Voices in the Darkness

Posted on Thu Sep 19th, 2019 @ 8:00pm by Jaeih Dox-t'Aan
Edited on on Sun Sep 22nd, 2019 @ 6:28pm

Mission: Family Detention
Location: Brig of The People's Will
Timeline: 2396

Yesterday...

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It was difficult to concentrate for Jaeih Dox. The cell was small and she had lost track of how long she had been there. She and her daughter, Mnhei’sahe, had been taken by force by agents of the Tal’Shiar. She knew she was on a Warbird. In her heart, she knew they were being taken back to ch’Rihan. To the world she both loved and feared in equal measure more than anyplace in the universe.

But that was all that she knew for the longest time. In that first day, the guards that had beamed the two women aboard said nothing as they were separated. Jaeih had tried to protest, reaching for her stunned and unconscious daughter, but the butt of a disruptor rifle to her belly ended that quickly enough. She could fight them, but she had sworn that she wouldn’t in exchange for their attackers letting her daughter-in-law, Mona Gonadie, go. They had, so she obeyed.

They led her to the cell. Small, bare and dark, and ordered her to strip, clean herself with the small refresher in the corner, and change into the provided clothes. She did as instructed through gritted teeth, hoping that she would eventually speak to someone to explain what was going to happen. Nobody came.

For what she would later be told was two long weeks, nothing happened. Every morning, she cleaned herself and changed her clothes, but the process was automated now. Fresh clothes were beamed in. Occasionally, a guard would walk down the dark corridor at the end of her cell block, but that was the only sign of life she had seen. She heard no voices and saw no faces. She was alone.

For the first three days, she endeavored to maintain some sense of personal control. She exercised or simply tried to think. She knew in her heart what must have happened. The thing that she had feared for decades had to have come to pass. Mnhei’sahe’s grandmother… the mother of her lost love, Dralath, had to have discovered that she now had a granddaughter.

She had gone to intense lengths to hide Mnhie’sahe. She changed her daughter's name. Surgically altered her appearance and even her genetic code to appear to be half-human to mask her true father’s DNA signature. She then lied to Mnhei’sahe about it all. Convinced her that her memories were only dreams. And then only dreams of a dream. She crafted an illusion of a childhood and told Mnhei’sahe, then called ‘Melanie’, that her life was different from her memories. And she reinforced that false narrative over and over until the 5 year old girl came to believe the lie and forget the truth. It was a despicable thing to do to a child and she knew it. But ignorance of the truth, Jaeih hoped, could be a shield of sorts. If she didn’t know, she wouldn’t go looking for answers she didn’t know she didn’t want. And for a time… it worked.

The young ‘Melanie’ knew she was at least half Rihannsu. She spoke the mothertongue and knew her people’s basic history and culture, but also believed the lie that she was half-human. And in that lie, it had been Jaeih’s hope that Verelan t’Rul would never discover her.

Then her daughter joined the Hera, and everything changed. After only a few months, her true memories and name were uncovered. Her physical appearance restored. Her hidden DNA revealed and repaired. 'Melanie' became 'Mnhei'sahe' again and suddenly the secrets were secrets no more. It was only a matter of time before the name of her true father was revealed, and from there to where they were now became an inevitability.

Family and her bloodline was sacrosanct to Verelan t'Rul and she would not be denied her blood once she knew it existed

And while nobody appeared to confirm or deny her fears, she knew on some level that this was the price of her past crimes being visited upon her again. And now on Mnhei’sahe.

The days in the cell were impossible to keep track of. On a starship or a Warbird, ‘day’ and ‘night’ were, at best, abstract concepts. But in the cell, even more so. The only light provided was the green glow of the force field generators around the door which remained a steady, dim tone all the time. A perpetual sense of a vague night that never quite ended that made sleep the only way of separating one day from another. The reappearing of fresh clothes only happened while she slept, so that was less of a gauge than she would like. And she found she was sleeping a lot. And it was never good.

Against the wall was a thin platform with an even thinner pad that was her bed, and aside from the retractable refresher in the corner, there was nothing else of note. But she studied every wall, corner and surface. The room was clean and smooth and featureless. Just like her cell on the penal asteroid of so many years ago.

Trying to not think of that, she sat up straight at attention and muttered to yourself, “That was past, Jaeih. You endured it and it is the past. And you will endure this.”

By the fourth day, however, she found that she spent much more time speaking to herself. At least, she was fairly sure it was the fourth day. She had slept that many times at least, but sleep often crept up on her when she least expected it and took her for a time, so she wasn’t certain. If she gauged a new ‘day’ purely on waking up, then she must have been there for weeks at least. But she didn’t think that was the case.

