Lingering Thoughts

[Cptn Corizon 0]

Sweat trickled down his face, mixing in amalgam with dust and caked on blood, causing both to turn to a red-muddy paste that drenched his once pristine mustache. His heart pounded in his chest. Thump. Thump. His breath was short, and he sucked in a deep gasp of hot, windy air. He held back a cough.

 

The dust kicked up again and swirled the leaves of the bush he was hiding underneath around. He glanced to his watch. Just a few more minutes.

 

He heard the pistons of a clunky transport in the distance. Not long now.

 

Running his hands along the well worn wooden stock of the Model 76-K Disruptor that served as his only companion on this mission, he made sure the magazine was in place and clicked off the safety. Checking once more through the scope, the doorway to the building was in clear view—now if the wind would die down a little.

 

The voices from the building told him it was time. The door began to swing open and he positioned himself for the shot. He felt his heart jump into his throat, and it pounded like a sledge hammer against a concrete wall with every beat that passed between the door opening and his target finally emerging.

 

Sweat poured from his body and soaked his clothing. His hands shook slightly as the man he'd been sent to kill finally emerged from the building. He closed his eyes and squeezed the trigger.

 

I haven't thought about that whole affair in years. My lungs still burn every time I think of that godforsaken dust-ball. That was likely the worst mission they ever sent me on... I don't know though, this was has been full of more headaches—and we're only a month into it.

 

I've ordered the Excalibur on course to an M-class planet... Citrus something.... apparently our science team named it after one of the lab pets... an arachnid of some sort. After dealing with Commander Segami, I am starting to think that laying on my belly in a dustbowl hunting rouge agents would be a more appealing mission than hunting lost Founders.

 

The whole mission has been nothing but a disaster... kind of like that mission. So far we've been out here a month and we've been shot at, had our crew sacrificed to some blood cult...oh and the Hundred and Semil are following us. I can only imagine how much worse it's going to get.

 

When I was sent to that godforsaken place... I had to fight off three or four patrols, a bout of something called Renir's Flu, hike three days through a barren desert just to find the encampment then make my escape through the bitter cold night with a dozen Cardassian agents hunting me. I got stung by some sort of...thing...in the night. I couldn't feel my leg for a week...

 

At the very least though, I knew what had to be done to accomplish my mission. And the success of that mission was dependent on me, and me alone. This mission? It's literally finding a needle in a haystack, and I don't even know where to start. To top that all off, my crew seems to be about three centimeters from space madness.

 

I am hoping shore leave will let us re-focus our attentions. I know they've been distracted, and they all want a piece of these cultists, but frankly I don't think we can focus on that right now. Hopefully the Satarimi can provide us with some answers, but I really don't have any intentions of going off on some goose chase to satisfy some sense of revenge.

 

Speaking things I've been avoiding... Lexin... the Vorta the Council sent to help us. I can't hardly stomach the fact we're helping his government. It makes me want to hurl up my lunch every time I consider that just ten years ago he was likely busy pressing war against the Federation trying to eradicate us from the galaxy, and now that they need help... the benevolent Federation is helping them... at my request.

 

Of course, irony has a way of finding me. On that dustball... I was hunting one of my own agents. That's why they sent me... something about only Nixon going to China... Regardless, I will do my duty to the Federation, even if it means some serious annoyances and headaches along the way. My personal discomfort is secondary to the continued survival of the Federation.