What to do?

[Tabor Nansk 0]

Tabor left sickbay, tootsie pop in hand [the grape one], and went back to his quarters. He didn’t want to ask Angel for a few days off. Too many questions. Truth be told, he didn’t want to talk to Angel at all. So far he’d avoided having to give a verbal report to his commander and hoped that the PADD version would do, but that was likely to change some time soon. Fortunately, the ship’s repairs had kept everyone busy, so it was relatively easy for him to find something more pressing to do, with a politically correct excuse for not rushing right up to the Flight Office.

 

 

Will was another story. The kid kept trying to corner Tabor like a love-starved puppy. The last time Tabor tried to suggest that he could handle matters without the extra help, Will went off with a crushed expression on his face. It wasn’t Tomlinson’s fault, or Angel’s or anyone else’s for that matter. Tabor just wanted to be left alone. No one had answers. No one alive – or dead – or….prophets, it was getting hard to keep straight who was who and which was which. It all depended on your point of view which category someone fell into.

 

 

No, he was just going to have to figure things out for himself. Will had had a wild notion of hacking into the station computers to look for “something”. Tabor was sure that would just bring some authority crashing down upon their necks and the likelihood of there being any real information on a remote starbase was slim. Dr. Matthews had begun a “support group” of the survivors/dead [take your pick]. Tabor went to one session and couldn’t wait to get out of the room. He never returned for a second.

 

 

No, answers were definitely up to him. And they were going to have to happen soon. Repairs would be finished eventually and the ship would be departing. And Tabor had a major decision to make before that happened.