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Tristan Xenatos

"So Far..."

Tristan sat, staring into the blank monitor before him. His mind swirled and churned, his subconscious tearing at his conscious mind, threatening his already fragile mental state. He stared into the black void of the screen before him. Blank for he had yet to activate it, yet to convince himself that it was the proper course of action.


He stood, unable to sit anymore he paced to the other side of the room. Looking down at the glass top table situated to the left in his room, his eyes fell on the PADD that was the cause of all this. It had been 5 hours since Corizon had given him that very PADD, 5 hours since his already shaky world had been thrown into chaos. He lay his hand gently on it’s metallic surface and lifted it from the surface of the glass.


Striding to the door he walked out into the corridors. They were devoid of life, most of the crew being on leave aboard Camelot. He turned to his right and began to walk down the empty hallway before him. Why… his mind began to wonder. Why had Corizon given him this? He did not understand what possible reasoning the Dameon had for allowing him to view this.


Coming to a long viewport, he paused, staring out into the stars. This was something that always relaxed him, allowed him to clear his mind. Each point of light represented multiple worlds, billions of beings….it was all very relaxing to know that one was merely one cog in the vast machine of the universe. He sighed as he chided himself for forgetting one of the first lessons his father taught him. Even the smallest cog, Tristan, can change the world as we know it. His father’s voice boomed in his head, the voice from home bringing him back to the PADD in his pocket.


He sighed, lowering his eyes to the floor. A decision had to be made, and no one could make this one for him. He had been raised…groomed, to make these decisions. So why now was he having such difficulty…


Elasia was in turmoil, teetering on the break of complete civil war. The last reports, other then the one he know held, had both sides virtually holding phasers to each other’s temples. He had read the transcript, sent via his father’s offices, of the last meeting between the Lord Regent and the Isian leaders. The exchange between the two sides had been heated to say the least. But what concerned Tristan was what occurred towards the end of the meeting. Apparently the SS Sussex had been attacked, though by whom nobody knew yet. Both sides, as one would predict, were blaming each other. This, Tristan knew, had all the makings of a flashpoint. He sighed, war, it seemed, was nearing the point of inevitability.


Which made the decision Tristan was now faced with of even more importance. Things, however, it seemed were not as strait forward as some would assume. Apparently, there were two Starfleet officer’s within the meeting on Elasia. Tristan reached into a different pocket and removed a different PADD then the one Corizon had given him. This one was the one he had received from his father’s office. He scrolled down and found what he was looking for, the name of the Starfleet Officers involved. Hayden Dacotah, Captain. And Arphazad Lo’Ami, Commander. Tristan had cross referenced the names and found that they were assigned to a Sovereign Class vessel which had had an interesting, to say the least, record. He thumbed further down to the section where he had placed his notes. There it was, the name of the vessel. Arcadia.


Replacing the PADD in his pocket, Tristan focused his attention, once again, on the stars out the viewport in front of him. If the Federation was to get involved in all this, things would complicate, fast. In the same vein, you had the matter of the information he had received. Corizon knew very well who he was, and who his father was, and had given him the report none the less. Tristan’s mind began to clear as he felt himself reentering the analytical state he worked so hard to maintain. Clasping his hands behind his back in the way he had done since he was a small child, he raised his chin and straitened his back. His decision made, he turned and strode back down the corridor. He did not wander, his step sure. He walked with purpose and intent back to his quarters.


Sitting back down, he stared back into the void of the blank monitor. Only this time, he reached for the controls. He readied himself for the conversation he was about to have, but that conversation never came. Tristan found himself staring into another blank screen, unable to make a connection through the wormhole to the Alpha Quadrant. His mind spun and twirled in confusion. He had waited to late, agonized over the decision to long, and now he was unable to do what needed to be done. He turned and looked out the viewport in his quarters at the stars. All his travels, his time spent at schools on multiple worlds, and yet…. He sighed. As he sat there, staring out this viewport on this far flung vessel, he had never felt so far from home.

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