When Push Comes to Shove

Posted on 26 Jan 2026 @ 7:36pm by Lieutenant Commander Riah Amberlyn XMD

714 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: Lathira Shoreleave
Location: Cabin on lakeshore on Lathira IV
Timeline: Shore leave on Lathira

// Cabin in the Woods :: Lathira IV //

The letter to Crystal McLaughlin lay on the table, handwritten in a blue pen. Of course, Riah would have to transcribe it into the computer to send it, but she felt sure that hand writing it would elicit a whole different approach than typing it directly to the computer. She had even thought, at the beginning of the letter, to send it as an image, but as the letter had progressed, her handwriting had deteriorated considerably as she wrote faster, to get the ideas down.

She had started casually, acknowledging Crystal’s letter and including a degree of gratitude that the girl had gone to considerable lengths to find her biological mother. That gratitude was clouded, though. Crystal’s letter was not overly welcome and Riah would have been just as happy to have lived the rest of her life without having to deal with these old feelings, and all the conflict that it brought into her current life. The challenge was to be honest, without being hurtful, with someone she did not know at all, but would never want to hurt.

A few sentences described her ship and the busy life she lived as the CMO, but not too much. She wasn’t sure how much vulnerability, or what unsolicited information she should offer to the girl. Was Crystal’s letter a middle-teen phase she was going through? Would she still want to hear from Riah after the couple months it had been since she’d sent the letter, expecting a prompt reply. Instinct or obligation coxed her to give some explanation for the tardiness of that reply, but the words just wouldn’t come together and so with bold strokes, Riah scratched out the three lines of bullshit she had written down on the matter and just moved on to the next paragraph.

Finally, she signed her name without a farewell of any kind. No “sincerely yours” or “yours truly” at the end. Just Riah. Just her first name. Somehow that seemed to say more than a lot of words. How that would translate on a subspace transmission was uncertain, but the intention on the handwritten note would have to be enough. She wondered if she would receive any letter back from the girl.

Riah pushed the chair back from the table, distancing herself from the piece of furniture more effectively than from the feelings in her stomach, in her heart. She recalled that baby laying on her stomach, the continued contractions, and the emptiness left on her coolness on her skin when they had taken the infant away. Shrugging her shoulders several times, she stood and walked to the front door, which stood open, inviting her to leave the letter behind. Obligingly, she stepped into her shoes and walked out onto the porch. She realized she had been both hot and cold in the writing of that letter. Now, with a slight breeze over damp skin, she shuddered with a chill. ”A rabbit ran over my grave,” her mother used to say when that happened. That seemed particularly grim today and she shoved that emotion away with the others she was trying to leave at the table in the cabin.

There was a hammock slung between two trees on the side of the building. She walked over and absentmindedly rocked it a few times, judging its stability and suitability for a few minutes of staring up into the forest canopy. As it came once more to stillness, she turned and walked instead to the small dock at the edge of the lake. Tired to it was a wooden canoe, with beautiful carved and painted designs from the bow, along the sides to the stern. An equally decorative paddle lay on the dock. Another invitation. First the table and the paper, then the doorway, then the hammock, now the surface of the lake. She sat down on the dock, hanging her feet over the edge. They just reached the side of the canoe. She could easily have pulled it over and climbed aboard. Instead, she used her toe to just give it a little push and the stern gently rocked away, out of her reach.

~~~
LtCmdr Riah Amberlyn, XMD
Chief Medical Officer
USS Arawyn

 

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