And when she spoke, it was in random bursts of words without any seeming meaning. Logic puzzles she remembered and memory exercises she repeated from her days in the Academy of the Great Art of ch’Rihan. Military training to help keep ones mind sharp in isolation. And whatever this was, it was isolation. Occasionally, she would glimpse a guard’s back at the end of the corridor outside of her cell, but she had begun to wonder if it was no more than her eyes tricking her. So she returned to her only place to sit and tried to concentrate.

There were other techniques she had been trained in to help maintain her mind in captivity. Techniques that she knew far too well. Seven years on a Penal Research Asteroid on the edge of the Neutral Zone had given her ample time to work on what was called her Mind Palace.

In the cell, no longer remembering what day it was, she sat and breathed. Closing her eyes, she let out her breath and remembered. She had spent months ‘building’ the place. A building to go to in her mind. A place to store the memories she needed to remember and remind herself of who she was.

There, it was warm. As she slowly opened her eyes, she was home. Home on ch’Rihan looking out over the hills of Iuruth. It was a poor region and her family didn’t have much, but her father was a respected Khre'Riov in the Rihannsu Millitary with a ship of his own and he provided for Jaeih. Her mother was… gone… but she had a home and it had its share of fond memories. So here, she could remember them. Here she could escape from the reality of the cold cell.

Standing in the field just outside of the home, Jaeih took in a long breath of the fresh, cool air. The sky was a brilliant sea of teal that faded into a pinkish gold where the light of Eisn kissed the horizon at days end. It was always days end here, in the palace of her mind. Always perfect.

Turning, the house was larger than any in the surrounding fields. Two stories with polished columns of gray stone at the main door and black stone steps that lead inside. Stepping through the large, heavy wooden doors that creaked on hinges that needed attention, Jaeih could almost smell dinner cooking in the small kitchen to the rear of the main hall. The cold black stone floors were always polished well enough to see your face in and the walls were largely bare. Father disliked art or ostentatious displays in his home and preferred a cool interior, free of clutter. So the walls were adorned with little more than the occasional wall sconce that shined a warm, amber light into the chamber.

Stairs along the far right wall were stained dark and almost black, and like the floor, were polished to a shine. As Jaeih walked through the main hall, she heard the large double doors under the top of the stairs slide open on well oiled metal rails. There was a loud thunk as they opened into the wall that echoed through the old home.

“Retreating again, I see. How predictable you are.”

In the doorway stood Jaeih t’Aan. Short cropped hair, cut in the military fashion, she wore the uniform of an Erei'Riov. The black and gray checkerboard pattern was dark, with twin black belts crossed over her right shoulder, clipped together with the silver sigil of the Imperium. The Great Bird, Al’Thindor gripping in its talons, the Two Worlds of ch’Rihan and ch’Havran.

Surprised and confused Jaeih Dox could only blink and stare at the much younger woman standing there. Hair still jet black and face unlined by years or regret, SubCommander t’Aan of the Tal’Shiar raised an eyebrow and walked over, looking Jaeih up and down, arms folded behind her back. “You are a disrespectful sight to behold. You dishonor me looking so and I will not have it. Better to share Mother’s fate and die in cold and darkness than see myself reduced to this. Have you anything to say for yourself, Dox?”

Stepping back slightly, Jaeih Dox was confused, and found no words came in response as she looked around the house of her mind.

“She doesn’t need to answer to you, Erei’Riov.” Came another voice from behind. Turning sharply, Jaeih Dox saw another vision of herself. This face was older. There were more years on the face then there were years behind it, perhaps, but her own face, nonetheless. She wore her hair longer and in a ponytail with only a few wisps of gray creeping in at the sides. But she stood as tall and stern as the SubCommander across the hall.
Stepping past Jaeih Dox as if she wasn’t there, she wore a dark gray tunic with a high neck and long sleeves. Her hands were folded behind her back and over her tunic, a beige vest. On her hip was a worn weapons belt with an out of date, weathered green disruptor. This was Jaeih Dox, Captain of the Smuggling ship, Forager.

“You would come here, invade this place as you did so many colony worlds. Like Eilhaunn or Mendaissa or Ysail, you sweep in and pacify those you find for failing your ever lofty standards of Rihannsu perfection. Leave her be, this is her home.” The angry Captain spoke sternly at her younger self as Jaeih looked on, still confused.

“The Imperium… like a mind… demands order and obedience. I brought order and HONOR to those that sought to bring chaos to ch’Rihan. I do no different here, smuggler!” The Erei’Riov sneered back.

