Lastland AU: Lost Memory, Lost Time, Lost in Space

Wishing Star

The observation deck of Notus buzzed with excitement as the crew gathered for another Stardance Celebration. These were interstellar phenomena that occurred at random, making them all the more magical when they happened. As the starships sailed through space, sometimes it hit patches of meteors. They were tiny enough that they caused no damage, but they created a breathtaking visual, like running in a field of fireflies. A few Rangers were surprised to see Strike there, but as she would say, she was still a human who liked human things, outcast though she was.

They forgot where I come from. Earth, just like them. Humanity, just like them. Hopes and dreams... I loved the stars too... That's why I became a Ranger in the first place. Strike would take responsibility for her part in her downfall, but it didn't happen in a vacuum. Had the coup of Boreas never happened, maybe she never would've left them and changed her name. Now she was at Notus watching "stars" dance around her.

Part of the celebration involved wishing on the meteors. It was cheesy. It was cliché. It was born of the old wishing star rhyme that made every Ranger since its debut feel compelled to wish on every star that seemed even slightly special to them. Flying through a field of tiny meteors certainly qualified as special, and there were more than enough meteors to wish on.

The entire crew looked up, almost everyone completely silently, wishing for something. Young or old, new or not, skeptical or faithful, content or desperate, cynical or optimistic, everyone found it within themselves to participate eventually. Rumor also had it that trying to guess the number of stars helped the wishes come true, and the closer a wisher was to the correct answer, the more likely it was their wish would come true.

There was no way to verify the claim, of course, but it was a rumor that persisted, nonetheless. No matter how much of a superstition it was, all the crew ran calculations in their heads, trying to estimate the number of meteors they were flying through and dancing with. The number was, pun intended, astronomical. Irie smiled, but when she looked over at Strike again, the taller, older woman looked pained.

"Strike, are you okay?" Irie asked, her concern evident in her bright, purple eyes. Strike hesitated before responding.

"To answer... would be to... throw away... my wish..." She felt like an idiot for saying it—she didn't even believe in such childish things like wishing stars—and yet, ever since her dip in the Aletheia, more and more questions that were once buried so deeply even her subconscious couldn't reach them were slowly resurfacing. Irie took her to the moon pool often, but sometimes, even away from Aletheia, Strike would be overcome with feelings of nostalgia, déjà vu, and reminiscing.

I remember... a battle. Who did I lose in it? And... why did I lose them? Did I... did I... leave them? Unfortunately, the battle was still too blurry for Strike to make anything out. It was a dark blur, shady and static-gray creatures swarming her vision. But she was sure she was not alone. There was another Space Ranger with her in that fight... and... she didn't remember who it was. She couldn't even guess.

How could I forget something like that?! Strike cursed herself. I'm not stupid enough to expect that person to still be alive, but I still want to find out what happened to them! Surely there is still a way for me to bring them home... somehow... It was a fanciful fantasy at best, and a dangerous delusion at worst, but Strike was stubborn. She didn't leave allies behind. Ever. And she hated that she couldn't remember this one.

"Then don't tell me your wish," said Irie, smiling despite herself. Curse you, Strike! Making me even more curious! You really didn't strike—ha ha—me as the type to do the whole wishing star thing, but it's cute, I admit. Cute enough that you get a pass, for now...

"But maybe you could tell me what would change in your life if it came true? What led you to make the wish you did?" Irie tried again.

Strike paused again, debating Irie's words. Why does she care so much?! Ah, wait, right, she's Irie, of course she does. She's never made sense to me... I DO want to tell her... but dare I risk it...? It took a little while longer, but eventually, she gave a long, low exhale.

"I have been... experiencing... flashbacks... I think..."

Irie's heart skipped a beat. It pounded faster and faster and faster as Strike described—The battle of the antechamber! She remembers it?!

Yes and no. As Strike was trying to explain, she did and did not remember it until the moon pool. Even then, it was still hard to make out any concrete details. But it felt like every time Irie took Strike back to Aletheia, she got closer and closer to a breakthrough, but never quite made it there.

"It's maddening!" Strike sighed, eyebrows furrowing. Irie, meanwhile, could still barely control and contain her breathing.

She's talking about the antechamber battle! She is! I just know it! I'm sure of it! I'd even bet my life on it! As Strike continued to confess her guilt about forgetting the person she "left behind" the battle she "could not remember", Irie finally saw a chance to jump in.

"I... lost someone in battle too once..." She wasn't trying to compare trauma, and she wasn't even sure she was ready to tell Strike the truth about their past relationship. Even if the time was finally right, it was a secret Irie had kept so long that the thought of just spilling it felt almost impossible. But even if Irie wasn't ready to confess directly, she could still imply...

Strike swallowed, wishing for a deeper connection with Irie, though still cautious about broaching such an obviously sensitive topic, and sabotaging her own wish. Strike was also never one to burden Irie with her worries, though Irie would've begged to differ and begged to be "burdened" by them. She decided to show a rare bit of vulnerability too.

"I... I've been wanting to find that person. The one I left. I feel like they're still out there somewhere in the universe, and I need to find them again." She did not state her wish out loud, but she all but confirmed it. I can only hope that didn't jeopardize...

Strike groaned again that she couldn't remember a name—or even a face or gender—of the one she left behind.

Irie did not reply verbally, but she stepped a little closer to Strike, a silent gesture of solidarity. As the falling stars continued their divine dance, Notus at the heart of it all, Irie and Strike shared a profound moment of connection. The weight of their shared wishes hung in the air.

Oh, Strike, little do you know... The people that we're searching for are... right here! It was a thought that usually brought Irie grief, to be so close to Strike and yet so far, but tonight, Strike's words about the antechamber battle made Iris smile rather than despair. I am Iris, and she is Storm, even if our stories are a little different this time around, the connections to the lost past are still there!