| Author | Message | ||
     Commander Sieven Drexler |
November 3, 2002 Sieven Drexler Adjutant, TG 85.3 "Alighted Soul" - Part One You ask me why I dwell in the green mountain; I smile and make no reply for my heart is free of care. As the peach-blossom flows downstream and is gone into the unknown, I have a world apart that is not among men. The office was dark. Only the dim ambience of the monitor behind the desk was potent enough to cast a shadow. The sillhouette before it was still, a weak orange halo around its edges from the monitor's glow. The man was simply sitting in the chair, legs uncrossed, arms unfolded, simply sitting in the most basic manner possible. The hum of the air circulation system and the engines were ubiquitous, but quietly sank into the background of the mind. The lull of the pulsing energy conduits beneath the deck was a strong sedative. There was no sleep here, though, only onus and frustration. It was a viscous feeling on the walls and on objects. The wall monitor seemed frozen, waiting for something to happen. The PADDs on the desks were all evenly stacked and the work was done, but there was something terribly wrong with everything. It was a solemn and tenebrous reality that now faced the crew of the USS Coronado, and Sieven Drexler was at its very core. The order to install the devices that would annihalate their enemy was in the active memory of one of the sleeping PADDs on the desk, unsigned and waiting for the admiral's approval. It beckoned to him and he denied it. He fought with the idea of destroying the Pfhor, despite their actions, but he remembered the way he felt about the Borg; the way he'd felt about them for one hundred years. Nothing would stop him, given the chance, of carrying out his vengeance, but he had been content to live with the idea that there would never be such a chance, and for that, he had learned to avoid frustration. Only now, though, he had the chance to eradicate another Borg-like threat, and it brought up all of the old emotions, all of the old imagery. The cubes flew over the metropolis and never fired a shot. They mocked the Êaaniar before they ever did any damage. That was when they still had emotions and a purpose; much like the Pfhor now. He knew everything he needed to know from his alternate memories and had planned an entire assault based on them. Not only would they dismantle the Hegemony, but they would do it in such a surgical manner that very few would die. Still, though, something tugged at his morality. With a brief fit of outward frustration, the silhouette cautiously slammed his fist on the desk, breaking nothing, but sufficiently releasing his anger. He leaned forward on his elbows, sighing. It wasn't going to be satisfactory to eradicate the Pfhor. The need to fight the Borg was becoming strong again, but he could control it. He had to for the sake of his friends, and his people. A small indicator began flashing on the monitor behind him, followed by a soft beep. He swiveled in his chair to glance at it. 0600 – Flag staff meeting, Deck 9/Command Conference Room There was an outward sigh of relief. He was becoming tired and restless when dealing with his own thoughts, and being around people would be a good change, ironically. He stood up, grabbing the top three PADDs from the stack, and then left the small office. (to be continued) BTC |