A ghost returns to life - Part Two

Posted on Sat Mar 22nd, 2025 @ 2:16am by Lieutenant JG Patra Rommel

2,145 words; about a 11 minute read

Patra’s family, once they had recovered from the shock of finding out Patra was alive, rejoiced. There were many questions, that Patra tried, and mostly succeeded, deflecting. She told her family she could not discuss things do to operational security. She also, even though she knew it was not true, said that Starfleet Mortuary Affairs must have made a mistake, after all Starfleet was still working on trying to identify all the personnel who had been lost in the fleet battles of the Dominion War. Her family finally settled down and they all went out to celebrate her return. She disappointed her father and mother when she declined to stay with them, instead asking her Opa (Grandfather) agreed. With heartfelt goodbyes and promises to see everyone during her leave; she and her Opa left to return to the solitude of his home.

Johannes observed his enkelin (granddaughter) as the hovercar took them to his home. He had put it into automatic mode. Patra stared out the window, engrossed by the scenery. It had been a very long time since she had seen so many trees and wildlife. She realized she was homesick.
Johannes broke the silence “Care to talk about it enkelin?”
Patra sighed heavily “Was just admiring the scenery and think how long its been since I saw the Bavaria countryside. Kind of makes me a little homesick Opa.”
Johannes took a deeper look at his granddaughter, the realization hit him hard that some of her spark had disappeared. She seemed lost. “Care to talk about what is really bothering you?”
Patra looked over at her grandfather “Nothing is wrong Opa, just tired. I feel a little drained right now.”
Johannes nodded She is more than tired, she is soul weary. Whatever happened has unleashed some very deeply hidden demons. he thought. He knew better, from hard learned lessons, than to press the issue. Instead he decided to approach a subject that may just as volatile “Have you spoken or sent word to your geliebte Doctor Victoria Holiday? She attended the memorial service when everyone had been told you were presumed dead.”
As he expected Patra seemed to grow very pale and more withdrawn. “No, I have not. I am sure she has moved on with her life. Besides I have been in medical isolation and being treated for my injuries.”
Johannes nodded again, “You do not think she at least deserves to ow you’re alive and well?”
“What’s the point Opa, I am sure she has moved on. Besides she would most likely be furious that I did not communicate with her about being alive.” Patra didn’t want to tell her grandfather the truth, that she was scared Victoria would reject her, nor understand why she was plagued by deep nightmares. She could not face the woman she had fallen head over heels in love with.
“I merely am suggestion you should consider it. I thought it was easy for Starfleet officers to track each other down?” replied Johannes.
Patra snorted “Under usual circumstance, yes. In my case I have only just been resurrected from the dead. Few beings know I am alive, I won’t say well since I am on recuperative leave.”
Johannes gave a small laugh “Very well my enkelin. One promise though, just consider reaching out to her.”
Patra said in a soft whisper :For you Opa, I will.” With that the hoovercar pulled into the driveway.
“You know where your room is, left a few surprises for you, personal effects given to the family by Starfleet. Your mother and father couldn’t bear to take them, so I did.” Stated her grandfather. “Now get some rest, tomorrow you can go about and look around.” He then went into the house, Patra followed, she went upstairs to her room.

Once Patra was in her room she shut the door, it looked exactly as she had left it. Unfinished cuckoo clocks, random items in various states of repair. On her bed she saw her original Starfleet Duffel bag. She walked up to it and opened it up. Inside were various personal items. Her genuine leather bombardier jacket with the motto of the SS Nostromo: "When IT ABSOLUTELY, POSITIVATELY NEEDS TO BE THERE" surrounding the image of the SS Nostromo. Her beloved grimy, dark blue baseball cap with the symbol of the Federation Merchant Marine and the motto "To maintain the economic health and strength of the Federation and all of its members." in golden stitching on her head. Perhaps I should go back to the Federation Merchant Marine. she thought Would be no more dealing with Starfleet Special Projects and Operations, no more clandestine missions, nor more deception, heck no more having to pull an emergency miracle out of my bum. she thought. She sat on the bed, pondering things.

She was in a dark tunnel "Hurry the hell up Patra, the damn Breen are breathing down are neck. " First Lieutenant Sabine said in her ear. Just then a CRM114 round slammed its energy into the side of the tunnel causing huge chunks of rocky like shrapnel to spew forth. Then began a barrage of type-2 disruptor fire.
Patra mumbled a bunch of curses under her breath "This Breen cold storage computer is a bugger, may have to go to option two and blow it in place Sabe." Patra replied., her hands freezing, even with the thermal gloves on.
"Are you sure?" Sabine asked in an exasperated voice.
With one last attempt to pull the unique computer system Patra replied in frustration "Yes, I was able to get a tricorder schematic of it and actually download the data it was storing but Starfleet Intelligence is just going to have to deal with the fact we couldn't recover this unit."
There was a lot of noise, she felt Sabine turn to shout something; when Patra’s whole world turned into a gory red. Patra could feel warm, sticky fluid suddenly flow all over her.

