Dustin_Marks

Personal Log for Lt. Dustin Thomas Marks; MD (Decommissioned)

Stardate: Unknown

Location: New Las Vegas, Earth

BEGIN LOG

 

Seven years... Seven years I have been away from Starfleet and in private practice. Now while I do enjoy helping the occassional child overcome influenza and the retired folks find relief from their arthritis... I sit here on my porch sometimes wondering what it is still like out in space. Now and again I still break open my old suspension case and look at the heirlooms I brought with me on ship because now amongst the old west weaponry lies another relic from the past... My commission.

 

While I may not be a member of Starfleet anymore, I still find myself looking at my Lieutenant stripes and remember the pride I felt serving in space. I remember curing the sick during the Martedi plague, brewing coffee in our medical canisters for the crew and just doing things that you wouldn't think of back on Terra. Most importantly I remember the adventure abroad...

 

Should I bring back the past and look into rejoining the ship I loved? I don't know... I don't know because I am not the same man I was when I served oh so many years ago. I've found my niche on Earth but ultimately... It is an empty existance. How I yearn to feel the pride of serving the greater cause and not just working with dermal regeneration for skinned knees and bumped heads. I can only suppose that the decision lies within Starfleet if the time comes and they need me back. One can hope, one can dream and one can look towards the future...

 

END LOG

"Sanity calms, but madness is more interesting"

 

John Russell

 

 

Lt.(jg) JP Marks stood at his tactical station, slowly beginning to understand the true realization of his plight. As much as he wanted to deny it, JP realized that mentally he may be slightly unstable. Ever since the incident on the Holodeck back on Starbase 234, JP's mind was fractured glass. Pieces of his psyche were started to interfere in his day to day life and he ultimately realized the situation the Agincourt was currently in was not helping him to get better.

 

Everything he looked at and dealt with was reminding him of his dead wife. Back on the Holodeck, JP thought that the characterization of Billy Clanton was making risque comments about Jia Qi. He actually believed that these "holograms" were real people, tormented him with insults. JP shook his head slightly, not truly remembering what possessed him to begin opening fire with his real rifle on the Holograms. However, he did know how it made him feel to realize he could of seriously injured or even killed his crewmates.

 

Even now, JP could feel the hot looks of concern and uncertainty that Ensign Sydney Richardson shot him as she was on the bridge. Honestly, JP couldn't blame her for acting the way she was. He could only wonder how many people knew about the incident now and whether or not it would get back to the brass. He was forced to admit that even if no one else knew, the other three in the Holodeck did. They also knew he was about to tell them the dark feelings he had been hiding that he ultimately could not get out.

 

JP rubbed his hands together nervously, realizing that the dark shell of attitude, coldness, and duty wasn't protecting him quite the way it used to. He realized that he was becoming more annoyed and paranoid as the days went on. It wasn't yet interfering with his duty or with his performance, but realistically, it could only be a matter of time before it would completely eat him away inside.

 

JP allowed his gaze to come up from the console and to rest on the Klingon who was on the forward viewscreen. A slight sigh escaped JP's lips as Morg argued with Col. Harper over the medical supplies onboard. For half a second, he actually believed the Klingon to be Colonal Malg, further fanning the flames of paranoia.

 

With a visible loosening of his muscles, JP came to his conclusion. He would have to tell someone why these things were bothering him. For way too long he kept his feelings hidden and it was gnawing away inside of him. But ultimately it left him with one final question; who could he trust to talk to?

Lt.(jg) Jefferson Prescott Marks stood in Cargo Bay 1 with his hands on his hips. To a casual observer, it would appear that he was just standing there, looking impatient. Upon a closer inspection, one would see JP's eyes wavered from the incoming medical supplies to the Agincourt's medical staff. If you went even deeper, you would find that JP's mind was simply annoyed.

 

JP scratched his chin slightly, shooting a slight look of frustration at the Minervan Doctor Shoeny who ran about with his scanners. It didn't bother JP to work with the medical crew, but the fact of the matter was, he didn't like anyone second guessing what the security officers were doing. Shoeny's off-color remark about not touching anything made JP burn on the inside.

 

As far as JP was concerned, Security was already playing second fiddle to the Marines and any determent to their ability to do any task was nothing more then a total morale breaker. As the ranking Security Officer in the Cargo Bay, JP had half a mind to pull Shoeny to the side and voice his displeasure with his choice of words. He stopped though, reminding himself that Medical and Security both had a job to perform.

