The Weight of Memory
Posted on Fri Jun 5th, 2026 @ 1:55pm by Lieutenant Commander Nathan Lake
Edited on on Tue Jun 9th, 2026 @ 5:58pm
953 words; about a 5 minute read
Mission:
Prologue: Taking On Crew
Location: Enroute to USS Resolute
Timeline: MD002 - 0800 hours
The forest was still.
A soft wind drifted through towering crimson trees, stirring their scarlet leaves across the forest floor. Birds called somewhere in the distance. The world felt alive, peaceful even.
Yet something about it was wrong.
Nathan Lake stood alone beneath the red canopy, wearing an aging Starfleet environmental suit. The name stitched across the chest remained visible. Remained familiar.
LT. COMMANDER NATHAN LAKE, M.D.
Everything else had faded with time.
The suit. The insignia. The ship assignment. As though it had existed for centuries.
Nathan looked around the forest. He didn’t know where he was. He never did. But then, a chill crawled up his spine, and he heard it.
It was a distant scream. Nathan’s head snapped upward. A streak of fire tore across the heavens.
“No…”
The word escaped before he realized he’d spoken.
The shuttle burst through the clouds, trailing smoke and flame. Hull plating peeled away from the fuselage as it fought a losing battle against gravity. It was falling and beginning to break apart.
Nathan’s heart stopped. He knew that shuttle. Every line of its hull. Every scar on its frame.
And he knew who was inside.
Emily.
Sarah.
His wife and daughter.
“No!” He broke into a run.
The forest exploded around him as he sprinted through the trees. Branches lashed across his suit. Red leaves swirled in his wake. Overhead, the shuttle screamed across the sky. Losing altitude. Falling faster, but Nathan pushed harder. His lungs burned. His legs ached.
Burning debris rained through the forest’s canopy. Chunks of glowing metal slammed into the surface. The debris showered sparks across the crimson leaves. Above, the shuttle rolled violently. One engine flared. Then exploded.
The nacelle tore free in flames. Nathan felt his stomach drop.
“No, no, no…”
The shuttle pitched forward. Nose-first. It was out of control. He began to run harder. There had to be something he could do. He was a doctor. A scientist. An officer. Surely there was something Anything he could do.
The shuttle vanished beyond a distant ridge. Nathan stumbled over exposed roots, nearly falling as he raced after it. The sky glowed brighter ahead. The roar grew louder. Then came the flash. It was blinding and absolute.
The explosion struck a second later. The ground shook violently beneath him. A wall of heat slammed into his body.
Nathan stopped. Frozen. A fireball rose above the ridge line. The forest became silent once more. Only the distant crackling of burning wreckage remained. He had failed. Again.
Suddenly, Nathan’s eyes snapped open. His chest heaved as he dragged air into his lungs. For several seconds, he remained motionless.
The dream faded slowly. The forest disappeared. The fire vanished. The silence gave way to a familiar hum, making him feel the real.
Warp engines. Environmental systems. The gentle vibration of a shuttle in flight. Reality returned. It was all real.
Nathan rubbed a hand across his face and stared out the viewport beside him. Stars drifted silently through the darkness.
Three years. Three years since the accident. Three years of dreams he could never stop.
Sometimes they came every night. Sometimes weeks passed without them. But they always returned.
Part of him welcomed them. Part of him hated them. But because for a few moments he could be with Emily and Sarah again, the torture was worth it even if he always lost them.
Nathan glanced down at the half-finished recommendation letter displayed on the dataPADD resting in his lap. An old academy friend is attempting to get into Starfleet Medical. He had been working on it before falling asleep. The cursor blinked patiently. Waiting. Nathan closed the document. He’d get back to it later in the day.
The passenger compartment remained quiet. Most travelers were asleep. Others did things that passed the time. Nathan had already done that. Twice. Now, he watched the stars.
His reflection stared back at him from the glass. Thirty-seven years old. Dark brown hair. Hazel-green eyes that have some experience and pain to share. It was a face that looked slightly older than it should.
Years aboard the Red Cross and the Event Horizon had taught him things that Starfleet Medical could never. There wasn’t always enough.
Not enough doctors. Not enough supplies.
Not enough training. Not enough time.
Not enough miracles.
Sometimes all you could do was bear witness.
Nathan reached into the satchel beside his seat and removed an old medical text. It was his mother's. The cover was worn smooth by decades of handling. His fingers brushed it automatically. It was a familiar ritual. It was a familiar comfort.
The silence broke as a soft chime echoed through the compartment. The shuttle pilot’s voice followed.
“Attention passengers. We have arrived at our destination.”
Nathan looked up and out of the viewport. For a moment, there was nothing beyond the viewport except stars. Then a shape emerged from the darkness. It was just faintly beyond his point of view, just beyond the periphery. But then, there it was. Large. Elegant. Powerful.
The USS Resolute.
Nathan studied the vessel silently as the shuttle altered course toward her. The ship was Sovereign class. They have been around for a while, but it would be the first time he would set foot on one. He was accepted as its new Chief Medical Officer.
The dream already felt distant now. Packed away where it belonged. But not forgotten, never forgotten, and just carried like everything else.
Nathan straightened in his seat and continued watching as the shuttle approached the Resolute’s port bow.
A Post By:
Lt. Commander Nathan Lake
Chief Medical Officer
USS Resolute
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