#this is an AU where like... Aella's lost her memory. she goes by Liana. she ran away. it's all Fun and Awful

[empathicstars]

Nothing More Important

  It’d been a long, grueling, impossible fifty hours. Longer and more grueling and more impossible, believably, than Neoma’d expected it to be. After all, how difficult was it to find a singular officer in a world where identification was required for everything one did?

  Apparently, difficult. She’d been awake and running around the base since 2100 hours on, uh... --... how many days ago was it? One, two? It was hard to keep track. All Neoma could remember any longer was the pounding of her feet on pavement, of the crisp air that felt drier and drier the longer she was out in it, of the feeling of brick beneath her fingers and metal against her arms as she climbed and scaled the impressive base in search. The teams by her side had switched off five separate times, and more than once someone had attempted to relieve her.

  But she’d made a promise. She told them she’d bring her back.

  And she would.

  Doctors marveled at how she was passing each examination they ran on her in attempts to force her to take her leave. She didn’t seem to be tired, and any scrapes or bruises were beyond minor. What she’d told Jim just before he drifted to sleep was true: she didn’t get sore. But that didn’t mean that spending fifty hours wide awake, soothing every officer she came into contact with, and walking the length of one of the Federation’s biggest bases multiple times over was enjoyable or restful for her. ( That didn’t mean that part of her wasn’t still shaking from an encounter with a limp body in a river, that her disagreements with all of those close to her wasn’t burning a coldness somewhere hard in the back of her throat. )

  Ah, Jim… Fuck. When he learned about this disaster, she was sure he’d staunchly refuse to ever sleep again. And after all her hard work. Ancestors. It felt like all of her effort with everyone was coming up to nothing, now. Encouraging Reg out of his shell, building and mending a relationship with John, her friendship with Luci, Jim… ancestors, she was tired.

  Part of her wondered, briefly, if she could convince Spock to keep all of this on the down low from him -- especially now that it was over. But she didn’t have to know him very well at all to know that that wasn’t an option.

  But at least it was over. At least it wasn’t like waking up on Corvid.

  At least this was a nightmare that would end.

  After checking every Federation and non-Federation ship, the Institute, all of Yorktown… after climbing every building, sliding under every tree, dipping herself deep into water and barging in through every library… Neoma had decided, on a whim, to check for Liana on incoming ships, and was rather floored when it worked. An Aella -- not Liana -- Moore was on a non-Federation supply ship, heading back to Yorktown, and Neoma was going to be there when she docked. It only took a few calls to the captain of that ship to put together the pieces. Liana’d beamed on from a civilian transporter, rather than a Starfleet-specific one -- a transporter that dealt with such a large volume of use that it had no choice but to delete profiles of those who passed through it -- to his ship. She’d been on the base and had been trying to find another ship to lead her elsewhere. It was only a half a day, it seemed, before she’d buckled internally, admitted to him that she’d snuck aboard his ship before shields went up, and requested to take the next return trip with him. He’d agreed, and now she was less than twenty minutes from docking.

  And so, here Neoma stood. Waiting for her. In a bustle of laughing, chattering people, moving swiftly and gleefully throughout a shuttle bay. Her pole collapsed at the magnetic belt on her side, her arms crossed, her hair pulled back into a fishtail braid that she thought maybe looked alright whenever she’d done it. She tugged at the tie to let it free from its mess, let her hair fall around her, catch briefly in the wind.

  For a moment, it was almost too easy to believe that Liana wouldn’t show up, after all. That the information had been a farce. That she’d reported Liana’s recovery prematurely, and she’d have to resume activities again. That this was a break, and not the end.

  But relief touched some distant part of her when she spotted a thin figure walking through the crowds. Dressed in a long white dress, a single book clutched to her chest, as though it’d protect her from the reality she was about to face. Ancestors, Liana looked about as shitty as Neoma felt. Black hollows beneath her eyes, pale, paper-thin skin, body bent in on itself. She stared at the floor with the same guilty expression Meeth wore when he knew he’d done something wrong.

