Letters From Home
Posted on August 6th, 2021 by Scott Ammora

It seemed like an eternity. Never-ending corridors, crisscrosses and back-switches, dead-ends and wrong turns. His mind had since lapsed from the regular. He was seeing red, he was seeing things that weren’t there – figuratively. Scott’s mind was clouded. There was too much information, there was too much emotion, there was too… much. He had to keep reminding himself to release his jaw, but knew that he had been grinding away at his teeth with clenched aggression for days.

He finally found his quarters, the same door he had passed through dozens of times. The threshold was supposed to be the opening to his sanctuary and his place to be away from it all. Scott had passed by it a couple of times on his journey from the shuttlebay. He knew there was nothing behind those doors other than his domicile, his personal space, where he would sit and stew on the recent events.

There was a reason he hadn’t gone in. There was no solace there at the moment. The stress wouldn’t dissipate, the anger wouldn’t leave, the suspicion wouldn’t subside; no, it was a prison that his mind would use to antagonize him and sharpen the dull knife that kept needling his brain. He didn’t know what was up and what was down, he was thinking black was white and left was right. Circling the deck, doing laps, was the one thing that kept him centered. It was the nature of being a marine: keep moving.

But he was tired. Exhausted. Mentally, physically, emotionally… all of the above. This assignment wasn’t anything he thought it was going to be. It wasn’t what he hoped it would be. He was alone on a starship on the front lines doing what he always wanted to do. And he hated it. But he couldn’t walk anymore. He couldn’t do another pass, he couldn’t make another round on the deck, and he knew that his inner turmoil with everything he was dealing with was leeching away his energy, his drive, and his determination.

The doors to his quarters hissed open. The drab standard Starfleet dwelling welcomed him. No semblance of personal comfort embraced him. Standard couch, standard table, standard bed, the whole nine. It was merely a place designed to house an officer. Granted he could make it his own, but he hadn’t had time. And, truth be told, he didn’t have the energy. Sleep, work, sleep, work, and repeat. It was disheartening, but just one more thing that Scott regularly pushed from his thoughts after a long day. But this time was different.

He longed for the sound of Breena playing music from the other room. He longed for a freshly-replicated dinner being delicately placed on plates for a family supper, and the cheering of his father and his brother at the latest sporting match they were watching. Instead, it was silent. The hum of the replicator’s energy source was evident, the tremble of the environmental controls kicking on and off as necessary, and the glow of the low-lighting were the only things that ushered him inside. It was the physical definition of solitude. And, he loathed it.

Knowing he only had about an hour before being back on shift, Scott kicked off his boots. He jumped into the sonic shower and activated it, the warmth washing over him in the most comfortable space he knew. He bathed. He took to showering in the dark from an early age, much to his parents’ confusion. Scott tried to explain that while he was alone and in the dark his mind could mellow out, his subconscious could handle issues, and that clear results to his problems would flourish. This time, like the other times in the recent past, even his go-to yielded no such conclusions. He exited the alcove clean, but still muddy in his head.

Donning a new pair of pants, tossing a towel over his bare shoulder, he moved to his shoes. His eye caught his communications console, the indicator light of new messages was flashing rhythmically and steadily against the black background of the dormant screen. Scott sat down and pressed the button to play back his messages.

****

Hey Scott, it’s Kason.

Long time no chat, huh?

I wasn’t even paying attention about the happenings of Atlantis. Mom called me in a panic wondering if I’d heard from you, which I hadn’t, and that sent her into even more of a tailspin. For someone as educated as her, the whereabouts of her children are always on her mind in an emotional fashion I can’t comprehend. I should’ve lied, honestly, because the hour-long conversation that followed was pretty painful. You know what I’m talking about, right?

She begged me to reach out. She mentioned how we’ve never really been close. She made me feel pretty terrible about how our relationship has always been just family and not one of love. And that hit me hard, bro, truly. Dad, it was funny, was making comments from the background to let me be, but she persisted. And I said I would send you a communique. So, here it is.

I’m doing all right. We failed to make the playoffs for another year. These guys are just the worst and don’t know the basics of the game! No training etiquette, no attention to formation, nothing! I can’t carry the team myself! I scored three of the goals in our last game and we still lost seven-four. No defense, no pride, no gumption, it’s all a shit-show. I took a mallet to the head at the end of the last game – I was laid up for two weeks on concussion protocols. I was seeing stars every day. It was okay, I just kept saying was one of the stars I was seeing.

