//------------------------------// // Season 2 Mini-Episode 02: "Always the Last to Know" // Story: Star Trek: Phoenix // by Dewdrops on the Grass //------------------------------// STAR TREK: PHOENIX S02ME02 “Always the Last to Know” The memorial service brought it all back. Standing there, listening to Captain Picard and his command crew give their speeches, even Twilight and the rest of her family… it brought every last mixed emotion back to the forefront. From the love she once thought she felt, to the anger and hurt when that love turned out to be a mirage, the sorrow when she heard she was gone… But Alma wouldn’t cry. Not here, not in front of the crowd. She’d had a month to process these feelings. She’d been on the Farragut when it responded to the Enterprise’s distress call. She’d seen the Enterprise-D saucer section barely able to maintain a safe orbit above Veridian III and looking every bit like a wrecked farm truck on the side of a dirt road. Her hull was marred and cracked all over from countless disruptor blasts, and half her internal systems were broken beyond repair. She’d read the battle reports, scanned all the casualty lists… and the sole report to come from the stardrive section. Sunset Shimmer. That damned mare that entered her life at the Academy, befriended her then strung her along for a year before finally admitting all she wanted was to be friends with benefits… Alma found her fists clenching hard enough to pull at the lab-induced scabs on her knuckles as the fury bubbled up inside, only to release them when the cold hard facts of reality washed over her. Sunset was dead. She’d died saving the Enterprise from a warp core breach. She was gone, and no amount of anger or fury at her mattered anymore. So when the service finished, Alma turned to leave, only to be frozen in place by a voice calling out, “Lieutenant Smith?” She fidgeted and turned, giving the mare before her a strained smile. “Oh, um, howdy,” she said. “Ah didn’t realize you recognized me.” Twilight Sparkle gave her a matching smile, more of a grimace really, that didn’t come close to touching those oversized eyes of hers. “Sunset told me a lot about you while you and her were together,” she said. ‘Course she did. I’ll bet she was braggin’ too. “Oh she did, huh?” Alma let out a wry chuckle. Her granny’s voice rang through her head. Can’t say nothin’ bad to her kin. Gotta be nice to her. “Ah guess she would. She talked about you all the time too, you know. She was real proud of you. Always had somethin’ good to say.” Please leave me alone now. “...thanks.” “Sure.” Alma twitched as she waited for the mare to say more. When nothing else was forthcoming, she turned and said “Ah, Ah should probably get goin–” “It would’ve made her very happy to know you were here, at the ceremony. She considered you a very good friend, even after what happened.” “What?” Alma breathed as she gaped at Twilight. Moisture wetted her cheeks. One fist squeezed so hard at her side the knuckles burst open. I… I… She turned tail and fled as fast as she could without outright running, and didn’t stop until she found her old quarters. The place was half demolished and a mess, the bed coated with dust, but she didn’t care. She fell upon it anyway, and only then did she allow the tears to pour out. “Damn it,” she whispered. “Damn you, Sunset Shimmer. Why’d you have to… why didn’t you…” She slumped into the bed, her tears spent. “Ah miss you, Sunset. Ah really do. Ah still wish… you’d stayed with me…Ah still had so much Ah wanted to say to you...” The high-pitched whistle of a door chime startled Alma into almost falling off the bed. “What in tarnation? Who…” The doors slid open, revealing a Starfleet Commander wearing a dress uniform. Smith immediately sprung off the bed and stood at attention, and it was only after she did so that she recognized who the Commander was. “Commander Riviera?” Commander Amina Riviera gave Alma a solemn nod. Her face was haggard and drawn, the stains of tears decorating her cheeks. “I’m sorry to bother you, Lieutenant,” she said, her voice shaking. “I asked the ship’s computer where you were. I was hoping to speak with you before you returned to the Farragut.” “Yes ma’am,” Alma replied in a clipped tone. Inwardly she wished she’d had a chance to clean up her face and uniform. “What can Ah do for you?” Riviera approached her and held out a hand. