Phae's Journal Entry 6

Posted on Thu Mar 6th, 2025 @ 8:11pm by Lieutenant Phaedrae Cyn

1,293 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Personal Logs, Journals, Letters Home, etc.
Timeline: approx. 25 years ago

Telor gave me this journal. For healing.

I’m not sure that’s happening.

But the thought is appreciated.

In the past few weeks, I think I’ve lost the girl I used to be. I liked going to my after-school activities and hanging out with my friends. I listened to music and read silly fiction books of kids falling in love at camp. I begged my parents for a cat. And that girl – I have no idea where she went. And I don’t know that I want her to come back...

Telor had been trapped in the brig for nearly two weeks. They didn’t forget to feed him. Renal even made sure to tell him about my broken toilet fiasco—maybe to reassure him that he wouldn’t be forgotten either. Some twisted sense of humor.

So Telor knew of me before his escape. But all I knew was that someone had taken over my bed in the brig.

At some point, he must have noticed my quiet sabotage of the forcefields. I hadn’t done it for him. Not really. Just a tiny act of rebellion, something to remind myself that I wasn’t powerless. It had been easy... even though I was nervous about it for the rest of the day. Renal hadn’t noticed, even though I was sure that’s what he and Pet were fighting about.

Throwing a pebble into the ocean doesn’t change anything. The water doesn’t rise. The fish glance at it, then move on. The waves keep rolling, indifferent.

But when that pebble breaks the surface, there are tiny little ripples. And those ripples make bigger ripples...

Telor waited patiently for the right ripple to reach the night, and when night fell, he seized the opportunity my defiant pebble created. My heart flutters at the thought that I was responsible for this new reality.

After Telor dragged Pet from the room, I dressed, my movements slow and disoriented. There was a strange tension running through me, something unfamiliar. Exhaustion tangled with nervous energy, making it impossible to focus. I didn’t know where I was supposed to go, what I was supposed to do – or even how to put on a shirt. (But I got the shirt figured out quicker than the other stuff.)

I followed Telor—like a lost little puppy, searching for direction. A faint, foolish hope clung to me: maybe he could take me back to my parents. But that wasn’t where he was going. His mission led elsewhere.

On the ship’s small bridge, we pulled up the deck layouts. Telor asked questions about the crew, and I answered, willingly. Maybe too willingly. He sorted through the ship’s logs, and in return, I learned about him. Who he was. Who he was looking for.

Where I had seen a crew of bumbling idiots, playing at war games, Telor saw something else entirely. He knew how these operations worked. Kidnapping missions weren’t done alone—Pet hadn’t gone after my mother by himself. But the logs didn’t mention his team.

Just that this mission had been an utter failure.

Telor was searching for someone named Varek. The Bajorans had captured him, but the exchange and release never happened. The deal fell apart.

Now, Telor had what he needed—coordinates, the details of the hideout. He didn’t need the Bajorans anymore. And I sure didn’t either!

Telor led me from the bridge, his pace unhurried but purposeful. My own footsteps felt disconnected, like I was floating through someone else’s body. The weight of what I had just done—what I had set in motion—pressed against my ribs. I had helped him escape. I had betrayed my captors. But they were never my people, were they?

A tiny voice in my head whispered: What if you made a mistake? What if they were my last chance of survival? What if they were making arrangements with someone at Starfleet to send me back to my parents, but I didn’t know about it? The thought made my stomach twist.

Those thoughts were not productive and I pushed them away. They had their chance – Pet could have left me to drift down the river or he could have tossed me aside on that wooded trail. I could have easily found my way back to my ship by myself. But he brought me here. These were his consequences. He dropped a very dangerous pebble into the ocean – a pebble of potassium...

The corridor lights flickered, casting long, shifting shadows as we reached the airlock. Through the small window, I saw them—twelve Bajoran pirates, my tormentors. Some slumped against the walls, barely conscious. Others pressed against the glass, pleading with their eyes, their lips moving in prayers or curses. A few still had fight left in them, rattling their restraints, bloodied and furious.

A strange heat rose in my chest. For weeks, I had dreamed of this. I had imagined every possible way they could suffer. But now that the moment was real, my fantasies felt... flimsy. Too clean. Too simple.

Telor tilted his head. “Well?”

I pressed my hands to the glass. I felt Telor’s warm breath on my shoulder as I went on tip-toes to confirm the count. One of Renal’s eyes was swollen shut and he pleaded for me to help him. Pet, too. Blood splattered the walls. The cook already looked dead. All of them were afraid now. Powerless.

I thought of my mother...

The ship’s logs had been filled with names. Victims. People who had been stolen, beaten, sold. Forgotten by all but those who had loved them. I thought of their pain and suffering, and the worry and heartache of their loved ones... Even if they were spared pain and death, there was mental suffering. Traumatic stress. Nightmares.

Had my mother been spared her agony?

I swallowed, my mouth dry. “Flushing them would be fastest.” The words felt mechanical. Logical. “They wouldn’t have time to scream. Just a second of terror, and then—” I snapped my fingers.

Telor’s gaze was unreadable. “And is that what you want?”

Yes. I wanted this. Dreamed of it. Planned for it. But as I stood there, staring into their bruised and bloodied faces, something gnawed at the edge of my certainty.

I was their prisoner. Their victim. But weren’t they mine now?

My fingers trembled against the glass. I should feel triumphant. I should feel powerful.

Renal fed me – after they starved me.

Pet was gentle with me – though I did not consent.

They housed me – but ripped me away from my home first.

No. They weren’t like me. I wasn’t like them.

... Was I?

They were heartless, only interested in the thrill of their crimes. The lists of names were only that... an inventory.

Renal sobbed – weak. Pathetic.

My hand stilled.

“I want them to suffer,” I whispered, and it didn’t feel like my voice. It was something new, something darker, something that had been growing within me since waking up in the shuttle, breathing in the stench of Pet.

Telor’s smile was slow, knowing. “Good.”

He turned to the controls, and my heart pounded, anticipation and nausea warring inside me. I had never watched a person be tortured before. Their life slowly leaking away from them. Their screams weakening as the pain grew unbearable. The gloss of their eyes changing as the bridge from life crossed to death.

I chose their fates.

This was justice. This was revenge. This was me.

(I also threw up all over the place. Intestines on the floor are really gross.)

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