Choices, Part 1
Posted on Wed 25th Jul, 2018 @ 8:03pm by Lieutenant Colonel Brooklyn Wellington
Edited on on Sat 28th Jul, 2018 @ 2:50am
1,083 words; about a 5 minute read
Mission:
Oblivion
Location: Scent of Love, Deck 635/Primary Sickbay, Deck 83
Timeline: MD 5 1445
Herodia watched her mother put together the bouquet. "Who's that one for?" she asked.
"Lt. Colonel Wellington. You've heard of her?" her mother answered, poking more thin stems of edelweiss.
"Ummm, maybe? Is she the one who got blown up by a pirate?" the thirteen-year-old asked.
"Not exactly. She rammed the pirate with her fighter. In the process, his vehicle blew up, causing hers to explode. He died, she didn't. Let that be a lesson to you," responded her mother, meticulous about the facts.
"A lesson in ... not ramming into pirates?" Herodia asked, confused as to what else could be learned from the story.
Flavia stopped and looked at her daughter, shaking her head. "No, a lesson in what happens to evil creatures. I heard a saying in a vintage old Earth holo once: Crime doesn't pay. I've found that to be true across all times and cultures."
"Oh. I wasn't planning a life of crime, Mumsie," the girl said grinning, "but I'll file the lesson away somewhere." Changing the subject, she said, "That's edelweiss, right? What does that mean? I haven't seen it used very often."
"No, it isn't really one for lover's bouquets, but it suits this one. It means 'daring and courage'. The colonel certainly displayed that. And it seems she's paid the price for it, too, losing her arm."
Horrified, the teen said, "She lost her arm? Mom, what'll she do?"
"What anyone else would do, I expect. She'll either learn to live without it, which I doubt with the medical advances we have available, or she'll get an implant of one kind or another," Flavia answered. "Grab the lavender for me, will you?"
"For ... admiration!"
"Right, and there's a little container of marigolds back in the back. Get those, too. You remember what they mean?" asked her mother, quizzing her since the opportunity presented itself.
"I think so," she called back, her head in the glassed-in refrigerator. Pulling out the two containers, she walked back and set them on the work table. "Comfort?"
"Yes, comfort for the heart. Let's hope it brings comfort for her loss, too." In a few minutes, the florist had a lovely arrangement of orange marigolds, purple lavender and white edelweiss in a rectangular green stone base. She filled in with leafy fern pieces. "A little fascination never hurts."
Standing back she looked at it and nodded her head once. "Now, Miss Smith, I think you are playing delivery girl today."
"Me? What do I say to someone who's gone through what she has? I'm a clueless kid!" Herodia protested.
"You'll think of something," her mother said. "You just remember that she's like everyone else, really. But you might not even see her." She tied a bow from lavender, orange and white ribbons and poked the stick into the dirt on one side before pushing the arrangement toward her daughter.
"I guess it's better than babysitting," she said.
Wellington shifted in her bed, hoping her new arm would be ready soon. The viewer on the wall currently displayed the Federation News Service, as a Trill anchor spoke about a Klingon Ambassador meeting with a Starfleet Admiral on Earth. Wellington hadn't really paid much attention. It seemed as if every time she closed her eyes, she would relive the final moments of her battle with the Orion Fighter. The chime to her door sounded, breaking her out of her trance. "Come in."
Carefully carrying the potted flowers, the teen-ager entered the colonel's room. She glanced around, saw a small table that wasn't in use, and quickly set the pot down. "Hello, Colonel Wellington," she said, not drawing closer. "I'm Herodia Smith, and my family owns a florist shop in the Promenade, Scent of Love. This bouquet is from us to you, to thank you for your service, and let you know how much we appreciate you. Would you like to know what each of the flowers say?"
Wellington studied the girl for a moment and then her eyes went to the vase of flowers. She hadn't expected to be sent flowers. "Your family sent these for me? I've never even been in your store before."
The girl nodded, "I know, but that's my parents for you. They pay attention to everyone, and my mother thought you deserved something beautiful after the last few days. See these little orange flowers?" she pointed to them. "Those are marigolds. They're my mother's favorite flower because when you send them to someone, they mean 'comfort for the heart'." She glanced at the injured hero and added. "She means she's sending you comfort in this time that you might need it."
"I see," Wellington said, pausing for a moment. She didn't really feel like having company and yet, a part of her appreciated the sentiment and should at least try to be hospitable. "What do the others mean?"
"Well, this little white one here? That's Edelweiss. You probably never heard of it," Herodia said matter-of-factly. "It's an old Earth flower. There was some country in a war a long time ago where the people used it as a symbol of ... um, unity, I think? Against the enemy, sort of a secret symbol. Maybe because of that, it's come to mean daring and courage. Mama said she knew some daring people, but she didn't think any of them had the courage to do what you did."
She paused for a second and then blurted out, "I'm sorry it caused you so much damage, but I guess that's why it was so courageous. Did you ... " she stopped, wondering if she should ask, but wouldn't it be rude not to finish the question? "Did you think you would survive when you went for the collision with the bad guy?"
The question caught Wellington off guard as she searched for the right answer. "To be honest, it was the only option I had left. Whether I lived or died was unimportant--only killing the other pilot mattered. When it happened, I never thought about the consequences--it was more of instinct." She didn't mention the fact that she now wished she hadn't survived to the girl.
"Oh. I guess I get that. It's like when my brother took a nose dive off the top level of the seating at the circus last year. I didn't stop to think, I just went for him. He was fine. I broke my nose!" She smiled, and then sobered quickly. A broken nose was nothing like losing an arm.
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