Badb Beat.

Posted on Fri Jun 20th, 2025 @ 11:57pm by Doctor Teagan Ceja

752 words; about a 4 minute read

Set: After the events of "Again and Again, and Again, and Again."

Teagan stretched, laughing quietly as a soft mist seemed to flow around her fingers part way through the fluid moves. Similar to the Earth practise of Tai Chi, these were as much about flex as they were about strength.

She finished, bowing towards the wall she had designated as 'rising sun.' There were no directions per se in Space, and not all worlds had a sun that rose in the East. Nanceddan hadn't. "Not Nanceddan," she reminded herself. "Ithrone, and Alshanti, not human. So many changes."

Did I change too much? The thought stalled her mid step.

'You're you, and not you.' 'Is everything alright?'

She couldn't put this off any longer, and could not ignore the questions that Riya was asking. Or James, for that matter. She wanted to ignore them. Pretend that nothing had changed. What was she going to say?

Would Riya even understand? Would Aklar?

She thought for a moment, and shook her head. Aklar would understand. Be curious, and delighted for her.

And how could she explain Badb? Or the hunger that had driven her into the forests on her homeward. A desperate need that would have overtaken her years ago if she hadn't left for Starfleet. All those missed years. She'd never be able to make it up to Badb.

"Ha."

Her parents would have collectively lost their minds if she'd come home with Badb. The reality would have really been long periods of time atoning for her transgression. And some hard questions about exactly how it was that she had the Old Blood.

She took down a slim box from a shelf in her closet, and sat on her bed holding it tightly.

This was simpler. She had discovered the small painting by accident in a street market on a small world circling a red sun, and had bought it after a flurry of haggling. Both she, and the stall owner, had enjoyed the fun of it, and he gave her a steal of a price.

Maybe, she thought, Riya would like the painting. It looked like a Phaele Aklar painting. The colours and brush strokes were right, and it was similar enough to one she already owned, that it might have been painted at the same time. Not that she'd taken it out of the frame. No way to tell for sure, but still. Maybe Riya would like it. Maybe.

Her fingers closed around the box. Riya Aklar wanted answers. But then again, so did she. Why was Drogan's medical record sealed in such a way that she could not access it? What happened to him that she'd been given very explicit information about the injury to Aklar but nothing more. Nothing that would satisfy her questions.

And Riya? Her feelings were confused about Riya. She had always been able to keep separate Drogan and Aklar, and loved them both deeply. But this? This was the third Aklar host she had known.

There were rules about that.

A soft chirrup sounded from somewhere around the curve of her collar bone and shoulder. She patted the area. "I'm alright," she soothed.

"If alright means you are sitting here maudlin rather than getting on with things," came the thought.

Rolling her eyes, she got to her feet. "Fine," she said out loud.

Which is how, about fifteen minutes later, she was standing outside the door of the shared quarters that Riya had been assigned. Shifting her feet, and looking like she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

She raised her hand to press the door chime. Then snatched it back again. There were rules about this. Rules that were strict, and harsh, and absolutely unavoidable.

"But you already broke them," came the intrusive thought. "This is the third of Aklar's hosts that you have impacted. The damage, as they say, is done."

She took a step backwards, fiddling with the end of a braid. Feeling like she was never going to feel untangled, she turned to go.

"Lir, enough." Badb's voice was firm. "I did not choose someone so weak. I chose a warrior."

Another roll of the eyes, and she muttered, "That's TJ and Anya. I'm the healing type, remember?"

She turned to go, then something prompted her to spin around, and brush her fingers against the panel beside the door.

No way back now... that's if Riya was there. Which she might not be, of course.

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