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to drop the ranks for now. Call me Amina. I just want to be a mother talking to someone who knew my daughter well.” Fear trickled down Alma’s spine at those words. Right. ‘Cause that’s much more friendly. She hesitantly reached out to take Riviera’s hand. “R-right. Ah can do that… Amina.” Riviera gave her hand a gentle squeeze, then let it drop. “Thank you, Alma.” She glanced around the room, taking in the sights. “What a mess this ship is. It’s amazing it’s still in one piece.” “Ah hear that,” Alma agreed. She glared at the most obnoxious piece of debris, a large beam of duranium that had collapsed from the ceiling and divided the room in half. “Kept everyone alive though.” Riviera pressed her lips together and sighed. “It did. Sunset… She saved all their lives. I’m so proud of her.” “Um, Amina, ma’am, a-as much as Ah’m sure you are,” Alma said, feeling more and more uncomfortable by the second, “Ah think we both heard enough of that in the ceremony.” Alma braced for what she was sure would be an admonishment for what she just said, but to her surprise Riviera let out a quiet laugh. “True enough, I suppose.” “Beggin’ your pardon, Amina, what did you really want to talk to me about?” “Yes, well… I suppose I’ve been stalling long enough.” Riviera folded her hands across her chest. “I wanted to ask you about what Sunset was like, on the Enterprise. We only heard from her every so often when she’d send us video messages or communiques. You were closer to her than any of us during that time. And T’Lona and I never had a chance to meet you before, well…” “Before she and Ah broke up?” Alma grunted. A scowl overtook her face as the memory of that fury once again rolled through her mind. “To be honest Ah’m not sure there’s much Ah can tell you that you don’t already know. She weren’t a bad person, and even Ah’d never say she meant to anythin’ but the best for everyone on the ship. But sometimes Sunset was downright stupid in how oblivious she could be. She could read a schematic with one eye closed but couldn’t understand anyone else’s feelings if they clobbered her upside the head.” “That sounds like Sunset,” Riviera chuckled. “Smart but blind as a bat sometimes. You know I was very upset with her when I heard what she did to you. That wasn’t how we raised our daughter.” Alma cringed. The last thing she wanted was to hear Sunset’s parents apologizing for the mare’s actions posthumously. “Ah appreciate that, but you don’t need to apologize. Ain’t like it matters much now anyway,” she said. “But if it helps, Ah was gonna forgive her eventually. I just kept putin’ it off...” “You were?” Riviera’s eyes sparkled with what looked to Alma like a bizarre amount of hope. Alma sighed and nodded. “Ah was. Ah mean, Ah’m still angry, but… Ah know she didn’t mean to hurt me. She and Ah kept messaging each other after Ah left the Enterprise and Ah had an apology message all ready to go… till we heard the distress call.” Riviera inhaled sharply, fresh tears brimming at the sides of her eyes. “So she never saw it,” she breathed. Alma shook her head. Her heart sank as she let out the next few bitter words. “No. She didn’t.” “Oh…” Riviera reached out with her arms, and despite herself, the emotions of the moment compelled Alma to close the distance and allow the older woman to embrace her. “I wish she had, Alma,” Riviera whispered as she stroked Alma’s head, just like a mother fussing over a daughter. Or in this case, the daughter she’d lost. “She deserved to hear it, before she…” “Yeah.” Alma allowed Riviera to hold her for a few minutes before her sense of propriety and the trickle of uncomfortableness with the situation compelled her to pull away. “Uh, listen, Ah need to get back to the Farragut. Tight schedules and all, you know. But it was nice talking with you.” Riviera nodded once. “Right, of course. And I need to track down where Twilight went. Thank you Alma. For everything.” As she left the quarters she tapped her combadge, and Smith could hear an echo of “Riviera to Sparkle,” before the doors swished shut. In retrospect, Alma decided as she clung to the handlebars and belt buckles strapping her into the escape pod seat, she really should have accepted that offer of a position on Ivor Prime when she had the chance. Alarms blared and smoke filled the air as others from the science division stumbled into the escape pod one at a time, a gaggle of ensigns and lieutenant junior grades. “All hands abandon ship!” The voice of the Captain blared on repeat, yet even that was hard to hear over the deafening sounds of the Farragut’s death throes. Everything seemed to rock violently at once as another disruptor blast hit the now helpless ship.. “Oh god, oh god, oh god,” murmured one ensign, some young pale-faced thing right out of the Academy that worked under Alma. She gripped her head in her hands as she doubled over as far as the escape pod seat would allow her. “I don’t want to die!” “Keep it calm now, Turner,” Alma said as two more people piled into the pod. “We ain’t gonna die.” “B-but the Klingons!” Turner shrieked as she looked up at Alma with terror-stricken eyes. “T-they’re gonna blow us out of the sky as soon as we separate!” As the last officer entered the pod, Alma summoned up her courage and answered, “And if they do there ain’t gonna be nothin’ we can do about it. We gotta