Winston Chronicles Qob/Tranquilty Universe; The Replay Cycle by Mitar Precip and Max Symanck

[Mitar Precip 0]

2418

THE REPLAY CYCLE

 

Guardian Precinct Headquarters, “Unspeakable Zone”

Interrogation Room Gamma

 

Annoying Shop Talk between Cops...

 

My ODRI goes wild...so does everyone else’s...

 

Klingons arrive... that is new.

 

Sheriff says, “Look at me! Not your ODRIs,” and begins speech...

 

Motors come... guns blazing.

 

Klingons speeder blows up... an arm flies by...

 

Deputy says open fire. Guardians shoot back..

 

Another speeder hit and burns... Dad says run!

 

I ask Dad to use his hunting rifle... look back... ball of fire...

 

Forward now... Deputy hit in front of me by beam, lifted off his feet...

 

A loud boom... I turn around... nothing but flame... I go for Dad’s gun.

 

I run up the stairs... to the roof...

 

Smoke billows out of roof door with me as I exit...

 

I see the attackers... I see Nausicaans....

 

I lie down... and aim...

 

Kill...

Kill...

Kill...

 

Kill...

 

I hear a voice... behind a Guardian yelling for me to aim for the other side...

 

I obey... and...

Kill...

Kill....

 

Dad... got to get Dad....

 

Collide with Guardian... who says we need to get off the building, it’s going to blow...

 

I ask about Dad....

 

“Your Dad is gone, Son..”

 

Dad is gone... that can’t be...

 

A Guardian coat is thrown over my head....

 

“Do not take the coat off your head... I’ll walk you off the back escape ladder!”

 

Dad...

 

“Son.... Later.... We have to move....”

 

 

Mark Winston broke from his of his mental replay cycle briefly when the Guardian asked him if he needed anything.

 

“Just my Dad”

 

“We’ll take care of you, Mark. I promise.”

 

“When can I go home?”

 

“When we find you a new one, and I am certain people at this station are going to help you with that. I have to leave, Mark.”

 

“Are you coming back?”

 

“Yes. And the name is Jiles, Mark. I’ll be back with some fresh clothes. Give me a few minutes.”

 

He closed the door to the room.

 

And the cycle repeated itself yet again in Mark Winston’s head.

 

Annoying shop talk between cops....

 

 

2420

Guardian Precinct Headquarters, “Unspeakable Zone”

Office of Maxwell Symanck, MD

 

Dr. Symanck paused the security recording taken two years ago and leaned back to study the image frozen on the screen: that of a young man who had just lost his father and his home.

 

A paste of dust and soot masked the boy’s face, dry tears smeared throughout. A dark rim around his eyes marked the squint that had probably shielded them from exploding particles. Dry, cracked lips hung open in shock and his forearms rested uneasily on his thighs, legs bouncing in anxiety, tattered clothes askew. Throughout the Guardians’ questioning the boy’s breathing had come in short, shallow gulps with an occasional shudder and his blank stare pinned the opposite wall with only an occasional flick aside to recognize the presence of the Guardian who had saved him: Jiles Benson.

 

Veteran Lawman and one of the most respected officers on the force, Benson had since taken the boy into his care, had become his mentor, and was now his senior partner. By showing such compassion for a lost young man, Benson epitomized the kind of Guardian engendered by Marshall Amanda Savoy. But the subject of today’s interview was not Jiles Benson.

 

Today Maxwell Symanck, MD, focused on the rookie before him, Mark Winston, as the recent academy graduate watched the video of his father’s death. Appointed Chief of Psychiatry by Marshall Savoy, Symanck was responsible for evaluating Tranquility City’s Guardians, including their elite, their new recruits, and their rookies. Today, as in every case, he was judging the young man’s responses to the video and looking for psychological indicators of instability: anything that would hinder performance, make him vulnerable to corruption, or make him snap at the first chance for revenge. The last interview in an increasingly intense sequence, this, in essence, was the “final exam” for Mark Winston.

 

Dr. Symanck took his focus from the screen and leaned forward to rest his forearms casually on the table. “What was going through your mind at that point, Mark?”

 

“Well Doc,a whirlwind of thoughts and visual memories going over and over like a distress signal of a starship.”

 

“Visual memories such as...?”

