Okay, I don't own Star Trek. I would really, really like to, but I guess that's not possible. *sniff* I'll have to do without. Nor do I own the title, now that I think of it...Sting has that dubious honor...
This takes place after the first half-hour or so of Star Trek: Generations (many would say that's the only good part of the movie, but not me!) and is a collection of simultaneous thoughts and actions. Read and review! Reviews are bueno and I care what you think!
After the Rain has Fallen
Sulu'It's a dark night in Tokyo,' Sulu reflected bitterly. Though none of the stars could be seen in the lighted haze of the city, Sulu wouldn't have seen them anyway, even if the city hadn't tainted the sky. At the moment, the only things he wanted to see were the images going through his head, memories of his former commander.
James T. Kirk's death had hit him hard, as it would to anyone remotely close to the captain. He and the other bridge members had served together a long time, more than twenty years. Kirk was the father of that close-knit family, and losing the center is always the hardest part of all. That means everything must be restructured in order to keep from collapsing.
He shook his head in disgust. 'On the eve of your friend's funeral, you're treating his death as though it was a mere structural problem. You can deal with those. Simply replace whatever can't hold the weight anymore and you're set. But death, you shy away from it...' It was too true. Death was something that starship captains faced everyday, but when it actually comes it's to be treated with a decidedly clinical air.
He walked, purely by instinct, towards the ocean. The water's calming rhythm had always eased his pain before, from childhood pangs of loneliness to the overwhelming feelings he'd gotten from pressures at Starfleet Academy. The ebb and flow of the tides had always reminded him, rather clichély, that life went on in its eternal cycles. Pain, especially the pain that comes with a loved one's death, was a part of that cycle and would never be parted from it. He snorted. Such poetic words weren't very calming to him at the moment.
The water lapped gently against the shore as he approached, greeting him as though it had been hours as opposed to years since he'd last been there. With a complete lack of decorum, he shed his boots and socks, rolled up his pant legs, and placed his feet in the water's path, reveling in the sense of nostalgia it brought.
He remembered Kirk, on their first five-year mission. He'd been so confident, so self-assured...everything Sulu aspired to be, even after all this time. Kirk's image was one that he strove to present to his crew, and Sulu never forgot the way Kirk ran his ship, the way Kirk took necessary risks without complaint, and the way he never seemed to regret a single decision. Kirk was so much more than his captain; he was his mentor, his friend, and his role model.
Picking up a piece of driftwood, Sulu studied it. It was weather-beaten and imperceptively cracked, but when Sulu rapped it smartly on the beach, it held and refused to break. Chuckling a little, the former helmsman of James T. Kirk's Enterprise placed the driftwood reverently in the surf, watching as the outgoing flow captured it and sent it out to sea.
Sulu stood to watch it, not caring that it would probably be back on the beach in a matter of minutes. The driftwood was a personal send-off for his former captain, a tribute to his moral, emotional, and physical strength. His steadfastness, morality, his enduring friendship...Sulu would never forget it.
Watching it float impassively in the slight waves, Sulu abruptly came to attention and saluted. The driftwood, for its part, gave no reply, but Sulu sensed an inner calm come over him at the gesture, and he bent to put on his boots.
Don't forget to take a few minutes to review; I'd like to know what any and all of you think!
