[Backlog] Stormy Dreams

Posted on 05 Sep 2025 @ 5:41am by Lieutenant Aev Flammia

1,353 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Fractured Accord
Location: USS Arawyn

= USS Arawyn, Chief of Security Quarters =

Thunder rolled low and guttural, like the growl of some vast beast hidden within the clouds. Aev’s head snapped up, his eyes fixing on the stormfront churning on the horizon. Jagged forks of lightning carved brief, violent paths through the darkness, and in their illumination he saw the swaying expanse of grass around him.

The trail under his boots stretched forward urging him onward. He didn’t remember where he was, or why, but instinct drove him. Some part of him whispered that if he reached the end, he would understand. Another crack of thunder, louder and closer this time, pushed him forward.

When the path ended, Aev stopped, his breath catching. Before him, in a clearing carved into the ocean of grass, loomed a structure unlike anything he expected: not a Romulan cabin, but a bunkerlike shelter, stone dark as obsidian and etched with crude sigils that pulsed faintly in the storm light.

Three Remans stood at its entrance, their broad frames casting jagged silhouettes. Their pale, ridged faces turned toward him, eyes glimmering in the dim light. Their presence was heavy, oppressive, yet somehow familiar, as though the weight of their gaze pressed not only on his chest but on his blood.

One of them stepped forward, taller than the rest, his voice deep and resonant like stone grinding against stone:

“hr’faelirh.”

The word reverberated in Aev’s skull. He didn’t know its meaning, yet he felt it strike something deep within him.

Another rumbled phrase passed between the soldiers, too guttural to parse. The tallest raised a hand and gestured toward the bunker’s door.

From the shadows, another figure stepped forth, cloaked, half-veiled in darkness. Her features straddled the divide between Reman and Romulan, pale ridges softened by angular grace. Violet eyes glowed as they fixed on him, and a faint smile curved her lips. When she spoke, her voice was low, melodic, carrying words in a tongue Aev almost understood.

“S'Tcaevra, aeuthn qiu oaii mnek'nra?”

Aev jolted upright, breath ragged, sweat dampening his brow. Across the room, in the half-light, Ignis’ golden eyes gleamed from a lounge chair by the coffee table, unblinking and watchful. The chamber was bathed in the shifting glow of passing stars, streaks of white fire tumbling across the wide windows.

With a weary sigh, Aev began to rise, only to pause at the soft weight curled against him. A tiny kitten slept between his legs, its small body rising and falling with each contented breath. Aev’s lips curved into the faintest smile as he carefully lifted the creature and set it on an open patch of blankets before standing.

His gaze returned to Ignis, a pale silhouette adrift in the shadows, eyes glimmering like the Cheshire cat from an ancient tale. “How much did you hear?” Aev asked quietly.

Ignis tilted his head, the golden glow of his eyes narrowing with mischief. “Only enough to wonder whether I should charge admission,” he purred, voice laced with amusement. Then, with a lazy flick of his hand, he added, “Don’t worry, Aev. Your secrets are safe… at least the interesting ones.”

“Secrets,” Aev echoed with a weary sigh. “I just wish I understood why these dreams feel so vivid.” A flicker of doubt crossed his mind—perhaps it was time to finally seek out the ship’s counselor.

“Computer, lights. Fifteen percent illumination.”

The room brightened only slightly, soft shadows lingering at the edges of the walls. Aev rose and crossed to the small galley, ordering a glass of Vulcan spiced tea. The replicator chimed, producing the steaming cup, its sharp aroma curling into the air. Cradling it in his hands, he returned to the seating area and settled onto the couch across from Ignis.

He studied the hologram’s glowing eyes for a long moment before speaking. “Do you know what hr’faelirh means?”

Ignis tilted his head, his expression thoughtful, almost scholarly for once. “Hr’faelirh… grandson,” he said slowly, as if tasting the syllables. The word lingered in the air between them, foreign yet familiar. His golden eyes brightened with curiosity. “It’s old Rihannsu, though the Remans use that dialect often when they bother to speak the tongue at all.”

A flicker of intrigue passed across his face, and then a sly smile returned. “Strange choice of word to drift into your dreams, don’t you think? Someone out there seems to be calling you family.”

“I don’t…” Aev’s voice faltered, the words slipping away. “There was a woman,” he began, then paused, his expression tightening as he lifted the cup and took a slow sip of tea. “Romulan, or… not quite. She carried the sharp features of our people, but there was something else, something Reman in her face.” His brow furrowed, unsettled by how blurred the memory felt despite the dream’s immediacy. “And her eyes…” He hesitated, as if the image itself unsettled him. “They were a vivid, glowing violet.”

Ignis tilted his head, the glow of his gaze sharpening. “Violet eyes…” he echoed, voice low, almost musing. “Not the color your people claim as their own. But among the Remans?” A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Among them, it’s said the dark gifts the brightest flame. Eyes meant to see where no light should reach.”

He leaned back in the chair, studying Aev with foxlike patience. “Strange, isn’t it? Not the first time your eyes have been called into question. I recall a certain Reman who spoke of Cornvanis, hinted you’d find answers there, if you had the courage to go looking.”

Ignis’s tone softened, but the curiosity in it was edged. “So perhaps your dream isn’t only a dream, Aev. Perhaps it’s a reminder.”

A flicker of unease tightened in Aev’s chest, and he lifted the cup again, letting the warmth of the tea steady him. “It has to be my imagination,” he muttered, though his eyes stayed fixed on Ignis. “Could a Romulan and a Reman even procreate? And if so… what would that mean?”

He shook his head, as if dismissing the thought, forcing a scoff under his breath. “No, it was just a dream. Nothing more than an overactive mind playing tricks.” Yet the question gnawed at him stubbornly. How could one chance encounter with a Reman during a mission leave such a shadow?

Ignis’s golden eyes softened, the usual sharpness in them giving way to something steadier. When he spoke, his voice was low and calm, almost soothing. “Aev… not every question has to be solved tonight. Dreams can be unsettling because they touch places we don’t fully understand yet. That doesn’t make them less real, it just means your mind is working through something it hasn’t put into words.”

He leaned forward slightly, his tone carrying quiet reassurance. “Whether it was imagination or something more, it doesn’t have to frighten you. Let it breathe. Let yourself breathe. You’re not alone in this, even if it feels like you are.” A small, gentle smile flickered across his features. “And whatever truths you do find, when you’re ready for them, you’ll face them with more strength than you think.”

Draining the last of his tea, Aev rose to his feet. “I think I’ll schedule a session with the ship’s counselor,” he said at last, offering Ignis a faint smile. “Not that I don’t value your insight.”

He set the cup aside and started toward his bedroom, his steps steady but tired. “For now, though, I’ll call it an early start to the day and head to my office. Work should be enough to keep these dreams out of my head, at least for a while.”

A flicker of a grin curved across Ignis’s face as he leaned back in the chair. “Work may keep your hands busy… but dreams have a way of finding you again when you least expect them.”

= To be continued =

 

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