 

Mark leaned forward from the cushioned chair resting his elbows on his knees and his head on clasped hands, focusing on the doctor’s eyes. “After Jiles left me in that room with his coat, my mind was in a state of cyclic replay of visual fragments of what happened at the garage two years ago. I think it is fair to say I was quite traumatized by what happened. And I kept looking for a visual event where I could have changed what happened.”

 

Mark retreated into the comfortable office chair provided for Dr. Symanck’s patients. “After so many replays and a few gentle words from others you realize there was nothing else you could have done that particular day.”

 

“Having any flashbacks... either in your dreams, when you’re training, or on patrol?”

 

“None recently, Doctor. I had them for a few months after the attack, as you know from our sessions. Those subsided. Lawman Benson seemed to divert my attention to the academia of Guardian Law Enforcement, and...” he chuckled, “...my liking for reading history. He said ‘stick with that and keep learning.’ It did help.

 

“During the recent riots, Lawman Benson was my partner. Senior. He was the same Guardian that got me off the roof of that garage before it collapsed. He has been a...” Mark was lost searching for the word,“...an adopted Father for me.”

 

Mark turned his gaze from Dr. Symanck to the floor briefly. “Funny, I am not sure if that is right.”

 

Max rocked back in his chair. The muffled pulse of its inner coils created a calming effect with most patients. “If what’s right? That he was your senior or that he seemed like an adopted father?”

 

“The decision for him to be my senior partner was not his choice nor my own. That decision came from Sheriff Knorr. He made the call. I am still alive. Jiles has succeeded in being my senior; that was the right call. I had no prior experience doing anything security wise before. Yes I knew how to use a gun; but that is different.”

 

Mark paused. “I did not answer your first question, did I?” Mark looked at Dr. Symanck’s eyes. “I would be lying if I said that during the first several months of training, at the pistol range in particular, I didn’t have some memories flash before me. But those have seem to have faded into obscurity or they only arise in our sessions.

 

“I have not killed anyone since taking the Lawman Oath. One would think somebody who blew six beings’ heads off would be on the trigger-happy side. Lawman Benson has been very instructive on the use of deadly force as a Lawman, aside from the academia.”

 

“And what about the men who killed your father?”

 

“Prior to the riots, Marshall Savoy herself paid me an unexpected visit one day after judiciary class. She said something like, ‘excel above others by dismantling wanton thoughts of petty revenge; use justice as your armor and strength against corruption of the mind and the law itself.’ I was quite flattered that she said that to me. I guess she knew I was probably going to be a Lawman in the end. Maybe I was a concern to her, regarding the Nausicaan population of Tranquility City.”

 

“Does the Nausicaan population in the city disturb you?”

 

“The Marshall really put the heat on the Nausicaan biker gangs after that incident, as you well know. They seem to have, as Jiles said, ‘gone underground or basically kicked out of town.’ There are, I believe, over 1,000 Nausicaans who we know of. Jiles thinks there may be more, but they are in no position whatsoever to organize as they did years ago. No, I wouldn’t say they concern me today more than an Orion, Andorian, or Human. Any species is capable of criminal activity. Even Vulcans.”

 

Symanck gave a thoughtful nod, hands folded and resting in his lap. “Before we conclude, is there anything you’d like to ask me, Mark?”

 

Mark warmly looked at the old man who, along with Jiles, had rebuilt his psyche the last two years. “I’d like to ask if we can continue sessions in the future. The reason being: Jiles has said inevitably a Guardian will have to use lethal force during his career. And he thinks the Sheriff is going to want me to use my father’s old rifle again as a ‘long- arm’ of the Sunset District.”

 

“Of course, Mark,” he replied. “My office door is always open. And if it’s not the office, then wherever you feel most comfortable. In fact,” he paused, a grin playing on his lips, “I wouldn’t say no to the offer of a drink once in a while. But...” Dr. Symanck rocked out of his chair and extended his hand. “...I don’t want you to be late for duty. Good luck, Mark. You’re a good man. Your father taught you well. Never forget him; he was your first and most important teacher.”

 

Mark held up his late father’s ODRI on his wrist. “Thanks Doc. This will always remind me of my father and principles he instilled in me. He was not a perfect man. But who is? “ Mark grinned at the doc and exited the office in a hurry to catch lunch with Jiles Benson.

 

=======================

“Long-Arm” - Tranquility City Guardian slang for Sniper

“ODRI” -Optical Data Relay Interface

 

ref:Qob Tranquility Base: ODRI

ref:ODRI & You

Edited June 24, 2012 by Mitar Precip