Southern monsoon season, Intaki Prime, before dawn in the ruins of Odiya Vihar.
Under a decaying arch, Beltana sat with her eyes wide open in meditation. She stared out into the overgrown courtyard, and beyond over the pockmarked temple roofs, some statuary broken, while some crooned against the elements defiantly.
For three hours she had now sat in wide-eyed meditation; her eyes alternated between trickling tears and burning for dryness. Her implants doubled her sensory computation, factoring in memories from her almost dozen past lifetimes, her thoughts formed cascading layers of vivid consciousness that began to break through the pain and beyond the senses altogether. The plane of space-time spread out; but very slowly.
As the Odiyan rituals stated, she sat half exposed to the rain, and half covered, a half-forgotten Reborn purification ritual, in hopes to find some clarity through the pain of the Sickness, the toll of space wars, and most of all, the scourge of time.
A break in the clouds and a streak of glorious sunlight illuminated the weedy courtyard where Beltana sat; the Spring Sign came, and she closed her eyes.
Father left on the Iteron, to Dodixie, claiming he would see the Federation bring dignity to the Intaki. But it was a lie. They all lie.
Beltana broke the spell. The grim ones still abode in this place. She could not abide it. Tearing off the white cotton robe, she ran through the courtyard, cursing at herself. “You idiot, what did you expect in this place? You wanted a nostalgic vacation, and it had to be the bloody haunted theme park! Just couldn’t abide sitting in that Buzzard for one more second, could you! Brilliant!”
Boarding her capsule, she plugged in the orbital autopilot and blasted clear of her alma mater, and sighed happily as the capsule stabilized her hypothermia. She took three deep breaths, found herself in space, gazing out into the deep blue of glorious Placid. “Bob be praised,” she said, setting course for Nova.