stay cool and keep our heads focused, alright?” Turner grimaced and nodded. “Y-yes, ma’am. Sorry ma’am.” Alma nodded in acknowledgement. “Alright y’all, let’s get this show on the road.” She reached out to the single console positioned in reach and tapped the launch button. The whole pod shook like a snowglobe in the hands of an excited child as the hatch slammed shut and it soared away from the Farragut. As Alma watched out the window, she saw the starship she’d come to know over the last couple of years crumble to pieces from disruptor and torpedo assaults from several Klingon ships until finally, the poor thing gave up the ghost and exploded in a massive flash of light that left several of her fellow officers screaming from the brightness. Gritting her teeth, Alma engaged the pod’s autopilot, which, like all escape pods, was preprogrammed to head for the nearest habitable object that it could land on. The Farragut had been in the Lembatta Cluster, so there was a good chance of some sort of planet being nearby. And then her heart sank as she saw one of the Klingon Bird of Preys moving in their direction, easily overtaking the pitiful impulse engine aboard the escape pod. “Aw hell,” she murmured as it grew closer and closer. Alma looked down at the console to switch off the autopilot, but she already knew there was absolutely no chance they could outrun or evade the Klingons. So she went for the only other option she had left. She tapped the pod’s solitary transmit button and yelled, “We surrender! We ain’t no threat to you anymore.” For a moment, Alma’s heart stopped as she saw what looked like the disruptor ports of the Bird of Prey glowing, preparing to fire. She let out a bitter laugh as she closed her eyes. “Guess Ah’m comin’ to see you, Sunset,” she whispered. But after several moments with no fiery cataclysm or tunnel of light or anything else similar, Alma opened her eyes again, only to gasp in shock as she saw the Bird of Prey move off. A pair of Klingon words echoed in the comm system as it vanished to warp. “bIHnuch p’tahk!” Then whoops of jubilation filled the small pod as Alma leaned back and let out a sigh of relief. “See?” she said with a grin. “Ah told you we’d make it, Turner.” Turner openly cried as she reached out to snag Alma’s hand. “Yes you did, ma’am,” she blubbered. “But what do we do now?” asked one of the other officers. “Now we sit and wait for rescue,” Alma declared. She took a look at the sensors. “Looks like the pod’s plotted a course to an asteroid a few hours from here. We’re gonna set down there.” “Um, ma’am, if we’re on an asteroid,” said a third officer, this one a male human with dark brown skin, another ensign just as fresh out of the Academy as Turner, “what’re we going to do for shelter? It’s really cramped in here.” Alma briefly glared at the ensign before sighing. “Y’all trained on this stuff, didn’t you? The escape pod’s got an expandable shelter module we can put up, enough to give us plenty of room. And we’ve got supplies for a good couple of weeks, even with six of us. We’ll be fine. Bored outta our skulls, but fine.” “Yes ma’am,” said the male ensign. True to Alma’s word, rescue arrived less than a week later in the form of the Akira-class U.S.S. Stirling. She and her fellow Farragut survivors stank to high heaven and were sick to death of field rations, but she was alive. Thankfully, the Stirling’s security chief let them all get some rest, some real food, and a hot shower before grilling them on what happened. The delicious meal she’d just eaten nearly came right back up her throat when she heard that hers was one of only four escape pods to leave the Farragut in time. Twenty-four total survivors, and not a single member of the senior staff among them. Alma felt a pang of loss for many of the people she’d gotten to know. She wasn’t very close to any of them, but you don’t lose a community of seven hundred and fifty people without feeling it deeply. The Stirling dropped her and her fellow survivors off at Starbase 375, where she’d be positioned temporarily while Starfleet figured out what to do with her. Alma had half a mind to take a couple of weeks of leave and visit her brother on Ivor Prime regardless of what Starfleet said, but she knew better than to do that. Better to sit tight and hope for a good position… preferably somewhere she wouldn’t be shot at. To Alma’s surprise she hadn’t been at the base for more than a day before someone reached out to her on a live vid comm all the way from Earth. Even more startling was the face that showed up on screen when she answered. “Twilight?” she gasped. “Lieutenant Smith!” Twilight said, giving her a brief smile before it fell off her face, replaced with an almost cold frown that sent shivers down Alma’s spine. “I heard about the Farragut. I’m glad to hear you’re okay.” “Thanks. Not that Ah don’t appreciate your call, Twi,” Alma