Escape from Reality

[Cptn Corizon 0]

Ah-Windu held the empty flask in his hand, laying on his back staring at the streaming stars. He looked around for another bottle. It’s been a long time since he’d seriously hit the bottle like he was about to do. The windmills of his mind turned slowly as his claws found the bottle he was searching for in the dim light of the stars.

 

The Vorta, his leg, the crew. Name a cause and you could likely find it. Corizon never considered himself to be an Alcoholic, and by all accounts—he wasn’t. It was a very private thing for him; already a private person.

 

He twisted the top of the bottle off, slowly but surely before placing it to his lips and letting the cool liquid seer down his throat. “Ahh…”

 

Of course, like every adolescent, he’d had his run in with overindulgence, but an addict? Not likely. It was just an escape for him. Sometimes you needed to runaway. Sure the holodeck could do that for you, but it was still real. He wanted to escape the reality of his situation, his world.

 

The bottle went to his lips again. If only his crew could see him at this moment. So weak and vulnerable; they’d never believe it. The image of the strong, steadfast Commander faded with his sobriety. They trusted in him not to falter or fail, and it weighed on him heavily, like a great stone upon his back.

 

Occasionally, you had to go to sleep and let your dreams come true, just lay back and let this crazy world pass by undisturbed. The bottle went to his lips again, he put it down. He closed his eyes; who cared where he went on this rugged ole’road?