Matriarchal Substitution

Posted on Fri Jul 5th, 2019 @ 4:06pm by Hera & Commander Rita Paris
Edited on on Mon Jul 22nd, 2019 @ 9:12am

Mission: Fractured Fairy Tales
Location: USS Hera, Deck 8, VIP quarters #11
Timeline: 2396, Post Tribunal

Having reviewed the options, Commander Rita Paris had a wealth of people to talk to when she had a problem. Asa Dael was the ship’s physician and counselor, which was a rare state of affairs on modern starships. But back in her day, the ship’s surgeon was also the ship’s counselor, so that wasn’t much of a stretch. But the young immortal was very busy these days, and Rita didn’t want to bother them.

Of course there was the captain, who would always make time and lend her an ear, but as this so directly impacted her, Rita didn’t think this was something to bring to her. Besides, they had discussed it, and Rita knew Enalia’s mind on the matter. Thus her guilt would only serve to undermine that relationship, which was inherently counterproductive.

While he knew her mind and no one cared for her more, Sonak often broke problems down logically, which worked well, save when the problem was an emotional one. His grasp of human nature and the way emotions affected people were very impressive, and he knew Rita like no one else ever could. But in this case, this was not something she wanted to necessarily discuss with her logical spouse.

While Dox, Thex and the rest of the senior staff were all close, somehow Rita could not bring herself to burden them with her problems. While none of them viewed her as an invulnerable trio of pips in a miniskirt, and had seen plenty of her all-too-human foibles, this wasn’t an issue she was comfortable burdening them with either. This was not entirely a personal problem, after all, and she could inadvertently undermine them as well if she were to share her thoughts and feelings on the matter.

Which left the ancient astronaut one rather unlikely shoulder to lean on… but then, somehow it seemed to be the right answer. Which is how she found herself at the door to Hera’s VIP guest quarters. After identifying herself to the honor guard, Paris entered and waited in the foyer as she announced herself.

“Hera? It’s Rita. Do you have a moment to talk…?”

Dozing lightly on her fainting couch, the ancient goddess had dropped her glamour and now appeared before Rita as the old woman that she was. If she were human she would likely be nearing 100, but being Ambrosian... Hearing Rita's voice, she awoke with a slight start and her semi-mature looks returned, fading in around her as her mental faculties returned with a yawn.

"Oh! Rita, my dear. It seems you caught me napping," Hera smiled brightly as she leaned over to pick up her book off of the floor and gently set it on the table next to her. "Please, tell me what I may do for you?"

“Are… are you alright…?” Rita asked cautiously. She’d never seen Hera look that old before, even when she was at death’s door, so she was immediately concerned. Plus she was napping more lately, which was also worrisome to the old-school officer. Hera was quite the mystery unto herself, but it was starting to look as though being on her namesake starship was taking a toll on the goddess. Now Rita had a dozen questions, none of which had anything to do with what had brought her to see the woman.

"Oh yes, perfectly fine. I'm just starting to feel my age, is all," Hera replied, waving her friend's concern off. "After all, I'm... I'm..." She took a moment to do some counting on her fingers. "Well... At least nine thousand cycles old now."

"But you didn't come here to ask a lady her age, now did you?" The matronly goddess had a twinkle in her eye as she got up and headed for the small dining table, which had a glass domed platter full of goodies that Hera had made herself in the small kitchenette as well as a wine bottle and several handmade goblets that had been gifted her over the course of her stay aboard the ship. "Please, join me for some refreshments and tell me what is on your mind, my dear."

"You. You're on my mind. Don't give me a deflection, tell me what's going on with you, Hera." In her mind she considered it before she spoke, realizing that simple logic gave her at least part of the answer, if not the core truth of it. If she asked, Hera would likely tell her the truth. The question was, could she handle that truth?

The answer came from a part of her she wasn't fond of getting in touch with, and it filled her eyes with tears she blinked back. In her heart, the explorer knew that she did not want to know. Not here, not now. Soon, perhaps. But the truth was a bit more than she could bear right now already. Looking at her hands, she began to speak softly.