said as she slowly rolled her right shoulder to work out a kink, “but we haven’t spoken since your sister’s memorial service. So why–” “Mom asked me to,” Twilight cut her off. “She wanted to make sure you were alright, and she didn’t have a chance to message you herself.” “Huh, Ah guess that makes sense,” Alma said with a shrug. Commander Riviera had kept up correspondance with her, after a fashion, apparently deciding that as a connection to Sunset she should keep up with Alma. “Well Ah’m fine, more or less… Ah miss many of the friends Ah lost though.” “I can imagine,” Twilight said, though the cold, almost frozen look on her face suggested otherwise. “Do you know where Starfleet’s going to send you?” “Not yet.” Alma shifted in her chair and straightened her uniform. “Ah’m hopin’ for somethin’ dirtside though. Maybe on Terra Nova, or some other big colony.” “I see.” Twilight’s ears twitched as she continued to gaze at Alma in a way that left Alma more than a little unsettled. “Well, I hope you get the position you want.” Alma, eager for a subject change, said, “Hey, how’ve you been, anywho? Ah know it hasn’t been easy since Sunset died. You been keepin’ busy? Gettin’ by?” Twilight didn’t respond for several moments, long enough that Alma wondered if the signal had been frozen or lost. “I’m fine,” Twilight finally said, her voice rigid. “I’m… I’m fine, okay? I don’t want to talk about that.” “Okay, Ah hear you, sorry.” Alma held up her hands for peace. “Alright, well, Ah’m guessin’ you must be busy. Pass along mah best to your mom, and you take care, alright?” “...sure.” Then the screen blacked out, replaced by the standard Federation “signal terminated” screen. “Great.” Alma flopped backwards in her chair and sighed. “She ain’t doin’ well at all. Ah hope you start gettin’ better sooner, Twilight.” Alma stayed on Starbase 375 for about a month before she was granted a transfer to a science lab complex on Archer IV, one of the Federation’s oldest and most prosperous colonies. As she typed away studiously at a report she was working on, she smiled at a nearby screen, where her brother Max beamed at her. “Ah gotta say, Max, Ah don’t hear from you nearly often enough,” Alma said. “Ah’m glad they finally got the beacons in place for live transmissions. Ivor Prime’s way out in the sticks even for the Federation.” “Yup, well, we’re always busy out here,” Max said. He stood tall, taller than Alma by half a meter, with great big muscles bulging under his Starfleet uniform. A shock of blonde hair topped his head. Not for the first time, Alma mused that her brother would be a total lady killer if he could stop being shy around anyone save family. “We’ve got a new harvest comin’ in. Finally got the apple trees ready for the first pickin.” “Ooh, Ah’ll bet those’ll be nice after years of those replicated knockoffs,” Alma said. She turned her attention to her report for a moment to finish up a paragraph, then continued, “You heard from Floryn? She’s been pretty busy Ah bet.” “Yup. Daystrom Institute. Ah’m proud of her,” Max said. He bent out of frame for a moment to pick up a sack of grain and placed it to the side. “She’s smarter than either of us, that’s for sure. Ah wouldn’t be surprised if she single-handedly creates a whole new generation of computer hardware.” “Wouldn’t surprise me in the least with that one,” Alma replied. She turned back to her report and typed another couple of paragraphs. When she turned back she saw Max had taken the small communicator outside into the bright sunlight and blue skies, and was pointing it at a set of trees. “Oh my stars, those trees are lookin’ good.” The communicator turned back around to show Max’s grinning face. “They sure are.” Alma pushed her report aside for a moment as a thought occurred to her. A mischievous glint sparkled in her eyes. “So Max, got another question for ya. Ah heard you’ve had your eye on someone there for a while now. What’s her name again? Belle somethin’?” “Sharlene,” Max said, his eyes fluttering for a moment. “Her name’s Sharlene. She’s a teacher.” “Ahaha, Ah’ll bet,” Alma said. She pushed her fist towards the screen as if to nudge him in the shoulder before remembering he was several light years away. “Well, Ah’m glad to hear… what… Max, what’s that?” Max frowned as the sky all around him suddenly darkened considerably. He spun around, pointing the communicator up away from him towards the colony itself. Alma caught a flash of prefab buildings and a few more homely structures, all cast in shadow from something that must’ve been floating not too far above. A great big humming noise filled the air, one that sent Alma’s skin crawling. “Ah don’t know.” “...Max, Ah think you’d better sound the alarm and get inside,” Alma gulped. “Ah don’t know what that is, but…” “Yup, on it,” Max muttered as he started running for the nearest building. The bouncing visuals