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Tachyon

The Intangibles

“The Intangibles”

September 10, 2156

Lieutenants Dave Grey and Jas McCellan (with special guest star, the salad)

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Dave played with the food on his plate. Eating lunch with Jas had been a mistake. His euphoria from Sauria long gone, he knew that he was beginning to sink back into a miserably morose state. Jas would only try to cheer him up—or worse, agree with him and remain silent. Dave looked up and wondered if he could dare to look her in the eyes....

 

Jas put her head on a glass of grape juice. Ever since coming back from the surface she just felt like sleeping. Or support her head on something solid. Unfortunately, unlike her head, she could not prop up her spirit.

 

So it would be silence then. Dave could handle that—or couldn't, depending. He turned his head away and looked at the window, but saw only the customary bleakness of stars streaking by at warp speed. Every second brought them closer to Earth. To Harriet. Dave didn't realise that he was so distracted he had begun to eat the fake flowers of the centrepiece instead of his salad.

 

"G-G-Grey..." Jas inquired as to why Dave's sudden hunger for plastic has manifested itself.

 

Snapping his head back up—a little too fast, causing an audible crack from his neck--Dave looked surprised as he said, "Yes?" Only when he noticed the tang of the plastic as it went down his throat did he realise, to his chagrin, that his salad was untouched. He started to play with a piece of lettuce. "This is it, Jas. It's all come down to this."

 

Jas stared. The guy in front of him had just ate plastic. She opened her mouth, no words came out of the otherwise unremarkable cavity in her face. It was the stark surprise that she did not know this man that caused Jas to falter.

 

Misinterpreting her silence as a wilful attempt to ignore him, Dave exploded. "How can you be so calm at a time like this?!" People at surrounding tables looked at him with consternation as he raised his voice, and Dave lowered it slightly and added, "How can you be so stoic?"

 

The outburst took her by surprise as her heart pounded louder and louder. Jas still stared, frozen. What could she say? What did he want her to say? But then she found out that he would not give her a chance to say anything. Dave stood up, salad barely touched. "I have a lot of things to do before we get back to Earth. I'll see you around." He turned to leave.

 

"Wait." Jas stood up, and Dave stopped. "Calm? Do you think I want to be calm?” asked Jas, some uncharacteristic sarcasm creeping into her voice. “I can't stop thinking about it. I can't help not thinking about it." Her voice rose. "How can I be calm when I can't do anything?! I look calm? WELL ... " She trailed off, coming to the end of her rant. "... that just doesn't sound right."

 

Her response, rather than angering Dave, reassured him—at least he did not immediately go. Tensions had just been running high for the past few weeks, and they had not discussed Harriet since before their visit to Sauria. It was always on his mind, and to know that it was always on Jas' mind too was . . . it made Dave think that perhaps he wasn't so alone after all.

 

“I wish I could stop thinking about it, you know," confessed Dave. "I feel bad saying this, but I wish I could just forget about it for once. It's a terrible thing to say; she's my sister."

 

"It's gone long ... so long. I don't know how you are feeling but I can tell you can't take anymore."

 

"We arrive at Earth in less than eight days." Dave glanced over to the chronometer on one wall. "I want . . . I want you there. No matter what happens, Jas."

 

"I will be there. You don't have to suffer all by your self." Dave opened his mouth to say something, and then shook his head. Jas added, "Your sister doesn't have to suffer alone either."

 

"No, it wasn't that. I just think that, if Harriet were around ... I think she'd have liked you a lot." Dave sat back down. "You're quiet, Jas, but you've got a heart of gold.” Dave winced even as the cliché slipped from his mouth. “And as infinitely improbable as it may be, I think you've got what Harriet would call 'spunk'." Here he smiled, the first smile that had crossed his face since Jas had sat down to eat with him.

 

Jas asked, “What is it?”

 

“She told me to watch out for quiet girls with spunk. . . .”

 

The conversation lapsed as they both paused to eat. Jas finished her meal and set down her napkin. “I want you to promise me something, Dave.”

 

“Anything.”

 

"Then promise me you won't beat your self up any more. Promise me you'll do everything you can to save her. Because I can't bare seeing it." She fumbled for a napkin to dry her tears, unbidden but unstoppable, and rub them away.

 

Dave shook his head again. "No. I only make promises that I can keep."

 

"I guess, everyone can only make promises they can keep...” But she wondered, was this promise really so hard to keep? As a doctor, Jas had developed a certain amount of detachment when it came to death—she had to, in order to function. Dave hadn't such a shell into which he could retreat, but he was stubborn enough as it was. What was stopping him from coping with this? Was there really anything else that could rub this wound raw and keep him from healing?

 

Dave did not notice Jas staring at him as he polished off his salad. He stared at the leafy greens and the juicy tomato. They had never known their fate before being plucked from the hydroponics garden; they had never learned how far they would travel before being eaten. The lettuce was crunchy; the tomato was sweet; the entire dish was definitely one of the better meals Dave had had in awhile.

 

He wished he could promise Jas what she asked. It was not that he didn't want to; he just could not, and he didn't know if Jas could understand. She was a doctor, after all—she saw patients die all the time. He was just a stupid theorist; he wasn't even cut out for practical science. Yet here Dave was, gallivanting across all of creation on a starship.

 

So why was he even here? Dave Grey had never wanted to leave the Sol system. If he hadn't taken up a commission on Challenger, if he had left after Harriet's accident, maybe he could have saved her . . . maybe—but Dave left the thought at that. He had considered leaving Starfleet hundreds of times now, and each time, Dave reached the same decision.

 

“I'll promise you something else though,” he finally said. “I promise that, no matter what happens on Earth, I will be on this ship when we leave port once again.”

 

But Jas' reply cut Dave's legs out from under him. “I ... I may not be able to promise the same thing.” She looked away, and consequently she missed the fleeting expression on Dave's face, the only one that might ever have changed her mind.

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