Patra woke with a scream. She looked wildly about the room. Trying to discern the reality from the PTSD induced dream. She heard the door to her room open, her grandfather stood there. “Are you okay enkelin?” he inquired. He noticed she was soaked with sweat, and that she was still in her clothes. The Starfleet Duffel opened and items strewn on the bed.
Patra coming to herself, desperately trying to control her racing heart. She felt the coldness about her, that her perspiration had induced. “I am okay Opa. Just a bad dream.” More like a nightmare from hell that was hoped up on strong steroids. she thought. Patra could still feel the could of the tunnel, the warmth from the weapons fire, ozone; and worse of all the gore that had been Lieutenant Sabine. thought Patra. “Sorry to have woken you Opa, go back to bed. I’ll be fine.” Said Patra.
Johannes took another look at his granddaughter “Have you spoken to any of the Starfleet medical and counseling staff about your nightmares?” He knew the signs of a PTSD induced nightmare.
Patra smiled “Opa I am fine. Please go back to bed. I’ll clean up and be going to bed myself. Want to go out to the shop and do a new woodcarving; have a wonderful idea for a new cuckoo clock.”
Johannes shook his head., he knew better than to press. In the morning while Patra was busy in the shop, he would make a few discreet calls to friends in Starfleet; ensure she got the help she needed. “Very well enkelin, I’ll go back to sleep. There are Spritzgebäck in the kitchen, get some, a glass of cream milk. Then get some rest. After all you are supposed to be on convalescent leave.” He replied gently, he then turned and left his granddaughter to pull herself together.

Patra sat there until she heard her Opa close his bedroom door. She then stood and stripped off her clothes. Walking nude to the shower, Patra turned on the water, turning it up till the temperature was barely below scalding. She stepped under the spray and just stood there. Her mind began to wander and an image came to her mind, Victoria Holiday, her beautiful redheaded goddess. She almost felt her hands on her body, running over it. She remembered how good it felt the last time the two had showered together. With a start Patra pulled her mind back to the present, Damn it Opa, why did you have to mention her? she thought angerly. Patr reached up and turned the shower off, not trusting herself to fall back into that memory. She had been warned by the Vulcan Healers and Mystics, that her memories would collide and come back vividly; both the bad and the good. Her mind was slowly converting things back to a normal semblance; but she had suppressed a lot of her memories.

Patra grabbed a towel wrapped it around her body and went to the kitchen. Sure enough there were some Spritzgebäck on a glass platter with a glass cover over them; sitting on the old weathered black oak table. Patra went to her grandfather’s old icebox type refrigerator, opened the door and grabbed the bottle of cream milk. Next she found a glass, then went over to the liquor cabinet. She perused her grandfather’s selection of liquor’s. She selected a bottle of Marillenschnaps. She walked to the table with her selection, she set glass, cream milk and Marillenschnaps down; pulled out a chair and sat down. She poured the cream milk into the glass, and added two fingers worth of Marillenschnaps to it. She then uncovered the Spritzgebäck; grabbed one and dunked it in her drink, taking a taste after she had thoroughly soaked the Spritzgebäck. She sat back savoring the taste. She then picked up the glass and took a sip. She repeated this routine through four of the Spritzgebäck, having to refill her cream milk and Marillenschnaps concoction three times. Soon Patra was feeling warm and numb. She put her head on the table drifting off to sleep.

She was on Starbase 12, the red alert klaxon was sounding. She could feel the station shudder as if struck by a hammer. Patra found herself running toward the the medical unit. Plasma fires and electrical arching was occurring everywhere. There was another shudder and a section of the station imploded. She watched as beings were swept into the vastness of space, the blue shields flickering as they struggled to maintain some semblance of integrity. She continued to run, smoke chocking her and obscuring her vision. She slide into sickbay, which was glowing a hellish red. Everywhere she looked it was a scene from some hack and slash horror film. Bodies twisted grotesquely and torn. in the corner she saw what she had been searching for , a woman with redhaired. She ran over to her and turned her gently over, she then recoiled in horror as she saw the individual had gouged out eyeballs.

Patra jerked awake with a start, someone had touched her shoulder. her Opa was gently shaking her awake. In a thick German accent she heard him call "Patra, wake. Wake child it is just a dream."
Coming fully awake Patra looked about. It was early morning, she still had a towel wrapped about her. On the table was the remnants of her meal and drink. "I'm okay" she whispers as she sees the look of concern spread across her grandfathers face.
Johannes sighs and looks at his granddaughter "Child you are not doing well. You need to see a counselor and discuss the dreams your having. If you refuse you'll force my hand, I'll be forced to notify some friends I have in Starfleet Medical about what I have observed." Johannes paused and then went on "Go clean up and dress, pack your things. I'll make breakfast then the two of us will go to Sol Station together."
Patra was about to refuse and rebuff her grandfather, but stopped upon seeing both the seriousness and concern in his face, as well as the iron rod tone of his speech. "Very well." With that she got up and took another shower, dressed, packed her bags and returned to eat a small breakfast. She and her grandfather then got into his hovercar. Patra ignoring her Opa, staring out the window as the went to the shuttle pad in Munich. They boarded and went to the station, upon disembarking Patra was meet by a medical team. She turned and hugged her grandfather. "Get well child, I did this for your own good. She just nodded then turned to be escorted to medical.

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