Monday, September 24, 2007

Once Upon A Light Year

It was a thoroughly ordinary day aboard the SS Vesuvius, champion of Earth’s starship fleet. Complicated machines beeped and hummed, the crew shuffled back and forth between their menial duties. Outside the Captain’s office, the higher-ranking officers also went about their work. But all was not normal here in the spacious control room. A heavy cloud seemed to weigh down on them, as gloomy and depressive as a half-hearted storm which doesn’t quite have enough fuel to find release.
They worked with funereal enthusiasm; listlessly processing data reports, pushing buttons which blinked with half their characteristic brilliance. Things would have progressed in a similarly bleak manner if it weren’t for the assiduous Lieutenant Daniel Sawyer, who decided to tackle the source of this dreariness and bring back the spark in his precious colleagues’ lives.
He stood up, his features set in determination, and walked heedlessly towards the maelstrom. His comrades stared at him as if in a trance, expressing varying degrees of concern, fear and hope.
“Don’t,” he raised his hand to silence their pleas, “It has to be done. We can’t go on like this,” his voice quivered on the last note.
A warm hand squeezed his shoulder, bolstering him, “Be strong, Danny,” Second Lieutenant Ururu Obotti whispered.
Nodding decisively, he strode to the captain’s office and knocked on the door none too lightly.
Silence.
Sawyer knocked again, and thought he heard a faint sigh.
“Captain, I’d like to have a word with you,” he announced.
More silence, followed by more sighing.
“Are the Gorgons attacking?”
“No, but-”
“Is the lumilator malfunctioning again?”
“Well, not really, but-”
“Are you getting those warts again on your-”
“Really, Captain!” interrupted a slightly red-faced Sawyer, “This has gone on far too long, I must let you know that you’re depressing the entire crew with your dismal attitude and that you’re being very unsporting about this whole affair.”
Everyone hung on to this exchange with bated breath, straining to hear the Captain’s response. Sawyer tried to ignore a curious voice that wondered aloud about where exactly his warts were bothering him.
Tentatively, Sawyer opened the door and peeked in. What he saw made his heart ache with pity. His idol, his mentor, his beloved Captain was languishing in his chair, watching his pet hamster Lily snoring on the papers he was supposed to sign three days ago.
“Captain,” he implored softly.
“I miss her Danny boy. Alas, why is it that all great romances are fated to end in tragedy?” he asked in a small voice.
“But sir, she’s…she’s their Princess, and well…the consequences of your union, sir!” Sawyer beseeched, trying to be the voice of reason.
“Ah, Danny, Danny, Danny,” he began with his standard dramatic flair, “You are so young, so ignorant about love. I hope you’ll understand some time, it isn’t everyday your true love walks into your life…oh, the heartbreak. Love, she is cruel, giving you hope, that one chance, and then snatching it all…”
Being used to his Captain’s soliloquies, Sawyer choose this moment to indulge in thoughtful reverie. All of a sudden, he straightened and left the Captain lamenting to no one in particular. Closing the door behind him, he faced his colleagues, who looked up at him expectantly.
“So, is he still in mourning?” asked Samson Mckennon, Data Analyst.
“Worse. He’s reciting poetry about doomed love affairs to Lily,” Sawyer looked around gravely.
“We have to do something, anything,” Mimi Defrou fretted. As for her post, well, no one’s quite sure. She’s presumably one of those token curvaceous women whose job is to look fabulous in a tight red uniform.
“I’ve been giving this some thought,” Sawyer began hesitantly, “The Captain, he’s done a splendid job, very honourable, and well, he’s been a good Captain. And he’s getting on in age, so I was just thinking, he’s supposed to retire soon anyway, and I hate the idea of him wasting away, lonely and miserable, with no one to care for him…”
“No one to remind him to eat his vegetables,” Ururu added.
“No one to force him to exercise,” Samson pitched in.
“No one to talk to except Lily…” Sawyer trailed off.
This last comment was too much for everyone to bear. Mimi burst into tears. Samson saw his opportunity and rushed off to comfort her, ensconcing her in his eager arms. Sawyer cleared his throat loudly.
“Listen! I have a plan to get them together,” he yelled over the mass hysteria.
The sobbing stalled, the murmuring subsided, and all eyes were focused on him once again.
With a deep breath, Sawyer told them of his plans, what later came to be called ‘Operation Save Captain from Self-Destruction’, or OSCS for convenience.

