What Does Home Mean To You?

Posted on Tue Sep 1st, 2026 @ 7:21am by Civilian Kerilia Dosivi [PPC]

Mission: Season 6: Episode 7: Crossroads of Destiny
Location: Dosivi Quarters
Timeline: Some time after the S6E7 rescue
917 words - 1.8 OF Standard Post Measure

The lights were off in the bedroom. Kerilia had curled up in her bed, the blankets wrapped around her as if they could shield her from everything. Teevs had come in a while ago, concerned but understanding, and left some food and water for her, but it sat untouched on the nightstand. She wasn’t hungry. Her face barely peeked out from the blankets as she watched holomovies on a PADD, not paying much attention but needing something to fill the void.

An alert popped up on the screen, and Kerilia stared at it for a couple seconds. A reminder to finish homework. Given what happened, she was exempt from school for a little bit, but she clicked on the alert anyways to see which assignment it was. It was the culture assignment, the one Addison tried to help her with. Seeing her answers made that hollow feeling in her chest burn, but then Kerilia remembered that the last question was still unanswered.

What does home mean to you?

Kerilia almost closed the assignment so she could go back to watching movies, but something made her stop. She stared at the question for a long time. Then, shifting enough so she could use both hands, she began to type. It started out hesitant, with lots of backspaces and pauses.

Home used to be a place. I grew up visiting my homeworld, where there was always stability, always a bed made just for me, always a warm embrace. I spent much of my life on the Spheia, and it was the part of Niea IV that Dad and I could take with us. Its walls felt secure and familiar. I think home used to mean a place I could always return to and something I kept with me.

As Kerilia typed, memories replayed in her mind. Visiting family for the celebration of Niea IV completing an orbit around the star. Kerilia running around the Spheia with arms spread like she was flying. The trips she and Teevs would go on to explore their homeworld. The typing became a little more fluid as she continued.

Culturally, it was knowing that everyone around me went through the coming-of-age rite, that I wasn't alone in my experiences. Being proud of my identity and heritage gave me confidence. There were things I could only do on Niea IV, and that uniqueness made it feel special and made it mean something.

Now, those things don't quite feel like home anymore.

The screen got blurry. The knot in her chest tightened. Pausing, Kerilia put down the PADD and buried her face into the pillow, letting herself feel the grief that consumed her. Her mind raced with the events of the last couple weeks, how everything changed when that stupid crescent mark appeared on her forehead. The look of contempt Aunt Ailova gave her in the bathroom. The things the guards said to her to make her feel worthless. Teevs, when they met eyes in sickbay and she saw what the guards had done to him.

After a few minutes, the emotional surge began to wane into something more bearable. With a wet sniffle, Kerilia dragged her face out of the pillow to look at the PADD again. Slowly, she continued to type.

My own people showed me that their home and celebrations are only for those who belong. The experiences shared by those who were supposed to protect me weren't meant for me, they were meant for their version of me. I don't feel comfort when I think of them anymore. I don't belong there anymore. Home shouldn't feel like that.

Writing those words didn't ease any of the grief in her chest. If anything, it made her want to cry again. She stared at the words, torn between deleting them and leaving them in. It was raw, and personal, but that's how losing home felt. It wasn't just the increasing distance from the planet she grew up to love that hurt, but realising that the world she grew up to love didn't want her.

She lost everything. Family. Culture. Pride.

Belonging.

Before the Elysium arrived to Niea IV, Kerilia would watch the crew. They had their own rhythms and rituals, some festive and others quiet. People would gather in the mess hall or the promenade just to share stories. Birthday celebrations at school would come with unique diversity. The crew was curious, and their interest in her and Teevs felt... welcoming.

It wasn’t the same as what she had before, but maybe it didn't have to be. Maybe there was room for her to belong here, to thrive in the communal kindness and curiosity that embodied the ship. Maybe the crew could become the family she had lost.

Maybe, one day, the ship could become her home.

I'm not quite sure if I know what or where home is right now, but I know what I want it to mean. I want home to be comforting. I want connection, but it doesn't have to be in shared experience. The people on the Elysium come from so many different cultures, even those from the same species, but a sense of community unites them. They work together. They accept each other, even if they are different. They celebrate those differences.

I want home to be a place where I am accepted, where I can exist as I am. Where I can celebrate being me.