This was her Mind Palace. Where she could find peace and re-center her thoughts. Instead, she found only turmoil here. A mind at war with itself and no peace. Beginning to feel panic overtake her, Jaeih stumbled back against the far wall of the corridor before pushing off and breaking into a run. “This is MY HOME!!! MINE!!!” She shouted as she scrambled up the stairs and down the hall of old wooden doors.

Below, she could hear the two voices of herself continuing to argue. From a door, she saw a flickering light leak out the bottom toward her shaking feet. Hesitantly, she felt compelled to open the door. But open it she did as she reached across and slowly pulled open the heavy wooden door. Inside was a familiar room. Not her lost mother’s room and not any room located upstairs. No, this room, she remembered, should have been in the rear of the house behind the kitchen.

It was narrow, with cold stone walls and a small window near the ceiling in the back. There was an old leather couch for sleeping against one wall and a chair in the back. Old and worn, the wooden chair had a woman sitting in it. The woman wore a deep green chilton that went to the floor, sashed at the waist and sat, holding a bundle as she swayed back and forth, humming gently. Her hair was pulled back in a loose braid and didn’t have the military trimmed bangs that Jaeih still wore, but it was her face, as she looked 32 years ago. Or rather, how she might have looked had fate dealt her a kinder hand. “She reminds me of father, that one out there. Duty and mnhei’sahe without ever seeming to understand what that word really means.”

“I… I don’t understand.” Jaeih said as she stepped in. “This… this was hru’fre Nurema’s chamber. The servant’s quarters, but it wasn’t here. It was downstairs. And you…”

“Things have a way of being where they need to be, Jaeih. Don’t they, Mnhei’sahe?” The mother in the chair smilled as she looked down, speaking in a sing-song voice to the bundle in her arms. But as Jaeih stepped closer, she felt a wave of fear. “What are you afraid of, Jaeih?”

The image of the Mother looked back up at her with a raised eyebrow, not unlike the look the Erei’Riov gave her downstairs. “She's your child. Are you really so afraid of her that you would cringe at the idea of her? She needs you, Jaeih. Now more than ever, she needs you to be strong or she’ll be lost too.”

“Mnhei’sahe needs you, Jaeih. Not your lies and excuses. She needs YOU. Her children will need you."

Feeling her fear threaten to overtake her, Jaeih reached down with a trembling hand at the bundle and pulled the tattered old wrapping back at her head. But there was nothing there. No baby. No little Mnhei’sahe, happy and cooing up at her. Just an old bundle of bandages, stained green.

“NOOOO!!!! No, this isn’t real!!! Why are you doing this to me!?!” Jaeih screamed as she stumbled backwards through the door to the hall. As she did, she lost her footing and fell hard to the cold metal deck.

Feeling around, it was suddenly dark. The floor in the hru’hfe’s quarters was gray stone. The hall upstairs, maithe wood. There was no metal floors in her childhood home. None in her mind palace. But she felt a shudder up her spine as she realized she wasn’t in her mind palace. Nor was she back in the brig of the Warbird. This was someplace else. Someplace cold and dark.

Someplace familiar.

As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she began to see the shape of the metal room. It was only a meter wide and maybe three meters long, but the walls easily went five meters up. On the ceiling was a single, dim light that did little to light anything and behind her, a durasteel door with a sliding window at the middle and no handle or hinges visible. And it was then that she heard breathing.

It was an eerie, raspy, broken sound that filled Jaeih with dread.

Scampering back, she slammed hard against the cold metal door as she sruggled to see who was there even though she knew. She knew this room. She had lived her for the majority of seven years. This was the solitary confinement quarters on The Thieurrull Penal research outpost 97. And the dark shape in the corner barely moving… was her.

“T… They listen.” The weak, cracked voice in the shadows said. “They all listen to everything you say. Everything you THINK. You know they do. So we don’t give them anything, so we. We build our Mind Palace and THAT’S where we live now. Not here.”

“My… my Mind Palace isn’t mine anymore. It’s… broken.” Jaeih stuttered in the darkness. “I’m broken.”

“Of course we’re broken. We’ve always been broken, Jaeih. We’re the monster that they made us and we thought we could be a MOTHER!?” The prisoner in the corner shouted, a bit of spit shooting across the room to land on Jaeih’s face as she flinched against it. “We’re not a mother. Were we ever? This is what we are now. What we always were! Heh… did you really think they would ever have let us escape this room? You know we never did. You know you’re still here, Jaeih. Accept it!”

