Basil the Brave

Posted on Mon Dec 1st, 2025 @ 5:58pm by Cadet Freshman Grade Miran Lalor [Lalor] HRH & Tristi Richardson

Mission: Season 6: Episode 6: Conglomerate
Location: Main Medical
Timeline: MD4 11h00
574 words - 1.1 OF Standard Post Measure

When Tristi slipped back into Sickbay the next afternoon, the air felt different.
Less like recovery. More like *living again.*

Miran was sitting up this time, hair tied back, one shoulder still wrapped in a regenerator patch but color finally returning to her cheeks. On the table beside her bed sat the small pot Tristi had brought — and, to Tristi’s surprise, a hand-written label stuck into the soil.

Tristi stopped at the foot of the bed. “You *named* it?”

Miran grinned, sheepish but proud. “Couldn’t help it. Figured it deserved an identity. Meet **Basil the Brave.**”

Tristi blinked, then snorted. “You named an air-purifier plant after an herb.”

“Basil’s a survivor,” Miran said, gesturing at the tiny green sprout. “Got through half a deck breach and a pot that looked like it had been welded shut. Kind of like someone I know.”

“Hey!” Tristi protested, though her grin gave her away. “At least I don’t need constant UV light to function.”

“Debatable,” Miran teased.

Tristi laughed, setting a small paper bag on the table. “Well, in honor of Basil’s bravery — edible bricks, as promised.”

Miran eyed the cookies suspiciously, then picked one up and took a careful bite. “Still better than replicator versions,” she said after a moment. “Don’t quit your day job, though.”

Tristi plopped onto the edge of the bed, pretending to be offended. “Wow. Critique *and* sarcasm. You must be feeling better.”

“Yeah,” Miran said softly, her humor fading into something gentler. “I think I am.”

Tristi looked at her, then at the little plant. “Good. You deserve to be.”

The two sat there in easy silence — the beeping of nearby monitors steady, the air faintly smelling of antiseptic and cocoa. The plant between them leaned toward the light, green and stubborn, growing in spite of everything.

===

Personal Log – Miran Lalor

Time Index: 2398.05.04 – 2100 hours
Recording: Private

I wasn’t expecting company today.

Tristi showed up again. She didn’t even knock properly — just sort of appeared, like she does. I think she was pretending she came to check on the plant, but really… she was checking on me.

I didn’t realise how much I’d missed that — someone my age who gets it. We both went through the attack in different ways, but the same kind of quiet damage sticks after something like that. The kind you can’t fix with dermal re-generators or a counselling schedule.

She brought cookies. Hard as rocks, but I ate one anyway. Told her they were fine. They weren’t. But that wasn’t the point. It was the first time I laughed in days, and that was worth choking on crumbs for.

The plant’s doing fine too. I named it Basil the Brave. It’s stupid, but it made her laugh — and for a second, it felt like things were okay again. Like the ship wasn’t still haunted by the echoes of alarms and shouting.

I think Phoenix and Mattias knew what they were doing when they brought her into the family. She’s rough around the edges, but she’s real. She doesn’t pretend she’s okay, and somehow that makes it easier for the rest of us to start being honest too.

Maybe that’s what healing looks like out here — two girls in Sickbay, talking to a potted plant and pretending it’s brave enough for both of them.

End log.