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Dox Maturin

"Dox's Secret"

"Dox's Secret"

Personal Log – 0707.08

 

Onward

 

Dox held his glass of scotch and surveyed the ship's lounge. The lights were a little dimmer than usual, and he concluded that areas considered nonessential (one could argue the essential uses of a bar) had been put on limited power to facilitate repairs around the ship. He sighed, taking in the unusual quietness as the various patrons, officers all still in uniform, sat in silence after enduring a difficult battle. A young officer in the corner caught his eye and he approached.

 

"Elizabeth?" Dox managed a smile, looking down at the ensign cupping a mug of hot tea in both her hands and staring into it. She looked up with a bit of a jump and stiffened; her shoulders relaxed noticeably when she saw it to be Dox. She herself managed to return a smile and gestured for him to sit.

 

He did, and wrinkled his brow as she continued to examine her drink. "Are you alright?" he asked.

 

She shook her head and looked at him. "No," she began, "I'm surprised you're so calm. Rumors have been floating around amongst the junior officers, haven't you heard? We barely survived our last assault and the captain himself questioned whether we were strong enough to make it. But, you were on the bridge weren't you? What happened?" Her eyes widened in anticipation.

 

Dox knew he had to choose his words carefully. He was one of them; a lowly ensign, but somehow he had found himself sitting right along the senior officers, and on the bridge no less. He knew what he said would probably be repeated many times. "No," he corrected her, "actually the captain expressed his faith in us. Do not listen to rumors; he was quite pleased with our progress."

 

That made her feel better. Finally she sipped her steaming tea and looked up at him. "Weren't…weren't you in the Dominion war? I mean, I suppose you could have been, you're older than the rest of us," she said, referring to the gang of ensign scientists on Excalibur. The lower ranks always stuck together. She herself was only 22.

 

He nodded. "2 years. USS Shoemaker, Ulysses, the Granite, Andaman, Jordan, among others."

 

Her eyed went wide again. "Andaman?" she whispered, "you're a survivor of the Andaman massacre?" she trailed off, sipping her tea and somehow feeling a bit better. "Well, anyone who came out of that must have some guts. I imagine this is nothing to you."

 

Dox didn't answer her.

 

The Rescue – 7 years ago

 

The cargo bay hummed quietly as the USS Trident sped away from the planet Andaman at high warp. The bay was filled with soldiers, all recently recovered from 4 months of exile on the planet. No one spoke, and all was quiet except for the murmurs of the various medical officers that tended to the wounded there. The room was lined with cots set up for the survivors from their mission to the planet Andaman. Behind them Dominion and Federation starships battled each other in high orbit, fighting for the ketresel white outpost that they knew was beyond recovery.

 

"Well, Dox, it looks like you're a hero." A man with dirt caked on his face sat himself firmly next to Dox on his cot, throwing a PADD hard into his lap. "Someone told one of those reporters circling around here that you killed one of the Vorta on that outpost. Look there," he pointed to the PADD, "what a hero you are. What a story. What a load of…" the cargo bay shook inexplicably.

 

Dox said nothing, his hand gripped around his missing finger that had recently been cauterized by the medical staff. "Well," the soldier continued, "the men and I have decided we're not going to tell them what really happened down there. But you're going to deny killing any vorta, and you're going to transfer to another company. I swear, Maturin, if you're with us on one more mission it will be your last. If it weren't for Claire, in her memory, I'd just as soon toss you out an airlock right now. We all know what really happened down there, don't we."

 

Escape – 7 years and 2 months ago

 

Dox hung there in the small dimly lit room, chained to the ceiling and spread out in a Y. A Jem'Hadar soldier stood behind him, emotionless. In the distance, he could hear the screams of his fellow officers who he knew were all in the same sort of rooms he was in. With a grunt the Jem'Hadar slashed a lit plasma torch across Dox's side, instantly searing it. His skin turned purple as the blood vessels beneath boiled and burst. He instinctively winced at the sudden pain but made little sound; only a whimpering cry.

 

They had been captured while raiding the outpost for food to bring back to the other Federation soldiers entrenched in the mountains far away. Dox always had to go with them, despite not being a real soldier and having never picked up a weapon (he was merely a triage nurse after all), but simply because he could read the Dominion language. So when they were caught, he too was captured; and the Dominion tortured them all for information.

 

The doors slid open with a dry squeal and a vorta walked through. He gestured for the Jem'Hadar to leave, and he did so immediately. The vorta approached Dox slowly, frowning. Vorta were not used to such barbaric interrogation tactics. Cardassians were more suited to this sort of thing, although the Jem'Hadar was quick to learn their techniques. The vorta looked nearly as tired and beaten as Dox.

 

"How many are there? What is the location of the field commander's camp?" he asked for a hundredth time, not really expecting any answer. The vorta stepped close, and Dox could smell his foul breath. "What's your name? Don't you want to live to go home to your family? Just tell me what I need to know, and this can all be over," he whispered.

 

He reached up and began to unlock Dox's chains. "If you won't tell me under the duress of your own misery, perhaps you will speak when you watch us kill your companions."

 

Dox whimpered again, wanting desperately to cry but was too dehydrated to do so. His chained unlocked and his body fell downward. Unexpectedly, a rush of adrenaline seized him. An image of Claire flashed into his mind, who he had only days ago watched die; her lifeless body and the black hole in her chest, and the unborn child in her that only days after being stranded on Andaman had discovered was there. Rage filled him and his hands flashed forward, grasping the vorta's neck. It was so sudden that there was no time for him to cry out, and they both fell to the ground under Dox's weight. The vorta's head slammed into the metal floor, nearly knocking him out and leaving him defenseless against Dox's stranglehold.

 

It took him so long to die; Dox wasn't sure quite how long. But finally it was over, and Dox came to, some strength returning to him now that he was free. The vorta lay there dead, eyes wide, mouth agape. He looked down at him, waiting for the guilt to come. He had never killed anyone before. He was a peaceful man, as long as he could remember (albeit starting at the age of 13, as he had no memory of anything before that). But the guilt never came. As he stared at the corpse beneath him, a new strange feeling emerged. A feeling of familiarity; something from his childhood. It felt good. He liked it. He expected praise.

 

I did it dad, I killed him.

 

Good boy, Jonathan. Taking after your old man.

 

And then he threw up. It took a moment for him to realize where he was, but quickly he regained his composure and stood and ran out the door, running down the short hall. He came to a large door and pressed a button at its side, prompting it to slide open. The sound of rain filled the hall and water trickled into the building. Dox looked behind him at the torture chamber he had just escaped. He could see the vorta laying there, a phased weapon on his hip. The screams from his comrades rang through the building.

 

He could do it, Dox thought. He could take that weapon, rescue his fellow captured soldiers and they could escape back to the camp together. He would be a hero.

 

He tried to run back to get the weapon, but his legs were frozen. He couldn't go back. The fear in him and the pain from his wounds, from a week of torture, seized his body. He couldn't just leave them there to die. He had to do something. How could he betray Claire's memory?

 

So he cried. He cried at how pathetic he was. He cried as he ran out into the night, with the screams of his companions fading away under the rain.

 

Excalibur – Present Day

 

Elizabeth smiled; feeling much better that a real hero was working by her side in the science department. She beamed, sipping her hot tea and watching him closely. If anything happened, she knew Dox at least would be there to help them while they huddled around the science lab. They were just scientists, but at least they had someone brave to help them through.

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