their way to returning to routine. Pfft, routine. In this place. Highly unlikely.

Which brought her to the lounge today. An attempt at normalcy. A warm drink, a nibble, and just a moment's peace. That's when her eyes... eye slid over the lack of crowd to spot one Kat Walker. Synthetic. Unknown. Armed. Starfleet was so trusting. She picked up a cup of tea as close to her blends back on the front were, a small dish of cookies to pair with, and then made her way over to the Ensign. "The repairs are coming along promisingly. There should be no delay or deviation from the schedule." she said, simply, to the projection. That would have been that, except something twitched within Callisi. Not a physical twitch or tell, just something buried. A long time ago. Something from her early schooling.

"Trying a new expression?" she inquired, half interested in the answer. A projection of sorrow to intermix with projections of half involvement or slight smiles. A new mask for the portfolio. Reading people was never her strong suit, but this book tended to scream.

"Lieutenant," Kat greeted the Ts'usugi as the latter approached and addressed her, looking up to meet the rabbitess' eyes. "Thank you, for the update concerning my repairs," Truth be told she'd already been aware of the state of the repairs; a simple internal diagnostic told her what systems were and weren't operational. Fortunately the hit hadn't been as catastrophic as it could have been; it was mostly her propulsion and maneuvering systems that were damaged, along with her communication suite that had been out of commission. Her reactor, AI subsystems, weapons and internal space frame remained intact, meaning a series of intricate repairs and replacement of parts would see her back to active duty, without needing an overhaul or AI core transplant to a new space frame.

The Lieutenant's other question though caused Kat a moment of pause. "In a way," the ensign responded after a moment consideration. "I calculated this to be a more ... appropriate expression than my standard smile considering the internal issues I am experiencing. Data I find myself unable to resolve in a satisfactory manner, experiences that I am as of yet unable to parse and calculate and seem to cause incompatibilities with my directives. It is a ... software issue though, not a hardware one."

"Internal issues?" Callisi inquired. "What do you mean?" the gravity of this new line of repairs prompted Callisi to sit.

"I have been sent four times on non-combat related missions, now. Two I have completed successfully, two ended with me being disabled and brought down by hostile forces. I am ... Unsure, what to do about these numbers. I have re-run internal simulations of all four missions countless times, analyzing my decision making, trying to find ways to improve my performance, as so far I calculate a deeply unsatisfactory return upon investment for Odin's resources and crew in keeping me space and combat worthy," the Ensign explained, her voice quieter and with less energy, faked enthusiasm, than normal.

"Furthermore, I am ... unsure what to do with the teraquads of memories of Odin, and the numerous remaining open threads that will now never resolve, after her sacrifice to save us all. Algorithms developed to further promote and engage in interaction with a being that will no longer be able to provide the chance to do so," The AI construct concluded, gaze cast down, voice low. "I considered her a friend, for what meaning my definition of the word holds."

Callisi seemed to have an opinion forming on the first issue, but then the second issue arose. Her ears perked at the first issue, but slowly started to droop at the second. She pulled a small PaDD off her hip, swiped away all the work orders and to-do lists, and browsed through to a personal file. There, she brought up a picture of a woman, a Daughter of Ts'usu. She looked like Callisi's older sister, but not older by much. Maybe a few y--

"I lost my mother when I was seven."

A pause, to allow Kat to process. To scan the image. To see the map of features from mother to daughter. Callisi had her mother's eyes... eye.

"She worked in Imperial Prospecting. Some elements vital to the Imperial efforts cannot be safely fabricated, so they must be mined. Produced and harvested. Prospecting finds worlds utterly devoid of life, they bring a Slate Core-Priest along with them to bless the venture. Takes weeks once they're set up. She was on her way to another world, another site, another job. Just another trip. She never arrived." Callisi looked away, something obviously caught her eye to avoid direct eye contact.

"Her transport was intercepted. Another casualty from The Enemy." there was weight there. A significance.

"A picture is all we had. Memories. Regrets. Every question left unanswered. Every argument left unresolved. A tapestry with tattered edges, the eulogy read. When I saw her off on the shuttle, that was the last time I ever would see her. My last words to her were 'Come home soon'." she shook her head. "What do you do with all those memories? All those questions? All those regrets? When I find out, I'll let you know."

It took Kat a second to switch her drone from thermal and magnetic response camera to visual spectrum light camera and compare the 2D image on the PADD to the 3D Callisi, but the resemblance was certainly there. Similar bone structure, similarities in the facial features and expression - although Kat had very little experience with the Ts'usugi in general, she had encountered and studied enough biological beings to understand a very high likeliness of familial bond between Callisi and the 2D image on the PADD. Context helped as well, of course.

"I can tell by the change in pattern and tone of your voice there is still a lot of meaning there for you," was Kat's soft spoken response after another moment's silent contemplation. Such an odd response, though perhaps understandable coming from an AI that was in many ways still naive in the ways of empathy, lacking emotional maturity. "Being what I am I have the benefit of being able to set aside these ... unresolved threads and concentrate on topics that take priority without these matters interfering, but that does not solve them. Only delay them," beat. "Would it be alright for me to ask how you have dealt, or continue to deal, with your grief?"

"Family is very important to my people." Callisi said softly. She was silent for a moment, "Her death at their hands is what motivated me, every step of the way, from seven to seventeen, to fight. Schooling, academics, athletics... everything. Motivated because they took her away." Callisi had to calm down after a moment, worked up, fur frizzled, just..... she was angry. Visibly, audibly, every fiber of her form radiated anger. Arm Kat with family atomics, send her out unrestrained and unpruned, and Callisi might be SLIGHTLY less mad at that.