 

JP released a sigh as one of the Security Crewmen handed him a PADD with a count of supplies. He looked it over and initialed it. The Crewman scurried off as JP looked out, waiting for medical to finish their scans, allowing them to get back to business...

 

Oh yeah... ^_^

What, don't you like eating shrimp tails? LOL

Wow, I am at the same rank as Cosmo... No more ordering my mouse to die now eh??? LOL

Just another update... Partying with my promotion ;)

Jorlis has GOT to be Qui-Gon. ;)

Oooooh... Good choice Kansas. ;)

If you had to make one book canon to the Trek universe, what would it be? For me, it would be "Crossover" by Michael Jan Friedman. To me, this was the best novelization of TNG ever written if not the best in the Trek universe. (Although Dreams of the Raven and The Rift rank up there as well.)

"Dustin! He's dead! STOP IT!" Katie screamed.

 

Dustin stared at the limp body which he continued to attack and stopped cold.

 

"My god... What have I done..."

 

Tears began to well up in Dr. Marks' eyes as he stared at the now bloody carnage that surrounded him. He had literally slaughtered half a dozen men in nothing more then a blind rage. He stood slowly and slumped up against the side of the ship, physically shaking in a combination of shock and fear.

 

++++++++++++++++++++

 

What had happened that caused me to completely lose my mind? Was it the situation with Kresh? Watching my fellow crewman get slaughtered by those pirates? The sheer senselessness of it all is overwhelming...

 

++++++++++++++++++++

 

Dustin looked around blankly as the rest of the crew began driving off the pirates. The Captain had yelled something about ceasing fire and it seemed the crew had managed to fight off the majority of the Pirates. Smoke continued to billow from both ships but the fighting had slowed down.

 

Dustin looked down and saw the blood continue to pool from the various men dead on the deck. It was a carnage, and one that he had helped manifest. He looked at his violently shaking hands with a far away gaze on his face.

 

++++++++++++++++++++

 

I literally killed... Some with my bare hands. These same hands that had helped hundreds in my time as a doctor had killed countless members of that pirate ship. How could I allow myself to fight like that? How could I allow myself to literally rip the skin off of those men... How...

 

++++++++++++++++++++

 

Tears began to flow freely as Dustin tried to regain himself. A Crewman fell right in front of him, a dagger protruding from his chest.

 

"Doc...Doctor... Help..."

 

Dustin stared at him for a second and tried picking the man up to drag him over to the Medical Bay. His own rubbery legs didn't help much and he had to kneel down as the man continued to cough up streams of blood. He paused, looking deep inside himself to find the power to move on.

 

++++++++++++++++++++

 

Damn it Dustin! Pull it together! You fought because it was what you had to do! If you didn't kill those men, they would have killed you... Or Katie... Or the Captain... Or countless others on this ship! You do not have the right to second guess yourself in battle and you do not have the right to stop yourself from saving others! Do you hear me Marks??? PICK YOURSELF UP AND HELP THIS MAN!!!

 

++++++++++++++++++++

 

The shaking in Dustin's knees slowly stopped and he physically began to take control of himself again. With a newfound flurry of strength, he picked up the man and began jogging through the blinding smoke towards the medical bay. There was no use crying at this point, There was only his sense of duty... The duty to move past the carnage and help everyone he could.

Dr. Dustin Marks stood on the bridge of the ship, rapidly relaying his talking to with Security Chief Quint to Captain Huff. As he replayed the scenereo per orders from Katie, he started to realize how crazy it all might seem to the Captain. Here he was, a simple Doctor of Medicine, caught up on a clipper ship in the middle of some unknown ocean explaining why we were all about to die...

 

But why? Why was he placing so much faith in the ranting of a crazy Vulcan? He wasn't a doctor of psychology outside of his basic training in medical school so he really had no way of knowing if he was just ranting of a madman. However... There was something about the way Quint looked that really sparked something inside Dustin's mind.

 

His eyes.

 

His eyes did not seem crazy... They seemed... Scared almost. Worried about the possibly impending doom upon the Hood. Could it be that Quint had somehow been tapped by these aliens and they were showing him the future? Could it simply be his faith in his security crew with these antiqued weapons led him to the probable outcome? Or maybe he was simply mad... Although that option did not seem viable to Marks.

