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All These Things That I've Done

Set during last week's sim, happily explaining my absence from view :lol:






“Another head aches, another heart breaks

I am so much older than I can take”


– The Killers


Pressing a button, an unfamiliar beep followed and the airlock doors opened.


Atticus Segami walked out slowly. He walked away from the marching of boots, the shouting of orders, the cries of wounded, the chaos of it all. Until the sound was no more.


And it was beautiful.


The sky always was. A thousand stars, each twinkling away in the dark. Like children dancing for a parent, each seemed to call “look at me, look at me” in the softest of tones. Hundreds of years old and he felt young again. His steps not on this hostile plane, his heart not full of worries he was back in his old garden. With the smell of cut grass filling his lungs. He’d wander so many nights out there, after a night at a premiere. He’d escape the lies, the smiling faces with daggers to hide, the rat race of it all and just…just look up.


And it would all be alright.


Till he saw it. Hovering in the darkness like a cloud turned menacingly solid, the Jem’Hadar ship glowed with unnatural light. His fantasy crushed like a champagne glass under an iron boot. It represented everything inside that hurt.


With a sigh his walk continued. He needed to do this. If no one else would care, he would.


The walls of the base were covered with scars. Some they’d caused, others not. It was likely the place would not last any length of time without immediate attention. The whole affair could all be for naught if extended use of the facility was needed.


But at the current moment in time he couldn’t give a toss.


The asteroid was pitted with holes. So many explosions had taken their toll on the surface. But now the mines were offline and he could walk among them without a second thought. It was here that he needed to go.


The Trill reached a massive crater and looked down into its depth.


At the very bottom there was what he came to find, a body, dressed in an EVA suit. More than one officer had lost their lives on this mission but this was one he knew they wouldn’t have found. He lowered his head sadly. He breathed one long deep breath.


And then he went to it.


Moving closer and closer he could see how the suit’s gravity function had remained functional even though the wearer had no need for it. Muscles limp, the form bobbed up and down softly like a balloon on a string. It was so sad to see. A testament to the futility of the person’s death.


The name on the chest read two words, “Clarke, Anthony”. The Trill felt a wave of guilt. He couldn’t even remember what the officer looked like.


He gripped the body by its helmet and looked through the faceplate to see the man inside. But what he saw shocked him. It was just a boy, cheeks barely mature enough to grow stubble. He now recognized him as one of the new officers who’d arrived at their last stop at Camelot. It was a young, frightened boy who didn’t want to die here. Who didn’t want to die on a cold dark rock on the edge of space. Deep brown eyes stared at him and asked him a question over and over again.


It asked him…“why?”


And Atticus couldn’t answer. He searched within and just couldn’t.


He found the locks on either side of the helmet and released them. The piece of metal floated out into space. He couldn’t look into those eyes any longer.


Gently as if he was touching a snowflake he reached his fingers forward and closed them.


“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry”, he whispered.


A tear ran down his cheek, the pain inside him burned and he couldn’t contain it. The officer had been under his care and because of his plan the boy had died. Because they didn’t know the terrain better the boy had died. Because the stupid, selfish jem’hadar had shown up late the boy had taken a phaser shot in the chest and died.


But there was nothing he could say to make it better. His words were meaningless as the form in the suit continued to bob. Up and down, up and down. A sick twisted kite in the wind, his touching of the corpse had made it worse.


He couldn’t be like this in front of his team. They were inside, probably celebrating and it was their right. They had acted like heroes even under the pressure he gave them. He’d been hard on them during the mission but it was the only way to keep them alive. They needed a leader and he’d been one. Tough, ruthless, efficient.


But out here, by himself, he could mourn. They would never know, never see this side of him. It wasn’t his place to let them. As an officer he couldn’t. It was a weight he would carry alone. Forever.


Immortality, is not easy.


Going from life to life you lose people, over and over again. Some are close friends, others beloved family members and some, some are just people you could have saved if you’d just done one thing differently. Like this boy.


Like Kathleen.


Each death gets notched on your heart with a blunt dagger, the hurt doesn’t lessen it gets worse and worse. Its probably only the fresh, clear mind of a new host that stops a Trill going mad from it all. Going mad from the ghosts haunting you at night. Immortality… is just not easy.


He sat on a rock. He stared. His first mission as Chief of Security was a success, this was the cost of the prize.


His musings were only interrupted when a hand gripped his shoulder roughly. He turned to see the tall figure of a Jem’ Hadar trooper towering over him. He spoke through a shortwave comm. system to him.


“Human. What are you doing out here? The others have already beamed aboard our ship. You are to come with me immediately.”


Atticus stood up, stretched out his arm and pointed at Ensign Anthony Clarke.


“He comes too.” The CSEC said with no hint of doubt in his voice.


“Hah” The Jem Hedar sniggered. “For what reason? He is dead.”


“I am well aware of that. Nonetheless he is coming with me. I am not leaving him here. Not like this.”


“Very well”, the trooper grumbled. He attached a small beacon to the body. He found it all quite amusing.


“You humans. You are very odd.”


“I wouldn’t know. I’m a Trill.”


The three of them shimmered away, leaving only the bloodstained ground in their wake.

Edited by Images

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Gracias Victria!


Yep Dox, Segami is one messed up Trill! Well when your past lives include drug-addled celebrities, mad scientists, thieves, smugglers and horribly tortured diplomats you go a lil mad when you finally do good...and it all goes to pot.


Reading it again it looks so corny now!


Cheers Again

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I love it!


Nothing wrong with a little madness now and again. :lol:


I agree - Chief Seg, I like the log!

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