* * *

After much plotting and more scheming, the four dedicated crew members of the lovesick Captain William Deverell and some other extraneous unimportant helpers had devised the perfect plan, and were currently in the process of orchestrating it.
It was a setting rather similar to the beginning in the control room, except the storm clouds that were hanging over them were crackling with energy, spurring everyone into action.
Unable to wallow by himself, the Captain decided to make a rare appearance among them. Unfortunately for him, they were rather absorbed at that moment. The Captain felt distinctly ignored while everyone rushed around him, triggering another attack of self-pity in the pining depths of his heart.
“For the love of God, Captain, could you please sit down somewhere, you’re in the way!” Sawyer barked, finally reaching his breaking point. He immediately caved into guilt and remorse when he saw the wounded expression on the Captain’s face.
“Please sit down, sir. Trust me, you’ll know what’s going on soon enough. What’s our position?” he yelled out at the navigator.
“21.3 light years to Andromeda, sir!”
“Good, Buxley, prepare the vessels. Right, Captain. Ururu, you and I will be taking the space vessel to Alencia. We already sent word to Princess Shaila through a reliable source, she will be waiting for you. I’ve made arrangements for the two of you to escape to Isen, you’ll be taken care of there. Here, I’ve written down what you need to do somewhere…no, memorize this, just in case. Oi, you, what the bleeding hell do you think you’re doing?” he stalked off to berate a stumbling subordinate.
“Sawyer,” the Captain called feebly, and was ignored once again. A little indignantly, he called out again. No response. This time, he snapped, “Sawyer!”
Looking the Captain dead in the eye, Sawyer answered calmly, “Captain, you have never let us down in all the years we’ve served the Enterprise. I ask that you let us do our part in returning the favour.”
“Danny, do you realise what this could potentially result in? You will all be court martialed for conspiracy, I will be stripped of my rank and possibly worse, and Shaila - I shudder to think what her people would do to her,” his voice trembled.
“I told you Captain, it’s taken care of. You and Shaila will live an anonymous life with untraceable identities in Isen in relative peace and comfort. We have fake medical reports that will certify your, ah, demise, due to a deadly toxic virus that accidentally made its way…never mind that, the important thing is, everything’s taken care of. We just ask that you let us help you, it’s the least we can do,” Sawyer concluded.
“You’re not exactly giving me a choice, are you Danny boy?” the Captain sighed.
“No, sir, I’m not.”
Captain William Deverell was not a man of few words. He was unabashedly garrulous by nature. But for once in his life, he was speechless. He was unbearably moved. At the same time, he was torn between his desire to see the fruition of his love, and to do his duty. So, he merely looked at his trusted Lieutenant with moist eyes, and said quietly, “Thank you.”
Sawyer gave a small smile, and nudged him along, preparing to board the vessel.
Everyone bid their hurried, tearful goodbyes, alternately wishing the Captain good luck and thanking him profusely.
Sawyer set off first, and Ururu followed with the Captain in tow. The whole universe seemed to just zip past; stars, planets and moons all morphing into each other. The minutes flew by so quickly that all the Captain could do when they landed on a deserted cove was blink in surprise.
“We’re here?” he asked uncertainly.
“Yes, Captain,” Ururu said kindly, and squeezed his arm.
“They’re here, come on, we have to hurry,” Sawyer said urgently, appearing along with two cloaked figures.
One of the cloaked figures gave a half-sob as she prepared to launch herself into the Captain’s waiting arms. They embraced tightly, and dissolved in sweet mutterings of love. The onlookers waited patiently for a few moments before scooting them along.
“Captain. Princess,” he bowed a little, “You have to hurry. Captain,” he breathed deeply, “You know what to do. You and the Princess go first, Ururu and I will follow you till the end of the quadrant, and once you get to Isen, please send us a message to assure us of your safe arrival.”
“I shall, my dear boy,” the Captain pumped his hand, “I could never thank you enough, all of you. I…as an expression of my gratitude, I would like you, Danny, to have my Lily,” at this he started tearing up, “Take good care of her.”
Sawyer flinched yet tried to smile as if to say, “I’m honoured”, but instead he just looked like he was having indigestion. Severe indigestion.
“And Ururu, you can have my Kaftan, the one with the purple paisley work, and I want Mckennon to have my harpsichord…as for Mimi, eh, she can have my collection of stamps,” he ended generously.
“You don’t have a collection of stamps, Sir,” Sawyer reminded him.
“Eh? Well, then buy her another red suit. I must say she looks rather-” Captain Deverell merely coughed and laughed nervously when he noticed his soon to be wife look at him pointedly. “Well, then, I guess this is goodbye,” he concluded brightly.
“Yes, well, good luck, Sir, have a happy life. And you too, Princess,” Sawyer bowed some more.
Ururu just sniffled and hugged the happy couple.
Amidst a lot of thanks and goodbyes, they shot their last looks at each other, and hopped into the vessels.
Later, as Sawyer and Ururu were en route to the mother ship, Ururu asked quietly, “You think it’ll work out?”
Sawyer seemed lost in thought as he contemplated the recent happenings.
Finally, he said, “I think so.”
A companionable silence settled over them.
“So,” Ururu drawled, “I take it you have a dinner date with the delectable Lily tonight?”
For propriety's sake, it would be safe to pretend that the rest of Sawyer’s words were lost in the blasting jet of the engine, and scattered across the skies interspersing with the stars as they made their way home, slightly heavy-hearted, yet for the most part, happy.