 

Dustin continued to rapidly explain this to the Captain, summing it up with Quint's recommendation of fighting the only way we may have a chance to win with, hand-to-hand combat. We would have to get close enough to board without taking enough broadsides to send the ship sinking... If it could even be done. He could only hope Huff would either accept that option or figure out something even better before it was too late...

I can almost hear the "2001: Space Odyssey" theme as you turn it on for the first time. ;)

I agree with the end montage... It was very well done although I was truly hoping for a more "elaborate" video...

 

As for the episode itself, I loved the TNG tie in, even marvelling at it at times. It makes me yearn for the old TNG show and not just a movie. In fact, the end episode makes me wonder what the next step in Trek is going to be...

With a third volley of phaser fire, Lieutenant Junior Grade JP Marks

took down the several targets floating in the background as the bell

sounded. He breathed heavily as the level bumped up to level 14 and the

Holodeck targets would stop appearing at set intervals. He shook his

muscles slightly as he waited for the buzz to sound again to start the next

level. It sounded and he quickly started firing as the flashing red

balls appeared all around the Holodeck.

 

2Lt. Hanna-Beth Rieve had freshened up since the deployment to the

warbird was canceled. Since then, she had showered, ate a light meal,

slept a night's sleep, and completed a day of relatively light duty. She

was wearing her normal duty uniform now, which, despite its stuffy

nature, was much more accomodating than the BDUs. During the past day, she

couldn't help but think that had she been a slightly better shot, she

could have prevented Cpl. Steele from dying down on the planet. So, she

booked some holodeck time with the target practice simulator.

 

When she arrived at the Holodeck, she found it already running the

program. She checked the time and the identity of the current user, and

then hit the yellow button that would let her enter the field, whether

the user was finished or not. As quietly as is possible, she walked into

the simulator and stood by the side as Marks hit his targets.

 

JP missed a target and cursed himself as he continued to roll and fire.

He suddenly heard a noise behind him and quickly whirled around to

fire. His eyes widened as he realized that it was someone walking into the

Holodeck and quickly stopped himself from drilling the entrant between

the eyes. JP stared at the Marine and sighed as the simulation came to

an end. "Can I help you?"

 

Hanna-Beth hoped that the man in the yellow undershirt had remembered

to set his phaser to the low training setting. Either way, wasn't going

to let this man, this Lt.(jg) Marks, know that it was uncertainty that

brought her here. "Not bad for someone on level 14," she said, before

matter-of-factly stating, "You're overtime."

 

JP looked at the Marine and shrugged. "If you say so, I thought it

would be proper procedure to wait until the end of a training scenerio...

Errr... 2nd Lieutenant..."

 

Hanna-Beth noticed the pause. "Rieve, ... Hanna-Beth Rieve ... It is

Lt. Marks, I presume, who seems to be having some trouble keeping track

of allotted time," she said. Her tone was not really accusatory. It

was more like trying to save-face than anything else.

 

JP raised an eyebrow. "Well Miss Rieve, the Holodeck is all yours. I

suppose the Marines could use the target practice." JP smiled ever so

slightly, meaning the comment to be more humerous then mocking.

 

The woman slowly and nonchalantly walked towards the center platform

that served as the user's firing point during a simulation. Before Marks

could take a step, she turned towards him, but directed her request

upwards. "Computer, load target simulator, level ... FIFTEEN."

 

JP's cleared his throat slightly. "Is that a challenge?"

 

Hanna-Beth looked him straight in the eye, rested one hand on her hip,

and intoned, "Do you want it to be one?"

 

JP lets a small sneer pull at his lips. "Young lady, you are about to

learn why Security should be heading the missions on this ship." With a

setting of his feet and the pointing of his phaser, he let out as an

after-thought. "Loser buys the drinks."

 

Hanna-Beth mimicked JP's mouth motion, "Deal. Red targets are positive

points, Green are double, Blue are negative." She removed her duty

jacket and left it by the arch at the entrance to the Holodeck. She drew

her hand phaser, and set it to the training setting. "Ready?"

 

JP cocked an eyebrow. "Always."

 

"Then let's go." Hanna-Beth stepped to the right of Marks, and gave

the computer the command. "Computer, begin level. Three second start

countdown." The computer unemotionally counted down... three... two ...

one .... Hanna-Beth held her phaser at ready.

