Mr. Bean Goes Crazy

[tr'Jeth Dabi 0]

He was ready to gripe again. He enjoyed this time because no one else would listen to his drivel. "Begin Personal Log."

 

 

 

There was no computer bleep to acknowledge his command.

 

 

 

"Computer what time is it?"

 

 

 

Again, no response.

 

 

 

Security Technician Bean sat on the floor, in his soiled uniform, in the corner of his quarters, save the blanket. The cold, vexatious room was now his Bastille. He wasn't sure which was better, the cage or this. He mumbled to himself, "Darn that Chief, he removed computer access – again." Bean was known for massive personal logs, but they were always bitter and full of whining about everyone around him.

 

 

 

The Chief had given him some things to think about, and clearly had stripped conveniences from his quarters to further torture him. Bean knew he was a slacker; in fact, took great pride in it, often bragging to people he hung with, well, at least in his personal logs. The few that ever listened couldn't believe how much work he did not do.

 

 

 

It was more than fear of Chief tr'Jeth Dabi, though that was seriously on his mind, but there was something inside his core that was tugging at his very fibers of morality. Being stripped of his pride, his dignity, and feeling like his humanity was being extracted through his pores.

 

 

 

The room was dim, and Bean stayed in the corner finally beginning to get sleepy. His eyes closed a couple times, but he was abruptly awakened by the ships computer, reciting...

 

 

 

"As I make my way through the halls and turbo lifts, the bowls of soup are awfully hot. I do not understand why I am required to feed these people. Engineering refuses to replace our replicators. I haven't been issued new quarters, as most of them haven't been refurbished.

 

 

 

"There's no way the others were remanded to do this sort of waitressing work. In fact, no one else has had to manually clean up the cells either! My parents would be appalled that I have had a toilet brush in my hand!

 

 

 

"Someone must be out for me, for my job. I do not understand why I am beaten down at every step. Why in the world do they persecute me? I do not cause any problems, in fact, I am almost happy with that dusty broom closet for quarters.

 

 

 

"I was the one that found the new prisoners during the commission of their crimes. They should give ME a medal! End Log"

 

 

His eyes were wide. Assuming that the Chief piped that into the room, he called out in anger, "It's true – I DESERVE a medal! I caught them!"

 

 

 

The last words reverberated through the room, as if it was an echo chamber. The room grew dimmer as he focused on a light point in the opposite end of the room. The point grew larger, and larger until the entire room was filled with white light. The light started to disburse in various points of the room, where children and a school room were becoming more vivid by the minute.

 

 

 

He, of course, was sitting in the corner on a stool. The rather large teacher, with tan orthopedic shoes and a granny style house-dress, marched up to him and began waggling her finger in his face. Her nasal-toned voice started bawling him out, "You, Mr. Bean, will never amount to anything! You have cheated off your schoolmates for the last time. I am flunking you again, so you can repeat my class for the third time!" As she walked away from him in a huff, her shoes squeaked against the floor and the floor sunk under each step due to her sheer size. He drew his head down as tears welled up.

 

 

 

"Stop this – View Arch!" he sniveled to the computer. There was no response.

 

 

 

{{Rule #40: If it seems someone is out to get you, they are.}}

 

 

 

He closed his eyes and covered them with his hands, whimpering to himself about how everyone does him wrong. He felt the room grow cold and dark again. Catching a breath, Bean stood up then hurried to the door. It was sealed. His code would not unlock it. "House arrest – sure, torture me more!" he whined to the air of no response. He was infuriated and started throwing things off his shelf against the back wall. There were no windows in the quarters, which were an inset within the bowels of the ship.

 

 

 

Nothing mattered now. He started kicking and throwing, trying to break everything in his room. The room, however, had transversed around him into the bedroom of his youth. Not too young though, it was where he returned between school years at the academy. He could hear his mother pleading at the door.

 

 

 

"Stop breaking things because his father would be home soon," she would lament, just as she had done many times before. She lived for the men in this family, trying always to please them and make sure they were cared for. She would help Bean with his homework every night, practically doing it for him. She would also make sure that the reports her husband brought home via PADD, were always spell checked, and written with a precise writing that could help gain him a raise.

 

 

 

"Knock it off ma, I am a man. I can do as I please!" He wailed his 5^th place Parisses Squares tournament placard at the door, causing damage to both the door and his prize. He worked hard at this game, one of the things he found he was able to do. He even trained with a group considered to be the elite players of the academy. His doom came when he faced Raymond Marr of Omicron Theta, who was destined to be a champion. It was the first round when he hit the ramp and was lobbed down to the floor. Second round, he took too many hits that he couldn't block. This guy must have been bionic, because Bean knew he could beat anyone. He didn't finish the third round; he didn't even get up to try.

 

 

 

He looked around the bedroom, and the huge mess that he created. Someone had to be behind this, so again he called out, "Stop this – View Arch!" There was no response.

 

 

 

He threw himself on the bed, grabbed the pillow and began crying again, sniveling to the point where his nose was running and eyes were red.

 

 

 

{{Rule #45: Clean up the mess that you make}}

 

 

 

"H O W A R D!" He leapt off the bed, but the room was no longer his.

 

 

 

The recruiter barked one more time from the entrance to his fate.

 

 

 

"H O W A R D B E A N – Front and Center!"

 

 

 

He hustled to the point of no return, briefly glancing back at his proud mother and space where his absent father would have sat. "Bean, Howard – reporting for duty, Sir."

 

 

 

The whole thing was a blur. Suddenly, he was standing in the hallway watching someone move items into a restricted area. He looked around for a moment, "Aegis" he mumbled. This was wrong. Quickly he reported up the food chain, but wasn't about to attempt a sole-arrest.

 

 

 

At this point, he was a fly on the fall. His point of view was to watch, not to interact. The scene played out in front of him… the arrests, the possible charge of dereliction of duty, the plastic pick given to clean the cell, and all of the rest. He could still feel tr'Jeth Dabi's hand around his collar bone and neck while being hoisted up the wall.

 

 

 

He dropped to the floor, which ended up to be the corner of his quarters. He felt defeated. Reaching to the floor where the overturned coffee table was, a PADD locked into his fingers while he pulled it closer. The PADD flickered as it turned on, and fingers began to tap out his resignation. There was nothing else for him to do. The Chief was clear, his absent father was unchanged, and his teacher even knew. He wasn't supposed to add up to anything, therefore, he was finished.

 

 

 

He was broken.

 

 

 

{{Rule #11: When the job is done, walk away.}}

 

 

 

Security was quiet. tr'Jeth Dabi's door was still broken, but silenced. He stood in his office over his private console, and turned off the monitoring equipment to Bean's quarters, satisfied with his modus operandi would either give him a Chief Security Technician, or remove the bug from under his foot.

 

 

Rules were adapted from NCIS.