The Legacy of Negen Prime

[Cmdr JFarrington 0]

Counselor’s Log, Stardate 5108062.8

Cmdr J. Farrington, MD

USS Manticore

 

The Legacy of Negen Prime

 

She couldn’t have been more than five standard years old. Auburn ringlets framed her tiny face, giving it an angelic quality. The curls cascaded to her shoulders where a plain blue cotton dress hung to drape loosely about her knees. The child’s face reminded Jami of early 20th century photos advertising talcum powder or Camay soap, except that the child sat motionless on the edge of her bunk and her piercing blue eyes didn’t fit the picture. No joy, no delight, no childhood fantasy lay within. She stared blankly ahead, transfixed on some long-gone terror she must have witnessed on Negen Prime. And she looked oddly familiar.

 

A young woman lay in the bunk next to her, a victim of 3rd degree burns over 35% of her body, much of that on her face, back, and arms. The woman, also, looked familiar and a glance at the woman’s chart confirmed Jami’s suspicion. She was Runa deNeren, wife of Regent Eber deNeren, Chief Consul of Negen Prime. That’s when Jami recognized the child. She wondered what had happened to Runa’s husband.

 

Had it not been for the quick action of Manticore’s medical teams Runa probably would have died shielding her daughter from debris and secondary fires that erupted after the initial attack on Negen Prime. She and a few others had been kept aboard Manticore as the ship followed a weakening warp trail in pursuit of Negen Prime’s attackers.

 

“Only the most critical,” Dr. Mele had said, and Jami had taken this to mean not only critical in body but in mind and spirit. A few others who were critical, but not in need of intensive care, remained in Manticore’s initial triage area, cargo bay three, where Jami was now. They would soon be moved to more comfortable quarters until other arrangements could be made – either transfer to the McCoy or to a starbase with advanced medical facilities.

 

“Her name is Narek.” Runa’s voice was weak and hoarse, but her grief was evident though she tried to hide it.

 

Jami returned the chart to its hook and smiled at Runa. “Narek. What a beautiful name.”

 

“It was my mother’s.” Runa attempted a smile, though the skin grafts distorted it. Jami pretended not to notice. She remembered Runa as beautiful – some would say stunning, a body and a face you would see on billboards or in fashion magazines. Hopefully she would be like that again when the grafts completely healed. “We named her after Mother; she died in the plague.”

 

“The plague of ’97.”

 

“Yes. But how did you….” Her face lit up with recognition. “You were there.” She checked Jami’s medical badge. “Dr. Farrington. You were part of the Federation team that helped us.”

 

“Yes.” How could Jami forget? How could anyone forget that horror? And now the people had a new horror to try to forget.

 

“Narek,” Runa repeated, giving a slight gesture with her one free hand towards her daughter. “Eleb . . . . is gone. He was her twin. And my husband, Eb….” She choked on his name and turned away.

 

Jami shifted her attention to Narek and sat on the bunk next to her. She’d lost a twin. And her father. And nearly lost her mother. More than any child should have to endure.

 

“Hello, Narek. My name is Jami. Do you remember me?” She paused a moment, looking for any signs of recognition, any reaction whatsoever – a twitch, a blink, a shift of her eyes, anything. But there was nothing. “You brought me flowers last year, when I was here for the conference. They were beautiful. I remember you picked them yourself.”

 

Narek continued to stare, frozen in time, caught in that last dreadful moment.

 

Jami signaled a nearby med tech who brought her a doll similar to those of Negen Prime. They had treated many children, though even one was too many. The medical teams had been supplied with assorted toys to help alleviate the children’s anguish. It had worked for some; hopefully it would work for Narek.

 

Jami held the doll close, as a mother would a child. “Narek, this is Erin.” She gave it a little hug, patted its back then stroked its hair. “She’s very sad, Narek. She needs someone to talk to.”

 

Narek blinked. Jami continued to rock the doll, humming a lullaby. After a few minutes Narek snatched it from Jami, pressed it into her tiny chest, buried her face in its hair and began to rock. It wasn’t much, but it was a beginning.

 

“Please.” Jami felt a hand on her arm. It was Runa, struggling into a half-sitting position on her cot. “Please, Dr. Farrington. Find whoever did this. Promise me you’ll find them.”

 

“We’ll find them.”

 

“Promise.” Runa’s eyes pleaded as she sank back to her pillow. “Please . . . . promise.”

 

“I promise.”