"I killed someone, Hera. I killed someone I didn't mean to kill. I discorporated her corporeal form into energy, and without a unifying field, she dissipated. Poof. Flare of the ultraviolet and gone, not even a blast shadow to mark her passing. I killed a woman by accident, Hera." Looking up, tears filled the young woman's eyes. "I've killed a few people since I came here. Most were in combat. But your general, back on Meroset 347... I could have wounded him, taken him out of the fight. But I didn't take the chance- I expected reinforcements to storm the position, so I executed him."

"Bang. Cold blood. Bullet beamed through the brainpan. And I shot Arenara Artan with a phaser set to 'kill'. Was it an accident?" Rita stared off into the distance, eyes focused on a point only she could see as she whispered. "Did I know, subconsciously? Was I just too preoccupied, or was that what I was planning?"

Looking to the matron goddess, the impossible officer's eyes were wide, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I don't... I don't know, Hera. I think... I might have lost my way."

"Oh my sweet, sweet girl..." Hera headed over and pulled Rita into her embrace, stroking her short hair softly. "I'm so sorry you have to go through this. I could give you rationale and reasoning and... But in the end, none of it would help you feel better, would it? No, what you need is a mother. I'm here for you, Rita. Just let it all out and I'll listen, ok?"

Swept into a matronly embrace, Rita Paris wept, and wept uncontrollably. She cried for the life she had taken never meaning to. She cried for the life she took when she should have found a better way. She cried for the loss of innocence that being a killer brought with it, and she cried for the stain she would forever carry upon her soul. She cried for the future she feared, and for what she might become. And through it all, while she did murmur and form some intelligible words, for the most part it was simple catharsis that she needed.

It would do harm to others for her to release her pent-up emotion thusly. Sonak loved her beyond life itself, but his calm and logical touch was not the remedy for this heartache. Nor sisters nor friends nor anyone else would do for the absolution she sought. It had been many years since she had found comfort in her own mother's arms, for she had been taken early, and Rita had grown up without such comfort. But here, now, in the arms of the goddess of women, mothers and family, the lost navigator cried like a child in her mother's arms.

"Shh... There you go... Let it all out..." As Hera cooed softly and reassuringly, she continued to smooth Rita's hair and gently hold her until she started to calm down. Once she did, the matronly goddess guided her over to the small dining table and sat down with her, still with one arm wrapped around her as she opened the glass domed food tray. "Here, have one of these chocolate fudge bars I made."

While she wasn't much for sweets, a habit the athletic astronaut had picked up along with most of her food issues when she was young, right now that sounded exactly like what she needed. So Rita picked one out, and took a rather healthy bite, to let the chocolate, icing and fudge swirl around in her mouth. Intellectually she knew that the flood of endorphins that followed them would help resettle the emotional executive's upset brain chemistry. Wiping at her eyes with the backs of her hands, Rita sniffled even as Hera handed her a tissue. Blowing her nose in a most unladylike fashion, Rita slumped a bit in the chair.

"Thank you... I guess I really needed that," Rita offered, looking over at Hera with her eyes shining, but not refilling with tears. "That's... that's been a while in coming, I think. Seems I've been damming it up, eh?"

"We all need a good cry sometimes, my dear." Hera smiled her most motherly smile as she dried the eyes of the buxom bombshell. "Have you gotten it all out for now?"

“I think so,” Rita admitted, wiping off her face. “It’s just… this future, when I got here, it seemed so… so dark. And I was worried that instead of upholding the ideals and optimism of my era, I would become… more of a reflection of this time and place. I worry about that… and then… “ In her mind’s eyes, she could still see the bluish glowing silhouette of Arenara Artan as she disintegrated, from a weapon fired by the hand of Rita Paris. It played out again, and every time she still felt that knot of guilt in her stomach. The dread responsibility for having taken a life she had no intention of ending.

“It… she had horrible plans for Enalia, and I have no regrets over stopping her. The woman was vile. But… killing her by accident was not… it isn’t acceptable, Hera. Enalia forgave me, the admiralty isn’t going to punish me over it, but… I still feel it. I still see her. And it makes me review my actions, and wonder if I am just taking the easy way out. Was it an accident? Or am I just becoming a darker reflection of the times? I don’t know, Hera, and honestly? That possibility scares me.”

