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The Vast Inbetween

Posted on Fri Jun 2nd, 2017 @ 9:10pm by Captain Christian Rogers

Mission: S1E2: The Surprise Attack
Location: Personal Quarters

Christian stood before the plasteel viewport, one of several deck to overhead sized panes. In the dim light of his quarters, long after his established 'lights out' time, his reflection stood before him - dressed only in briefs, his arms crossed over his chest, his short hair only perceptibly mussed if someone were looking hard. Dark, Betazoid eyes were holes through his reflection and a mirror of the vast dark Abyss of space.

As a child, holovids gave him the impression that traveling through space was a visual treat. Stars, galaxies, comets, nebulas - the vast richness of the universe would be a panoply of visual riches. He'd learned long ago, however, that space was a vast inbetween. A long, wide darkness full of emptiness.

He learned that there wasn't any sound in space, there wasn't any substance for most of it either.

Which seemed to be much of his life.

He looked at the corner of the window panel, at the bed with covers only slightly mussed. He'd lied there for some time, trying to fall asleep, but his quarters - much like space - was much too quiet. Physically quiet. Mentally - he was as crowded as ever with all the 'voices' of the ship.

He'd grown up surrounded by many others. Until he'd finished OCS and became more than just a junior officer, he'd always shared quarters with someone else. First, like the enlisted under his command, he'd bunked with seven others, then it went down to just three, then one until he gained private quarters.

Which he hated.

He hated the silence. The physical aloneness. He hated it more than anything because it was just a reminder that's exactly who he was. Alone. No past extending beyond him. To this day genetic searches failed to turn up any links to a family. Even periodic scans of the Betazoid genetic databases failed to provide him with a family match. Which he found impossible to believe, but there it was.

He was all he was. No mother, no father. No siblings. Nothing connecting him or anchoring him to anyplace but those things which he chose to anchor. The Corps was the closest thing to family he had - or ever had.

He has been conditioned to be around others, to find solace and comfort in the company of others. Most nights, now, he could cope with the vast inbetween of being around others.

Sighing he stepped away from the window and padded across the room to the chest where he pulled out his off-duty clothing - which consisted of mostly PT type gear - t-shirt, shorts, running shoes, ankle socks. Dressing quickly, he left his quarters, letting the silent voices in his head direct him down to the lounge. He may not be with anyone in particular but being in the presence of others filled in that vast inbetween of space and nothingness.

 

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