 

Targets began appearing in the air at random intervals. They flew

around, some with a recognizable trajectory, others shimmeyed and swayed,

with the "intent" to punish the practicer. The computer recorded two

scorecards, which displayed on a floating "screen" at the back wall of

the holodeck. Each had four entries. One for red balls, one for green

and one for blue, and one that computed the total score. Target

practice at level 15 wasn't just a shooting competition, it was a rigorous

exercise program as well.

 

The phaser fire from the two hand weapons was flying fast and loose.

Sometimes the beams crossed as the two combatants tried to hit the same

target. Only one would get the points added or deducted from the

score.

 

JP fired with increased enthusiasm, looking to prove some sort of

professional victory with a win against the Marine. He was doing his best to

stay ahead with the targets but quickly found himself draining of

energy as the targets continued to come out. He shot a glance over at Rieve,

wondering how she was holding up.

 

Hanna-Beth was trying to keep up with and best the security officer.

She fancied that he probably thought this was some kind of vindication of

his career choice. The winning score fluctuated, changing almost as

frequently as a beam left a weapon. Hanna-Beth noticed that Marks was

glancing over, and that at that particular moment, she was two points up.

She let out a jibe, "*huff* I have expensive ... tastes, .... you

know?" She missed a target while opening her mouth.

 

JP fired another burst and went up by one. "I'm a... *cough* easy

person to buy *huff* drinks for..." He nailed another target. "Saurian

Brandy if you WILL!"

 

The friendly combat continued ... and so will this log...

Updated the bio, added some possessions, killed a few Klingons... Errr... Scratch the last one. ;)

Aloha new recruit and welcome! They pretty much covered the basics but always feel free to ask your fellow STSFers for advice or if you have any questions!

Mmmm... Bacon Cheeseburger...

 

Large Fry or Large Coke?

Dude! Dell!

 

Friday Nights or Saturday Nights?

Cosine!

 

Professional Wrestling or Daytime Soap Operas?

Right, its the "Right way" oh ho... ho ho ho... I bust myself up. ;)

 

Baseball or Cricket?

I have two dogs, Leonard (yes, named after everyone's favorite doctor.) and Stormy. Basically both were going to be homeless dogs that I took in and now I love them both to pieces ;)

"You know... Why is it everytime something goes wrong, it has to happen to me?"

 

 

That was the thought of Ensign Jefferson Prescott Marks as he stared at the huge head of the Romulan commander on the view screen. As Captain Davies seemingly tried to explain and debate the relevence of the Agincourt with the Pax Primus prisoners, JP could only shake his head at the dire situation. In a nutshell, the Agincourt was dead in the water. This monsterous Romulan ship had managed to not only cripple the Agincourt's weapons, but also its Engines in one fell swoop. Even as JP assessed the damage wasn't critical, it was enough to keep them relatively defenseless against this ship.

 

JP's mind began to race as he tried to think of something to do to help pull the Agincourt out of the red and back into a plausable positive scenereo. He figured their just had to be someway to shift the momentum back into the Agincourt's favor that didn't involve direct access to weapons or propulsion. He thought back to his days at the Tactical school in Annapolis and wandered to the time the Tactical Program was brought back to Starfleet Acadamy to participate in the Kobiashi Maru simulator.

 

JP's eyes lit up as he thought back to his team's time in the simulator. Then, of course, he didn't know it was a no-win scenereo but even if he did, he would of wanted to test the limits of the simulator. A small smile crept up on his face as he recalled his Cadet Captain buckling under the pressure as 4 renegade Klingon Birds of Prey decloaked around their Galaxy Class vessel. He remembered the Captain look about hopelessly and turning to him for advice...

 

****CUE FLASH BACK SEQUENCE****

 

"TACTICAL! SUGGESTION!!!" The Cadet Captain yelped to JP.

 

With a look at his console and a slight gulp, he looked back down at the Captain. "We lost everything sir, weapons, Propulsion, power to everything but the transporters and life support... Even the warp drive is fluxuating. I suggest we Aban..." JP stopped himself as he thought about the Warp Drive and his eyes widened. "I suggest we pull a canister of Anti-Matter sir."

 

At that moment, a pin dropping could of been heard throughout the bridge. The Acadamy Commander, who was portraying OPS, looked back at JP. "Anti-Matter is extremely unstable. What would you suggest we do?"

 

JP swallowed deeply before staring dead at the 4 Birds of Prey. "I suggest we beam it right in-between those Turtlehead's shields and watch them all burn to space dust... Sir."

