Some Silent Reflection

Posted on Sun Mar 2nd, 2025 @ 7:34pm by Lieutenant JG Keno Rok

600 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: Episode 1.01 - "Ad Astra"
Location: Holodeck 3, USS Carina

The doors to Holodeck 3 hissed open, revealing a world shaped by Keno Rok’s personal fascination. The Catullan stepped forward, inhaling the crisp, simulated air of an ancient jungle. Towering trees stretched toward the sky, their thick canopies allowing only shards of golden light to filter through. The ruins of a forgotten civilization lay ahead, half-buried in creeping vines and moss, their worn stone faces whispering of stories long untold.

Keno exhaled slowly, taking in the sight. This wasn’t just research—it was something more personal. He had spent weeks programming the details, drawing from his studies of pre-warp civilizations across the quadrant. Every broken pillar, every faded glyph, was an amalgamation of lost cultures he had studied. This was his way of connecting to them, even if only in a simulated way.

He knelt by an ancient tablet resting in the tangled undergrowth, brushing away the dirt with delicate fingers. The carvings were intricate, their looping patterns reminiscent of the decorative motifs found on Catulla, yet blended with influences from Vulcan and even pre-industrial Betazed. A private indulgence—piecing together a culture that had never existed, but could have.

“Computer, increase ambient wildlife sounds by fifteen percent,” he instructed. A chorus of unseen creatures answered, filling the air with the low hum of an ecosystem long since vanished.

Settling onto a flat rock, Keno pulled out a stylus and a large PADD, sketching the patterns onto the screen as he worked through their possible meanings. He let the quiet of the simulated world settle around him, allowing his thoughts to drift.

What had these people believed in? What myths had they whispered beneath these very trees? He would never know, but in this space, in this moment, he could imagine.

And that was enough.

Keno ran his fingers along the weathered surface of a broken column, tracing its spiraling etchings with an almost reverent touch. The sheer artistry, the precision—it spoke of a people who valued beauty as much as function. Were these designs purely ornamental, or did they hold deeper meaning? A forgotten language, a record of sacred knowledge lost to time?

He reached into his field satchel and retrieved a small portable scanner, activating it with a soft chime. The device hummed as it analyzed the markings, cross-referencing them with existing cultural databases. The results were inconclusive—there were echoes of linguistic structures seen in disparate civilizations, but no clear match.

Keno smiled to himself. That was the beauty of it—mystery. The joy of discovery wasn’t always about finding answers. Sometimes, it was about the questions that led to new paths of understanding.

He closed his eyes for a moment, listening to the simulated sounds of the jungle: the rustling of unseen creatures, the distant call of a bird-like animal, the gentle whisper of the wind through the canopy. He could almost believe it was real.

A slight breeze, carefully programmed into the simulation, shifted the leaves overhead, causing dappled patterns of sunlight to dance along the ruins. Keno watched the shifting light play across the tablet in his hands, as if the universe itself was giving him a sign.

He allowed himself a small chuckle. “You always find a way to captivate me,” he murmured to the ruins, as if the long-lost civilization could hear him.

Carefully, he rose from his seat, stretching his arms above his head before turning back toward the deeper recesses of the ruined city. There was more to explore, more mysteries hidden in the simulated stone and moss-covered walls. He wasn’t finished yet—not even close.

 

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