Then Hera pulled Rita in for a hug once more, but didn't hold it long. "Oh my sweet, dear Rita. All those in such times question themselves in similar ways. One thing I've seen over the ages though... one invariable constant... is the resilience of Humans. In each generation, Heroes have arisen to fight oppression and corruption, and in you I sense the same resolve and strength as Bellerophon, Boudica, Beowulf, Leonidas... even Hercules, as much as I resented him back then."

"I wish you did not have to bear this burden... However, I know that there is no one better suited for it. I have borne witness to the strength of your character, and found you a match for any I have ever met... and more. Even Maat would find it hard to weigh your heart against that of his feather."

"On top of that, unlike heroes of the past, you are a hero of Starfleet. I may have heard it said that no one in Starfleet is ever alone," Hera mentioned, looking innocent as she quoted Rita's own words back to her. "Not only do you have your husband to share your burdens, but your entire crew and Fleet of Stars..." Hera waived airily before bringing her fingertips down to brush her chest over her heart. "Even me, because you reminded me of who I once was, and who I could be once again. The actions you regret may have been yours, but the burden is the shared responsibility of those you call your friends and... How is it you would put it? Your fellow officers, your crew, your shipmates?"

"So all of this is just an old lady's way of telling you that no, you are not a darker reflection of this age. Quite the contrary, you are a bearer of light in the dark places- a Hero of the age. Sometimes Heroes must be called upon to perform great feats of sacrifice, for the greater good. You have performed a number of such feats." Taking Rita's hands in her own, Hera gazed into the bright blue eyes of the young woman from so long ago, yet the blink of an eye to such as herself.

"I will not tell you to be proud of those acts, for I know that they weigh heavily upon your conscience. The fact that you feel remorse is part of what makes you a hero, woman. But instead of dwelling upon that weight," Hera patted Rita's hand gently, "I will remind you to remember all of the immense good that has been wrought from those actions- not for yourself, but for the universe."

Surprised to hear such a thing and feeling taken aback by it, Rita realized that this was what basking in maternal pride felt like. Being told that they were proud of you, that you had made the right calls and choices, that you were doing the right thing, and to trust yourself. Enalia was more of a peer to her, even with the rank between them that meant Rita would always defer to her. But they respected one another, and it was earned on both sides. Dox too was a peer, although they would always have a big sister/younger sister dynamic as mentor and mentee. Rita had taught her how to be an officer, and always encouraged her to be herself and trust her heart, and she too was a hero in her own right.

Sonak was proud of her and still found her fascinating after all these years, but that was a very different relationship. In both they saw the other half of the universe, and like the balance of yin and yang, anima and animus, they would always orbit one another and challenge, grow and enrich one another's lives. Asa Dael would outlive them all, but they would always be the kid to Rita, the immortal El-Aurian who she would encourage to never lose the childlike wonder of discovery that they embodied. When she had problems like this, Asa would likely have good answers- but they didn't need to see that side of the golden commander they would and could follow into hell.

While Sam had seen a thing or two, he wasn't the one to come to when you needed to cry on his shoulder. Thex was a wonderful friend, but she was dealing with a new instant family, and despite their similarities and friendship, a lot of Rita's feeling and concerns were often, for lack of a better word, alien to the sapphire-skinned spanner jockey. The Baroness was growing distant, because soon she would leave to go and be with her new family in New Asgard, and the platinum-tressed pirate was not good at good-byes, Rita suspected. So many others aboard were friends who were family, and she treasured them all.

But here and now, Rita had sought comfort in the company of the very living embodiment of women, mothers, and families. The tyrant of Meroset 347, reformed and choosing to aid the denizens of the starship that bears her name, the Greek goddess Hera. Because when she doubted herself, and she needed to not be the Commander; not be the steady voice of surety that lent confidence to others, the wise turn of phrase that experience had lent her, nor the words and attitudes and traditions of her Starfleet legacy. When the time came to pass when she needed to just question herself, and be told that she was not wanting, that she was not failing, and it was all right for her to be simply human, it seemed, as was the way with her people, what was needed more than anything else was a mother's soothing touch and words, a caress with a reassurance, and a shot of maternal pride.

Because sometimes even Commander Rita Paris needed a mom.