How are you doing? I hope you’re not dead. Seems like you’re in the thick of it out there. Then again, that’s what you’ve always wanted: adventure. I haven’t seen an obituary or a death notice from Starfleet, so I’m guessing you’re still causing trouble. Good on you.

I’m applying for the Federation Parrisses Squares tournament next month. Solo. I figured I’d take a page out of your book and do things on my own, my own way, and see if I can stand on my own two feet. But you should take note that sometimes relying on a good a team is the best way to solve problems. I remember when I was in my senior year and you were in the stands for the finals. You fought with mom and dad about going shirtless with my name painted on your body so you could be like all the other students cheering me on. Dad said something along the lines of that it wasn’t ‘becoming of a potential Starfleet officer to do such a thing’. You were there for every second, cheering me on, because you believed in me.

I thank you for that. I mean, I’m not going to get mushy or anything, but I want you to know that even though we haven’t been close I’ve always admired you for forging your own path. I may not say it often… or at all… but I want you to know that I love you and I hope you’re safe.

Okay, so mom told me to say that. But I mean it, but not, like, in an I’m-going-to-meet-you-at-the-spaceport-with-flowers sort of way. Just know I’m thinking good thoughts for you, bro. Kick ass out there. Make us proud.

The screen went blank, Kason’s face replaced by the Federation insignia. Scott stared at it for a good long time before he blinked. Kason and he had barely a relationship growing up. The age gap was just enough that there was no mutual circle of friends, no mutual interests, no common ground. No, there had only been the big brother versus annoying little brother mentality. And that persisted after graduation, after the Academy, and after Scott’s posted to Starbase 60.

Even with their history, Kason’s message resonated with support and caring. One could surmise that with the passage of time, with the growing of connections, and with maturity… a bond between brothers was possible. And he was supported. Kason had never, ever, spoken in support of Scott’s intentions. The tribulations at school and anything else after and in between was always met with a ‘you brought it on yourself’ or the ‘live and learn’ visage.

Scott didn’t know what to make of that. He wanted to start a reply, but saw more messages flashing awaiting his attention. Taking a breath, he cued the next, and watched his younger sister Breena’s face appear beautifully on the screen.

*****

Scotty, oh my God, are you okay?!

I’ve been paying attention to the wires. Xovul? Free Fleets?! I saw the Federation Council recording and knew you were out there. Well, not there specifically, but there! Are you there? I mean, of course you are, I saw the reports. But I can’t believe you’re in the thick of it! Are you all right? My heart lurches every time there’s an update. I think I’m more concerned than mom – and that’s saying something!

She’s definitely freaked. I get about a dozen calls a day asking if I’ve reached you. Dad must be going out of his mind keeping her from getting in a shuttlecraft and coming to get you herself. We keep trying to talk her down off the ledge, but that mind can’t be silenced. Kason even exaggerated his sport injury and she didn’t seem to care. None of us have heard from you in forever. Even Weston hasn’t heard. Please get back to me, or Kason, or Weston… or anyone… that you’re okay.

I know you’re okay. I hope, anyway. Of course you are. I’m sorry, I’m rambling. You’re my big brother and I know you’re taking care of people and protecting people and honoring people and… and… you know, all of that. I can’t wait to update you on my stuff, but it’s unimportant right now. I mean, it’s not unimportant, but in the scope of… well… you get it. I just wanted to tell you I’m thinking of you. Save lives, Scotty. I’m with you. Talk soon. I love you.

The screen darkened.

He took a deep breath. His little sister had always been his biggest fan and she still was. Scott wanted to formulate a response, he wanted to let her know he was fine, but the words didn’t seem to come easily. After four or five starts and stops Scott decided that he’d wait. He hoped the prolonged disparity in time wouldn’t worry her, but he didn’t know how to put into words what happened. And a summation of the most recent past was more negative than positive… he didn’t want to burden her with that.

And, so, with trepidation, he moved to the next message.

*****

Hey Scooter.

