STF

Liam's Quarters (Post-Sim)

Posted Dec. 4, 2018, 11:02 p.m. by Lieutenant Liam Madison (Chief Science Officer) (Janice B.)

There were few times Liam wanted to let the world pass him by. Today was that rare occasion, but routine refused to let him rest. Gradually, his mind began to stir ever faintly into awareness. A right eye lifted its lid to reveal his grey irises, the pupil gradually tightened up to focus. Liam took stock of himself before deciding to rise. Every bone rattled with hidden stress and weighed him down, inner biological chains bond him to his bed.

Despite his depression urging him to forget the day existed, Liam forced himself upright in bed. His legs slipped over the edge where he pushed himself into standing. Cautiously he paced himself through his daily routine because he could feel it fading fast. His left hand reached out to press a button on the replicator, his ear caught the familiar beep and hum of breakfast being created.

Coffee filled his quarters while he searched for his casual wear. He caught his image in the mirror causing him to pause like a deer in headlights. His own inner voice cracked across his mind’s sleepy haze.

Was the effort really worth it to just face the world again?

The question pinned him there in place, his emotions flared to the surface and crossed into his expression. His softened grey eyes examined the wrinkled, aged man staring back at him. Each feature became a scar from a struggle boiling underneath a human skin. The notion twisted his intestines into knots. How long before his mask would shatter and reveal the individual underneath? The question made his heart skip a beat, realizing the truth.

Liam sighed then twisted about. He was unable to face the reflection as he padded over to the replicator and took up the tray, his feet lead him to the small fold out table. His fork just reached up to his mouth when the door chimed. Pausing it there, Liam placed it back down then lifted up. He reached for his robes to cover his nightwear and turned to the door.

“Come in,” Liam said quietly.

The doors hissed open as Joseph stepped through them. Their eyes met and both subtly identified the dark emotions brewing inside. Especially strong since the recent mission. Liam exhaled then moved toward the replicator.

“What would you like?”

Joseph slowly sat down and flashed a half-hearted smile, “Just black coffee is fine, Uncle.”

Liam suspected his nephew hadn’t eaten breakfast but didn’t press the topic. It wouldn’t change Joseph’s decision for a meal. Casually, Liam slid the mug over to his relative and shortly sat once more in his earlier seat.

Joseph reached for the mug, only to pause and stare at his hand. Slowly one by one, his fingers moved gently into a fist then extended outward again. He tested the flexibility a moment longer before he finally took a slow draft of the still hot liquid.

“Thank you,” Joseph said after he placed it back down.

Liam nodded.

“Still adjusting to the replacement? I was informed you lost your hand during the mission, severed by a chunk of metal when your capsule made a hard landing onto the planet. Would you like to talk about it?”

Joseph shook his head to dismiss the offer, “I’m fine. Really. The therapy is helping… a bit.”

“I don’t think any of us are ‘fine’ after that incident.”

–CSO, Liam J. Madison, Sci


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