SD241810.12 | JL | Capt Neyes, Cmdr Tristan Neyes | "Ad Astra Per Aspera" Pt 1

Posted on Sun Feb 19th, 2023 @ 12:13am by Admiral Rochelle Ivanova & Captain Landon Neyes & Commander Tristan Neyes PhD.

1,467 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Lacuna
Timeline: BACKLOG

Day One:

The coarse beating of his heart filled the space in his ears, behind his eyes, and under his fingernails. Blood surged like hot plasma through the veins in his arms, and down his legs. The dark circles crunched around his eyes as Landon clamped them shut, tightly sealing out the world. Frozen air seared against his skin every time someone walked past, and every moment felt like a new session of torture. Torture more primal and real than anything Tr’bak had been able to dish out. Was this what dying was like? No, he knew what that felt like. Being stabbed in the chest left an impression that last time. There was a sense of finality to being sure your end is moments away. A longing peace at the inevitable, imminent quiet closing in upon you. The juxtaposed silence and raging discomfort worming its way through his insides made him want to release. Vomit, scream, die, anything but this.

Something grabbed him, tearing at his arm.

He screamed. Landon was forced to open his eyes with a grunt, and the glare of a thousand suns bore down into them. At once terrified of what grabbed him, and again at the lights blinding him of his assailant. Wetness rolled down from his eyes, drenching the sides of his face as the tears ran alongside the sweat. "DO'URALITH LIDAX'OD UJWIDARET XAG XAG!" He screamed again, spittle flying from his mouth as he bared his teeth.

"It's me. Tristan. We're getting you help." Tristan strolled astride the mobile hover-bed as they moved him from the Horizon to the hospital transport. He felt his own throat tighten as his big brother lost himself. It was like watching someone come undone, forgetting everything and becoming something feral… dangerous. No, it wasn’t ‘like’ anything. The unraveling

The air burned Landon’s throat as he took sharp breaths, something was pressing down on his chest. He could barely breathe. Oh Gods the burning! "Get it off! Who's Landon?! This is a mistake! Keldex! Keldex where are you!?" Landon screamed. His eyes darted from side to side, locking into nothing. His iris’ were entirely lost in the vastness of his pupils.

Voices murmured. "The symbionts losing personality complexion. We've seen this before."

Straps. Landon could see straps. Tying down his feet and hands.

Day 174:

“Get off me, brother.” Landon hissed, his muscles flaring as he pushed against the force holding him down. The floor of their room was hard, cold, and under normal circumstances would have been a sobering reminder of how awful it was hit rock bottom. This… this though was lost to Landon’s senses. He could feel nothing but the turbulent rhythm of his heart racing in his throat. The sting of his eyes as they watered, some kind of abhorrent form of crying he had no control over whatsoever. The nibbling agony threatening to crush him permanently.

“She doesn’t know! He’s OUT THERE!.” Landon cried, “He’s… He could be here!”

“Trust me, she knows,” Tristan grunted, using the wall as leverage as he pinned Landon to the floor. “I need assistance! NOW, please!”

It had been a rough six months, and Landon was still having breakdowns. Whenever he’d settle into a routine of meditation and other therapies, Rochelle would refuse to speak with him and it would start all over again. As a therapist, and someone who knew her quite well, Tristan had difficulty faulting her for her stance on the matter. Her relationship with Landon was what an author would call an epic, and everyone knew it. As two powerful, beautiful and passionate people who commanded more than the Vindicator together, their love felt unbeatable at times. A mountain in the storm, bearing the worst but surviving in the end. Rochelle had trusted Landon on a level Tristan himself was probably incapable of understanding, and often times he questioned the length the Commodore would go to in an effort to extend that trust to him. The thing was though, Landon’s past had always had a funny way of resurfacing from the depths.

“I have to stop him, to save them! You can’t keep me here!” Landon shouted.

“I can and have been for just short of six months, brother. I need you to try and relax. Tr’Bak is not here. Rochelle and Vaan are fine.” Tristan’s voice strained as he held Landon down. The withered, slim and shell of Landon resembled little of the powerful creature they’d brought in. He refused to eat. Refused to sleep. Any exercise was out of the question, short of the turbulent fits of rage he’d become alarmingly prone to. Landon could focus on nothing else, Rochelle and Vaan. Short of that, the only respite Tristan had from the waking nightmare of existentially losing his brother was when Landon couldn’t remember who Landon was. A past host would surface from time to time, granting them a challenging, but more restful interface with which to handle him.

Landon struggled more, “Please let me talk to her!”

When he’d come back though, was a question Tristan wasn’t sure he’d be able to answer.

Present:

Neyes leaned against the railings of his new apartment on Earth, looking out over the ocean and the bay. He was comfortable almost anywhere at this point, and thankful to have anywhere to call his own. Disgraced Captain or no, there was a privilege in the being who he was, and the apartment was proof. The choice to come to Earth after being released from the rehab clinic on Trill was his own, and Tristan had been more than willing to tag along. With Starfleet headquartered on Earth, and his little brother still a commissioned officer, the choice wasn’t a difficult one for the two of them. Landon wanted to be where things were happening, and their errant home on Cesparia was too difficult a reminder of the things they’d lost. Their parents, his business. Leaving Starfleet was the easiest decision Landon had made in a long time if he was honest with himself. The placement never seemed to fit with him, and though he’d ridden the currents of a successful enough career, he’d gained only two things real to him. His son, and his wife.

The sun had started to set down across the ocean in San Francisco, and the wind chased it down toward the vast sea. On Trill the waters captured a faint purple light, but here the waters were a deep dark green and blue. He loved it. The glowing reds and oranges of the evening light danced gently on the glassy surfaces of the city. Shuttles casually made their way to wherever the occupants were headed. A cool breeze picked up as the sky darkened, tossing his hair down over his face. He’d decided to start growing it out, and it rested neatly combed. The wind was a reminder to take a moment and enjoy what he had. Setting everything aside for just a moment, alone with himself, his eyes closed and Landon took a deep breath.

This was it. He could let it all go now, and start something new. Maybe go anywhere and everywhere he wanted. Come back and watch his son grow up when Rochelle came into port. Be a part of his life, but just out of reach. Maybe that was better. Rochelle would be free of him. Vaan could live out his life never haunted by the fact his father’s face would one day be replaced by a young stranger’s. There was a freedom at that moment, something Landon had forgotten to consider, or had at least forgotten he’d had before. Tempting as leaving his mistakes behind him was, there was no room in him to abandon Rochelle a second time. As soon as the thought entered him, it shattered as the quiet rage inside him burned.

Rochelle would be on-mission soon enough, leaving him here to occasionally call in over the holocom. There was something he needed to do before anything else, though. Before he could think about life. Someone to take care of.

The door to his home chimed, and Landon turned back to face inside, gently making his way into the main room, “Enter.”

A woman, young, clean but obviously traveled entered through the occluded glass door. Her auburn hair tightly pulled into a braided bun. She smiled wryly and put down a large case on the island in the entry. Her blue eyes looked up Landon and she blew him a sarcastic, quick little kiss, “Hello, Darling. How have you been?”

Landon eyed the case, “I’ll be better soon.”

=/\= To Be Continued… =/\=

 

RSS Feed