left Alma’s stomach churning a bit before he suddenly stopped and screamed, “Oh mah god!” “What?” Alma cried. “What is it?!” “Look!” The communicator pointed up, far up, enough to bring a ship into view. Alma’s blood ran ice cold. Every fiber of her being frozen in sheer, paralyzing terror. That murkey black hull, that sickly green glow. It meant one thing and one thing only. “Max!” Alma shrieked, both hands gripping her screen. “Get out of there! Get out of there now!” Before Max could respond, a blinding wave of green energy filled the skies above the colony. Then the screen went dark. “Maaaaaax!” Alma screamed. “No! No!” She picked up her screen and threw it on the floor hard enough to shatter it, then hopped to her feet and ran headlong out the door towards City Hall. She burst through the front doors shoulder first, nearly bowling over a civilian who was just on the other side of the doors. She skidded to a halt inches from crashing over the top of the reception desk and taking out the civilian staffer. “Lieutenant Smith?” he gasped. “W-what’s the meaning of this?” “It’s an emergency! Get the mayor! Get whoever, Ah don’t care! We gotta call Starfleet right away!” Alma said, gasping for air. “We… we gotta get them ready!” “Ready for what?” She looked up at the civilian with fear and grief blazing in her eyes. “The Borg.” Alma was ecstatic when she heard the Enterprise-E had destroyed the Borg Cube. But that wouldn’t bring back the other ships it destroyed along the way. Or the Ivor Prime colony. Or her brother. She hoped like hell that green energy wave had killed him instantly, that he hadn’t been assimilated and perverted into one of… into one of them. The Borg. Monsters, all of them as far as Alma was concerned. She’d taken a leave of absence and spent time with Floryn and their granny in Texas. Floryn was heartbroken, and it took everything Alma had to convince her little sister not to give up on the Daystrom Institute because of this. “He was proud of you, sis. He’d want you to stay.” But it was her granny she was more worried about. Her grandmother had already had to bury Alma’s parents, and now losing a grandchild too, before her own time? Yet to Alma’s shock her granny took it all in stride. “Jest part of life, Alma,” she said, holding Alma’s hand with her own wrinkled, age-spotted one. Despite her age her grip was still strong enough to hurt. “He’s lookin’ down on us from above now.” Alma had joined her granny in silent prayer after that. Like the rest of her family, Alma kept up a religious belief that many of her fellow officers would say was out of place in the twenty-fourth century. Alma didn’t care though. She preferred to think that Max was indeed watching down on her, just like she’d thought Sunset had been watching her and Twilight. By the time Alma returned to Archer IV and resumed her post, life had resumed something resembling normal. She continued her research, kept up on her duties. She sent a congratulatory message to Twilight when she heard Twilight had graduated from the Academy, and another one when she heard Twilight had been given her first post aboard a ship called the Phoenix. Apart from that she kept mostly to herself. So when she received a video message sent to her from the Phoenix, from Twilight, she found herself looking forward to watching it, in appreciation. When she turned it on, she was met by a visual of Twilight sitting at a desk in Starfleet blues, her ensign’s pip gleaming on her collar. “Hello, Lieutenant Smith,” Twilight said. Unlike the last time, Twilight didn’t appear cold or distant. Rather she was furious, her face twisted up in rage in a way that caused Alma to gape. “I hope you don’t mind my reaching out, but I thought you should know about something. Because it turns out you hadn’t heard yet. And of course you hadn’t. Why would you? She’s been a massive jerk to me. Why wouldn’t she treat you the same?” “What in tarnation are you on about, Twilight?” Alma whispered. Twilight hopped out of her chair, the camera following her as she talked. “I really shouldn’t be surprised, you know. She’s so inconsiderate. She doesn’t care about other people’s feelings anymore. The only thing she throws around more than those damn wings is her authority. She doesn’t deserve to be the first officer of this ship.” “Wings? Huh?” Alma shook her head, completely baffled. She knew it was only a recording, but she asked the Twilight on the screen anyway. “Who are you talkin’ about?” As if on cue, Twilight continued ranting, “And to think, she actually had the audacity to say she was trying to help me! She’s such a… such a… such an idiot! Can’t she see what she’s doing? How damn blind is she?!” Twilight let out a wordless groan and flung herself into her chair. “You know, I was originally going to record this because I hoped we could commiserate a bit, since we’ve both been mistreated so