  The same expression her girls had had…

  Neoma breathed out. Released the fifty hours that’d passed -- released the memory of Amila and Naith pouting -- and focused on the start of this hour, focused on the face of this girl.  

  The security officer reached out, palm up, and waited until the kid’d walked to her side to drape her arm around her shoulders. She felt Liana stiffen beneath the contact of the half-hug, but Neoma still leaned forward to distribute a kiss in her hair.

  “Welcome back, Liana.”

  Liana’s head tilted up so painfully slowly -- and when their eyes met, everything in the kid’s face was open, childish, shocked. She was round, and gentle, and small, and… Ancestors, she looked like she was about eleven years old. “H… i.”

  Neoma squeezed her with one arm. “You really gave us a fright, you know.”

  “I… I did?”

  The confusion would’ve been funny if it wasn’t so heartbreaking. Maybe still would’ve been if Neoma hadn’t spent the better part of these past few days fighting that fright.

  She smiled, instead of answering -- tapped her with her thumb and began leading her away from the ships. “Where were you off to?” Conversational. Light.

 Liana stared back down, once again. Felt a little bit closer to Neoma than she had moments before. “I don’t…” Nearly choked. “I do not know. Just… away. As far away as possible.”

  “Well,” with humor in her teeth, “you know, if you want to go far away, the Enterprise is a great place to do it.”

  Liana’s lips flattened, and she ducked her head further, but it somehow read almost as a small smile might.

  They walked for a bit in silence, and, wow -- how good silence could sound. How good walking could feel! But what sounded even better, y’know, was conversation. Especially conversation that mattered. So…

  “I hear you don’t want to be a Betazoid. You don’t want to be an empath. That right?”

  She jolted, as though something horrific had been found out. “Y… yes.”

  “Why not?”

  The sounds of the crowd from the bay were beginning to disperse. It made her pause sound even louder. “I… I want to be normal. I want to be… like everyone else.”

  Ha. “You are like everyone else.”

  “No.” Her voice was dark, steady, so suddenly it was surprising. It was too much like the Aella Neoma’d met one time in a communications bay. “I am apart from them, and they from me.”

  “Apart?” Neoma’d never been fantastic at clamping at her humor -- and now was no exception. A hard laugh, rough and grainy and loud erupted from her.

  “W-- what is so funny?” Ah, there she was, again -- the petulant child annoyed with the humor she didn’t understand. ( So much like Amila. So much it burned. ) “That is not funny.”  

  “Ha… you really have no idea, huh?”

  “Of course I do not. That -- that is why I asked.”

  “No, no… I meant…” Okay. Stop smiling. Serious Neoma time. “Everyone’s been in a frenzy looking for you. Spock, Reg, John. Casper. ’Ve had to tie almost all of them back from going out to look for you.”

  “What? No -- no, you are -- you are lying.”

  “What’s the point in lying, Liana? Already got you here.”

  She paused. Perhaps, Neoma supposed, to consider that maybe it was true. “R… really?”

  “Really really. Do you know how many times I had to wrangle Spock into submission?”

  “The -- the commander?”

  “Unless there’s two of ‘em.”

  “But -- no! W… why would he…? No. He… he must be like this with everyone.”

  Neoma was able to temper her amusement back to a chuckle, this time. “Nah. He told me you two were close.”

  “What?” She was watching her, now.

  “Yup. He gave me a lot of invaluable information about where to look for you, too. I don’t think any of them’s gotten a lick of sleep since your disappearing act.”

  “I… oh, I…” Her shock fell into something else. Something small and sad, plain enough for even Neoma to get. “I did not mean to worry them. I did not know they would realize my absence. I -- I just wanted… to be free.”

  Free, huh? Neoma sighed -- probably came out more like a huff. Either way, the noise was low, rueful. She didn’t get it. Ties were the best part of life. Hadn’t she just said something like that in the comms a few days ago? Having a spot to call your own, and a sky you knew… that was precious. But…

  “Well, my girls wanted to see the stars. They wanted to be free so, so bad. But you don’t have to run away to see the stars. You’re… already in Starfleet.”

