Post by Deleted on Feb 27, 2013 10:45:01 GMT -8
When she’d been a little girl, the Promenade at Deep Space 9 had excited Rychel in the way few other places could. There was always a ton of people bustling around; officers performing their duties, shopkeepers selling their wares, tourists gawking at the wormhole through the windows. Almost on cue, the wormhole appeared and Rychel sighed as she watched a Galaxy-class starship come through.
Many of her people had taken the events of the past thirty years as proof of the existence of the prophets. They’d chosen an Emissary, and through his leadership, said Emissary had protected Bajor from outside threats. Several Starfleet officers had been in contact with the Prophets. Still, Rychel couldn’t view them as deities... not even after they saved Dakbar’s life.
Starfleet had encountered numerous powerful entities; the “Prophets,” the Medusans, Q... just because an entity was powerful didn’t necessarily make Rychel compelled to worship it. She knew that her refusal to wear the traditional earring had made numerous Bajorans aboard DS9 stare at her. Faith was a given amongst these people; these Bajorans born after the Emissary, after proof, after the end of Cardassian rule. It was especially unusual given the fact she was out of uniform. Looking down at the simple sundress she wore, she spun around once, noting with amusement how the light fabric whirled out around her knees. It pays to be easily amused sometimes.
Her gaze drifted over to the temple, and she considered entering for a moment. She owed them Dakbar’s life. And though he was presently ignoring her, so long as he was alive there was always the chance of future happiness.
I just wish I knew what I could do to make him forgive me, she thought. Dakbar did not appear to be the forgiving type, however.
Rychel sighed. She’d thrown herself into her work with gusto, and had managed to keep herself from thinking about the matter too much. But now, with being on leave and with having precious little else to distract herself, she found the pressure of her worry beginning to wear on her.
“I should really find a better use of my time,” she murmured.
Tag: Any
Many of her people had taken the events of the past thirty years as proof of the existence of the prophets. They’d chosen an Emissary, and through his leadership, said Emissary had protected Bajor from outside threats. Several Starfleet officers had been in contact with the Prophets. Still, Rychel couldn’t view them as deities... not even after they saved Dakbar’s life.
Starfleet had encountered numerous powerful entities; the “Prophets,” the Medusans, Q... just because an entity was powerful didn’t necessarily make Rychel compelled to worship it. She knew that her refusal to wear the traditional earring had made numerous Bajorans aboard DS9 stare at her. Faith was a given amongst these people; these Bajorans born after the Emissary, after proof, after the end of Cardassian rule. It was especially unusual given the fact she was out of uniform. Looking down at the simple sundress she wore, she spun around once, noting with amusement how the light fabric whirled out around her knees. It pays to be easily amused sometimes.
Her gaze drifted over to the temple, and she considered entering for a moment. She owed them Dakbar’s life. And though he was presently ignoring her, so long as he was alive there was always the chance of future happiness.
I just wish I knew what I could do to make him forgive me, she thought. Dakbar did not appear to be the forgiving type, however.
Rychel sighed. She’d thrown herself into her work with gusto, and had managed to keep herself from thinking about the matter too much. But now, with being on leave and with having precious little else to distract herself, she found the pressure of her worry beginning to wear on her.
“I should really find a better use of my time,” she murmured.
Tag: Any