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Murray sat in his quarters and just stared at the wall. He had been caught completely off guard. This couldn’t be happening to him. It just couldn’t. He never did anything to life, so why should it retaliate against him like this.


A plethora of emotions were running amok in his head. Shock. Denial. Anger. Depression. Surprise. Trauma. Defiance. Annoyance. Irritation. Rage. Fury. Sadness. Misery. Sadness. Frustration. Worry. Anxiety. Nausea. Betrayal.




Murray sat slumped in his bathroom and just stared at the wall. He had been caught completely off guard. This couldn’t be happening to him. It just couldn’t.


But it was.


He felt like he had been punched in the gut, and it wasn’t from the dry heaves. He just wanted to cry from the moment the doctor revealed to him that he was suffering from the effects of delta radiation poisoning. The nausea, vomiting, facial twitches…it was all caused by spending too much time around that warp core.


He thought back to elementary school history, learning of the USS Enterprise’s second five-year mission under Captain Christopher Pike. The Talos incident stood out readily. It was the mission that resulted in the creation of General Order 7. Death to anyone who returns to Talos. Several years later aboard the USS Republic training vessel Pike was severely injured by delta radiation when he saved several cadets after a baffle plate in the ship’s reactor ruptured. He was confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life, unable to talk or even move; his only method of communication was a panel of lights on his wheelchair that beeped.


Murray decided that he should probably be feeling lucky. His symptoms didn’t seem as if they would pose a serious risk to his body or a life. It could’ve been much worse. He could’ve ended up like Pike, a motionless and essentially mute body. Here the worst that would happen was that he would be his own nightlight and Murray’s for generations to come would be glowing in the dark.


His thoughts then turned to the recent events that led him to where he was today. It was the death of Colonel Weaver that had gotten him his promotion to Chief Engineer. He recalled that he had recently ordered Lieutenant Harris to fit whatever coverings he could over the exposed EPS conduits; he didn’t want to end up barbecued like Weaver. And here it was the warp core he had needed to worry about. Oh, the irony.


As the emotions started to build up inside him again Murray curled up on the floor of his bathroom and cried himself to sleep.

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