  “But I…” A frustrated breath from her. “I do not want to be.”

  “Why not?”

  “I… I do not like it! It is scary, and dangerous. I do not want to live on a ship. I… I do not want to be what she was.”

  “Ancestors, kid.” It came out before she could stop it. That she was so vehemently said. “She who?”

  Liana’s voice fell low, quiet and stripped and now anything but the acid she’d once tasted. “Aella.”

  Oh. Fuck. Well, okay. “Why are you separating them?”

  “What?”

  “You and her. Who you were and who you are. You’re the same people.”

  “N-- no! No!”

  Another one? Really? “Sorry, but… yeah.” Neoma recognized the wiggling -- like an animal wanting to be put down -- and so she stopped, turned to face her. Wherever they were now, it was quieter. Less clattering, less people. Neoma pressed both her palms into Liana’s shoulders, watched her shrink, slightly. “Listen to me.” She waited until her gaze lifted, even if was only minute at first. “I used to live beneath a volcano. I’d sleep with a burlap sack over my face, and wake to watch the guar. I hadn’t been ten miles from where I lived. I hated fighting. I just wanted to watch my guar in peace. Fabric like this…” She rubbed at Liana’s shoulders. “I’d never even seen it before. It was a whole different world. And now look at me. I’m a security officer out in space. Lightyears away from where I raised those guar. On ground that isn’t really ground. On a planet that’s not really a planet. Using technology, every day, when the most expensive thing I used to own was… I don’t know. Maybe my staff. And if you’d asked me then where I’d be now… I’d never see it. I’d never see this.”

  “Then how did you get here?” By now, Liana was staring at her. Her eyes were large, glassy, fixed. Neoma felt the weight of her attention keyed into every single word. “Why are you here?”

  “Things changed. Lot of things changed. And I got new perspective. And... I guess that’s what happened to you, too. No, you don’t know why you’d want to live on a ship, or be in Starfleet. No, it doesn’t make sense to you. But you don’t remember the perspective that made you want to be here. So of course you’re confused. Of course you’re lost. But what… what if you could rediscover that perspective? What if you could learn more about yourself?”

  The eyes staring back at her were brimming with tears, now. She opened her mouth twice -- two false-starts -- before she found her voice.

  “I… I am scared something would happen to me. To who I am. John tells me he has a Haliaan waiting to heal me… but I do not believe it will heal me. I believe it will kill me.”

  “Kill you?”

  “Who I am…” Her palm raised from her side, and she stared at it, pressed fingertips against it. “I will be gone. Another person will take her place.”

  “No. Hey, look at me. No. Same person. Just new perspective. Okay? And it’s not gonna be like a…” She lifted a hand, only for as long as it took her to snap. “... you know? You may get the perspective and decide… hey. I still want to go to the Institute. I still want to leave Starfleet. And then you can. But then you’ll know, too. And something like sensing someone’s emotions won’t set you off so much that you disappear.”

  Eyelashes fluttered, and a tear fell to Liana’s cheek. Neoma moved to wipe at it with the back of her hand. The kid’s eyes shuddered closed from the contact.

  “I’m not gonna make you stay in Starfleet, okay? It’s your life. But… if you’re going to leave, I’m gonna make you say goodbye.”

  It was supposed to sound almost jesting, that last sentence, but… Liana wasn’t opening her eyes. Wasn’t relaxing again. Fuck. Neoma’d not fucked up, had she?

  Neoma was grasping at new words to throw Liana’s way when she spoke again, in a voice so quiet it was almost drowned out by the nothing around them.

  “They… really missed me? They really… worried about me?”

  “Really, really.”

  Liana’s lips thinned, and she stared down at her hand again. Edged a foot a bit against the ground. “Then… then I should at least try. For them.” Tentatively… “After all… there… is nothing more important than family, yes?”

  When Neoma laughed this time, she felt it -- felt the joy, the relief, the end of a nightmare. And this time, when she pulled Liana into a hug, she felt a warmth in her belly that would’ve made it nearly impossible not to.

  “That’s exactly right, kiddo.”