This was deep. This was cultural.

Breath. Breath. Breath. "I apologize." she offered, and that was that. "And yes, you may. I don't know if it will help you, but you may."

"A broader, closer understanding might help me formulate a method that works for me," was Kat's simple, gentle response.

"Grief." the rabbitess replied. "The realization of all the words and moments left unrealized. Every question ever, unanswered. Every future moment of togetherness is gone. Sometimes I see my mother's face in a crowd, or I get the sensation of being watched when I'm alone in a room and convince myself it's her. I try to imagine what she'd think, what she'd say. Grief is the mountain you have to climb, because the rest of your life is on the other side." poetic diagnosis from the Ts'usu.

"Does it ever stop hurting? No. Everyday it just hurts a little less. One day, after time, the hurt is manageable. But manageable isn't gone. Odin will always be just on the edge of our memory. Just on the edge of our perception. Just leaving the room we enter. Just missed them." a pause, "Everyone we lose is there, just beyond our reach."

Kat remained silent for a moment, contemplating Callisi's words. She didn't have much of a frame of reference, and could only theorize how these words applied to her, but she valued them nonetheless. More so because of who had said them to her. "Does imagining what she would think or say, based on your knowledge and understanding of her, help you complete unfinished - " Algorithms. Threads. " - interactions?"

"Yes and no. It helps in the moment, but it just reminds me that she's not there to finish our talks. I'm lucky, I suppose, that she was taken while I was so young. Not enough time to really have many unresolved moments, but at that age... all I have are unresolved moments." Callisi shook her head, choosing to look out a port window at the stars. "A reminder of how little I knew her, and how little time we had."

"Father tells me stories of her life. In my youth it helped me discover her, but as I grew older it just reinforced the woman I never had enough time to meet. An empty chair, an empty place set at the table, pictures of a woman who stopped appearing in photos later on. Sand in a bowl. The worst part are the things you forget simply due to being alive." she returned her glance to Kat.

"I've forgotten what she sounds like." she admitted. "The look as the wind ruffled her fur, the smell of fresh cookies, everything I remember clear. But when she opens her mouth to talk to me, it's not her voice. It'll never be her voice. Never again."

"That's grief. Conversations with ghosts in voices that stopped being their own. Memories to haunt the living. My mother only lives in the hearts of her family. In the deeds and accomplishments we do to wonder if she'd be proud."

"Odin helped me a lot when I had things I struggled with, during my pilot training. I suppose that in carrying forward her lessons part of her lives on in me, for some definition of 'living'," Kat offered quietly, a sad smile playing briefly on slightly-too-perfect holographic features. "Though I cannot calculate that she'd be proud of me for being brought down in half of the missions I have flown to this date. Not while staying true to the numbers and math," Beat. "It all comes back to unresolved equations that refuse to complete, that just return incompatible results."

Callisi considered for a moment, then just gave a nod, "That's life."

This answer seemed at first to puzzle Kat as she shook her head and seemed about to speak, then elected to remain silent for a moment and a moment longer as she considered the words. The entire situation. "If this is life then I consider myself fortunate that I am not," she answered eventually, looking back up at Callisi again. "Though I suppose it helps illustrate the age old axiom of the two sided coin. That without understanding rain, one cannot truly appreciate sunshine."

There was a ton to unpack there. A ton to respond to. Callisi let it all go, like water off a fowl. "You say that, but once you've lived, there's no substitute. No calculation. No expected result. Trust me, I know *all* about expected results." something clicked.

"And that, gives me an idea as to how to carry on Odin's legacy." and with that, she stood.

Kat stood as well, without a word. Quizzical expression making a reappearance.

"I can't comment on anything you need to compute the loss of Odin, but Odin's departure does leave a vacancy. You yourself said you're struggling with pilot training. And while any other pilot on the Odin could show you how to fly.." she crossed her arms over her chest, "There's only a handful with combat experience. I flew for years, deep behind enemy lines. Exfil, infil drops. Payloads and ordinance. Recon. Troop moves, and in the years of my service my otherwise flawless record has one single blemish."

"I'm going to talk to the Captain. I'm going to then work on helping you become a pilot I wouldn't mind on my wing. I can help you become something closer to what Odin saw in you." a bold statement from the Daughter of Ts'usu.

"If."

What Kat had been struggling with was being less predictable. Being an AI she had no actual genuine creativity, and only followed 'the book' on BFM - Basic Fighter Maneuvers - while in a dogfight. By then having only studied the Starfleet BFM manuals, this left her very predictable - and predictable pilots were dead pilots. What Odin had suggested was that other races also had BFM manuals, though by different names, and that the more fighter maneuvers from more species that Kat knew, the less predictable and this more effective she would be.

So the very idea of being able to learn Ts'usugi BFM was very much welcomed by the AI. This was a secretive race who's military tactics - including BFM - were not known by many, if any, outside their own people. Anything Kat could learn from Callisi would make her objectively a better pilot, and fed into her primary directives.

"I would appreciate that very much. Thank you, Lieutenant," Calculating that this was very likely the end of their discussion for the moment, the holographic projection gave a nod. "And thank you for taking the time to talk to me today. It is also very much appreciated."

"Don't thank me yet, on the first notion at least." Callisi advised. Still needed approval. A lot of work after that, plus her routine shift as well. "But in regards to the second, you're welcome. We'll both miss Odin, so in that regard, we're not too dissimilar."

 

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