 

The Cadet Captain looked nervously from JP to the Acadamy Commander and back again. With shaking hands he slapped the button to Engineering. "Mr. DiPalma! Bleed me one canister of Anti-Matter and get it to Transporter Room 3."

 

A faint crackling was heard. "But sir," Dipalma responded, "The locks for the Anti-Matter weren't meant to go through the transporter, we could be blown to bits!"

 

"I AM AWARE OF THAT MR. DIPALMA!" The Cadet Captain snapped back.

 

"Errr... Aye sir."

 

Within minutes, the anti-matter was bled and the transporter controls were in the hands of JP. "On your orders sir," JP announced.

 

The Cadet Captain looked up at the view screen and the mocking laughter of the Klingon captain. "Send them all to hell Mr. Marks and once the package is away, get us out of here at whatever we have left."

 

"Indeed," Marks responded. With a holding of the breath, the Anti-Matter successfully transported directly into the Klingon's Shields causing an explosion which ripped the other three ships to space particles. The Cadet ship was also hit hard as the light flickered all over the bridge, however sensors indicated the ship was in one piece and a loud cheer erupted on the bridge. "Great idea JP!" "Way to go Marks!" "Nice thinking!"

 

The excitement was short lived however as 8 more Klingon ships appeared and tore the remains of the Cadet ship out from under them, but not before JP helped establish one of the longest running survival times in Kobiashi Maru history...

 

****END FLASHBACK SEQUENCE****

 

JP smiled slightly realizing that one idea may be the ace in the hole they had left. True, if they destroyed the Romulan ship, Intergalactic war would break out shattering all the peace that was achieved... However, his job was to find ways to protect the ship, not to be a diplomat for the federation. If the Captain was unsuccessful and couldn't get the Romulan ship to stand down, he was ready to suggest the dangerous option.

Quoting Dr. Suess??? NERD. :P

"STOP KRESH!"

 

"GET DOWN!"

 

"KNOCK HIM OUT!"

 

"ARGHHHH!"

 

Random shouting emitted from the small room where the multitude of Officers were struggling with the bleeding, rampaging, and drunk Lt. Commander Kresh. One of those men was Dr. Dustin Marks who struggled valiently to pin Kresh down with Lt. Max Precip. His muscles strained against the Tellerite's as his mind flourished with bewilderment.

 

He struggled with what to do about Kresh in regards to the psychological and physical abuse he had inflicted on the Doctors, the Guards, and himself. The options were boorish at best and seemed to all try to bubble to the surface at the same time. It was almost as if three different voices inside his head were screaming at him on what to do.

 

One part, which could be best described as Marks' Ego or Manhood, wanted to rip Kresh in half. The Ego was sick and tired of being abused during every encounter he had with the Hood's Chief Engineer and looked for the most savage way to be rid of the problem. It also didn't help matters that Kresh had abused a person he cared for in Katie and it took every ounce of his being not to unleash that fury by bashing Kresh's head in with a club.

 

The next voice was basically Marks' sense of duty. As far as he was concerned, Kresh was NOT behaving like a Starfleet Officer in any sense of the word. As Precip had said himself, he was abusing his power at every turn, hiding behind his rank as a way of being untouchable and a bully. This part wanted desperetely to sign and document every instance where Kresh had acted beyond his bounds and have him Court-Martialled and drummed out of the service.

 

The final part of Dustin's mind was his Medical concern as a Doctor. Although quieter then the more "brash" voices, it also seemed to be the make the most sense. In his eyes, something had to be mentally wrong with Kresh. Whether it be from the alcohol, lead poisoning, or something in the air, it was his duty to help the Commander. Regardless of Dustin's personal feelings towards Kresh or his opinions on his conduct as an Officer, he was a doctor first and should act like one.

 

The doctor in him strived to rationalize that the other two options had to be wrong. If he attacked and killed Kresh, he himself would be a murderer and could quite possibly have killed a mentally or physically sick member of Starfleet. If he took this to the brass, Starfleet would lose one of the best Engineers in the fleet and a valuable asset to the Federation would be gone. However, if he chose to help him., he could possibly salvage a shred of decency out of the Tellerite and maybe help to restore order within the ship...

 

With a sharp elbow thrown by the thrashing Kresh, Dustin was snapped back to reality. He continued to struggle to hold Kresh down, allowing his Medical Prowess to guide his actions. For now, he would do everything he could to help Kresh before allowing one of the other manifestations of himself to take over...