Requiem

Posted on Thu Jul 30th, 2026 @ 1:39pm by Lieutenant Daniel Ellis

Mission: Retrobandonment

Daniel was not looking forward to shore leave.

To be completely fair, it wasn’t because he was a workaholic, someone whose life was wholly caught up in duty and assignment. He’d missed his grandmother’s funeral while on assignment in the Delta Quadrant. His sister, who’d also decided to join the service, was on the far edge of the Beta Quadrant on assignment. Dee had few connections on Earth, so this had made his shore leave more lonely than effective. Earth had much to offer, and nothing seemed to strike his fancy.

So, after a few weeks, Dee began to consider finding a temporary assignment just to bide the time during the refit. This thought was quickly shelved when he ran into an old friend, an Orion/Human named Xuan Chihyon on leave from K-17. The two had spent the afternoon together at a restaurant close to Xuan’s mother’s lodgings. Laughter was in no short supply, and both had decided to maximize their time together by using two tickets to a musical showcase in San Francisco.

Dee hadn’t attended a formal event before, and he soon found the black-tie dress code to be stiff. He did not appreciate how the collar dug into his neck, or how the bow tie constricted his airways. Daniel had half a mind to cancel, but a sense of chivalry kept him in check. His discomfort subsided quickly the first time he saw the green-skinned woman in her black dress, which wasn’t terribly formal or revealing. She was breathtaking nonetheless.

The performance hall was crowded, awash with a mix of Starfleet personnel, local species, and civilians. Many of the officers had elected to wear dress uniforms, while others, like Dee and Xuan, had traded their Class-A’s for something more formal. Xuan could tell this easily, considering they, like her, still wore their combadges.

Dee picked up a white wine for Xuan and an old fashioned for himself at the bar before finding their seats on the front of the upper balcony. This particular hall was not large, rather was smaller in size than most, and featured small tables in each row, flanked by only two chairs each. The decor, however, reminded him of an early twentieth century art deco, or as well as it could integrate with modern Starfleet technology. The lights dimmed just as soon as they sat, and Dee smiled when he handed Xuan her drink. She smiled in return just before the emcee took the stage.

Five acts would perform tonight, each a soloist performing with an instrument unique to their culture. The first performer was a Vulcan, induced as a Lieutenant Tyrek, with a common lyre. Dee listened to the performance carefully, and while it was beautiful, and one would say logical, it lacked emotion. He didn’t find himself moved at all.

The second performer was a Delta Quadrant native who’d been visiting Earth, a Kolhari brandishing a silver instrument that resembled a human trumpet. The Kolhari was a unique species, possessing a single eye, a long snout, and a small sliver for a mouth. Dee was surprised to see the Kolhari insert its snout into the large end of the trumpet. It then positioned its fingers along the narrow body. From his vantage point, Dee could make out a series of small holes. What followed was a nearly harrowing sound. He had expected something more like Bach’s Sonata in B minor, but instead the tune was screeching and ear piercing. Beside Dee, Xuan winced and covered an ear while her eyes kept glancing down, wondering if her wine glass would shatter under the intense frequencies.

The third and fourth acts, a Bolian and a Grazerite, were not much to speak of either. Both, however, were far more relaxing and enjoyable than the Kolhari. Dee continued to glance over the Xuan, who’d lost herself in the music. It was obvious that she enjoyed the experience far more than he did, especially since she already had an inclination to music, and Dee was quite the novice.

The final act took the stage, a female Enaran with a strange instrument. Its construction and shape reminded Dee of a mandolin, but without strings. One side of the instrument featured a small dome of sorts, which illuminated itself based on touch.

Silence commanded the stage for a moment as the artist settled herself. The artist flexed her fingers and then softly grazed the dome. A serene tone emanated from the instrument for a second before bursting into a melodic fanfare.

Dee was taken aback almost instantly, surprised that something so beautiful could come from such an unsuspecting source. The lively tone tantalized his ears and danced across his skin. For a moment, Dee swore he could feel goosebumps. The movement continued for a couple minutes. Suddenly, a vision flashed in front of Dee.

He was in a small room with nothing much to speak of. The walls were mostly bare, and instead of a beautiful sky coming from the windows, it was a massive starfield. Dee looked out the window, only to realize that the view was familiar. A startled laugh came from behind her. She turned quickly to see a family of three (a father with a baby girl and a young boy beside them), sitting on a couch. Each of the faces were familiar, and Dee recognized his own face beside his father, and realized that the small girl that sat in her father’s lap was Claire, his younger sister. Standing across from them was his mother, holding her most prized possession, a violin that had been passed down through the generations.

Her mother stopped playing and was rewarded with applause.

“Bravo!” Dee exclaimed, clapping excitedly.

Dee’s mother smiled as the music transitioned from a faster medley to a medium pace and then to something slower. As his mother began to play the violin, the room began to darken. His mother evaporated and the walls turned to a drab gray. Sadness enveloped Dee as he gazed upon the violin. It sat on top of the closed case, begging to be played. Dee reached for it, only to find that his adult hand had morphed into that of a young child, much too small to properly grasp the bow and the violin’s neck at the same time.

The instrument clattered to the floor as the somber movement continued to play. A tear fell down Dee’s check as he became enthralled by the memory. The memory soon faded, replacing the vision with that of the stage. The Enaran still sat in the middle of the stage, continuing to stroke her instrument and blanketing the hall with the emotion of her music. Dee remained motionless, lost in the music.

New tones came from the instrument, guiding the performance into a faster movement. Themes and notes from both of the preceding pieces were present, almost as if this movement’s ancestors worked to guide and shape it, much as parents and experience produced an adult’s behavior and life.

The piece came to an end, and the performer stood up to curtsy. Much like the rest of the hall, Dee and Xuan both rose to their feet to provide a standing ovation. “Brava!” Xuan shouted to the stage, tears of her own lining her cheeks.

Later that evening, after Dee had left Xuan with her mother, he returned to his temporary lodgings near the bay. He did not discard his tuxedo, though he did loosen the tie’s grip on his throat. He opened a box of personal effects he’d retrieved from storage and rustled around until he found a family photograph, taken just before his parents were lost with the USS Navajo.

The last several times he’d thought of his childhood, the memories had been sour and sorrowful. For the first time in years, he was able to relish in a happy memory.

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