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ASR ORIGINS | ASR ORIGINS | ||
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Contemplating Mysterium== | |||
===by Brian V. Mansur | |||
SD 2260.252 | |||
MD 2.1435 | |||
Scene: Briefing Room, USS HOOD | |||
Sean Merrick *hated* his lack of self control. He especially loathed | |||
himself now that he had to now heroically exert it just to be presentable in | |||
the briefing. Every 5 seconds he had to forcibly command his hand to | |||
refrain from rubbing his eyes or neck or vulcan nerve pinch cluster ... | |||
anything at all that would betray the hangover he had earned from downing | |||
TWO BOTTLES of hard liquor. | |||
Every time his eyes wandered over to Dr. Corbett, he fought the urge to | |||
facetiously mouthe out, "You bastard." | |||
Captain Steele, mangificient bastard that *he* was, looked as fresh as the | |||
morning dew. | |||
Maybe he doing drugs. No other reasonable explanation for him to look so | |||
professional and pain free. Except perhaps that he hadn't drunk as much the | |||
night before and was probably over the worst of his hangover. | |||
Self-controlled Bastard. | |||
Like a snapping twig, Merrick suddenly felt very sad. Thoughts drifted | |||
between the details of what would have otherwise been an interesting | |||
technical brief and his daily nightmares. | |||
Figuring prominently into them was that cute asian from communications who'd | |||
died right in front of him on Monil IV. For some reason, she'd replaced the | |||
visions of Jeri dying on Vulcan. The woman had possessed a beautiful exotic | |||
name that was difficult for him to pronounce. He had already forgotten it. | |||
Somehow that didn't seem right. | |||
The crazy pious Klingon had also been in his dreams. His whole long-winded | |||
apologetic treatise had replayed in high bandwith fidelity. That's what he | |||
got for being raised in a theistic religion. | |||
Sorry to disappoint you God, but I still don't believe in you. | |||
There had been a time that he had. In those days he'd found providence in | |||
every good run of luck and rebuke in many a stroke of bad. It was laughable | |||
superstition he now felt. And yet he figured he had been happier somehow | |||
that way. Like a kid who still believed in Christmas. | |||
And what did he say to that? Tough luck? That's just the way the universe | |||
sucks? There was a label for that way of thinking: Stoicism. It was a | |||
stark, unsatisfying label. When he tried to ignore the problem and just be | |||
happy about what he could get out of life, he knew he was playing out | |||
another label: Hedonism. He knew how gratifying that could sometimes be. | |||
But the party always ended, the rush always faded, and the cold hard reality | |||
of his lonely life eventually returned. And then everyone eventually died. | |||
Pathetic. | |||
Wasn't there something better? Perhaps there was. Perhaps he'd | |||
had it once and could go back to it. | |||
Right. Sure. Whatever. And what about Jeri? And that comms chick? And 3 | |||
billion Vulcans etc etc etc? But if the answer was not in what he had once | |||
believed in, what then? | |||
NRPG: Character Developement. | |||
Respectfully Submitted, | |||
Brian V. Mansur | |||
LCDR Sean Merrick | |||
FO, USS HOOD NCC-1703 | |||
ASR: ORIGINS |