NCC - 77447 - B
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The Bitter Taste of Duty

Posted on Thu Nov 5th, 2020 @ 3:42am by Commander Mark Bawden

Mission: Broken
Location: Quarters

From the sofa of Mark's Quarters he watched the Black Hole do it's work, a trail of like a whisp of a cloud sprouting from the planet towards the destructive attraction that would take all. Mark had been feeling off since the briefing with the Captain, it nagged at him, chewed at his already rough edges. His Daughter sat in his lap looking at the same view he was but her perspective was one of innocence and incomprehension.

"It's pretty."

Her little sweet voice pulled him back into the moment, he guessed to her that it was 'pretty' but knew that was simple because she lacked knowing what was truly going on and the consequences of what she was watching. He knew that sooner or later an entire culture, a civilisation would be wiped from the face of everything only to be morbidly recorded by the ships sensors for later study. Mark had to wonder what Ayla was feeling since she was the Chief Science Officer. Before her lay every sensor system on the ship and she was tied into it all from her station.

The order to do nothing, forbidden to lend aid because of a directive was a difficult pill to swallow. When Mark joined up he felt he was joining something bigger than he was but in doing so he would be able to make things better in his own way or touch.

In this situation though there was no way, no touch.

His career was a long and varied one, dotted with moments of good and bad, traumatic and brave but little compared to the little girl in his lap now, his Daughter. Mark's Wife, Ayla had been through some rough ordeals and yet still they had formed a family together. It was part of the reason he left the Marines, with the loss of one Daughter Mark could still remember the discussion in the Turbolift with Ayla.

Defective, broken, find someone else she said. He remembered stopping the Turbolift where it was, turning to her and laying it all on the line for her in exact, explicit detail. Mark wasn't going to give up on Ayla.

Fate sometimes gifted fortune to people but reality sometimes reared its head and was quick to taketh such fortune away. Mark knew the uniform had dangers and in some way maybe naive in thinking that such a cruel turn of fortune would never happen to him, but it did. For all the technology he was surrounded with, all the...technological marvels, accomplishments, discoveries it seemed that some how, in some way that fate always stroke to do something to negate them.

Mark was left wondering how things would be living out his days on a planet. The family of them away from starships and stations, enjoying real sun, real rain and living a normal life. He'd thought about suggesting it prior to joining the ship but this was something new and considering the class there was a security in size and capability of a Valkyrie class. She was a feather in caps for sure and one that he was not going to deny Ayla in donning.

"You hungry sweetie?" Mark asked, a smile, a cheerful nod in reply from his Daughter. "Come on then, lets go get something to eat."

Mark rose from the sofa with cargo in arm towards the Kitchen with food on the mind and options of what before him.

 

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