You got the adventure you wanted, I’m guessing. I saw that Atlantis was involved with some really bad stuff. Excitement comes with a cost, right? I know you’re doing your best out there. I’m hoping you’re okay and I’m not assuming anything, but I’m thinking of you every day. You’re not alone out there. I love you, so much, and I want you to know that whatever you deal with I’m by your side and on your shoulder. You’re headstrong, you’re capable, you’re… well… you’re My Scott.

I won’t go on, but know that I’m checking in. I want to hear from you. I want to know you’re okay. I love you. Yeah, I love you. I love you. Don’t forget that. We may be light-years away from each other, but we’re not apart. Stay smart, Scotty, stay focused. You got this. And, when you can, please let me know what’s up.

Weston always had a way of simplistically condensing a novel of emotion into mere minutes. His face was as handsome as ever. His words were as true as the day they’d met. Scott envied his boyfriend’s ability to put into words so succinctly into 30-seconds years of emotion and thought. Damn that boy. Scott smiled. Replaying the last moments of the message and pausing the screen on Weston’s face so he could admire the treasure he had found years ago, his heart ached.

A single tear fell from Scott’s eyes, splashing simply on the cold countertop of the table in which his computer console sat on. He missed that man. He wanted to hold him. He wanted to have dinner with him. He wanted merely to be in his presence. Long distance relationships were hard, everyone told him, but it wasn’t until the space that separated them became tangible that he felt the vast void of loneliness. But it wasn’t loneliness, per se, it was just… different. Like Weston had said: Scott was never alone. And that was what made relationships like theirs so pure. No matter the distance, no matter the time that disconnected them in physicality or apparent emotion, the bond between them anchored each to the truth they knew was absolute: love.

He still had his Weston.

One last message. Not wanting to close out the visage of his best friend and lover, Scott tapped reticently on the keypad, moving to his final correspondence.

*****

Scott, oh my, are you okay? Are you hurt? How’s Atlantis?

Cyn, I’m sure he’s fine.

Preston, we haven’t heard from him in weeks. I’m going to ask the questions. Scott, why aren’t you calling? Why do we have to hear about happenings through news outlets? What’s going on? I know that frontlines are important. I know that you wanted to do good. I know that you wanted to serve. But at what cost?!

Cyn, calm down.

No, YOU calm down. My Scotty, OUR Scotty, is out there on his own and we don’t know if he’s wounded or if he’s fine or if he’s succeeding, or if he’s… dead.

Honey, take a breath.

YOU take a breath, God damn it! We never should have let him take that assignment. He should’ve stayed on Starbase 60 with Weston. Oh, my, Weston… does he know anything? We should call him too. Scott! We heard about the Xovul, we just want to make sure you’re okay. Are you okay? Please let us know if you’re fine… we’re worried! I love you! Remember to eat, remember to sleep, remember… well… remember to take care of yourself.

Hey, love, take a second, please. Scott’s fine, I’m sure. Get some tea.

Yeah, tea. Scotty, I love you, baby. Be safe.

Scott, your mother is fine. I know you are too. Take care of you. Be wise when you work. Talk to people around you. Confide in the right people. I never had the battlefield experience and that leaves me at a disadvantage. While I’m thankful for that in many ways, for the family’s sake, it also puts me in a position of not knowing how to guide you or what to say in this moment. I’m sorry. Just know your mother and I love you. Keep doing the great things I’m sure you’re already doing.

I love you, son.

It was all too much. Constant reminders that Scott wanted to save the universe came crashing back. He hadn’t been the most upstanding Starfleet officer. The support of his family wasn’t misplaced, but it was a bar that he had been trying to reach. One he had failed to meet. He knew after these messages that he needed to reset. Scott was aware he had to make some changes. But, could he? His brain got in the way of his heart sometimes. His heart got in the way of his brain on occasion. He was quite literally an amalgam of human fallibility and dedication to duty. Which left him where? He didn’t know.

Closing the screen he leaned back in his chair. Kason, Breena, Weston, his parents – they were all searching for closure that Scott was, in fact, okay. And he was. He just couldn’t put it into words to soothe their concerns. He was between a rock and a hard place, the adage went, as trite and archaic as it was.

The stillness in the room was deafening. He knew he had to be better. And, in that solemn and silent moment, he made a decision to do just that.