badly. But I can’t even do that because you still don’t know! I can’t believe she didn’t bother to at least send you something!” A suspicion grew in Alma’s chest, one deeply worrying. “Ah… do you mean…” Twilight faced the screen again and got right up in the camera till all Alma could see was her face. “That’s right, Lieutenant. My sister is alive. Sunset Shimmer is alive! And I wish like hell she wasn’t!” As the screen blinked out, Alma sat back, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. “Wha… how… huh?!” She didn’t know what to think. One part of her heart soared anew, like she’d found something she didn’t know she still cared for. Another filled up with a fury hotter than a plasma fire, over the fact that Sunset hadn’t bothered to reach out to her at all. But most of all she was confused. Completely, utterly confused. It took her a couple of days and a lot of research before she was finally able to compose a response, having needed that long to sort things out. She decided she’d send two messages. First to Twilight, whom she had some choice words for. “Hey Twilight. Ah appreciate you takin’ the time to let me know about Sunset.” Alma bit her lip as she said that name, but she forced herself to continue. “Ah’ve been lookin’ into things, since you sent me that message. Seems like you two ain’t gettin’ along so well. Listen, Ah…” Alma paused the recording as she gripped her fists, her palms sweaty. “Damn it,” she whispered. “Come on, Alma. Shake it off, girl.” She tapped the unpause button. “Ah know you know that Ah lost mah brother Max a good seven or eight months ago. Ah’m still hurtin’, right in here.” She tapped her chest. “Ah’ve got a pretty good feelin’ what you must’ve gone through, ‘cause Ah’m still goin’ through it. But you know what? Ah’d give ten years of my life to get him back. Hell, Ah’d give thirty. Maybe even fifty. But you know what Ah wouldn’t be doin’?” Inching closer to the camera, she narrowed her eyes in a fierce glare. “Ah wouldn’t be mouthin’ off every chance Ah got. Ah wouldn’t be screamin’ and hollerin’ over mah big brother comin’ back again. Ah’d be ecstatic. Ah’d be happy, damn it. Ah sure as shootin’ wouldn’t be pushin’ him away and actin’ like he’s the worst thing in my life!” She leaned back in her chair and set her hands on her table. “Look, Ah’m sure it ain’t that much of my business to tell you what to do with your sister. But from one person who's lost a sibling to another? This is a blessing. This is a miracle. Ah’d be down on my knees thankin’ God and whoever else Ah got my brother back. Maybe you oughta consider bein’ a bit more grateful, s’all Ah’m sayin’.” Pushing off the table, she stood up and paced the room for a moment before returning to the camera. “And hey, Twilight? Ah’m thinkin’ maybe you and Ah should start writin’ each other more often. Seems to me like we could both use a good friend to talk to. If you’re interested, Ah’m always willin’ to listen. Take care.” The second… Alma found her hands clenching hard as she sat down for the next. An angry smile took over her face as she began to speak. “Hi, Sunset. It’s Alma Smith. Remember me? The girl you dated for a year? Ah hear you’re alive after all. Funny how Ah didn’t hear that from you.” She stretched her lips to show off her teeth as a laugh born of rage bubbled up inside her chest. “Ah can’t believe it took your sister finally messagin’ me for me to find out. Not even your Mom told me. Ah was wonderin’ why she stopped writin’ me a few months ago. Now Ah know.” Alma brought up her right fist and punched it into her left palm. “Ah ain’t happy to find out this way, Sunset. Ah thought you cared. Ah thought we were friends. You’d better have a damned good reason for why you didn’t reach out to me. You know mah brother Max died a while back? Ah got condolences from everyone in your family ‘cept you.” She raised a finger and jabbed it at the camera. “You idiot. You’ve had months to contact me. You can’t seriously tell me your duties on the Phoenix had you so damn busy that you couldn’t find time to even tell me you were alive?” She slammed her fist down onto the table hard enough to knock her PADDs onto the floor. “Ah’ll be waitin’ for your reply, Sunset. And it better be good. Or so help me God Ah’ll never hear another word you have to say to me. Ever!” Alma, still scowling, cut off the message and sent it before she could think better of its contents. She hadn’t meant to let her temper get out of control there, but Sunset deserved it, as far as she was concerned. As she sat there, her anger burning away and fizzling out like campfire coals drenched in a morning rainstorm, Alma flopped down onto her sofa and cried angry, bitter tears. Just like she had when Sunset broke up with her. Or when she heard the news Sunset had died. Just like all those times before, Sunset had left her alone. Angry, confused, and alone.