Chapter Text
The weather had not cooperated, but nobody appeared to give it much thought. The old Presidio parade ground at Starfleet Academy endured a light rain under misty San Francisco skies.
The viewing stands were filled with a mix of dignitaries, Starfleet brass, and family members of Sagan’s crew, both those living as well as those fallen in the line of duty. Media drones darted about, selecting the best angles for holo-images of the event.
A short line of officers, cadets, and enlisted personnel stood at attention. They were the twenty-seven survivors of the training starship Sagan, all that remained from that vessel’s compliment of four-hundred and thirty-nine souls. Behind them were arrayed forty-four flag draped coffins containing the remains of those of the crew killed on Arandis IV.
Behind the coffins were rows of flag-shrouded photon torpedo tubes, representing the three-hundred sixty eight crewmembers killed aboard Sagan whose remains were vaporized in the destruction of that ship.
The academy superintendent, Rear-Admiral Norah Satie ascended the dais and moved to the lectern.
“All those arrayed here, both living and deceased, represent the best of Starfleet’s tradition of courageous service. You faced overwhelming odds with little hope of relief, yet you held your ground. Many gave their lives aboard Sagan to slow the enemy’s advance, and more fell defending the colony on the surface.
“Your efforts guaranteed the safety of thousands of Federation citizens. I dearly hope that the lives you’ve saved make the terrible sacrifices you were forced to make more bearable.
“We know that you are wounded, some in body, many in soul, and that your recovery will take time. We know that words alone cannot mend those hurts, and so as you defended the lives of those colonists, we solemnly pledge to support you as you take the necessary steps to recuperate from those injuries.
“To demonstrate our collective gratitude for your actions, I am honored to bestow upon each of you the Starfleet Decoration for Valor and Gallantry, so nobly earned in defense of the Federation.”
Satie paused in front of each individual, shaking their hand and pinning the medal to their dress uniform tunic. Holographic versions of the decoration appeared atop the caskets and photorp-tubes of the deceased, signifying the posthumous receipt of the honors that would be awarded to their families.
The admiral arrived in front of Sandhurst, and as she affixed the decoration to his tunic she murmured, “Well done, Cadet.”
He stood ramrod straight, eyes forward. “Thank you, sir.”
The admiral decorated Lar’ragos next to him, and as she moved on down the line, Sandhurst murmured to the El-Aurian sotto voce, “I don’t feel like a hero.”
“Good,” Lar’ragos replied in a similar subdued tone. “You’re not.”
The formation was dismissed after a handful of other dignitaries finished prepared speeches, and the viewing stands began to empty as family members and Starfleet luminaries made their way down to the parade ground to mingle or pay their respects to the fallen.
Sandhurst raised a hand, waving to his parents who began heading towards the pair.
“But aren’t we supposed to be heroes? The admiral said we were.”
Lar’ragos grunted sourly. “That’s public relations. The only heroes were those who didn’t return. They gave up their futures, everything they might have done, might have been. You and I, we simply did our jobs and were lucky enough to live.”
Sandhurst glanced sidelong at the much older man. “A job, is that all this is to you?”
“That remains to be seen.” He touched a finger to the decoration pinned to his chest. “They obviously appreciate our efforts, hence these shiny bits of metal they gave us.”
The younger cadet shook his head. “I really don’t understand you.”
Lar’ragos nodded sagely as he prepared to meet Sandhurst’s family. “Yeah, I get that a lot.” He ran his hands over his form fitting cadet dress uniform, finally fishing an isolinear chip out of a hidden pocket. “Oh, before I forget, here’s your housing info for next term.”
“Mine?” Sandhurst gave him a suspicious look. “Why do you have my housing chit?”
Lar’ragos clapped him on the back gregariously as Sandhurst’s parents approached. “Because we’re going to be roomies, my friend! Won’t that be grand?”
Sandhurst’s mother and father found him speechless and attributed it to the magnitude of the event.
* * *
Northern Alberta, Canada
The flitter whispered to a stop at the end of the gravel road, the ten hectare farm spread out before them at the mouth of the valley. The pair exited the air-car slowly, as though savoring the moment.
The wind blustered and Cavanaugh raised the collar of her coat against its intrusion. She walked around the vehicle to where Morozov was gazing into the distance, absorbing the seemingly endless Northern Canadian vista.
She hugged him tightly and he returned the embrace.
“So… this is it?”
“Da,” he intoned playfully in his mother tongue. “A house, a barn and several outbuildings. It can be as automated or back-breaking as we wish. When we’re feeling lazy, we can let the robots do all the work.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” she replied, nuzzling her face into his collar for warmth. “Are you sure this is what you want, Evgeni?”
“It is,” he assured her. “It reminds me of where I grew up, though this place is not quite as unforgiving as Siberia.”
“And me?” she asked, looking at him directly. “You’re certain this isn’t just a fling? We’re not just clinging to each other because we’ve survived yet another tragedy while our friends didn’t?”
Morozov grunted, dismissing the idea. “This is our reward, Irene. Decades of service, countless years of sacrifice and delayed gratification for the sake of our careers. Here is where it finally pays off.”
Cavanaugh threaded her arm through his, turning to share his view out onto what was now their land. The concept seemed so foreign to her after a lifetime of transient existence aboard starships and starbases, outposts and hospitals. Home. She shook her head at the alienness of the idea.
“It is our duty to love this place, to work the land however we see fit. Not just for ourselves, but for all those who will never have the chance. We’re living for them, too.“
Cavanaugh sighed, nodding. “That’s a beautiful way to look at it.”
“Here,” Morozov said, breaking their embrace and kneeling. He withdrew a trowel from his jacket pocket and dug a small hole in the fertile earth at their feet. Into the hole he dropped their now deactivated combadges. He filled in the hole and stepped on the dirt to compact it.
“There, at least they’ll know how to find us,” he chuckled.
“So we’re done… officially?” she asked, grinning.
“Barring an emergency reservist activation, which hasn’t happened in almost a century, yes.”
“The University of Alberta Hospital has accepted my transfer, and I can start there following my sabbatical.”
“And how long is that, my dear?” he inquired.
“As long as I damn well please,” she announced, smiling broadly.
Morozov moved forward, then turned and offered Cavanaugh his hand. She grasped it and fell into step beside him, walking towards their new future together.
“Home?” she asked.
“Home,” he affirmed proudly.
* * * END ***