Emotive Response

[Cptn Corizon 0]

The doors had no more than closed behind sickbay when his communicator chirped. “Go ahead.”

 

“Captain,” JoNs said. “The Ziers are getting restless..”

 

“Let them know I just spoke with Doctor Tamoris, he reports that Julie is doing well and should be ready for them to see in the next hour.”

 

“Of course, Captain. I'll let them know.”

 

“Was there anything else?”

 

“No, sir.”

 

“Very well then,” he said. “I'll be in my quarters if anything comes up.”

 

“Aye,” the Caitian said. “JoNs out.”

 

Corizon smiled slightly and headed towards the nearest turbolift. No offense intended to Commander Teykier, but he was pleased to have the Caitian back in action. The lift doors slid shut. “Deck three.”

 

The humming had barely started when another chirp from his communicator caused the Dameon to growl slightly before hitting his badge. “Corizon here.”

 

“Good to hear your voice Captain,” Major Cloud Makisu said.

 

“I think that's my line, Major.”

 

The chuckle from the Dachlyd echoed as the lift came to a halt. “We're still going through de-con, but you should have my report within the hour.”

 

“Excellent.”

 

“Though,” Makisu said, the cheer in his voice quickly drying out. “The casualty report will take me a little longer.”

 

“Casualty report?”

 

“We lost three men, sir.”

 

Corizon stopped in the middle of the hallway, closing his eyes and holding back a more emotional response. “Dammit.”

 

“They were good men.”

 

“Of course,” Corizon said. “Get in touch with Mister K'hal on the bridge... we'll arrange a memorial for them.”

 

“Thank you Captain.”

 

“Thank you, Major. If I'd known, I would have already been down there.”

 

“I understand Captain,” Cloud said. “Don't you worry about us. We're marines afterall.”

 

Corizon smiled in spite of himself and resumed walking. “If you need anything...”

 

“I expect a very strong drink.”

 

“I think that can be arranged.”

 

“Thanks, Makisu out.”

 

Bloody hell. Corizon turned the corner and entered his darkened quarters, half expecting the vampire to be waiting for him. He wasn't sure to be relieved or not when she was no where to be seen, regardless he flopped down on the leathery couch with a thud.

 

“Three more men,” he said aloud. “How many more people am I going to lose on this quest? And for what?”

 

He ran his hands through his hair with a heavy sigh. “Damnit.”

 

The sudden, crashing realization that the entire trip to this godforsaken planet had been utterly useless hit him with the force of a warp core breach. He'd been so focused on getting the infant back that he'd failed to register that if they didn't get the crownstone back, that the entire mission was likely over. They would have to return to Camelot without their prize.

 

“We finally get a decent lead, after three months... and all we have to do is take it from a bunch of ... of.. primitive ...” His rant digressed into an increasingly difficult to translate string of growls, barks and one can only assume obscenities.

 

Suddenly, overwhelmed, he launched from the couch and turned over the coffee table, emptying its contents onto the floor. That was just the beginning; ten minutes later and the entire room looked as if a plasma storm had raged through. In the midst of the rubble, panting, claws extended Corizon stood, his raging bolero building into a scream. The scent of blood caught his attention. It was his. A piece of glass protruded from his hands, but all the adrenaline numbed the pain.

 

Fighting back his urges, he took a deep breath and removed the offending piece of glass and licked lightly at the wound.

 

“Damnit...”