“NO!!! I escaped! I got away! I got away and Dralath saved me and I was free and we… we had Mnhei’sahe! We did! It’s REAL! IT IS!!!” Jaeih screamed, terrified.

“Then why are you still here, woman? Why do you keep coming back here?” Came a harsh, snapping voice from behind. She was in the main hall again, squinting from the sudden light of sunset leaking in the windows. Strong hands reached down and yanked her back to her feet and looked deep into her eyes. It was Erei’Riov t’Aan again.

“I… I… I don’t want to…” Jaeih protested weakly.

“HNAEV!” The Erei’Riov shouted back. “Do not dishonor us with your child’s lies, Dox! Why did you go there? Back to that place!”

“I… I… I don’t know. I don’t!” She replied, a bit stronger this time.

“You go there because you think you belong there, Jaeih.” Mother Dox said from the side, the empty, green stained rag hanging in her hand by her side, and angry passion roiling up in them. “Because failures do not deserve freedom, do they? Mothers that mutilate their children don’t deserve freedom. Mothers that let their children sit in the empty airlock of a ship with their HAND ON THE RELEASE VALVE INTO SPACE do NOT deserve freedom, do they!?!”

“N… no. I didn’t…”

“You didn’t what, Dox? Say it.” Erei’Riov t’Aan barked in her face.

“Why don’t you run, Jaeih? That’s what you do, isn’t it?” The Smuggler Captain said with a raised eyebrow. “Just run away again. Hide from your truth as something you’re not. It’s what you do best.”

All around her now was the chorus of her own voice. The Erei’Riov of decades past who joined the Tal’Shiar and pacified colonies that threatened to turn from the Imperium. The Good Mother that she never was, judging her for her failures. The cold smuggler, only caring about survival and making her daughter strong. But the prisoner wasn’t there.

And, looking down as the three visions of herself stared at her with accusing words, she knew why. Her hair was long and matted around her dirty, gaunt face. Her clothes were little more than dirty gray rags with stains of her own blood dried across from scrapes and bruises earned in the darkness. She was the prisoner.

“QUIET!” Came a commanding shout from behind her and she turned around so fast she almost fell as the other fell silent.

Standing there was another Jaeih Dox. Hands folded behind her back, her salt-and-pepper hair pulled into a tight ponytail. She wore a dark gray Starfleet tunic and on her breast she proudly wore the Rihannsu commbadge given to her by Commander Rita Paris when she joined her daughter's ship in its service. She had an exasperated expression on her face as she rolled her eyes. “Enough of this nonsense, Dox.”

“B… but... “ Jaeih tried to protest before being shushed over.

“Shush. This isn’t an interactive moment, my dear. So for this moment, you will listen. And hopefully, you will understand. You know why you are here. Not here in this recreation of memories, good and bad. But on the ship. You are there to protect Mnhei’sahe. They will try and break her. They will try and turn her. And she will need you to remind her of who she is or she will truly be lost.”

“And if YOU are lost, you can’t very well do that, now can you?” Agent Dox said with a wry smirk. “Rhetorical, you cannot.”

“This is a wonderful memory, this place. Here, you can regroup and remember who you are and where you come from and where you may yet go. But remember that these voices are your past. Your mistakes and weaknesses and even your fantasies. They make up who you were, but do not define who you ARE. You are her mother. You have fallen but you have also gotten back up to recover what was lost. You did that because you are stronger than them.” The authoritarian woman called ‘Grandma Murder-Punch’ in the corridors of the Hera said stearnly as she looked at the now-silent chorus of Jaeih’s standing before her.

“And you are stronger because you ARE them. You are all of us and more. We are here because you need us to be here, but do not allow their voices to overwhelm your own. What was it that Mnhei’sahe says, that we are stronger together? She is right. And she is stronger with YOU. So BE you.”

There was a moment as Jaeih closed her eyes and breathed. She concentrated and focused on her breathing and slowly, she opened her eyes. She stood again in the hall of the home of her childhood. The warm light of the sun came in the windows, and she was herself. She wore only the simply greenish-gray outfit provided in her cell that she wore in reality. But she felt a calm again overtaking her. The voices were silent for the moment. She was Jaeih Dox again and her daughter needed her.

As her eyes opened slowly to the cold reality of her cell, she took a breath and looked around. Let them think you are mad. Maybe you are, a little. Let that madwoman out to play and they will underestimate you.

You must be strong. You must defy the will of fate and survive. You survived this before. Now you have a reason to. Many reasons. Remember yourself, Jaeih. Remember.